Word: trumpets
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...says Horowitz. "We don't eat people." But they do incense them no end. Says the Rabin aide: "At least in other settlements, Jews can move around without rubbing it in the face of the Arabs. Not the Hebronites." When they chose their home, the Hebron Jews meant to trumpet their presence in the West Bank. Now the government must contemplate ejecting them to send as vocal a message...
...imagines it to all hold together. Adding a polished studio saxophone wail to a folk guitar song does nothing but bewilder the listener, as does a tune like "Strange Weather," with its hip jazz shimmy that sounds like it belongs on Sting's last album. Add in a trumpet solo (as Peck does on many tunes), a walking bass and sampled strings, and you have a very curious tune. It has the same value as the likes of buster Pointdexter or Thomas Dolby, minus the better arrangements, interesting voices, and performer personalities. Which brings us to yet another problem: Peck...
...repertoire, given undivided attention, will slowly become profound and moving. One of the reasons lies in the Sugargliders' ability--the rarest thing in the world--to integrate melodic neatness with the aforementioned back-beats. "Reinventing Penicillin," for example, could be a good slowed-down New Order song, and "Trumpet Play" nonchalantly imports a soft "jazz" trumpet and jazz-club background noise into the end of what would otherwise be a rolling, groove-oriented late-night "ballad...
...interlocking acoustic guitar tones and undulating beats moves in, and stays for weeks. Whichever Meadows brother is singing-- or half-singing, half-speaking--sets our the lyrics with such understated sincerity that it's impossible to believe the everyday events he's describing--walking out of a jazz club ("Trumpet Play"), reading a newspaper advertisement ("Theme from Boxville")--don't move and amuse him as much as he says they do. Which may lead you to wonder why such everyday events don't move, or amuse, you as often as they...
Anyone who feels that seeing jazz live isn't much different from slapping a new CD into astereo should go check out a show, any show, at any club. After watching Ahmad Jamal finally crack a smile, after hearing spit hit the floor as Tiger Okoshi cleans out his trumpet, after watching Don Byron prance maniacally around stage, even the most diehard homebodies will admit that there is nothing like seeing music unfold before their eyes...