Record Reviews
📝 2096 reviews| Artist | Title | Review |
|---|---|---|
| Ry Cooder | Chicken Skin Music | <p>Ry Cooder has always believed in the "mutuality in music," and this may be no more evident in his career than with his fifth album, Chicken Skin Music (a Hawaiian colloquialism, synonymous with goosebumps). Even more than usual, Cooder refuses to recognize borders -- geographical or musical -- presenting "Stand By Me" as a gospel song with a norteño arrangement, or giving the Jim Reeves country-pop classic, "He'll Have to Go," a bolero rhythm, featuring the interplay of Flaco Jimenez's accordion and Pat Rizzo's alto sax. Elsewhere, he teams with a pair of Hawaiian greats -- steel guitarist and singer Gabby Pahinui and slack key guitar master Atta Isaacs -- on the Hank Snow hit "Yellow Roses" and the beautiful instrumental "Chloe." If Cooder's approach to the music is stylistically diverse, his choice of material certainly follows suit. Bookended by a couple of Leadbelly compositions, Chicken Skin Music sports a collection of songs ranging from the aforementioned tracks to the charming old minstrel/medicine show number "I Got Mine" and the syncopated R&B of "Smack Dab in the Middle." Also included is Appalachian songwriter Blind Alfred Reed's "Always Lift Him Up," complete with a Hawaiian gospel tune, "Kanaka Wai Wai," woven into the instrumental section. As he explains in the album's liner notes, Cooder understands the connection between these seemingly disparate styles. This is not merely eclecticism for its own sake. Chicken Skin Music is probably Ry Cooder's most eccentric record since his first, but it's also one of his most entertaining.</p><p>—<strong>Brett Hartenbach</strong></p> |
| Ry Cooder | Showtime | <p>Following the odd, but entertaining Hawaiian, southwestern mix of Chicken Skin Music, Ry Cooder hit the road with a group of Tex-Mex musicians led by the great accordionist Flaco Jiminez. To make things even more interesting, he also included three soul- and gospel-based backup singers in the lineup (two of whom had appeared on Chicken Skin Music). Recorded in December of 1976, over a span of two nights in San Francisco, Show Time documents these shows by Cooder and his "Chicken Skin Revue." And while Cooder's guitar -- along with his usual eclectic assortment of songs -- is the star of the show, each of the principles has his chance to shine throughout the evening. Terry Evans, Bobby King, and Eldridge King's soulful rendition of "The Dark End of the Street," as well as the lovely "Volver, Volver," which features Jiminez, are a couple of the highlights. Cooder's selection of material here is as eclectic as ever, but Jiminez and the band stay with him every step of the way. They seem equally at home with the R&B of "Smack Dab in the Middle" as they do with the Jiminez instrumental "Viva Seguin," which leads into a Tex-Mex reworking of Woody Guthrie's "Do Re Mi." Still, as good as the fit may be between leader and band, it's the Negro spiritual, "Jesus on the Mainline," stripped down to just four voices and Cooder's remarkable bottleneck, that's the real showstopper here. Cooder is not usually one to stray too far outside the confines of the song on record, but in this setting he gets a chance to really stretch. Like most live recordings, Show Time isn't necessarily essential, though there's enough to make it worthwhile for fans. Also, included is a terrific Dixieland take on Gary "U.S." Bonds' "School Is Out" recorded with the same band in the studio.</p><p>—<strong>Brett Hartenbach</strong></p> |
| Ry Cooder | Jazz | <p>Beginning with his self-titled debut in 1970, Ry Cooder's records seemed to be as much history lesson as they were entertainment. Not because Cooder was trying to club you over the head with this stuff; he simply gravitated to great songs, no matter what the era or genre. Released in 1978, Jazz seems to be his first conscious attempt at a concept album, in the historical sense. Here he pays homage to some of the early tunes and masters of jazz, ranging from the late 1800s through the "coon songs" of the early part of the next century, to the ragtime and "Spanish" music of Jelly Roll Morton, and the sophistication of cornetist Bix Beiderbecke. The only living artist (at the time of release) who's represented here is the great Bahamian guitarist Joseph Spence, who recorded from the '50s through the '80s, and whose syncopated style was extremely influential in Cooder's own development as a guitarist. Spence's sacred songs are presented here in string and brass band arrangements