Started off the month of August on the good foot, with multiple posts thus far in this first week, and hope I’ll finally be able to get back into a routine rhythm sharing things, but…If there’s one day of the year you are guaranteed to get a post here on Melting Pot, it is today, August 7th, the birthday of our patron saint, Rahsaan Roland Kirk. Kirk’s recorded output was so extensive and so consistently good, that there will probably be a few records that we don’t even get to before this blog’s days are done. But, I was surprised that I hadn’t already shared this album previously. “Here Comes The Whistleman” was Rahsaan’s debut on Atlantic. You’ll notice on the cover that “Live” is in quotes, and that was to distinguish the record from a proper live concert, at a proper venue, when this was essentially a private concert at the Atlantic Records HQ with a select few lucky souls who were there to bear witness.
And though it is a relatively short album, it does still showcase all of the things that made Rahsaan such a beloved musician. More than the virtuostic playing, it’s the joy, especially the joy at doing new things and creating new sounds. Whether in terms of what I think is Rahsaan singing through his flute or sax on “Yesterdays,” the combination of what almost sounds like a mix of “The In-Crowd” and “I’m Comin’ Home Baby Now,” on “Making Love After Hours,” or the complete reckless abandonment that marks “Here Comes The Whistleman,” where Rahsaan gave those assembled all manner of noisemakers and whistles so they could join in and make a joyful noise together. Even Rahsaan’s sense of humor is here, such as when he jokes with long time producer Joel Dorn (though here, essentially their first work together) that he wouldn’t have got caught in turnpike traffic if he had left Rahsaan, who was blind, drive.
What a joy it is to have music from someone so special. I think the liner notes, written by Del Shields, really hit the spot in describing how special Rahsaan was:
“To know the man is to know his music. He is fantastic, not because he is blind, but because he is a beautiful human being. He is gifted with enormous talent and finds the crying need to search, probe, experiment and make music. At last count he has mastered 45 instruments. Music is his life, and life is his music. When the critics stop being amazed and weigh his accomplishments objectively, they will admit that Roland Kirk is indeed one of the geniuses of our time.”
This record came my way a few years ago during the pandemic well before things opened up. Essentially every year I’ve lived in California, back since 1999, I’ve made at least one trip to Groove Merchant, which remains my all-time favorite record store. With that not possible during the pandemic, there were a couple of times where I sent Cool Chris a certain amount of money, and asked him to just send me records that he thought I’d dig. Perhaps some of you might think that’s foolish, but if you do, you clearly don’t know Cool Chris.
One of the best things about Groove Merchant are the notes that Chris will add to records, “Breezy California Folk-Psych, Check ‘Summer’ on Side 2,” or “Check out 2-1,” or “Breaks on A-1,” and on and on. So, when this 45, from a band I’ve never heard of, and even after a couple of years of searching still haven’t found any information about, arrives with a note in Chris’ handwriting saying “I Dig This One,” you know it’s gonna be something special.
This song from the appropriately theatrically named Johnny Bello’s Strawberry Cliffs of Monica likely isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but knowing Chris and Chris knowing me, it’s exactly the kind of 45 I love. It all starts with those repetitive high notes from guitar that hypnotically flow throughout the mellow psych vibes of the song (only broken up by a psychedelic freakout after the 2nd verse). And then, there’s Johnny. Johnny Bello appears to be the credited (and apparently, the only songwriting credit of his career) songwriter John Pereira. There’s zero info about Johnny online, but I would not be surprised if he had a theater background. Some of it’s in the theatrical performance (which I bet on stage included a cape and rather dramatic hand motions while singing) and theatrical phrasing of his vocals. Some of it is in the largely inscrutable lyrics (for example, I’ve listened to this song at least 50 times, and I still don’t know why its titled “Black Oil”), that when you can understand them give off Hippie Prophet/Guru vibes critiquing the plastic world around us and pushing us to “stop looking behind you, start looking around you…start looking inside of you,” before Johnny Bello lives up to his name.
