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Label Spotlight: Tompkins Square
The Tompkins Square label grabbed our attention early on, back in 2005 with their inaugural release, the majestic first volume of Imaginational Anthem, a compilation which traced the enduring influence of American Primitive guitar playing on the acoustic guitar idiom. Rather than simply showcasing a bunch of slavish Robbie Basho and John Fahey imitators, the album instead offered an array of numerous byways and avenues that this style of music could travel down. While continuing with the Imaginational Anthem series, which still shows no sign of being played out, Tompkins Square has increasingly broadened its scope of interest to include free jazz, country music, songs informed by the traditions of British Folk, and themed collections of obscure early American popular song. They've done a wonderful job of shining a light on some forgotten talents, while also investing in a new generation of singers and players who are simultaneously connected to deep roots and furthering the art of their music. It's a fine, fine label, and we're excited to be marking their 5-year anniversary with this FREE, Other Music-curated download sampler, featuring 12 of our favorite songs from their great catalogue. Additionally, for the next two weeks we are offering every Tompkins Square album on Other Music Digital for the very low price of $5.99. The fourth volume of the always-enlightening Imaginational Anthem acoustic guitar series is subtitled New Possibilities, which pretty much says it all; rather than stacking the deck with a few established masters of the genre, this edition focuses strictly on younger, emerging talents. There are plenty of artists here you may already know in other contexts, like Tyler Ramsey of Band of Horses, whose fleet-fingered, lilting "Our Home Beyond the River" spins a joyful tale that is as nuanced and emotional with just six strings as any track his full band has ever cut. Or William Tyler, who has recorded and toured extensively with Americana-influenced indie artists like Lambchop and Silver Jews, but on the achingly beautiful "Between Radnor and Sunrise" makes a strong case for a solo career (he has an upcoming full-length on Tompkins Square). The tone varies throughout, from the relatively modern approach, with accompanying organ drone and bass guitar on Chris Forsyth's set-opening "Paranoid Cat," to the traditional lap-steel swagger of Micah Blue Smaldone's "Rose March," or C. Joynes closing jig on "Jemmy Steel." Another home run from Tompkins Square, keeping the flame alive, if not single-handedly, then at least leading the charge. -Josh Madell
Reedman Giuseppi Logan recorded two classic albums of free-jazz/fire-music for ESP-Disk back in the '60s, before seemingly disappearing off into the aether. The man himself was apparently lost to time for a good stretch of the preceding forty odd years, as he struggled with mental health and homelessness issues, even as the fine regard for his somewhat minuscule discography continued to grow. So it came as a quite a shock to the congregants of an evening performance at the annual Vision Festival a couple years back when Logan unexpectedly chose to make his reappearance, ambling in to the delight of long lost friends. Kind souls have since helped him get his life in order, and at 74 he now has a new home, and a very fine new record. Here he rekindles a relationship with one-time collaborators and jazz heroes Dave Burrell and Warren Smith, and begins a new one with young players Francois Grillot and Matt Lavelle. They get right down to it, practically picking right up where Logan left off, with several new compositions and a handful of standards, almost as if the intervening 45 years never happened. Logan sounds surprisingly strong and energetic considering, with a raw tone and plenty of fleet phrasing. As it happens, the Tompkins Square label is an appropriate home for Logan, as most days he can now be found busking at the Northwest Corner of the actual park; I happened to be sitting there a couple weeks ago on a Sunday afternoon, and saw him sweetly shuffle by on his way to his spot -- definitely worth a moment of your time, as is this record. -Michael Klausman