that emphasize the Caribbean connection between his music and Morton's habaniera pieces. The complexity of the material on Jazz, as well as the arrangements by Joseph Byrd, dictate that this is Cooder's most polished and orchestrated effort to date. Whereas in the past, even at their most removed, Cooder's records usually kept at least one foot in rock & roll or blues, Jazz can, at times, lack some of that fire and be almost bookish in its approach. Still, there is enough excitement in the music's intricacies and Cooder's beautiful, fluid playing to forgive the politeness of some of the performances. From the informative liner notes by Ry Cooder himself to the brilliant compositions, Jazz is, at the very least, educational. But, a little time spent with this music and you'll see why it was and continues to be relevant, as well as beloved.</p><p>—<strong>Brett Hartenbach</strong></p> |
| Ry Cooder | Borderline | <p>With 1980's Borderline, Ry Cooder followed the foray into R&B and soul of his previous effort, Bop Till You Drop, but this time out with a little shot of the Southwest thrown in. At the same time, he also continues the primarily electric sound of that record. As far as his selection of material goes, Borderline may sometimes lack the surprising, esoteric charm of his earlier recordings, but there are still some terrific finds, including the Tex-Mex-flavored "The Girls from Texas," which may be the album's finest moment. Other highlights include one of John Hiatt's best, the written-to-order "The Way We Make a Broken Heart," as well as Billy "The Kid" Emerson's "Crazy 'Bout an Automobile," which Cooder had been performing live for a number of years, and the soulful Maurice & Mac treasure "Why Don't You Try Me." And while it's moments like these that help make Cooder's records special, he also takes on some better-known '50s and '60s offerings with moderate success. His recording of Wilson Pickett's 1966 hit "634-5789" isn't going to make anyone forget the original, but he's able to pull it off as a rocker, while "Speedo" and "Down in the Boondocks" are respectable covers. Borderline may not have the singular personality of his best '70s work, but it's a solid outing nonetheless.</p><p>—<strong>Brett Hartenbach</strong></p> |
| Ry Cooder | The Border | <p>The folks at Raven Records in Australia must have a blast assembling projects. This pairing of two 1980s Ry Cooder soundtracks is a case in point. The Border, composed and released in 1982, was the soundtrack to Tony Richardson's film The Border, and 1985's Alamo Bay was directed by Louis Malle. The interesting thing about these soundtracks is that they come immediately after Cooder's successful collaboration with Walter Hill on The Long Riders and Southern Comfort, and as the before-and-after bookends to his enigmatic score for Wim Wenders' Paris, Texas. The score for The Border is perfectly balanced. Cooder's slide work is always touted, but also noteworthy is his ability to virtually disappear in the mix when collaborating with Flaco Jimenez, Freddy Fender, Jim Dickinson, Jim Keltner, and Sam "The Sham" Samudio. The haunting title track, "Across the Borderline," sung by Fender, is among the most beautiful and literate cuts Cooder has ever written. The cantina music by Jimenez and Samudio is utterly evocative. Check the tunes with Samudio on vocals, such as "Palomita" and "No Quiero," to get the laid-back, sun-up feel. Then there's John Hiatt. Hiatt was at the beginning of his association with Cooder. He helped to pen some of the better cuts on the set, including the aforementioned "Across the Borderline" and the bluesy garage rock jam "Skin Game." His high-whine vocals are perfect for the tension between cultures and reflect the conflict of Jack Nicholson's character as a principled U.S. border guard. Alamo Bay, Malle's picture that pits American shrimpers against refugee Vietnamese on the south coast of Texas, is another study in contrasts. Once more, Cooder assembles an all-star band that includes Hiatt, Cesar Rosas, David Hidalgo, Lee Ving, Van Dyke Parks, David Lindley, Keltner, Chris Ethridge, David Mansfield, and Dickinson. The theme features Cooder's acoustic slide amidst strings (including Gayle Levant's harp), piano, and ambient sounds. The ethereal airy feel is swallowed whole by the raunchy electric roadhouse blues of "Gooks on Main Street," and dislocated once more on the country ballad "Too Close," performed by Hiatt with actress Amy Madigan, only to shift again with the sinister slide guitar and harmonica Eastern modal blues of "Klan Meeting," an instrumental. The score weaves and wends through barroom shouters, panoramic instrumentals, ballads, Tex Mex, and conjunto. Placing both recordings on a single disc is a rare and exotic treat, and gives great insight into the complex yet visionary artist Cooder is, and just how his music is the perfect accompaniment to visuals yet stands completely on its own.</p><p>—<strong>Thom Jurek</strong></p> |