The record feels like a private press, but Sand was a solid label, though not generally for psych, and the one-off nature of this 45 makes it seem like the label simply didn’t know what to do with Johnny Bello and the group. That is a shame. There’s some flashes of serious talent here and it would have been interesting to hear what Johnny Bello’s Strawberry Cliffs Of Monica would have done on a full LP. But, at least we have this 45. And this is a 45 that both me and Cool Chris of Groove Merchant most definitely dig.
This album came my way via Cool Chris, but based on the handwritten price on the inner sleeve, I suspect it might have originally come from one of DJ Shadow’s storage sales at Rappcats. Not a ton of info on Thomas Brown, and from looking online, it appears that (at least as a leader) he only released albums on Golden Crest, which would seem to be more of an educational type private press, given the lack of a back cover & the pasted inner photo of Brown, but from the other releases that are known, seems like they may have branched out a bit further from that niche.
In the notes it mentions a couple of other albums by Brown, but there’s nothing online connected to them. I have the sneaky suspicion that those others might be even better than this one, but that may just be wishful thinking on my part. The playing on this album is quite good and while I normally don’t dig this type of instructional thing, I actually found Brown’s discussion of the various percussion instruments, as well as their place in Afro-Latin music (with a strong emphasis on the African origins of the rhythms explored here) to be inciteful and useful. I wish his vocal explanations had been recorded separately from the instrumentals, since, in a very professorial fashion, he ends up just yelling over the musicians as they play, but such is the vibe.
And when the band just plays, as is the case on the group’s cover of Leon Russell’s “Masquerade,” plus originals like “Dance,” and the album’s closer “Mardi Gras,” it’s a solid sound. Doesn’t really seem like a lot of people are up on this album, but I dig it, and I suspect you would as well, and so here it is. Enjoy!
For the first album to be shared here in this 15th year of Melting Pot, we have this rather obscure album from a quintet of teenagers (at least, likely teenagers) from Wisconsin. I’m not sure if I’ve ever posted a record literally on the same day it arrived to me, but this is one that had been on my mind for months. I first came into contact with Hootch at February’s Rappcats pop-up featuring records from the collection of Joe Benson, and titled, “Records From Big Red,” I imagine in reference to Benson’s Nebraska origins…This record was one of the first that drew my attention, both in the initial announcement and when I arrived at the spot. I took a long long hard look at the album as it sat on the wall, and for reasons that are beyond me, I just left it there.
Well, roughly an hour later, as I’m sorting out which records I’m going to add to my collection, the first notes of lead track, “You Can’t Come In,” begin, all pensive and light guitar with a shade of percussion and then only 17 seconds in, comes one of the most hypnotic psych grooves I’ve ever heard. Dumbfounded, I make my way to the house turntable to see what is playing and run into that distinctive cover and that face on it, which at the time felt like it was mocking me for not adding it to my own pile when I had the chance. Turned out head honcho Egon had dropped the needle on it and had claimed it, much to my dismay and disappointment. I also lost out on a OG copy of Billy Brooks’ Windmills Of The Mind that day, but felt good nonetheless to go home with a handful of records I didn’t know previously and a Townes Van Zandt album that I had long coveted. But that hypnotic groove remained with me, haunting me repeatedly over these past five months…At a period of time here during the summer when I was dealing with a little minor heartbreak, I finally made the decision to engage in a little record therapy, got the album from a dealer in Athens, Greece and here it is.
