I can’t say that two metal legends taking on an ’80s pop/rock power balled and karaoke staple was a move that I saw coming, but when those two legends are Doro Pesch and Rob Halford and the song in question is “Total Eclipse of the Heart,” well then, at the very least you’ve got my attention.
And while the duo don’t offer up an interpretation that’s dramatically different from Bonnie Tyler’s original rendition beyond beefing it up with some heavier tones, they both sing the hell out of it. And it’s also fun to see Halford gesture dramatically while possibly wearing laser gloves (or maybe it’s just a trick of the light), a look that brings to mind what Freddy Krueger might look like if he was also a Sith Lord.
“Total Eclipse of the Heart” is taken off of Doro’s latest release Conqueress – Forever Strong And Proud, out now via Nuclear Blast.
“Fading Phase” is the latest single from Antwerp shoegazers Newmoon, a mellow, dreamy number taken from their upcoming album Temporary Light, which comes out March 22, 2024 via PIAS Recordings/Manifesto Entertainment. Check it out below.
The show starts at first with silence, followed by the sound of a single breath. Then another.
And so began the performance of electronic music pioneer Morton Subotnick‘s latest piece, entitled As I Live and Breathe. An appropriate title as the bulk of the piece was made up of the sounds of Subotnick’s own breath and various other vocal utterances spoken into the mic and then, through some sort of synthesizer magic, transformed into something else entirely.
Billed as Subotnick’s final live performance in Canada, this was a unique and memorable show, with the 90 year old synth legend joined onstage by Berlin media artist Lillevan, who provided live video accompaniment during the set.
Starting out slowly, the music evolved throughout, beginning as an ambient drone before building to an epic and cathartic release in its final moments, with Lillevan’s visuals acting as a perfect accompaniment.
I overheard someone saying afterwards that they felt like they’d been transported to another world during the show and that’s as good a way as any to put it. Simply put, this was a brilliant performance.
Where do the fans go when the FTPs and ICQ of yester-years have long since gone dark? Wherever do we find satisfaction now that Spotify supplies the pressure to an infinite variety of musical firehoses without the tiniest speck of care and regard for us on the other end, slaking (or I gather, just subsisting) like patients on feeding tubes? Well, if it is to be anything and everything, then I might as well insist it be more analog, more time-consuming, and more work. All of which I enjoy. Just as I do wasting your time in this intro paragraph.
Which brings me to the object of this review – Spiritual Jazz 14, the latest compilation of found-jazz recordings issued by the London-based outfit Jazzman Records, on this occasion my gurus. And because it is so much better to listen to a sound system than Bandcamp’s compression over shitty computer speakers, I now have the liner notes and anal bum cover to peruse (see above).
The theme of this compilation is private-pressings only, which means the artist/manager paid the record manufacturer to produce a short run of custom pressing, inadvertently leaving behind something that scratches my indie hipster esoterica in the right places 50 years later. I confess not to know what spiritual jazz is, really. Is it just generally inoffensive set-piece passages riffing about the eternal struggle of darkness and light in life, decorated with instrumental solos, and destined to be background of intellectual debates in Boston cafes? I don’t even know what jazz is, if that level of meta-ness does not compute.
But this is clearly brilliant listening. How do I review 14 different artists? Will I spare you the liner notes regurgitation? To me, listening to the album roughly recapitulates a day. It opens with pensive pieces that develop into surprises that were decent enough to never telegraph themselves, just like a morning withholding the rest of the day. The only vocal numbers in the collection follow, and Radam Schwartz and Mary Lou Williams deliver two crisp statements like true professionals. Then we wade into the after tea/coffee hours in which we examine the casual, shared DNA between Cullen Knight’s “A’keem” and Black is —-‘s “Variations.”
Don Menza’s “Spanish Boots” is the sumptuous dinner of the bunch – not only substantial, but clearly on-pointe and recognizably (rowdy big band) Jazz. The desserts that follow are lighter and more inquisitive. Andrew McPherson’s “Delilah” is a cover of Clifford Brown that is more centered around the opening theme than the 1954 original ever was. The atmosphere finally gets smoky and sleepy toward the end of the album. You get to see a vivid dream with Bobby Jackson’s “Desiree Song” and then you are ready to hit the wake up to another morning when Compass plays. Is this some naturally subconscious organization of a compilation or over-analysis on my part? While I’ve breezed through the numbers, nothing on here is filler. Perhaps because they were privately pressed, one can sense value and weight in the music, whether or not they were the same as that held by the musicians at the time.
Ever wonder how your favorite saying/sentence would morph in accent, enunciation, phrasing when you repeat it 256 times? It might give you discovery, introspection, appreciation, all-that-jazz. Or it might just be a waste of time.
