More stories

  • in

    Andy Paley, Whose Imprint Was All Over Pop Music, Dies at 73

    Musician, singer, songwriter, producer and more, he collaborated with Madonna and a raft of other artists and helped resuscitate the career of the Beach Boys’ Brian Wilson.Andy Paley, a music producer, composer and rock ’n’ roll chameleon who worked with artists as varied as Madonna, Jerry Lee Lewis and Jonathan Richman, and who helped resuscitate the career of the Beach Boys mastermind Brian Wilson after his much-chronicled emotional flameout, died on Nov. 20 in Colchester, Vt. He was 73.The death, at a hospice facility, was caused by cancer, his wife, Heather Crist Paley, said.A curator of the spirit of classic 1960s pop, Mr. Paley played many roles over an ever-evolving career. He got his start in the late 1960s as the frontman for a Boston-area power pop outfit called the Sidewinders, which briefly included the future FM radio staple Billy Squier on guitar and opened for groups like Aerosmith.Later that decade, he banded with his younger brother, Jonathan, to form a highly regarded, if short-lived, pop duo, the Paley Brothers. With their winsome looks and mops of blond hair, they appeared in the pages of teen bibles like 16 Magazine and Tiger Beat and toured with the pop confection Shaun Cassidy.A skilled multi-instrumentalist, Mr. Paley often went on the road with his close friend Mr. Richman and filled in on keyboards on Patti Smith’s 1976 tour of Europe.During the 1980s, he began to produce for Seymour Stein, the visionary label chief of Sire Records. Influenced by studio wizards like Phil Spector, Mr. Paley produced songs for numerous performers, including Debbie Harry, K.D. Lang, NRBQ, Little Richard and Brenda Lee.From left, Darlene Love, Phil Spector, Joey Ramone, Mr. Paley and Jonathan Paley in 1978. Even as an intimate of musical luminaries, Mr. Paley maintained the wide-eyed wonder of a fan throughout his career.Bob MerlisWe are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    ‘The Beach Boys’ Review: How to Make Good Vibrations

    This Disney documentary looks at the family ties and sweet harmonies that turned a California band into a popular treasure.The wholesome ocean-breeze look of the Beach Boys could make the group a punchline if it weren’t for their sweet sunshine sound. The origins of their intricate harmonies undergird “The Beach Boys,” a Disney documentary directed by Frank Marshall and Thom Zimny that notes obstacles in the band’s career but mostly tries to keep the good vibrations going.Brian, Dennis and Carl Wilson grew up in a musical household in Hawthorne, Calif., and eventually pooled their ample talents with a cousin, Mike Love, and a friend, Al Jardine. As told through a patchwork of polite interviews and mostly mundane clips from performances, the rise of their music was fueled by four-part harmonies, surf culture and entrancing orchestration not unlike Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound.Brian, who hated touring, was the band’s homebody musical mastermind, and he could imbue their pop with an outsider’s moods, while the Wilsons’ father, Murry, put on the pressure as their manager. Snippets from “Pet Sounds,” their landmark 1966 album, never fail to rejuvenate the movie. But after a while, you get the sense of a band that stopped growing, though the movie traces a fruitful competitive streak with the Beatles.Any deviations from the film’s obligatory timeline tour are very welcome, like a mortifying studio recording of Murry holding forth, and it’s a treat to hear the esteem for Brian among the Wrecking Crew, the storied group of session musicians. And for the pop romantics among us, the Beach Boys can still cast a spell with those four little words: Wouldn’t it be nice?The Beach BoysRated PG-13 for drug material and brief lapses into unsunny language. Running time: 1 hour 53 minutes. Watch on Disney+. More