| Ry Cooder | The Slide Area | <p>This CD opens with an outrageous and exceedingly funky "UFO Has Landed in the Ghetto," and which seems so out of place with the other material. Yes, it is a rhythm & blues, bordering at times on funk album, and rap is one direction R&B took, but.... Listen to the groove on "Which Came First," and try to keep your body from bobbing to the strong rhythm laid down by Jim Keltner, Tim Drummond, and the background vocalists. While we are on the subject of vocals, this is one of Ry Cooder's best efforts, and his backup vocalists are key here and deserve special recognition: Bobby King, John Hiatt, Willie Greene, and Herman Johnson for most of the CD. The two gems on this are the phenomenal treatments of both "Blue Suede Shoes" and Bob Dylan's "I Need a Woman." Two songs as different in the original forms as pigs and gerbils are converted to R&B hit status. Both contain some memorable slide guitar work, but isn't that what we expect from this master of the guitar family. The album is very good but those two songs make it a gem.</p><p>—<strong>Bob Gottlieb</strong></p> |
| Ry Cooder | The Border | <p>The folks at Raven Records in Australia must have a blast assembling projects. This pairing of two 1980s Ry Cooder soundtracks is a case in point. The Border, composed and released in 1982, was the soundtrack to Tony Richardson's film The Border, and 1985's Alamo Bay was directed by Louis Malle. The interesting thing about these soundtracks is that they come immediately after Cooder's successful collaboration with Walter Hill on The Long Riders and Southern Comfort, and as the before-and-after bookends to his enigmatic score for Wim Wenders' Paris, Texas. The score for The Border is perfectly balanced. Cooder's slide work is always touted, but also noteworthy is his ability to virtually disappear in the mix when collaborating with Flaco Jimenez, Freddy Fender, Jim Dickinson, Jim Keltner, and Sam "The Sham" Samudio. The haunting title track, "Across the Borderline," sung by Fender, is among the most beautiful and literate cuts Cooder has ever written. The cantina music by Jimenez and Samudio is utterly evocative. Check the tunes with Samudio on vocals, such as "Palomita" and "No Quiero," to get the laid-back, sun-up feel. Then there's John Hiatt. Hiatt was at the beginning of his association with Cooder. He helped to pen some of the better cuts on the set, including the aforementioned "Across the Borderline" and the bluesy garage rock jam "Skin Game." His high-whine vocals are perfect for the tension between cultures and reflect the conflict of Jack Nicholson's character as a principled U.S. border guard. Alamo Bay, Malle's picture that pits American shrimpers against refugee Vietnamese on the south coast of Texas, is another study in contrasts. Once more, Cooder assembles an all-star band that includes Hiatt, Cesar Rosas, David Hidalgo, Lee Ving, Van Dyke Parks, David Lindley, Keltner, Chris Ethridge, David Mansfield, and Dickinson. The theme features Cooder's acoustic slide amidst strings (including Gayle Levant's harp), piano, and ambient sounds. The ethereal airy feel is swallowed whole by the raunchy electric roadhouse blues of "Gooks on Main Street," and dislocated once more on the country ballad "Too Close," performed by Hiatt with actress Amy Madigan, only to shift again with the sinister slide guitar and harmonica Eastern modal blues of "Klan Meeting," an instrumental. The score weaves and wends through barroom shouters, panoramic instrumentals, ballads, Tex Mex, and conjunto. Placing both recordings on a single disc is a rare and exotic treat, and gives great insight into the complex yet visionary artist Cooder is, and just how his music is the perfect accompaniment to visuals yet stands completely on its own.</p><p>—<strong>Thom Jurek</strong></p> |
| Ry Cooder | Blue City | |
