|Bailalo Si Te Atreves||Jimmy Bosch||4:30|
|Maracayero / Jimmy Bosch||Jimmy Bosch||7:12|
|Foreclosure Ejecución De Una Hipoteca [Dj Mix] / Jimmy Bosch||Jimmy Bosch||5:23|
|Mujeres Mandan / Jimmy Bosch||Jimmy Bosch||4:42|
|Te Adoro Mami / Jimmy Bosch||Jimmy Bosch||4:04|
|Cuantas Veces / Jimmy Bosch||Jimmy Bosch||6:30|
|Quedate / Jimmy Bosch||Jimmy Bosch||6:25|
|Alma Compartido||Jimmy Bosch||5:15|
|Foreclosure Ejecución De Una Hipoteca [Full Version]||Jimmy Bosch||12:59|
After the relatively straightforward pop of Wish, the Cure moved back toward stranger, edgier territory with Wild Mood Swings. Actually, that's only part of the truth. As the title suggests, there's a vast array of textures and emotions on Wild Mood Swings, from the woozy mariachi lounge horns of "The 13th" to the perfect pop of "Mint Car" and the monolithic dirge of "Want." In between the extremes, Robert Smith and the Cure -- which now feature a radically reworked lineup, with several key players from Wish now missing -- explore some simpler territory, from contemplative acoustic numbers tinged with strings to swooning neo-psychedelia. But what ties it all together is conviction -- Smith sounds more content than he ever has, but he sings with more passion than he has for a number of years. Of course, the Cure haven't significantly changed their sound -- tinny synthesizers and guitar effects that haven't appeared on an album since 1988 are in abundance throughout the record -- but the variety of sounds and strength of performance offers enough surprises to make Wild Mood Swings more than just another Cure record.
Few pop groups were as irrelevant in 1966 as the New Christy Minstrels' extended acoustic folk aggregate. Although the title New Kick! (1966) projects an optimistic future, internally the combo was split between its consistent demand as a live act and creatively disappointing outings such as this.
By the mid-'60s none of the founding Christys remained in the fold.
The lack of a central musical force or direction left them at the collective mercies of their management team, who owned the name and admittedly knew more about the Christys' payroll than their play list. The steady stream of new talent infuses the material with a fresh perspective, although some arrangements are inevitably better than others. Unfortunately, the album opens with a less-than-inspired overhaul of Paul Simon's "Homeward Bound." The melodramatic ensemble reading all but removing the intimacy of the original and is certainly incongruous given the introspective lyrics. Here, it is akin to a Mitch Miller singalong or an Up With People presentation.
A slow and moody cover of "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" follows to equally erratic results, recalling the Sandpipers' swipe at "Things We Said Today" -- the latter of which would be considered comparatively successful. The tide turns however for an affective "Highflyin' Bird" (aka "High Flying Bird") as Bob Buchanan's husky lead harks back to Fred Neil or Hoyt Axton and similarly shines on "A Corner in the Sun." Sadly, any goodwill is rescinded by the inappropriate galloping pace and feigned drama on the overhaul of Bob Dylan's "Blowin' in the Wind" or the worst (or best, depending on how you're keeping score) offender, "These Boots Are Made for Walkin'." So unconvincing is the Christys' borderline farcical and socially out-of-sync interpretation, it easily makes a case for co-dependant relationships. The New Christy Minstrels continued for several more years, even scoring a final entry on the Top 200 LP chart as late as 1970.
Yet undeniably, the soul of the Christys had dissipated to the point of the unit becoming nothing short of a caricature of its former glory less than a half-decade earlier.
The daughter of the Brazilian pianist/singer Eliane Elias and trumpeter Randy Brecker, singer/songwriter Amanda Brecker had already released two noteworthy albums in Japan in 2008 and 2009. 2012's Blossom is her first album released in the U.S.
on the Emarcy label. Brecker reinterprets 11 classic songs that were written mainly by singer/songwriter Carole King. King's soft rock and soul classics are a perfect vehicle for the singer's crossover jazz arrangements, especially on "You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman," "You've Got a Friend," "So Far Away," "Will You Love me Tomorrow," and "It's Too Late." Grammy-winning songwriter Jesse Harris produced the session and, in keeping with the album's theme, employed drummer Russ Kunkel and bassist Lee Sklar, who played on the original Tapestry recording sessions. The release of Blossom also coincides with the 40th anniversary of Tapestry's release.
Aloha display their dazzlingly accessible post-rock grafting of jazz, prog-rock, spacy electronics, and pop on this superb five-song, 20-minute EP. The record has something of a live feel, giving the listener a quick snatch of what the actual Aloha experience is all about: by turns laconic, loose, taut, and electric; one moment diving into electronic expanses, the next offering up a sweet, lazy pop song, and then imploding into a phased, agitated jazz jam. In fact, the album was captured in two days (with an additional few days of overdubs and mixing), so the off-the-cuff energy is not simply a lucky by-product, but a true representation of the band. As could be expected, the instrumentation is ridiculously eclectic. On the basic instrumentation side, Tony Cavallario's rhythm guitar playing is infinitely textured and interesting, while Matthew Gengler's bass sounds bottomless and shows an unparalleled grasp of spatial depth; beneath their interplay, Cale Parks scatters atmospheric snare and cymbal beats in every direction, as if John Densmore were backing Captain Beefheart's Magic Band.
Eric Koltnow is the linchpin of the band's complex mixture. He plays everything from piano and synthesizer to glockenspiel, but it's his vibe playing that's directly at the center of the Aloha sound. Vibes take over songs such as "Roanoke Born" and "Gary's Narrator," sending them into ethereal jazz territory. Equally important in all this, though, are Cavallario's lovely vocals. His voice sketches out what are, for all intents and purposes, relaxed pop melodies. To call Aloha a pop band, however, is misleading and too constrictive for their beautiful music. They end The Great Communicators with an electronically ominous instrumental, and it is that tension between their pretty (albeit idiosyncratic) pop inclinations and their complex, percussive instrumental attack that makes Aloha's music so immaculately evocative.