There’s very little info on Hootch, all the information for the record is there on the front cover, with nothing but blank space on the back. The band had five members, Thomas S. Henry, Bob Maloney, Doug Lemirande, Henry Erkelenz & Laura Schaefer, and being on the private press looking label of Pro-gress Records, it looked like they likely hailed from the Milwaukee, Wisconsin area. But that is all we have. The album was released in 1974, but to my ears sounds more like 1968 or 1970. Of the six songs on the album, four are instrumentals. It’s an album, like a lot of psych albums, is likely an acquired taste (on Discogs someone, rather humorously, derided the rare nature of this album by scoffing, ‘I laugh while scratching my old balls,” Ha!), there doesn’t seem to be anything else that any of those people recorded, but for reasons that remain slightly mystifying to me, the sound of the record has burrowed deeply inside my mind. It’s something about when the band does get locked into a groove, and the stereo separation with tambourine and maracas (or magic egg) split between the two sides along with guitar, bass & drums, that just fucking does it to me. Same goes for the other two songs I’ve shared here, “Blue Bird,” and the ominous vocal track “Eyes Of The Raven.” I can’t always explain why some music has a stronger hold over me than others, but at this stage in the game, I know enough to pay attention to that feeling and rectify mistakes whenever I can.
Happy hunting y’all, and make sure to listen to your intuition when you run into those rare, rare records on in the wild,
As was the case for our 7th anniversary, this 14th anniversary felt special, especially after returning all of the older posts back home to this website where they belonged. And so, it felt like the time to have another anniversary mix, featuring tunes from over the years, mixed together by one of my favorite DJs. This time around, more or less I think through complete divine intervention, our anniversary mix was put together by the one and only Cut Chemist.
For this mix, I chose 3 songs from each of the 14 years of Melting Pot, 42 songs total, and delivered them to Cut Chemist with the only rule being that he had to use some part of each of those songs in the final mix. When he finished the soon to be legendary mix you’re about to hear, he had this to say:
“I haven’t done a mix in a while but I can’t think of a better occasion to get back on the bike. I had no idea what direction to take, I just let the music guide me through every turn. The songs literally told me what they wanted me to do. Michael did the heavy lifting with his incredible selections that span across the globe and it was an honor to collaborate with him. Enjoy and celebrate this Melting Pot of music and emotion!”
For me at this very moment, less than 24 hours from hearing this mix for the first time myself, I don’t even have the words to describe it or say what it means to me to have this mix actually be a reality. I just want y’all to listen to this 55+ minute masterpiece (preferably with headphones or on a solid car stereo on a long drive), and have your mind blown in exactly the same way I had mine blown to smithereens when I first heard it. I’ll have MUCH MORE to say about this mix in time, but for now, just dig on it…DIG ON IT!!!
14 years…Not sure I ever really thought I’d still be posting in 2023, when I began this blog on 7/7 in 2009. I just knew that there was so much music that I couldn’t share on my radio shows at the time, or moreso so many words that I wanted to say in connection to those sounds that would take up time (and the ability to share more music) when I was on-air. In the 14 years since, I’ve worked at two very different radio stations, as well as a short lived but lovely online station, got divorced, got a dog, had my student loans forgiven and have bought many, many, many records. Not gonna make any big promises connected to what the next year will feature, but I will tell you that my hope is that we’ll have a sterling mix on 7/14 to share with you from one of my all-time favorite DJs, much as we did for our 7th anniversary. Might be a few changes to how the blog looks, and certainly will be cleaning up a few things that I haven’t (as well as finally clearing out all of the spam so that actual comments are all that’s here and so I can reply to people in a more timely fashion). We shall see what all unfolds in year #15…Onwards and Upwards my people!
Been meaning to post this one up for a solid year-plus, but, better late than never is clearly a motto I subscribe to and this final day of our 14th year as a blog seemed like the perfect time to post it. “The Perfect time,” is an interesting way to describe things. “Perfect,” is a word that I’ve been thinking about a lot of late, what defines perfection, in a song, in a relationship, in a moment. We often think of “perfect,” as being flawless, but I don’t know if I’ve ever subscribed to that idea. For me “perfect,” is about a feeling…a feeling that a thing, a person, a song, is so good, you don’t want anything about it to change. The beauty of performances once they are set to record is that, aside from whatever may happen to the specific piece of wax over the years, the recording remains the same. So when you discover a “perfect” song, it remains perfect every time you hear it or you play it for someone else. Of course, what one person views as “perfect,” may be some thing else entirely to different ears. But differences of opinion don’t change how perfect that thing may be.
