“Easter Parade” (1957) – Eddie Mitchell and His Orchestra * Written by Irving Berlin * 45: “Easter Parade” / “Freddie’s New Calypso” * Label: ABC-Paramount A 1950 version on the Derby label (for whom tenor sax player Eddie Mitchell led the house band) has greater notoriety as a left-field hit. It reached #7 on the R&B chart, draping Irving Berlin’s candied squaresville melody in cavernous sounds, clanking saloon piano, and spontaneous vibes. But this 1957 redo on ABC-Paramount has more grab to it, sounding premeditated in the sense that the players knew a) that it would work and b) that they were in for a good time.
“Hare Krishna Mantra Chant” (1966) – A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami * LP: Krishna Consciousness * Label: Happening Records The charm of this 1966 album, one of the primary sources for the rise of Krishna consciousness beyond India (complete with an Allen Ginsberg endorsement on the back), is its simplicity. The message, as demonstrated in track one (presented here), and explained by A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhubada himself on track two, is the inner peace one can find through chanting the holy names of Krishna. Prabhubada made enough of a countercultural impression that observers were liable to view him as just another contemporary religious cult figure, one of the many who paraded through lifestyle avenues of the late sixties and early seventies. In truth, Prabhubada was a Vedic scholar and guru with a communicative flair, an eye- and ear-catching branch from the Banyan tree of Hinduism that’s been flourishing for millennia.
“Adounia Idagh” (2018) – Bombino * Written by Abdallah Ag Oumbadougou * LP: Deran * Label: Partisan Records
The newcomer to the Nigerian Tuareg vocalist/guitarist Bombino (real name Omara Moctar) may approach with skepticism, seeing that his most recent album cover presents him in the visual language of “saint.” But the addictive nature of his music (sung in the Tamasheq language), his guitar command, and his people-power role in Tuareg culture should see the newcomer through. Originally from Niger, he has relocated throughout his life to Algeria, Libya, and Burkina Faso, due to unrest among the nomadic Tuaregs and the significant reality of the Niger government’s attempt to ban guitars. Things settled down by 2010, when he returned to Niger, played triumphant shows, and recorded steadily to build on high-profile acknowledgment, such as a 2008 recording date with three Rolling Stones (Watts, Wood, and Jagger) on saxophonist Tim Ries’s Stones World. His nickname, incidentally, comes from bambino, that most musical-sounding of Italian words. Although Bombino recorded his 2018 Deran (well wishes) album in the king of Morocco’s studio HIBA in Casablanca, its best moments make you feel like you’re nowhere indoors, maybe at the top of a mountain which is the title translation for this track, written by pioneering Tuareg guitarist Abdallah Ag Oumbadougou.
The Tuupa label in Finland specializes in music of the Sámi people way up north. One of their 2018 releases, the self-titled debut by Suõmmkar, is a real treasure in that it contains new music from members of the Skolt Sámi ethnic group, one of the smallest with only 400 speakers of the actual language among the 1250 who identify themselves as such. Also worth celebrating is its preservation of the leu’dd vocal style, which differs from the more familiar Sámi yoiks by weaving narratives about people as opposed to conjuring chants about nature. The group’s two vocalists are Anna Lumisalmi and Hanna-Maaria Kiprianoff, whose Skolt background and expertise give this release such a welcome presence. The song title for the track featured here translates to “What Are You Youngsters Running For,” but the rest of the lyrical content, for now, will need to be fodder for your imagination.
Ari Barokas - “Gavurlar” (2018) * LP: Lafıma Gücenme * Label: Garaj Müzik Ari Barokas has been the longtime bassist for Turkish rock heroes Duman (smoke). They rose up from Istanbul in the early ’90s, having taken cues from the grunge scene that vocalist Kaan Tangöze had observed up close in Seattle. Their reliable espousal of open-mindedness has complemented, and perhaps propelled, their ongoing popularity but kept them in the throes of controversy. Song lyrics sympathize with protesters, condemn police brutality, and take liberties with holy Islamic writ, ensuring calls for boycotts from religious conservatives. Barokas’s album, like the music of the band he plays for, contains rootsy, acoustic music that is too undeniably Anatolian and irresistible to Duman’s primary listeners to get him too deep into cultural hot water. It’s called Lafıma Gücenme (no offense), and the jump-out track “Gavurlar” (infidels) wonders about the “weird state” he calls home but has nonetheless given him the tools to make the music he does.
Monsieur Doumani is a trio based in Nicosia, Cyprus, and their 2018 Angathin (thorn) is their third official album. On the track called “Antics,” Antonis Antoniou’s tzouras cuts an indomitable groove along with guest Alexandros Gagtsis’s udu drum. Guitarist Angelos Ionas sprinkles mood dust all over it while flautist Demetris Yiasemides flutters overhead like a midnight fruit bat. It’s in Greek, but at :47 it sounds like they’re singing “feeling saddy, yes, I feel so baddy,” giving you the impression that this is some sort of Cypriot blues, created specifically to lift somebody’s spirits.