  • in

    Brian Wilson’s Family Seeks Conservatorship for a Beach Boys Founder

    Mr. Wilson, whose musical genius powered the Beach Boys, has dementia, according to his publicist. His wife, Melinda, died last month.The family of Brian Wilson, the musical architect whose genius helped power the Beach Boys, is seeking to place him under a conservatorship following the death of his wife, Melinda, last month.According to documents filed in Los Angeles Superior Court earlier this week by lawyers representing the potential conservators, Mr. Wilson, 81, has “a major neurocognitive disorder,” and “is unable to properly provide for his own personal needs for physical health.” Melinda Wilson had previously provided care for her husband, but following her death on Jan. 30, the appointment of a conservator has become necessary, according to the petition filed on Wednesday.In a statement. the family said that LeeAnn Hard, Mr. Wilson’s business manager, and Jean Sievers, his publicist and manager, would serve as co-conservators.“This decision was made to ensure that there will be no extreme changes to the household and Brian and the children living at home will be taken care of and remain in the home where they are cared for,” the statement said.In an email to The New York Times, Ms. Sievers said Mr. Wilson has been “diagnosed with dementia.” She said that as a co-conservator, she would “ensure that all of Brian’s daily living needs are satisfied and he continues to lead an active life.”A hearing on the petition has been scheduled for April 30.Mr. Wilson, a revered founder of the Beach Boys, is widely credited as a musical visionary who channeled an idealized notion of California into a chart-topping sound.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    Melinda Wilson, Wife of Beach Boys’ Brian Wilson, Dies at 77

    Ms. Wilson’s relationship with her husband, a co-founder of the Beach Boys, was portrayed in the 2014 film “Love & Mercy.”Melinda Wilson, who rescued her future husband, the Beach Boys co-founder Brian Wilson, from psychological ruin when they were dating in the 1980s, died on Tuesday. She was 77.Mr. Wilson confirmed her death on Instagram, saying that they had been married for 28 years. No cause of death was given.Jean Sievers, Mr. Wilson’s manager, said that Ms. Wilson had died suddenly at her home in Beverly Hills, Calif. She added that the couple has five adopted children — Dakota Rose, Daria Rose, Dash, Dylan and Delanie Rae — who all survive her and carry Mr. Wilson’s surname.The couple’s relationship was portrayed in the 2014 biopic “Love & Mercy.” The film shows Ms. Wilson (Elizabeth Banks) meeting Mr. Wilson, played by both John Cusack and Paul Dano, in a Cadillac showroom in Los Angeles where she was working as a saleswoman.After the film was released, Ms. Banks said in an interview with ABC News that she had met Ms. Wilson while preparing for the role.“She said to me, ‘Music is his first love,’” Ms. Banks told ABC. “‘Nothing can replace it. It’s his being, it’s his essence, it’s his everything. So I’m settling for second, but it’s a pretty good — it’s a pretty good second.’”The film shows Ms. Wilson helping her then boyfriend navigate a bout of mental illness in the 1980s. That effort, and their courtship, is complicated by the presence of Eugene Landy (Paul Giamatti), a psychologist who had helped Mr. Wilson fight off depression and substance abuse to stage a professional comeback.Mr. Landy, whose team of professional minders at one point lived with Mr. Wilson 24 hours a day, insinuated himself into the musician’s life to the point where the therapist was at one point acting as his Mr. Wilson’s business partner, record producer and occasional songwriting partner.In 1992, a lawsuit by Mr. Wilson’s family resulted in a court order that barred Mr. Landy from contacting Mr. Wilson. Mr. Landy died in 2006.John Cusack as Brian Wilson and Elizabeth Banks as Melinda Ledbetter in the 2014 film “Love & Mercy.”François DuhamelMelinda Kae Ledbetter was born on Oct. 3, 1946, in Pueblo, Colo. She grew up in Whittier, Calif., and went to college there before becoming a model, Ms. Sievers said.She also worked as a producer on several films related to her husband’s music, including “Brian Wilson: Long Promised Road” (2021) and “Pet Sounds Live at Royce Hall” (2006). The latter title refers to “Pet Sounds,” a landmark 1966 Beach Boys album.When the couple saw the film “Love & Mercy” for the first time, Ms. Wilson told ABC News, she did not know how tough the experience would be.“I think I was more nervous than him when I took him to see it, and after, I said, ‘So what did you think?’” she said. “And he goes, ‘Oh, it was really a lot worse in real life.’” More