Part of what made this record perfect, perfect to share on this blog, for sure, is that it came from DJ Shadow’s collection. It was one of a number of records Shadow was selling at one of his Rappcats storage sales. The record hung on the wall just behind Josh as he chatted with people through the day. Without much information on the front (Shadow often makes helpful notes on the records he sells, such as “Breaks B-4” on the Fred Cancio LP that also came from his collection), but intrigued by the cover and its placement on the wall, I just asked “what’s up with that one?” to which Shadow said something to the effect of, “it’s a private press record from the 70s, see if you can figure out which song I dig the most on there.” Challenge accepted!
From what I can tell, Ness Harding only recorded this album, an album where she plays virtually all of the instruments (except the “Syndrums,” that seem to make some distinctive sounds on “Parting Of Man” and “Your Colorado Way”), and an album that is clearly a labor of love, with virtually every song dedicated to someone from Harding’s life, even including her horse Cappy. But it’s the songs that are connected to specifically to someone named Melissa Rogers that I felt most drawn to. All three of the songs I’ve chosen to share here have “Lissa” in mind, “Lissa’s Rose” and “Your Colorado Way,” are Harding’s reflections about this person, described as a “past friend,” which gives me the impression (especially if you take the lyrics of “Colorado Way” literally) that the two women had a serious falling out, and perhaps these songs were Harding’s way of trying to make amends to this person who they very clearly cared deeply for and made an impact on them. Lissa shows up again on the final track of the first side, this time as the credited song writer for “Parting Of Man.”
What was clear to me from its opening notes was that “Parting Of Man,” was the song that Shadow had to have been talking about, something that I confirmed with him when I bought this album. It’s one of those songs that when someone has a defined sound about them, you hear it and just think, “oh yeah, I could see Shadow doing something with this.” It just has the vibe. It’s always wild to me, especially when listening to private press records, how much a good song will just literally jump out of the speakers when you hear it. With a number of these kinds of records you hear a lot of sincere and earnest, but largely mediocre playing, but every so often, the needle drops on something that comes close to perfection. With the sound of rolling waves and seagulls, before a pensively strummed guitar comes in, and then these rising waves of sound from a synthesizer hits…it’s a vibe for sure. The song’s single verse also just hits perfectly, before the instrumental elements take over for a bit. It’s a strikingly simple song, but once it gets going, it’s one that definitely hits you, gets the head nodding and compels you to run it back again and again.
“Parting Of Man,” is one of those imperfect perfect songs that seem to only be found on private press albums, made even more perfect, not only because it originally came from Shadow’s collection, but also because it was recorded at a place called Perfection Sound in Smyrna, GA, not too far from where I grew up. And all of the above is why it felt like, finally, the perfect time to share this album with you…Peace & Bright Moments.
I’m about 99% sure that this record, from Mike Johnson and a few of his friends on the seemingly private label “Freedom Light,” came my way via Cool Chris of Groove Merchant. Memory is getting a little fuzzy these days, especially after all of the record therapy I did during the pandemic and the hundreds of records I bought. Part of the dilemma of being a collector is knowing when to stop. I mean, if you’re truly a collector, you never stop, but at some point you have to know when you’ve reached your limit. For me, after rebuilding my collection, my limit is set by the two record shelves that house all of my vinyl. I never want my collection to get bigger than these 24 squares and once they did fill up last year, I went through all of them and decided who was going to stay and who was going to find a new home. While there were a number of records that I knew I no longer needed or wanted, there were almost an equally sizeable stack of records I had bought but not spent much time with and couldn’t remember if there was anything good enough to hold on. Ultimately, I think I only ended up saving maybe 20 records in that stack, but one of those was this one from the aforementioned Mike Johnson.
