Everyone feels sad once in a while. It’s a fairly basic human emotion and completely normal. Musicians also feel sad from time to time and try to reflect their emotions through their music. Some emphasize on making you feel better and others on dragging you deeper to the depths of depression. Those are the most common approaches to sadness, nothing wrong with them, but wouldn’t you really like an album that is apathetic towards your sadness, an album that doesn’t call your girlfriend a cunt for you, but just sits down next to you and says “yep, you’re pretty depressed” and lets you solve your own emotional baggage?

As you may have guessed, “Blurred In My Mirror” isn’t a very happy album, it’s not sad either, but eerily dark and empty. It’s the musical equivalent of Silent Hill; quiet and void of life. All the music is performed electronically or filtered so much that the humanity of music has become indistinguishable. Noriko’s singing, on the other hand, is the lone human voice in the wind. Naked and fragile, her voice bleakly tries to say something, irregardless of what goes on with the background music. I think this is what makes the album so “eerily dark.” The backgrounds are frantic and loud while Noriko is quiet and calm; they exist in the same space but don’t seem to acknowledge each other.

Musically “Blurred In My Mirror” is sort of like if Portishead played Portishead, with a slight flavor of “let’s be more like Radiohead.” I don’t think I need to explain the Portishead similarities, but the Radiohead influences might be harder to catch. Think of “Amnesiac” toned down to bare essentials; minimal usage of drums, violins/cellos, guitars, pianos and such. Take that and add the downtempo rhythm and general eeriness from Portishead, and there’s the album for ya. Though that doesn’t sound like a unique concept, Tujiko Noriko manages to stay distinguishable and do her own thing like no one else, and god damn… It won’t make you feel good, quite the opposite, but it’s still a fairly enjoyable listen. In fact, if it turns out that everyone hates this album, shall this be my last review on the site.

by Saku

A man and his piano in a dark room. All you can see of the man is a dark silhouette; you can’t see his face, nor his clothing. His fingers touch the keyboard, and you can feel how every moment is dedicated to you alone. You look around you and there doesn’t seem to be anyone else in the audience; just you, the man and his piano.

Everything is quiet, except for the gentle, but powerful sound of the man’s piano. You feel a deep connection to the music and realize that the man is but a tool, a tool that allows the piano to play the sounds it feels are necessary. You feel closer to love, you feel like you’re a part of a singularity of understanding. You feel everything and nothing.

As quickly as it began, the music stops. You can no longer see the man, nor his piano. Silence spreads its dark wings over the room and you just sit there with the richness of your thought.

Suddenly the music starts again, but you still can’t see the man. It seems as if the music is coming from inside your head. The man plays a riff that is hard, fast and beautiful. The sheer confidence of his playing takes a firm grip on your heart, and squeezes it until you can only feel the true essence of being. Everything goes silent.

You have opened yourself to the new ideas of love and co-existence. Calmness takes over your mind as the man keeps playing. Time stands still as you philosophize the nature of your being and the meaning of the world around you. The man begins to build up for a last climax before revealing the cosmos to you, but you do not pay attention.

Something notifies your consciousness of where you really are and you realize you’re supposed to leave the bus on the next stop. You look at the world in a new man, changed by your experience, even though none of it ever was, anyway.

by Saku

I’m a lazy person and Hawaii sounds like such a perfect place for me; a tropical paradise, full of love. Even thinking about it makes me want to give someone a hug. I have never been to Hawaii and I have no idea if my idea of the place is factual at all, but if the music of Israel ‘IZ’ Kamakawiwo’ole reflects truth at all, I’m right on the money.

IZ was a major influence in Hawaiian music in the 90′s and his 1993 album “Facing Future” has become the best selling record by a Hawaiian musician. His ukulele playing made love to your ear, and his voice was like something divine touching your soul. He was also severely over weight and unfortunately in 1997 he died of weight related problems at the age of 38. Before his death IZ managed to release four solo albums, “Ka ‘Ano’i” being his debut.