| Ry Cooder | Paris, Texas | Suggestive of both the imagery of Wim Wenders' movie Paris, Texas and the desert itself, Ry Cooder's score is a peaceful, poetic journey into the soul of an acoustic guitar. "Paris, Texas," "Brothers," and "Nothing Out There" open the album as meditative blends of guitar twang and scratching ambient effects. The songs move at a pretty, slow place, and the opening track sees Cooder plucking his guitar's strings and letting that sound vibrate into thin air; it's a motif that he returns to repeatedly throughout the score. There's a bit of both humor and mystery to the stillness and the echoing, edgy sound effects that crop up. "Cancion Mixteca" includes a memorable turn on vocals by Harry Dean Stanton, singing in Spanish. "No Safety Zone" is almost completely ambient in its ethics, with fleeting experimental guitar playing, as the song works more as a mood-setter than a traditional song. "I Knew These People" begins with an extended segment of dialogue from the film before Cooder's somber guitar creeps in. The effect of the dialogue makes the track a fine, artistic statement, but the moment works better in the context of the movie than as a track on an album. The dialogue comes from a scene where the characters played by Stanton and Nastassja Kinski have a particularly emotional meeting. The majority of the score is delicate and stunningly pretty. The overall sense is that Cooder was reaching for spare, emotional movements. The score is stark, quiet, and as uplifting as it is sad. Cooder makes the music sound as modern and stylish as acoustic music can sound. The album is at once alien and organic. Since "I Knew These People" includes dialogue from Paris, Texas, the score works best for people who have seen the movie, but it's still a powerful and immensely evocative journey for those whose experience with the material is the album alone.<p>—<strong>Tim DiGravina</strong></p> |
| Ry Cooder | Crossroads | <p>The ersatz blues story of the film gives Ry Cooder leeway to turn in an impressive blues-derived soundtrack featuring Sonny Terry along with his usual collaborators Van Dyke Parks, Jim Keltner, Nathan East, and others. But it's Cooder's guitar playing that highlights the album.</p><p>—<strong>William Ruhlmann</strong></p> |
| Ry Cooder | Pecos Bill | <p>Robin Williams brings his own manic shape-shifting gifts as actor and comedian to a hilarous, unpredictable reading. He preserves the basic strengths of this lively tale while injecting a uniquely crazed vision that will keep parents at least as happy as their enraptured kids. Ry Cooder adds his own brilliance as arranger and chief picker in this series of instrumental vignettes that evoke a story's larger-than-life Old West milieu.</p><p>—<strong>All Music</strong></p> |
| Ry Cooder | Johnny Handsome | |
| Ry Cooder | Cooder / Lindley Family Live At The Vienna Opera House | |
| Ry Cooder | Trespass | <p>Cooder's underscore for Trespass, performed with the help of drummer Jim Keltner and trumpeter Jon Hassell, is a moody, dark piece of work quite a bit removed from Cooder's usual territory -- Cooder has taken experimental jazz as a main influence here, mixing that with tones available from modern instruments and studio processing. The result is edgy and grim, so effective that even at low volume the music comes snarling at you.</p><p>—<strong>Steven McDonald</strong></p> |
| Ry Cooder | A Meeting By The River | <p>A Meeting by the River can best be described as a spontaneous outpouring of music, unhindered by convention or form, brought into being by musicians so supremely capable that the music is never labored, the technique of their craft always subservient to the final product. Cooder and Bhatt are genuine masters of the guitar and mohan vina, respectively. The latter, an instrument created by Bhatt himself, is a sort of hybrid between a guitar and a vichitra vina, and is played with a metal slide. This fact is just one of the many things that connect Bhatt's playing to Cooder's, who plays nothing but bottleneck guitar here. The musical interplay between Cooder and Bhatt is nothing short of astounding, especially so considering that they met for the first time only a half-hour before the recording of this album. The voices of the two instruments blend marvelously, first alternating melodic statements, then doing so together, each dancing around the other, playing cat and mouse, probing, answering, reflecting. They are ably accompanied by a pair of percussionists: tabla player Sukhvinder Singh Namdhari and Cooder's own son, Joachim, on dumbek. A Meeting by the River is one of those few cross-genre albums in which the listener never feels for a second that there is some kind of fusion going on; one does not hear the component parts so much as the integrated whole. However, one can theoretically separate