  • in

    My Haul From the WFMU Record Fair

    Rounding out a record collection with finds from the Beach Boys, Kraftwerk and Roberta Flack.Scenes from a great day album shopping in Queens.Lindsay ZoladzDear listeners,Over the weekend, I spent some time at the WFMU Record and CD Fair — a New York institution returning in person for the first time since 2019. A fund-raiser for the great, listener-supported radio station, this year’s Record Fair featured over 100 dealers hawking vinyl and other musical sundries at the Knockdown Center in Queens. I browsed for hours, and by the time I was done my back was sore from hunching over crates and my arms ached from all the records I was toting around. Who says record collecting isn’t a sport?That lingering pang in my shoulder, though, meant I left with a pretty decent record haul — which I used to create today’s playlist.Some people go to record fairs ready to drop big bucks on rare finds and coveted collectibles. That wasn’t my aim, though: I was in it for the cheap thrills and spontaneous discoveries. I found, for example, a fantastic, good-as-new-condition Ike & Tina Turner live album I’d never heard, at a stand where most records were marked down to 50 percent off in the event’s final hours. (Given that deal, I threw in a copy of Dinosaur Jr.’s scuzzy classic “You’re Living All Over Me” at the last minute, too.) For $5 or less, I acquired records by Bob Dylan and Roberta Flack.But I also learned about the perils of the discount bin. When I added a $3 copy of Waylon Jennings’s “Greatest Hits” to my pile, I thought I’d checked the condition of the LP. But apparently I hadn’t looked at the label. For when I pulled it out of its sleeve yesterday and went to play it, I found that I was actually in possession of … Neil Diamond’s “12 Greatest Hits, Volume II.” Talk about a rude awakening.Overall, though, the fair was a blast, and an opportunity to connect with record sellers in a setting way more personable than ordering something off Discogs. Each stall had its own style and personality quirks — like the one graciously offering a questionably large bowl of free “I More