The young James Blackshaw, it seems, was born with a 12-string in his hand. He has been an accomplished player and composer since the dark days of the mid-2000s (and his early 20s), recording spare acoustic albums of intricate, circular, hypnotic, finger-picked raga guitar in a small studio in Hullbridge, UK, releasing ultra-limited CD-Rs in quantities that would have been impossible to find even if you knew that you were searching. Blackshaw draws on classic artists like John Fahey, Charlemagne Palestine and Arvo Part, and the past few years have seen a broadening interest in this brand of guitar hypnosis, bringing him to the forefront of an international scene that includes players like Sir Richard Bishop, Glenn Jones and the dearly missed Jack Rose. Tompkins Square has done the fans a great service by giving these three early albums a proper release, and they are all well worth a listen. Blackshaw's debut, Celeste, was recorded in late 2003 and saw a limited release of 80 CD-Rs the following year on the Birchville Cat Motel-associated Celebrate Psi Phenomenon label. The album features a two-part meditation on a similar theme, and even on this early debut, his fluid 12-string playing is mesmerizing. There are subtle touches of Farfisa organ and cymbal, but Blackshaw's guitar work is so intricate it often sounds like a symphony, and he wisely leaves it largely unadorned here. 2005's Sunshrine is perhaps the most complex and varied of the three, and it has also been the easiest to find, having been released in an edition of 1000 actual factory-made CDs on Digitalis Industries. Blackshaw brings both 12- and six-string into play here, and again lays the groundwork with harmonium, bells and bowed cymbals, as well as sarod (a classical North Indian stringed instrument). The 26-minute title track opens with some lovely clattering bells, cleansing the palate even before the first strum, which shifts the mood instantly to a melancholy pace that slowly builds back up to a dense wall of sound, and a heavy bell and harmonium coda, followed by another palate-cleanser, the three-minute jaunty guitar-only piece, "Skylark Herald's Dawn." The album-long Lost Prayers and Motionless Dances was recorded and released about a year after the debut (200 CD-Rs on Digitalis Industries), and it adds some lovely drone elements into the mix. Opening with a breathy harmonium, Blackshaw overdubs subtle touches of bells, radio noise and assorted percussion as an undercurrent to his lilting 12-string, and where the debut hints at a raga influence, this one more overtly takes some cues from East Indian trance sounds. -Josh Madell
In terms of strict listenability, the value of the "complete recordings" anthology is often pushed to its furthest limits when applied to old-time country music. Labels like Document and JSP no doubt satisfy the most obsessive or scholastically minded listeners among us by reissuing several volumes of this fiddler or that string band -- always with the requisite alternate takes, always in chronological order -- but to call such releases enjoyable, at least as the album experience goes, can be a stretch. Not so with Tompkins Square's release of the complete recordings of the Red Fox Chasers. Two long discs of this pre-war North Carolina string band might seem a tall order, but the group was so versatile both in their playing and their repertoire to make for a seriously entertaining listen. Formed after the third annual Union Grove Fiddler's Convention in 1928, the four Chasers' hailed from three Northwestern North Carolina counties now synonymous with old-time music -- Wilkes, Alleghany, and Surry -- and all were hungry to make records, something that had served their landsmen like Da Costa Woltz's Southern Broadcasters, the Carolina Tar Heels, and Charlie Poole & His N.C. Ramblers so well. Traveling to Richmond, Indiana, the home of Gennett Records, they cut 20 sides in April and June of '28, and returned in June of '29 for an additional 16, including a four-sided skit called "The Red Fox Chasers Makin' Licker," which holds up remarkably well, all things considered. All but the four sides rejected by Gennett are included here -- a number of which have been previously unissued on LP or CD -- and they show the Red Fox Chasers in full command of a broad repertoire: familiar dance tunes like "Mississippi Sawyer" and "Did You Ever See the Devil, Uncle Joe?"; sentimental hits by the Carolina Tar Heels ("Bring Me a Leaf from the Sea"); Charlie Poole ("Budded Roses"), and the Carter Family ("Little Sweetheart, Pal of Mine"); Tin Pan Alley numbers and parlor songs; and a few surprisingly great compositions attributed to the band themselves. Bandleader Paul Miles' "Virginia Bootleggers" remains the Chasers' best side, although fiddler Guy Brooks probably resented it -- mischievously borrowing the melody of country-gospel chestnut "The River of Jordan," it got Brooks kicked out of his church.