guitar from vina, America from India, the Mississippi from the Ganges. Once this is done, the resulting music makes more sense than ever before, the combination of two traditions of stringed instruments that use slides to produce sound and value improvisation and voice-like phrasing. As good as this sounds on paper, the actual results are even more impressive. The splendor of the music is aided in its transmission by the fact that, like all Water Lily Acoustics releases, this album is masterfully recorded; each instrument is clear, distinct, and three-dimensional sounding. A Meeting by the River is a must-own, a thing of pure, unadulterated beauty, and the strongest record in Cooder's extensive catalog.</p><p>—<strong>Daniel Gioffre</strong></p> |
| Ry Cooder | Buena Vista Social Club (DVD) | <p>This album is named after a members-only club that was opened in Havana in pre-Castro times, a period of unbelievable musical activity in Cuba. While bandleader Desi Arnaz became a huge hit in the States, several equally talented musicians never saw success outside their native country, and have had nothing but their music to sustain them during the Castro reign. Ry Cooder went to Cuba to record a musical documentary of these performers. Many of the musicians on this album have been playing for more than a half century, and they sing and play with an obvious love for the material. Cooder could have recorded these songs without paying the musicians a cent; one can imagine them jumping up and grabbing for their instruments at the slightest opportunity, just to play. Most of the songs are a real treasure, traversing a lot of ground in Cuba's musical history. There's the opening tune, "Chan Chan," a composition by 89-year-old Compay Segundo, who was a bandleader in the '50s; the cover of the early-'50s tune "De Camino a la Verada," sung by the 72-year-old composer Ibrahim Ferrer, who interrupted his daily walk through Havana just long enough to record; or the amazing piano playing on "Pablo Nuevo" by 77-year-old Rubén González, who has a unique style that blends jazz, mambo, and a certain amount of playfulness. All of these songs were recorded live -- some of them in the musicians' small apartments -- and the sound is incredibly deep and rich, something that would have been lost in digital recording and overdubbing. Cooder brought just the right amount of reverence to this material, and it shows in his production, playing, and detailed liner notes. If you get one album of Cuban music, this should be the one.</p><p>—<strong>Steve McMullen</strong></p> |
| Ry Cooder | Chavez Ravine | <p>Three years in the making, <i>Chavez Ravine: A Record by Ry Cooder</i>, is his first "solo" offering since 1987's <i>Get Rhythm</i>. In addition, it is a concept album; but don't be afraid. It documents in mythical style the disappeared Los Angeles neighborhood of Chavez Ravine, a Mexican-American district that fought over by real etate developers, urban planning activists and city government. It was bulldozed in a sleazy deal was cut and it was razed order to erect a stadium that woiuld lure Walter O'Malley's Brooklyn Dodgers to L.A. Cooder's work has almost always concerned itself with what has been left out, marginalized, or relegated to the place of memory; it was inspired by a book of black-and-white photographs of the area by Don Normark. Over the course of its 15 songs Cooder poignantly, yet warmly, sets out to portray the flavor of the place, times, culture, chaos, and corruption of post-war Los Angeles. Here UFOs, the Red Scare, the Pachuco Scare, boxers, cops, hipster "cool cats," ordinary folks, race politics, class war, the radio, J. Edgar Hoover, baseball, and of course musicians, slip in and out of this steamy, dreamy, seamless mix that evokes an emotional palette rich and complex. The tunes range from boxy corridos, Latin swing numbers, guaraches, Afro-Cuban sons, smoky polkas, moody atmospheric pieces, riotous good-time Pachuco boogie, rootsy rock, Costa Rican folk songs, and R&B tunes.