“Fong Kong (Chinese Goods)” (2018) – Solly Sebotso * CD: I’m Not Here to Hunt Rabbits: Guitar and Folk Styles from Botswana * Label: Piranha
This 2018 compilation, having no relation to Elmer Fudd, is subtitled Guitar and Folk Styles from Botswana, and that’s indeed what it delivers without a single fluffy creature getting hurt. The YouTube uploads of an expat named Johannes Vollebregt, who marveled at Botswanan guitarists’ four-stringed approach (one bass and three trebles) and the over-the-neck placement of the left hand — not to mention the hypnotic music the players generate — can be credited for getting the project started. “Fong Kong (Chinese Goods),” with its rock and roll chord changes, is a song by Solly Sebotso, who is an active but underappreciated (even in Botswana) singer songwriter who sings this track about imported goods mostly in the Tswanan language (and who contributes a total of three songs to the collection).
“Chicken Gumbo” (1957) – Josephine Premice * Written by Walter Merrick, Joe Willoughby, and Evans * Produced by Barney Kessel * LP: Caribe: Josephine Premice Sings Calypso * Label: Verve When Josephine Premice released her late ’50s Calypso records, she had a respectable showbiz track record, having debuted in the 1945 Broadway revue Blue Holiday. Born in Brooklyn, Premice was the daughter of a Count in the deposed Haitian aristocracy. Her father, Lucas Premice, had escaped prison chains and eventually wound up in the USA, where Josephine received an upper class education and attended Columbia University. Sounding like a rescued treasure from the shores of Haiti, her Caribe album is actually a product of the LA session guitarist Barney Kessel and a fleet of pro songwriters, including Joe Willoughby and Walter Merrick, who composed “Chicken Gumbo,” the album’s tribute to the healing powers of the Haitian dish alongside “okra water.” (A mystery songwriter named Evans also receives credit for “Chicken Gumbo” on the label.) Such surprises of origin take nothing away from Caribe‘s aural pleasures. In the ensuing decades, Premice would make a handful of TV appearances, including one on The Jeffersons, where she played Louise Jefferson’s sister Maxine.
“Tomorrow Never Knows” (1966) – the Beatles * Written by John Lennon and Paul McCartney * Produced by George Martin * LP: Revolver * Label: Parlophone (UK), Capitol (US)
The US version of Revolver may rank as one of the more grievous hatchet jobs by Capitol Records. In this case, the label altered the original UK version by pruning three notable John Lennon songs altogether (“I’m Only Sleeping,” “Doctor Robert,” and “And Your Bird Can Sing”). But this action gave the two remaining Lennon branches a certain increase in gravitas, especially with both of them (“She Said She Said” and “Tomorrow Never Knows”) ending each side of the album, as if they were the only two slots that Lennon the new philosopher needed for his keynote words of wisdom. So extraordinary a production is “Tomorrow Never Knows” that all future attempts by anyone to do a cover version are rendered inadvisable and preemptively disappointing. Lennon reportedly found inspiration for the lyrics, including the opening line of “turn off your mind, relax and float downstream” from a book co-authored by Timothy Leary called The Psychedelic Experience: A Manual Based on The Tibetan Book of the Dead. Since then the conception of “turning off” the mind has traveled in status from being a radical “drop out” gesture, to one of regrettable escapism, to one of Buddha-endorsed mindfulness and a reliable 21st-century coping mechanism.
“Don’t Talk to Me About Love” (1983) – Altered Images * Written by Altered Images * Produced by Mike Chapman * LP: Bite * 45: “Don’t Talk to Me About Love” / “Last Goodbye” * Label: Epic (UK); Portrait (US) * Charts: UK #7 Altered Images’ development paralleled their target audience, starting with adolescent attitude (“Dead Pop Stars”), moving along to carefree teenage courtship (“See Those Eyes”), then winding up at the adult singles club (“Don’t Talk to Me About Love”). It’s clear that Mike Chapman, who produced half of their final album Bite, had a clearer conception of what to do with his Scottish pop ingredients—especially Claire Grogan’s novelty vocals and their anti-rockist guitars—than did Tony Visconti, who mishandled the rest. Few producers could work with disco as a utility like Chapman, as his output with Blondie confirms. Three songs from Bite, all Chapman’s, endure as charming mementoes. “Change of Heart” and “Another Lost Look” are two of them (listen to “Another Lost Look” on vinyl, not the CD, which uses a live version). The third is “Don’t Talk to Me About Love,” one of the era’s more sparkling demonstrations of disco’s ongoing hold on British new pop, taking all the non-rap virtues of “Rapture” and reshaping them into something both melancholy and lovely. The song’s disco elements, actually, signify fresh nostalgia, which tends to have an especially acute effect on the young adult.