But to this listener, the real gems are the recordings made in 1931 by Bob Cranford and A.P. Thompson, the Red Fox Chasers' harp blower and guitar player, respectively. They were invited back to Richmond as a duet to make a number of sides that were ultimately released on Gennett's budget Champion label, displaying a penchant for the macabre and the sinister (murder and bad-man ballads like "Pretty Polly," "Otto Wood," and "The Murder of the Lawson Family" predominate). They prove themselves to be one of the best old-time vocal twosomes you've never heard, appearing a good five years earlier than the other great Carolina duets of the 1930s, the Dixon Brothers and the Blue Sky Boys, and they easily match the Delmores of Alabama and the Monroes of Kentucky in lonesomeness of delivery. -Nathan Salsburg
Solo banjo, fiddle and vocal by the young Frank Fairfield, who is nothing short of virtuosic here. With a banjo style not dissimilar from Roscoe Holcomb in its percussive intensity, these American songs are in eminently capable hands, conjuring the spirit of the most gifted interpreters. That Fairfield should completely eschew the notion of revivalism and the knowing smirk is in large part the reason that these tunes truly sound vibrant. In a very certain and self-assured manner, Fairfield lets the songs rely on themselves; acting as a conduit, the reverence is sincere, the purpose is single-faceted, and the performances shine with simple perfection. Wayward interpretations of traditional tropes logically continue the ebb and flow of song legends and storytelling, Fairfield's own histories created on the fly. The recordings themselves are made with a careful intent on preserving the natural sonority of the instruments and voice. Though the fiddle solos seem to play up the dissonant intensity, it is the otherworldly nature of this kind of direct musical communication that leaves its most distinct mark. Obviously this reality has galvanized Fairfield in a manner of benefit to all who come in contact with his music. With no distraction or foreign artifice, Fairfield has inherited the vitality of tradition in a most wholehearted way, making for a consummately rewarding listen. -Simon Gabriel
This is the debut release from Pawn Records, the new Tompkins Square imprint directed by old-timey L.A. musician Frank Fairfield (featured above), with the goal of uncovering hidden gems of the "Gramophone era." Collecting obscure 78s from around the world is a personal passion for Fairfield, and this broad collection features 16 of his favorite tracks from all corners; as such, there is little stylistic consistency beyond the hiss and crackle of ancient shellac and the emotion of unheralded singers and players pouring their hearts into their music. These are unknown artists, who cut a few sides in the early parts of the century (the recordings span from the 1910s to the '60s), and they fall somewhere between commercial recording and field recordings, covering vernacular music from Hawaii, Africa, East Asia, the American South and beyond. And yet, despite crisscrossing the globe and the century, there is still a focus and vision to the collection that makes it a pleasure from start to finish; whether these faded artists were unheard of even in their own time, or forgotten about through the shifting sand of time, their music lives on and will inspire a legion of new fans today. We are looking forward to future releases on what is sure to be a great new label. -Josh Madell A major excavation here, an intimate performance from folk-legend Tim Buckley recorded near the beginning of his career when he was a mere 20-years old. Recorded in 1967 in front of an audience of around thirty at the new digs of Izzie Young's Folklore Center on 6th Avenue, an instrument-cum-record shop that was a major hipster nexus in its day, Young presciently supplied a mic and Nagra field recorder to capture the proceeds for eternity, though it has unfortunately taken more than forty years for these performances to see the light of day. It's totally worth the wait, however, as the set finds Buckley's astoundingly beautiful voice belting a number of songs from his self-titled debut, totally shorn of arrangements, along with four (!) tunes that have never been heard in any form before. The sound fidelity is surprisingly high considering the set-up, and Buckley comes through crystal clear throughout. Though the music is not as exploratory as he'd get it to be in the years ahead, there is still an extremely engaging urgency running throughout the proceedings, with Buckley more than ably demonstrating to this small, hip crowd that he was bound to be a major and original artist. -Michael Klausman