</p> <p>Heroes and villains come and go in this panorama, all winding around in the little neighborhood where people hang out, sing, dance, make love, struggle and sweat for a better life in the American Dream. Sung in Spanish and English, Cooder sought out musicians from the era and the place, including the late Pachuco boogie boss Don Tosti, the late legendary Lalo Guerrero (the guiding force and spirit of the album who also passed away after contributing), Ersi Arvizu, and Little Willie G., all of whom appear with Joachim Cooder, Juliette & Carla Commagere, Jim Keltner, Flaco Jimenez, Mike Elizondo, Gil Bernal, Ledward Kaapana, Joe Rotunde, Rosella Arvizu, and others. "Poor Man's Shangri-La," is a finger-popping rhumba where the extraterrestrial Space Vato beams down in a UFO to check out the 'hood to the sounds of Little Julian Herrera on the radio. Little Willie G. and the Commagere Sisters offer the lilting "Onda Calljera," a folk song documenting a war between locally stationed military and pachucos. Chavez Ravine is an intricately woven web of covers including "3 Cool Cats," by Leiber & Stoller, Guerrero's "Corrido de Boxeo" and "Barrio Viejo," and originals like the cinematic "Don't Call Me Red" (where the taped voices of Frank Wilkinson, Jack Webb, and Raymond Burr all dialogue intensely about the FBI and communist activities) and "3rd Base, Dodger Stadium," sung by longtime Cooder mate James Bla Pahinui -- who plays the part of a stadium car parker whose home was covered over by the hot corner in the ballpark. Chavez Ravine is sad and beautiful, funny, quirky and funky; it's got dirt under its nails and keeps listeners engaged from the jump with history and its colorful ghosts. Cooder sends it all off with solace, and perhaps with some hope, in a version of "Soy Luz y Sombra," a gorgeous a cappella Costa Rican folk tune with original music. Chavez Ravine is easily the most ambitious thing in Cooder's catalog, and it just may be the grand opus of his career.</p>— <b>Thom Jurek</b> |
| Ry Cooder | Pull Up Some Dust and Sit Down | <p>Pull Up Some Dust and Sit Down, issued between two national election cycles, is the most overtly political album Ry Cooder has ever released, and one of his funniest, most musically compelling ones, too. Cooder looks deeply into his musical past using his entire Americana musical arsenal: blues, folk, ragtime, norteño, rock, and country here. Opener "No Banker Left Behind" updates Civil War-era marching music. Cooder's guitar, banjo, bass, and mandola lead drummer (and son) Joachim through a scathing indictment of the the financial bailout in 2007. The marching rhythms are punched through with sharp banjo and mandola riffs as Cooder's signature electric guitar sound frames them. "El Corrido Jesse James" has the outlaw speaking from heaven in waltz time. Accompanied by Flaco Jimenez's accordion and a horn section, James claims that while he was a bank robber, he never "turned a family from their house," and asks God for his trusty .44 to "put that bonus money back where it belongs." "Quick Sand" is a shuffling electric rocker that addresses the plight of illegal immigrants crossing into Arizona. "Christmas Time This Year" is the most incendiary anti-war song in a decade, presented innocently as a Mexican polka. "Lord Tell Me Why" borrows production techniques from Tom Waits, with co-writer and drummer Jim Keltner who assists in getting across this biting, ironic gospel tune: "Lord tell me why a white man/Ain't worth nothin' in this world no more...." An 11-piece band assists in "I Want My Crown," a scorching, growling blues with Cooder's nasty guitar leading the charge. It's followed by the album's finest moment, "John Lee Hooker for President," where Cooder does a shockingly accurate impression of the late bluesman, in fine boogie mode, paying a visit to the White House, not liking what he sees, and deciding to run for office: "I'm compastatic. I ain't Republican or Democratic." He names Jimmy Reed as Veep and Johnny Taylor Secretary of State. His campaign promises swift retribution for injustice and a "groove time" for the nation. If only. The depth of Cooder's rage is quieter but more direct as the album draws to a close. In "If There Is a God," God's been driven from heaven by redistricting; he, "Jesus, Mary and Joe" all hit the road for Mexico. God goes so far as to say he thinks the "Republiklan" legislature wants to bring back Jim Crow laws. Cooder's sorrow about the environment is pervasive in the final corrido, though he, like the Buddha, leaves room for tolerance, wishing his enemies "No Hard Feelings." Those who've followed Cooder from the beginning will find much to love on Pull Up Some Dust and Sit Down. Those music fans unfamiliar with his work but looking for a comrade in arms will find one here. That said, this is revolution music; worthy of dancing to, learning from, and singing along with: who says topical music has to be boring?</p><p>—<strong>Thom Jurek</strong></p> |
| Greg Copeland | Revenge Will Come | |
| Larry Corryell | Spaces |
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