I buy a lot of records just on potential, sometimes I’ll have the benefit of there being a turntable to preview things, but some times it’s just vibes from the cover or song titles. In many instances that potential doesn’t pan out and those records are easy to let go. But then there are records like this where there’s just enough of a good thing going on that I think, “yes, you can stay a little while longer.” In this particular case, the thing that solved my stay/go dilemma was the lead song “Dilemma,” which I dig on many levels. First there’s its overall sound, which sounds like it was both recorded a couple years before as well as a couple years after the date of release on the jacket of 1973. Its just got this great lo-fi, private press psych feel to it…and to add to it, there’s the message of the song, I mean, just dig these lyrics…
And dig the way Johnson sings the lyrics, with just a shade of 1970s flamboyance that would make you think the band would have had solid stage show, even if they appear to be just a little hometown band from New Hampshire. You never know what you’ll find on a private press record. But every now and again, you find a pure gem, and those are always worth holding on to, as long as you feel they still sparkle…
With almost exactly one month before the unveiling of a very special 14th anniversary mix, it’s perhaps the best time to finally post something about this album, one that’s been very close to my turntable since first coming across it at the end of July in 2022. I’d come up to the Bay Area on a weekend trip with my dog (our first trip together ever), the most time I’d spent there since moving to LA. As is always the case whenever I’m in the Bay Area, part of the trip included a trip to Groove Merchant in Frisco. This particular time I had brought a couple of rare Sun Ra records on the Saturn label to trade with Cool Chris, without any idea what might be at the store at that moment. There were some nice things, a few of which will likely find their way here eventually, but Chris mentioned that he did have something special, something he rarely came across. This album from the band Lotus.
All Chris knew about it was what was evident from the cover, this was an album on the Reynolds Records label, which had a few records folks such as we are often looking for, from Quinn Harris & Masterminds (or just the Masterminds themselves), and from a pair of Steve’s, Steve Marshall & Steve Parks. Not one of the players on the record sounded familiar, and none of them seemed to be listed on any other records from the time period, at least none that are listed online. Bob Okamoto on keys, Charles Peacock on bass & synths, Joel Cohen on guitar and Gregory Taylor on some mighty drums.
No credits for any of them elsewhere that I could find. It’s as if four total unknowns just went into the studio to record on some fair day in 1975, and then created a low-key masterpiece. And, it is the masterful playing that keeps me coming back, especially on the first side, a 19 minute tour-de-force, broken down into first, second & third impressions (due to my long standing policy of not posting the majority of an album, given that there are only three total tracks, I’ve posted excerpts from that track)…The musicianship on this record is so good that it almost leads me to believe that the names listed are assumed names, and the actual players were bigger names that just wanted to put to wax a session they were proud of, but couldn’t do it on any of the labels they were signed to. I don’t know how many times I’ve listened to this record at this point, but every time I’m struck by how exceptional the playing is on it. At times it reminds me a little of Pi-R Square & Lonnie Hewitt’s recordings from the 1970s, or a quick moment will remind me of Roy Ayers’ Ubiquity in the early part of the decade (doesn’t the slow down 4:30 into “Tye“ remind you of “We Live In Brooklyn Baby?”) but there’s also something about the playing that just sounds so unique.
I truly hope one day I discover the enigma that is Lotus, what the story of this recording was, and more about these players, but for now, I’m just thankful for the serendipity of the day that allowed me to come in at the right moment and have the chance to come across this exceptional record…
It’s been some time since Tina Turner passed, a moment that I knew I would have to mark here on Melting Pot, since, as I’ve said, she was one of my mother’s favorite artists. I mentioned back in 2016 a story I had heard many times:
“She grew up in the same West Tennessee locales as Tina Turner. In fact, for a time, Turner went to my mother’s high school, Carver High in Brownsville. Turner was there for a short time, but once she became a singer, it became a mark of pride for people in Brownsville (Nutbush City Limits, where Turner was born is about 10 minutes from where my mom grew up). I remember her telling me a story of how she and some of her sisters caught a Tina Turner concert in the 1980s and actually got back stage to see her because they all went to Carver.”