  • in

    Wes Anderson’s Best Needle Drops

    Hear songs that memorably accompanied scenes in “Rushmore,” “The Royal Tenenbaums” and more.Gwyneth Paltrow as Margot Tenenbaum in “The Royal Tenenbaums.” She’s always late, but worth waiting for.Touchstone PicturesDear listeners,One day when I was 14, I stayed home sick from school and watched a weird little movie called “Rushmore” on Comedy Central. When it was over, I thought to myself, “Oh, so that’s what a director does.”I had never before encountered a movie that so distinctly seemed to come from a single person’s perspective. The filmmaker Wes Anderson had created his own alternate reality, with its own color scheme, its own vernacular, and — perhaps most crucially — its own killer music. I wanted to live inside of that world. I bought the soundtrack as soon as I could.For aspiring aesthetes, Anderson’s movies can be gateway drugs. Eager to catch all of his cinematic references and influences, his films led me to the work of directors like François Truffaut, Yasujiro Ozu and Satyajit Ray. But the songs in his films are vehicles of discovery, too. I’d never heard the Creation’s “Making Time,” that garage-rock classic with guitars that rev like a souped-up engine, or the Who’s gloriously bombastic rock opera “A Quick One, While He’s Away” until I saw “Rushmore.” I learned about Nico from “The Royal Tenenbaums” and Seu Jorge from “The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou.” Anderson’s carefully curated soundtracks felt, to me, like eclectic, handmade mixtapes.As I got deeper into movies, I realized that even the most personal-seeming film is the result of collaboration with countless others: cinematographers, production designers, wardrobe stylists, and, of course, music supervisors. The needle drops in most of Anderson’s films are the result of his longtime working relationship with the music supervisor Randall Poster. In more recent movies, like the Oscar-winning “The Grand Budapest Hotel” and the underrated “The French Dispatch,” he’s also worked with repeatedly with the composer Alexandre Desplat, who has composed intricate and appropriately quirky scores that help bring Anderson’s worlds to life.In honor of Anderson’s new movie, “Asteroid City,” which I am very excited to see when it comes out this weekend, I put together a playlist of some of the most iconic and unexpected songs featured in his films. Quite a few have become inextricably tied to Anderson scenes. Never again will I hear “These Days” without picturing Margot Tenenbaum walking off a Green Line bus in slow-motion, or “A Quick One, While He’s Away” without imagining Herman Blume destroying poor Max Fischer’s bicycle. Sic transit gloria, indeed.Listen along on Spotify as you read.1. The Creation: “Making Time”The tracks used in Anderson’s movies often serve as unofficial theme songs for characters, reflecting the way they see themselves — the song playing in their own heads as they walk down the street. Fischer, the scheming protagonist of “Rushmore,” is too square to truly embody the bratty, take-no-prisoners attitude of this jangly 1966 rocker from the British band the Creation; for him, it’s more of an aspirational soundtrack. (Listen on YouTube)2. The Ramones: “Judy Is a Punk”Anderson is a master of the montage, and many of his most memorable ones rely on a great, propulsive song to give its disparate shots a unified mood. One of my favorites compiles footage of a private detective’s dossier on Margot Tenenbaum’s secret life in “The Royal Tenenbaums.” The sonic jump-cut from silence to the Ramones’ explosive “Judy Is a Punk” sets the moment apart from the rest of the film, and makes all of Margot’s exploits seem that much cooler. (Listen on YouTube)3. Paul Simon: “Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard”Or maybe this is my favorite montage in “The Royal Tenenbaums.” When the disreputable patriarch Royal, played indelibly by Gene Hackman, wants to bond with his precocious, track-suited grandsons Ari and Uzi, he takes them out for some light mayhem: go-karting, water-balloon-throwing and petty larceny — all to the tune of Paul Simon. It’s against the law! (Listen on YouTube)4. Seu Jorge: “Life on Mars?”Anderson’s 2004 feature “The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou” featured the Brazilian musician Seu Jorge as a kind of one-man Greek chorus, singing acoustic covers of David Bowie songs in Portuguese. The melodies are so universally recognizable that you don’t need to understand the language to at least hum along to Jorge’s tender, sweetly crooned renditions of classics like “Rebel Rebel,” “Starman,” and of course, “Life on Mars?” (Listen on YouTube)5. Nico: “These Days”It’s the scene that launched a million Halloween costumes: Richie Tenenbaum waits for his escort from his days on the circuit, his sister, Margot. As usual, she’s late — but well worth the delay