The finest Mojo comps should do one of a few things:
I ran out of time coming into today, so it's time for an easy write up. The fifth in the series of six Infinite Zero samplers; this one is one of the more comprehensive, coming as it did in the last year of the reissue label's existence. Most of these are available here on the ol' blog; just type in Inifnite Zero and expand your mind. I'm feeling the cover of this one most of all; the caricature of Rollins, flanked by the Def American and Infinite Zero logos, big, stronge fonts. It's a golden joy to behold.
While lacking the superior graphic design and the even-deeper record selection, it's no surprise that my early exposure to these drew me into an ongoing love of the Numero Group and Light in the Attic. I kind of got a kick out of watch the Grammy pre-broadcast show on YouTube tonight, seeing Numero's 90 Day Men set get a Grammy nom. It's great to see even the most obscure bands get beloved treatment, the expense of which makes a hell of a lot more sense then that double LP Chappel Roan release at $50 retail.
I'm all over the place tonight; forgive me, friends. I'm looking at a big record purge within the month, so my head isn't thinking about anything particular.
This is the last of the mid-90s reissues of James Chance's records, re-released by Infinite Zero. Let's face it; it's my least preferred Chance release, but it's still pretty damned good. And if you're stopping by here, you're probably a degenerate completist like I am, so you'll download it anyway.
I passed up a very nicely priced Japanese pressing of the Contortions' "Buy" over the weekend, along with Eno's three 70s art rock records on Editions EG. I brought home pretty of good stuff, to be fair, but those are the ones I've thought about since Saturday. C'est la vie; life will go on.
I have been debating when to write about this, what it means to me. Posting a few days before my 47th birthday seems as apropos as any.
As for what to say...well, I've written and deleted about 2,000 words so far. Awfully verbose for an otherwise terse typist, but there's a lot of feeling wrapped up in this freebie from the third year of CMJ New Music Monthly giveaways. It was, indeed, my introduction to Letters to Cleo and Ben Folds Five. That pair of 90s alternative mainstays were key bonding points between the missus and I during our early courting. Urge Overkill and Cracker were getting regular airplay on WHFS, along with Big Audio Dynamite. I'll admit: even at this late date, I still have fond memories of Hagfish's "Stamp", one of the best songs from 1995 about cunnilingus. Even cuts from Folk Implosion and S.C.O.T.S. are stuck in my head 29 years later.
This one's important for track 9. My upbringing exposed me to showtunes, soul music, and country, with a smattering of contemporary pop/rock. But jazz was something I just never encountered until that day in late summer 1995 that I picked up this issue of CMJ. Hearing the second part of "A Love Supreme" was like a lightning bolt from heaven. From those first notes plucked by Jimmy Garrison, I was hooked. I've written a few times about John Coltrane and what his music means to me, Well, this is the Rosetta Stone. This is the thing that unlocked so much; my obsession with Coltrane, my love of free jazz and the avant-garde, my introduction to the vast catalog of Impulse! Records.
Discogs tells me I currently own five copies of "A Love Supreme": cassette and vinyl copies from the mid-80s on MCA Impulse!, a vinyl pressing from 1995, the 2002 Deluxe Edition on 2xCD, and my most recent purchase: the 3xCD "Complete Masters" from 2015. Honestly, that number feels a bit low; I feel like I have to have at least another two CD versions kicking around, and there's a reel to reel that I've been sniffing around about for the past six months. I have a problem; whatever...it's my version of a mid-life crisis.
Anyway, there's Malfunkshun on this, too.
I initially had another release planned for today; you'll get that one next Monday.
But then James Chance passed away Tuesday, June 18th, and I felt like it was a good time to share this label sampler from 30 years ago. I remember finding this in the promo bin at the first record store I worked in, just a year after it came out. But it was a revelation for me, led off by the Contortions' "Design To Kill", and followed by the likes of Devo, Gang of Four, Alan Vega, and Tom Verlaine. Hell, there's a LL Cool J track here. I'm guessing it's a result of Infinite Zero being a Rick Rubin/Henry Rollins joint venture.
RIP to a real one. There ain't many of his like left.
I swear to God, I didn't die in a ditch over New Year's.
I actually went to the in laws in Central California, where I had a pretty rad time with my recently mobile and speechifying niece. But I forgot to bring my laptop, which meant a month without any blogging. Sorry, gang.
I may come back later to flesh this one out. I don't have much in mind right this second, so stay tuned for the postscript. It's ridiculous that this one hasn't been reissued for 30 years, and that the Ayler cut that appeared on the original LP isn't present on this 1994 GRP/Impulse! CD. Still, it's a killer early document of the burgeoning free jazz scene in NYC, one that drew pretty polarized reviews back in the day.
Either you get it, or you don't.
A lesson in cognitive dissonance and prejudice:
"Jazz funk" has always been a bit of a punchline in my house, going back to being a kid, and my mom's best friend's husband being snickered at for his fandom (and prog rock, too). And, to borrow a term from another culture, it has such poncy connotations. It stinks of pipe smoke and open shirts down to the belly button and fart-smelling virtuosity and gatekeeping and every 70s excess, not to mention white dudes co-opting Black and Latin culture. It was damned near the worst, personified (rightly or wrongly) by Ron Burgundy playing jazz flute in "Anchorman". Just fucking obnoxious.
And yet! I got a promo of this, the final volume in a long running series of Polygram/EMI deep catalog comps, when it came out in '97. I held onto it because I knew Alice Coltrane and Pharoah Sanders from their shared association with the Master himself. I'm glad I did, because every track here is a full-blown banger. Drawing from the likes of the Impulse!, Blue Note, A&M, CTI, and Columbia catalogs, there's a wealth of great tracks from great artists, a veritable crate digger's delight of cuts. It's the first chance to hear "Nautilus" outside of a sample, the first time I'd ever experienced Roy Ayers and Donald Byrd, This one is sneaky good if you can get past your own hang-ups.
I mean, shit, if I'm going to talk about Trane for a minute, how about another deep cut tribute featuring a pair of his sidemen.
This one came on out Impulse! back in the late 80s, featuring pianist McCoy Tyner and saxophonist Pharoah Sanders playing three Coltrane compositions, along with a Tyner track, a Billy Eckstein song, and one by David Murray that I typically skip over.
That's your call, homey.
Yet another one that I think is worthy of reissue; Pharoah pretty much wails on this. Great to hear him play "Naima" alongside Tyner. I think it gets missed because it came out in that weird "MCA/Impulse!" period when the catalog was probably not being paid close attention to, and just as a new generation of freaks was starting to discover the likes of Sun Ra and Archie Shepp.
Anyway, dig on it.
It took from May to August 2000 to go from 100 to 200 posts. Then I hit 300 posts two days before Christmas 2000. And now I'm here, anot...