You might not have been aware of it, but Richard Skelton has built up a bit of a cottage industry in the last few years, becoming the kind of artist who has pierced even the blackest of hearts. Those that have managed to track down his plethora of hard-to-find, willfully obscure releases (each usually under a different name, how's that for confusing?) have found themselves tripping over their feet (or fingers) to get more -- such is the addictive allure of Richard Skelton. Originally released on CD-R over three years ago, Box of Birch became an album spoken of in hushed tones, an album which notched itself up to the top of a fair few "best of 2007" lists (including my own) and one that has never strayed far from my CD player since. Now reissued by the fittingly hallowed Tompkins Square label, it will hopefully get the widespread attention it deserves and bring some more fans to our dedicated fold. Box of Birch is forged from the most delicate of components, bowed and plucked strings and subtle percussion, yet the arrangements and growth of the pieces are so organic and natural it's easy to forget which instruments you might be hearing altogether. I would be loath to call this "ambient," as it would suggest incorrect reference points, but the record brings to mind a less electronically inclined Mountains infused with the kind of wretched melancholy heard in Ry Cooder's seminal Paris, Texas soundtrack. This is heart-wrenching stuff which will no-doubt glean comparison to Godspeed or A Silver Mount Zion, but where those bands plunged themselves into a near-theatrical universe, Skelton's work seems firmly grounded and almost humble. Box of Birch is an album that haunts your every breath and embeds itself in your subconscious -- a more troublingly beautiful album you would be hard-pressed to find. Utterly unmissable. -John Twells
Estil Cortez Ball's life began in 1913 in Rugby, Virginia, and ended 65 years later and about that many miles away, in Grassy Creek, North Carolina. Geographically, the man hardly moved an inch, but his soul and his spirit traveled far and wide via the airwaves of West Jefferson, NC's WKSK and other weekly gospel shows in "any church where anyone invites us to come." For nearly 50 years, Ball, his wife Orna, and their Friendly Gospel Singers spread the good word with Appalachian earnestness, hickory croons, and Ball's springy fingerpicking guitar style, which will sound like heaven itself to anyone who swoons for John Fahey or Townes Van Zandt. Compiled by musician and music anthropologist Nathan Salsburg (also an Other Music Update contributor) to celebrate the thirtieth anniversary of Ball's death, the album culls from both the sacred and secular poles of Ball's songwriting spectrum with a huge cast of traditional and next generation country musicians. No distinction is made between songs that feature him, and songs that don't; you will find the sad sack lament, "The Early Bird Always Gets the Worm," performed here in a sparse and clucky arrangement by 68-year-old Michael Hurley, right next to the gorgeous "Lord I Want More Religion," from contemporary bluegrass fiddler Rayna Gellert. The first half of the disc is frontloaded with goosed-up country kickers from the likes of Dave Bird and Pokey LaFarge, while the tail end acts as the comedown from the twang party, with Joe Manning and Glen Dentinger tackling Ball's famous "Tribulations," and Salsburg contributing his reverential cut to the record, "One Day I Will." The end of the album is a blessing, with Dave Bird, Catherine Irwin and Bonnie "Prince" Billy ramshackling themselves to "Beautiful Star of Bethlehem," quickly followed by the lilting "Fathers Have a Home Sweet Home," from Jan Bell, Jolie Holland, and Samantha Parton. If you're familiar with E.C. and his wife, you might be taken aback by all the amplified string bending and the devilish snare drum slap inside of songs like "He's My God." But the exuberance and joy are backed by respect and reverence for this truly American artist, and just hearing the words and the music breathe again makes Face a Frowning World more spiritually satisfying than most 10 A.M. services. -Michael Stasiak After teasing us in Volume 1 of the Imaginational Anthem comp which featured the overwhelmingly under-recorded Max Ochs, Tompkins Square gives us more of the rarest of breed's inspired and sincere American primitive guitar music. Ochs, a versatile and virtuosic guitarist -- yes he is Phil's cousin -- recorded for Fahey's Takoma label in the sixties, and has been all but forgotten about on a macroscopic level ever since. His dip from recording since the sixties makes this compilation of old and new tracks timeless and precious. Ochs has been a dedicated social and political activist his entire life, and when he is not working tirelessly against racism, poverty, and homelessness, he has helped music prevail in Annapolis by hosting free concerts at Quiet Waters Park and even managing a venue at 333 Coffeehouse. In a sense, these 45-minutes of music, accompanied by four poems, give both a sound bite and a summary of a life devoted to a tradition of change and transcendence. Not only did Fahey record him in the sixties, but Ochs used to pal around with Robbie Basho at the University of Maryland, and when he lived in New York, house guests included Skip James, Son House, and Mississippi John Hurt. This legacy of folk-blues guitarists is upfront and decisive in Ochs' own work, and his plucking is a testament to hours studying Fahey's technique. Ochs refers to Mississippi John Hurt as much of a life mentor as he does a musical one, but when you hear "Oncones," and "Imaginational Anthem," Ochs' roots are unmistakable. His poems are well-crafted, consciously embodying an elegiac, American-pastoral tradition, including an ode to Phil Ochs, and his touch on the guitar is most deserving of the names he is associated with. His "Don't die. Please stay alive." mantra (recurring in interviews) does well in approaching the emotional gravity of his recordings. Few guitarists reach the mature level of understanding and execution that Ochs exudes, and even fewer can convey such a palpable, deep feeling. -Brian Cassidy