So much of Tina’s story has been a part of my story, there is no way I couldn’t mark her passing without some type of note. In her passing, there have been a number of pieces that have contextualized the work & life of Tina Turner, but I think the most powerful thing that I’ve read came from Negarra A. Kudumu, where she said the following, a point that linked up perfectly with a conversation I had recently had noting how Tina, Nina Simone, and others who had suffered personally traumatic experiences, sought refuge outside of the US, in order to perhaps escape the broader traumatic forces at work in this society for Black folk generally, and Black women particularly:
“…undoubtedly, [Tina] was a brilliant musician and performer. Part of her brilliance, though, had everything to do with three important things she did: 1. She defended herself against an abusive partner. 2. She left an abusive partner. 3. She left the USA and settled in Europe where she was better treated and better appreciated.
If there’s anything that Tina’s life has taught us it is to not tolerate abuse and to leave a situation when it is no longer serving you. Too many people think abuse is the standard price to pay for success. Tina showed us, in word and deed, that it’s not.”
I struggle some times with the fact that I’m drawn most to the period of time when things were at their absolute worse for Tina. I’m not sure I’m equipped enough at the moment to really dive deep into the why of that. But one of the things that I do find fascinating about this period of time are those moments where Tina was able to have control, write her own lyrics and even get credit for them. One of the songs I thought about sharing, “Up In Heah,” is one of those moments. It’s a song that is too slow to be played in most clubs, too fuzzy to be played at funk spots, too funky to be played at rock spots, one of those songs that doesn’t easily find a way to ears. But it’s a song, that ever since I first found it in Bill Wolfe’s collection of 45s at the old Brookhaven Records in Atlanta, I’ve always enjoyed finding a way to work it into a set (generally, very early in the night). Or the song I have chosen to highlight here with this post, “Let It Be.” The Beatles’ music is such that virtually no cover sounds as good as the original, and I don’t claim that isn’t the case here. But what is striking, in addition to Tina’s pained and soulful performance, is that this is one of the few times I can think of where artists completely changed the Beatles’ original lyrics, found here in an alternative form that seem to be unique to this sole version. Given that there’s no credit to who changed the lyrics, even though Ike is listed in two different ways on this album, it’s possible that Tina wrote these lyrics.
When I find myself in times of trouble, Evil thoughts they come to me, Taking away my wisdom, But I let it be.
When prejudiced people finally agree, Open their eyes and they will see, There’s gotta be an answer, If they’ll let it be.
Let it be, Let it be, Let it be, There will be an answer, If they’ll let it be.
When things are dark and its hard to see, Trouble seems to want to follow me, But I remember my words of wisdom, Let it be.
Although its hard, there’s still a chance, A chance that they all will see, That we could live together, If they’ll let it be.
Let it be, Let it be, Let it be, Lord Let it be, There will be an answer, If we’ll let it be.
They say to learn to love is to understand, I’m givin’ my all, I’m doin’ what I can, Using my thoughts of wisdom, Let it be.
And if I find it hard, I’ll kneel and pray, Hoping things will change some day, Use our minds of wisdom, To let it be.
Let it be, Let it be, Let it be, Lord let it be, There will be an answer, If we’ll let it be.
Say it again, Let it be, Let it be, Lord, Lord Let it be, Use our minds of wisdom, Let it be…
These lyrics change the tenor of the song dramatically, even if they don’t always make logical sense. From a “this too shall pass” mediation, this song becomes more of a call to not just accept things as they are, but to use the words of wisdom you have learned to effect change. Ultimately, it’s the feeling that counts, and how these words, with Tina’s performance, transform the song. As far as Beatles covers go, it’s got a unique sound, and given what else the group was recording around this time, it makes you wonder what else Tina might have been able to showcase if she’d been in a different situation and in a situation where all her talents could truly shine. We’ll never know that of course…By the time she had found her freedom, the landscape of music had changed, but I do find it fascinating to listen to songs like this and dream a little about what psychedelic soul nuggets Tina Turner might have been able to conjure up if given true freedom in the late 1960s & early 1970s. All told, I am thankful for all of the music she created and the extraordinary example she set through living her life…And now, Rest In Peace Queen, never to be forgotten.
