From the opening piano notes of Montana: A Love Story, George Winston fans are sure to feel they've returned to safer ground after his last album, The Night Divides the Day, the pianist's dip into the acid rock of The Doors. There's nothing on Montana that wouldn't feel at home to anyone who has followed him since his first two albums on Takoma and Windham Hill records. Winston has carved out a space for open air melodies that seem to echo off the Montana plains that have provided so much of his metaphorical imagery over the years. It's an attractive sound which at it's best, recalls Keith Jarrett's more contemplative ruminations and at it's worst, sounds like cocktail music by someone without a good fake book. The pure Winston sound can be heard on his originals, including "High Plains Lullaby," as well as covers like Mark Isham's childlike "Thumbelina." But Winston also plays Celtic tunes, Sam Cooke's R&B hit, "You Send Me," and Leadbelly's "Goodnight Irene." And just to put you on edge, he does Frank Zappa's angular "The Little House I Used to Live In." He says it reminded him of the little house in which he grew up in Montana. When he explores these different styles, he becomes a more generic pianist, the kind you might hear at the local shopping mall. But on the reverie of "Sweet Soul" and the exoticism of "Sky," the distinct Winston sound is revealed as he continues to forge his brand of American Plains piano. --John Diliberto |
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Will Ackerman: Returning Guitarist
Will Ackerman has often re-recorded his own songs, coming back years later
with new interpretations and perhaps more refined techniques. Returning,
however, consists entirely of new recordings of songs from the Ackerman
archives. The founder of Windham Hill records, this is his first recording
off the label since founding the company in 1976. He sold it in 1992,
but has continued on it as an artist until now. Cynics might view this
as a ploy to retain control of his catalogue, a common practice for artists
who jump labels. |
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Lori Carson: The Finest Thing With her breathy, fragile voice and introspective lyrics, Lori Carson has released several albums in what might be called the conventional singer-songwriter mode, and the opening title track of The Finest Thing, a gentle ballad, might lead you to think this is another album in that vein. But Carson has also worked with avant-rockers the Golden Palominos and music saboteur Bill Laswell. That's what gives The Finest Thing a gritty edge with distorted hissing, amp buzzes, and strange aliasing that must be intentional for an artist of her experience. Centered largely on plaintive acoustic guitar ostinatos with touches of electric guitar, occasional trumpet, and spare keyboard, The Finest Thing yields quiet reveries, sometimes with lyrics, but more often by casting wordless ghost vocals into the abyss. She's clearly listened to the early ambient music of Brian Eno and "Grey World" sounds like an homage to Music for Airports. In an age of supralingua divas like Lisa Gerrard and Azam Ali, Carson's "La-La-La-Ohh" vocalizing can sound trite, but there's an appealing intimacy to The Finest Thing, like pages from a personal scrapbook: rough edges, sketchy drawings, and a bit of insight into a mind at work. --John Diliberto |
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Green Isac: Etnotronica
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