Peter Walker was an integral player on the Cambridge/ Greenwich Village folk scenes of the mid '60s, and his two pioneering Vanguard albums from the latter part of that decade defined a new kind of folk, incorporating East Indian raga as well as the strains of free jazz and psychedelia that were powerfully affecting the sounds of the time. He studied with Indian masters like Ravi Shankar and he was also the musical director for Dr. Timothy Leary's infamous LSD experiments, and along with his associations with "straighter" folkies like Joan Baez and Tim Hardin, you get a pretty good idea of his place in the scene. But of course his music was much more influential with the cognoscenti than it was popular in the mainstream. After a couple of gorgeous LPs, Walker was on the verge of slipping into the warm embrace of obscurity in upstate New York when he organized one last session in Woodstock, at Levon Helm's famously magical home studio. That session, filed away for all these years, was cajoled out of the attic by Tompkins Square, and it is a joy to behold nearly 40 years later. At the center of these six hypnotic tracks is Walker's nimble, nylon-stringed acoustic, as well as his sinewy electric guitar work and Badal Roy's bubbling tabla. Added to the mix at times are Maruga Booker's fluid, jazzy drumming, plus electric bass, flute, saxophone, and even some meditative vocals on "102nd Psalm" -- the beautiful recording quality and loose, inspired playing makes this a solid-gold discovery. -Josh Madell
Resurfacing after nearly four decades of what some might call reclusiveness, but which he might refer to as "intensive study," guitarist Peter Walker is the center of focus for this collection from 2006 bearing his name. Fascinated by flamenco, and its historical connections to ragas, his recent works (of which four are featured here) are at once relaxed and pertinent, showcasing a gloriously warm compositional spirit on the guitar, expressive and effortless in his rampaging stringsmanship. Walker's own works bookend this release, filled the rest of the way by contributions by Thurston Moore, James Blackshaw, Greg Davis, Steffen Basho-Junghans, Jack Rose, and Shawn David McMillen, all of which were inspired by Walker's body of work. These pieces range from vertiginous and fluid (Blackshaw) to moody and iron-wrought (Thurston's "Dirt Raga") to down-enveloped tributes (Rose and McMillan's contributions, in particular, capture Walker's adventurous musical nature). Even if the current wave of acoustic folk guitar heroes isn't your bag, you'd do well to check out this album; its inviting, spiritual nature will provide the stepping stone into deeper listening. -Doug Mosurock
Born in 1919 in a remote corner of North Carolina, Spencer Moore has been playing simple rural country blues since the age of 14, which puts close to 75 years under his belt leading up to the recording and release of this, his debut album. Indeed, Moore is a minor figure in the genre, having performed on a bill with the Carter Family back in the '30s and recording a couple of tracks for Alan Lomax and Shirley Collins in the '50s being his two main brushes with fame. But raw country blues is an oral tradition, best heard on back porches and Sunday picnics throughout the mountains of the Virginias and the Carolinas, and even the legends lived and died in relative obscurity. But this album needs no caveats and no excuses, because Moore's craggy, impassioned vocals and simple guitar strumming can easily speak for themselves, as he reels through 14 of the best songs in his repertoire of hundreds, passed along from singer to singer like a quart-jug of corn-whiskey. "May I Sleep in Your Barn Tonight, Mister," "The Lawson Family Murders," "Little Rosewood Casket," these songs are pure classics, whether or not you know them. And whether Spencer Moore is one of the last remaining ties to a place and time when these stories were an integral part of the fabric of society, or instead just another old farmer wiling away an evening on the back porch with his ancient guitar, this album is a delicious slice of history. -Josh Madell Polk Miller's cylinder recordings from 1909 and records from 1928 are quintessential turn-of-the-century recordings, capturing histories via traditional songs as integral to American music as stars are to the flag. Accompanied by four African American musicians, Miller led one of the first interracial bands traveling the country fronting the "Old Virginia Plantation Negro" show, which was dubbed "utterly American" by Mark Twain. This album features classic gospel traditions like "Old Time Religion," which has been graven into the American collective unconscious throughout modernity by renditions from Leadbelly, Woody Guthrie, Blind Willie McTell, Captain Beefheart, and Ella Jenkins. Yet here it is particularly unique with loud and righteous harmonies, meticulous banjo work, and a clarity rarely heard in recordings this old. Other classics include "Rise and Shine" and "Oh What He's Done for Me." There is something to be said about the earliest recordings of certain songs. Paradoxically, when a tradition turns into an artifact, it lays a tradition to rest while preserving it for eternity. Tompkins Square has done a fine job on this reissue, bringing us a flawless testament to the foundations of American music. The recordings includes a few tunes like "The Watermelon Party," which carries an oral tradition full of characters from African American folklore brought together by catalogues intrinsic to oral traditions and call and response structures contextualizing the narrative. This will sit comfortably right in between your Leadbelly and Doc Boggs albums, bridging the racial divide musically the way the banjo does significantly. The banjo represents American music; the remnants of African traditional instruments, recalled from memory and adapted by both blacks and whites, these songs signify such a melting-pot tradition. These recordings are just as pertinent now as they were when these songs lived, signifying growth and stagnation, progress and regression, all under the canon of traditional American Gospel music. -Brian Cassidy