If you are new to Hawaiian music, “Ka ‘Ano’i” is probably the easiest place to start. Instead of focusing on more traditional Hawaiian music like his latter recordings, “Ka ‘Ano’i” is more of a collection of Hawaiianized covers of old American jazz songs, the crown jewel being IZ’s biggest hit, “Over the Rainbow/Wonderful World”. It’s a fun album to listen to with nice up-beat tempos, warm sounds and IZ’s angelic voice that takes you to last summer. Looking outside the window makes me depressed, to be honest.

Unfortunately the mood of the songs range from fun little tunes to soft ballads, so it’s not the perfect paradise soundtrack I’m looking for, but this is the place to start the search.

by Saku

I have a huge amount of respect towards John Zorn. He is one of those musicians who you can tell are in it for the love of music and not money and fame. Even though he’s currently busy running his own not-for-profit record label, Tzadik, he still has found the time to release 5 albums this year and play gigs regularly. Like I said, this man loves music. Though the majority of his work is geared toward avant-garde and “radical Jewish culture”, his cartoon music recordings and the “Filmworks” series are a great entry level introduction to the world of instrumental music, and show that Zorn isn’t just a pretentious one trick pony.

If you were smart enough to check out the Ikue Mori album I recommended last week (which by the way was apparently recorded under the supervision of Zorn) you’ll be right at home with “El General”, just add a tad bit of South-American influence and voilà. It even has Marc Ribot on the guitar. It’s not quite as good, though.

Since it’s basically just a soundtrack it loses some of the comforts of a regular album. It can’t go hog wild, except for the song that plays during the title sequence, perhaps. You don’t want to distract the viewer from the movie. It also can’t build up to a climax at the end of the song just like that, which results in the songs having a nice and consistent flow that is enjoyable to listen to, but doesn’t really move you anywhere. In fact, that’s how I would describe the album. You sit on a chair, moving nowhere, while the world around you keeps moving, taking you to places that don’t exist.

“El General”, the movie, is a “glimpse into the life of Mexican President Plutarco Elias Calles.” I haven’t seen it, but honestly I wouldn’t say the music is greatly Mexican influenced. The overall sound scape takes me to somewhere more like an alternative version of Cuba where rhythm is outlawed. “El General”, the album, is not necessarily a very deep experience that shatters the way you listen to music, but it’s a nice little album to listen to when you’re alone at night, working; or if you want a sequel to Painted Desert.

by Saku

Ikue Mori is a Japanese born drummer known (I’m using the term loosely) for her crazy wild rhythms and avant-garde jazz sounds. “Painted Desert” is a hard, but soft instrumental album about the desert.

Despite being credited to Mori, the real star of “Painted Desert” is the fantastic balance between the musicians. It’s a well put together group effort with Mori providing heavy rhythms with various percussion sounds, Quine working the lead guitar and Ribot providing various atmospheric background noises. Listening to the album you get the feel that they’re all one, putting together something bigger than man, something that was meant to be.

The dry and hot sounds start flowing from the second you press the play button and will not stop until the end of eternity. I guess the only proper way for me to describe the sound of the album is Sun King, except more red. Literally, the album paints an image of a red/orange desert in your imagination. Obviously Mori, Quine and Ribot have taken advantage of all they can get from their understanding of the art of music.

Speaking of art, it’s the only album that I can think of, that is subtle while still punching you in the face. The first couple of times you hear it and it’s like a moody spaghetti western turned to a CD, but the more you hear it, the more you start listening to it, and start noticing all the building blocks that support the moody crust of the album. You rarely hear anything that was this well put together, with this much thought behind every note, beat and sound.

by Saku

I apologize in advance for not representing this album in as good a light as it deserves. For you see, I promised to review “Speak Like a Child” a month ago, in an attempt to recommend a few albums for the beautiful Autumn season. By now the season is long gone. Instead of shades of beautiful orange, red and yellow, everything is brown. And muddy. And cold. And dark. A season much better suited for sonic alternate-rock or something, but oh well. I have no one but myself to blame for my own short-sightedness.