Welp folks…clearly 2023 didn’t start out the way I thought it was going to. I was hoping this would be my snapback year, after the previous pandemic pauses to life, and it may still be that, but the last 3+ months have definitely put me through the ringer. As always, the blog and sharing music isn’t far from my mind, but teaching is my full-time job, and it is a proper full-time job that takes up most of my time. My mind only has so much bandwith and when you have waves of familial emergencies, multiple heartbreaks (that recall Greek tragedy, for real) and all the healing that all of that entails, there’s just only so much that one can do. This track from Jeanette Baker has come to mind multiple times as everything has been going on in this particular moment. Seemed a fitting way to try to force myself to get back into the swing of sharing new music, which I hope to get back to on a weekly basis, while the posts of the past wait for me to finish up classes in a couple weeks and get into the first Summer in years where I’m not teaching and will actually be able to relax my mind so I can get back to doing what I really love doing…Writing and sharing music here on Melting Pot. Keep the faith, y’all…Onwards & Upwards.
{Updated 6-5-23} Welp, for those of you who loved the super duper late addition of last year’s “Top Digs,” you should love this even more delayed version for 2022’s new old vinyl that came my way! What can I say folks, it’s been a whole year, it’s barely June! But we keep on keepin’ on, and big things are brewing once again for Melting Pot in the near future. So, without any further delay, here’s a collection of some of the best wax I picked up last year…Enjoy!
Playlist:
{opening theme} Booker T & The Mgs – Melting Pot – Melting Pot (Stax)
~~~~ Break ~~~~
Jeannette Baker – Vacation From My Mind – 7” (Astro-Nett)
The Pastor Brothers – Don’t Leave Me Baby – 7” (Avco)
Cortex – La Rue – Troupeau Bleu (Disques Esperance)
Galt McDermott – Golden Apples Pt. 2 – The Nucleus (Kilmarnock)
Nonato e Seu Conjunto – Fitipaldiando – S/T (SOM)
Bobby Walker – I Can’t Stop Lovin’ You – This Is Walker Country (ARS)
Thomas Brown Mardi Gras – Afro-Latin Percussion: Clinician Series (Golden Crest)
The Returners – It Seems That Way – 12” (Ebonite)
~~~~ Break ~~~~
Steve Davis – Poor Child Of The Street – Music (RCA)
Breakout – On The Other Side Of The Rainbow – Na Drugim Brzegu Teczy(On The Other Side Of The Rainbow) (Pronit)
El Gusano – Work Your Hand To The Bone – Fantasia Del Barrio (Heavy Light)
Pugh – Love, Love, Love – Ja, Da, A, Da! (Vault)
Jed Gould – LACA Perv – La Sound Track ’76 (K West)
Ana Mazzotti – Eu Sou Mais Eu – S/T (GTA)
Valli Scavelli – Floating – Floating (Lambda)
Ian Carr – Summer Rain – Belladonna (Vertigo)
~~~~ Break ~~~~
Kathy McCord – Velvet Smile – S/T (CTI)
Mike Johnson & Friends – Dilemma – Velvet Prince (Freedom Light)
Luellen Reese – Silvery Waterfall – S/T (Musician’s Co-Op International)
Red Hook – Snow – S/T (Blue Lion)
Johnny Bello’s Strawberry Cliffs Of Monica – Black Oil – 7” (Sand)
Jazz Baroque Quintet – Princess Mary Elliot – S/T (Telemusic)
Ernest Jones & the Gospel Stars – Death Is Following You – 7” (API Gospel)
{Update – 4-21-23} Y’all…it’s been an extra long minute since these were promised, for the second year in a row! But the wait will soon be over and I’ll have them all up very very very soon! 100% promise this time!