A gorgeous new solo piano release from 74-year-old national treasure Ran Blake, in which he transforms standards and pop nuggets into vessels of hermetic mystery. He treats these songs as if they were representational sculpture given to him to patiently chip away at with hammer and chisel, leaving abstract forms and shards of flinty melody strewn about the studio. In the span of a minute-and-a-half he crafts Hank Williams' "Lost Highway" into a Morton Feldman-esque exercise in displaced notes, before casually revealing the song's blues genomes in the final thirty seconds. There are countless breathtaking moments just like that here where he subtly conjures a crystal clarity from passages of extreme obliqueness, such as when you can literally see him pulling the clouds back from "You Are My Sunshine." It's a beautiful release, and undoubtedly a late masterpiece for Blake. -Michael Klausman
Released in 2009, How Day Earnt Its Night places Ben Reynolds' steel-string guitar in the good company of contemporaries like Glenn Jones, while simultaneously paying homage to forbearers like Davy Graham and Bert Jansch. For some time now, Reynolds has been releasing droves of fantastic guitar music through some of the most trustworthy independent labels in the psych-folk/avant-improv underground (Time-Lag, Digitalis and Last Visible Dog), and his recent work with Trembling Bells received overwhelmingly positive acclaim. How Day Earnt Its Night is a mellower acoustic side of Reynolds' playing, but a mesmerizing and dazzling side at that. Leaving manipulated, droning improvisations behind, the Glaswegian guitarist tackles traditional folk ballads from both sides of the Atlantic, and he performs them with delicacy and impressive ease. While some arrangements follow more standard renderings, Reynolds makes masterful play with the melodies and structures in songs like the title track and "Death Sings;" and his acoustic improvisations embellish on motifs found in music from both folk traditions, highlighting essential melodies and construing them through his interpretative visions. Fans of Fahey, Basho, Jansch, and American primitive guitar styling in general better get on your horse and check this one out! -Brian Cassidy
Charlie Louvin found success in the 1940s and '50s with his brother Ira and their close-harmony country hit-making duo the Louvin Brothers (their 1956 full-length debut Tragic Songs of Life fully lives up to the promise of the title), and he scored a couple of solo radio hits throughout the '60s. The Brothers had a series of charting country originals with both gentle honky-tonk and darkly redemptive religious music (their 1960 epic Satan Is Real is a twisted and intense country gospel classic). Released in 2007 (his first record in a decade), Louvin reaches out to his many young (hipster) enthusiasts by hooking up with Lambchop producer Mark Nevers, who invited down a full cast of guests, including Will Oldham, Jeff Tweedy, George Jones, Elvis Costello, Tom T. Hall, Mac McCaughan, and Kurt Wagner. The material is a nice cross-section of the Brothers' mainstays, other period classics, and a couple of new titles, and Charlie's voice, while a bit weathered by the years, is still that of a master. -Josh Madell
Perhaps playing off bluesman Mississippi Fred McDowell's famous album title I Do Not Play No Rock 'n' Roll, here we have bluegrass mandolin player extraordinaire Roland White's obscure 1976 release, I Wasn't Born to Rock 'n Roll, lovingly resurrected by the fine folks over at Tompkins Square. Roland, along with his brother Clarence (who was born to rock 'n' roll by the way, being one of the greatest guitarists who has ever lived, as evidenced by his stint in the Byrds, and otherwise) were both members of the pioneering bluegrass band the Kentucky Colonels, creators of surely some of the most remarkable music these ears have ever heard. Following that group's dissolution and Clarence's embrace of the rock 'n' roll lifestyle, brother Roland went on to play in the bands of bluegrass legends Bill Monroe and Lester Flatt. The solo album at hand was issued a couple of years after a reconstituted version of the Kentucky Colonels was cut short by the untimely death of Clarence following a car accident. It's a gem of an album, as laidback and rolling as often as it's firing on all cylinders. The band is perfectly in sync, with Roland's fleet prowess on the mandolin just a wonder to behold. When not doing originals, they dig pretty deep into the bluegrass and old timey canon, so you're never stuck hearing a version of a song you've heard 5,000 times before. -Michael Klausman |
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West Coast avant-popstress 