If you didn’t know it, Herbie Hancock is one of the most influential jazz musicians of all time. He played with Miles Davis, released dozens of really awesome records, and even won the 2008 Grammy Award for Album of the Year, having only the second jazz album to win the award.

So, “Speak Like a Child”. It was Herb’s second to last release on the jazz giant, Blue Note Records, and it’s pretty much everything you’ve come to expect from him during this wonderful period of time; tight hard bop compositions that are excellent with deadly accuracy. Only exception to his previous work being that on the surface this album sounds so generic that you’d think that some cynical studio executive made it, unlike his prior work which was more straight forward with it’s creative ambitions. However, as you dig deeper toward the core you’ll realize that it’s far from being generic. Every note, chord and beat ooze of soul and class, and the fact that this is something that you’re likely to hear during a hotel dinner is nothing more than a compliment to the hotel.

Speaking of which, the album works both as shallow background music and as deep and thoughtful art-music, and in my opinion there lies it’s true brilliance. Unlike The Dave Brubeck Quartet album I recommended two weeks ago, “Speak Like a Child” is only as sophisticated and intelligent as you need it to be which makes it more accessible to anyone on (almost) any day of the year.

by Saku

I know some of you want to get your hands on every single album we recommend so what I’m going to do is be a wanker and review an album that people hardly know exists. Gabor Szabo was a Hungarian jazz guitarist who once upon a time recorded a song called “Gypsy Queen”, a song that was later made famous by a small hippie band called Santana. That’s it. That’s pretty much his entire solo career in a nutshell.

After his death in 1982 there have been some new releases, compilations, and CD prints. Unfortunately this little gem called Mizrab has yet to see a CD release outside of Japan and I actually feel lucky that I’ve even found a download link for it on the Internet.

Musically the album is Szabo at his finest, Pop/Jazz Fusion sounds are great and you can distinctively hear the Hungarian heritage. Close your eyes and you can see yourself walking in the quiet streets of oppressed, communist Hungary. If I ever take a trip to a former Soviet state I know I will take Mizrab with me (and before anyone bothers to point it out to me, I know that Hungary wasn’t in the Soviet Union).

This may come as a shocker, but even though I think that Mizrab is beautiful in every way and is a piece of excellent music; I have yet to see a single overly positive review on the Internet, or any actual reviews other than Allmusic’s in which they say “the music is well played but not particularly memorable” which I personally don’t agree with at all, with the exception of the music being well played. To me Mizrab is a memorable experience and a quasi-spiritual journey to what makes music so awesome. You may not like it as much as I do, but I’d still check it out just for the sheer uniqueness.

by Saku

During the autumn time I feel very fancy pants. I love walking around the city streets wearing a stylish coat, smoking a cigarette and acting very sophisticated inside my head. But what music to listen to? AC/DC? Insane Clown Posse? How about some jazz…

When talking about sophisticated music you can’t ignore Dave Brubeck Quartet’s “Time Out”. This album sleeps in a suit. This album makes Frasier Crane look like trailer folk. If you’re intimidated by that, don’t worry; there’s no minimum pretentiousness quota that you need to meet. This is strictly a jazz album, and jazz at it’s finest, I might add.

Critically semi-panned when released, “Time Out” has grown to become a classic, and one of the most successful jazz records of all time. It’s a piece of art that almost didn’t get released because Columbia was unsure if the experimental nature of the album would be successful business wise. There’s a whole bunch of stuff about the rhythm patterns on the album’s Wikipedia page, but I’m not a musician so all I can say is that they certainly are unusual.

But let’s get real, the reason why I’m talking about this album isn’t the rhythmic patterns, masterful musicianship or a cool cover picture. It’s Take five. I can guarantee that you’ve heard this song. It’s a masterpiece and possibly the best known jazz composition after Pink Panther and Linus & Lucy. The right holder, Red Cross of America, makes $100,000 every year with this song, it’s that famous. It slightly overshadows everything else on the album but frankly my darling, I don’t give a damn. This is a perfect album, one of the best jazz records ever made and deserves a place in every music lover’s collection.

by Saku