as she gets off the bus in her ever-present fur coat and raccoon-rimmed eyes, to the heart-stopping musical cue of Nico’s “These Days.” (Listen on YouTube)6. The Beach Boys: “Old Folks at Home/Old Man River”Several Beach Boys songs are used to great effect in “The Fantastic Mr. Fox,” but none as stirringly as “Old Man River,” which soundtracks a heavenly moment at the end of the film when the animals find themselves in a supermarket. “Get enough to share with everybody,” Mr. Fox instructs, “and remember, the rabbits are vegetarians and badgers supposedly can’t eat walnuts.” (Listen on YouTube)7. Françoise Hardy, “Le temps de l’amour”In “Moonrise Kingdom,” from 2012 and set in 1964, young Sam and Suzy run away together and attempt to live out their own feral version of adulthood on an island. Among their possessions is a portable record player for 45 RPM singles, meaning they can soundtrack their own lives. Just before the awkward beachside dance that results in their first kiss, Suzy puts on Françoise Hardy’s 1962 single “Le temps de l’amour,” an achingly perfect choice for a 12-year-old trying on an air of sophistication like a pair of too-big high heels. (Listen on YouTube)8. The Rolling Stones: “Ruby Tuesday”As it’s used in a crucial scene in “The Royal Tenenbaums,” this early Stones classic casts such a rosy, romantic glow that you almost forget that you’re rooting for Richie Tenenbaum to end up with his adopted sister. (Listen on YouTube)9. The Kinks: “This Time Tomorrow”Like the Beach Boys in “Fantastic Mr. Fox,” sometimes an Anderson film will feature several songs from a single artist. Anderson’s fifth feature, “The Darjeeling Limited,” conjures its Indian setting by using instrumentals from the films of Satyajit Ray, though its placement of several songs from the Kinks’ 1970 album “Lola Versus Powerman and the Moneygoround, Part One” — including the sweetly bleary “This Time Tomorrow” — serve as reminders that the film is filtered through a Westerner’s sensibility. (Listen on YouTube)10. The Who: “A Quick One, While He’s Away”Yet another top-tier Anderson montage, from “Rushmore”: a battle of petty acts of revenge between Fischer (Jason Schwartzman) and Blume (Bill Murray), given an anarchic grandeur thanks to this nearly nine-minute epic by the Who. Fun fact: While the version that appears on Rushmore’s official soundtrack is from the Who’s unrivaled 1970 concert album “Live at Leeds,” the version used in the film comes from the storied 1968 BBC special and eventual live record “The Rolling Stones Rock and Roll Circus.” (Listen on YouTube)11. Van Morrison, “Everyone”Anderson has a knack for ending his movies with a bittersweet, emotionally resonant song that lingers in the air long after the credits roll. One of my favorites is “Everyone,” the clavinet-kissed Van Morrison track that rings out at the end of “The Royal Tenenbaums.” At once melancholy and hopeful, it’s the perfect way to conclude a movie that pierces your heart even as it’s making you laugh. And I think it’s a pretty good ending for this playlist, too. (Listen on YouTube)The Amplifier was written in a kind of obsolete vernacular,LindsayThe Amplifier PlaylistListen on Spotify. We update this playlist with each new newsletter.“Wes Anderson’s Best Needle Drops” track listTrack 1: The Creation, “Making Time”Track 2: The Ramones, “Judy Is a Punk”Track 3: Paul Simon, “Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard”Track 4: Seu Jorge, “Life on Mars?”Track 5: Nico, “These Days”Track 6: The Beach Boys, “Old Folks at Home/Old Man River”Track 7: Françoise Hardy, “Le temps de l’amour”Track 8: The Rolling Stones, “Ruby Tuesday”Track 9: The Kinks, “This Time Tomorrow”Track 10: The Who, “A Quick One, While He’s Away”Track 11: Van Morrison, “Everyone”Bonus TracksSeriously, behold that performance by the Who in “The Rolling Stones Rock and Roll Circus,” and bow down to Keith Moon in all his glory. Some people believe that the reason the Stones shelved the TV special and did not officially release it until 1996 was that they thought the Who upstaged them. I’ll let you be the judge: Watch this performance and ask yourself if it’s an act you’d want to follow.If you’re looking for new music, too, this week’s Playlist has fresh tunes from Meshell Ndegeocello, Doja Cat, Peggy Gou and more. More

  • in

    Notable Boxed Sets of 2022: Pop, Rap, Soul, Jazz and More

    Anniversary editions (from Norah Jones and Neil Young), a dive into the hip-hop underground (via C.V.E.) and rediscovered live jazz (from Elvin Jones and Charles Mingus) arrived in 2022.In the archives of recorded music — and now video — there’s always more to discover (or exploit). This year’s boxed sets revisit blockbuster albums and go nationwide with local scene stars. The New York Times has already featured some major archival collections from bands like the Beatles, Blondie and Wilco. Here are more deep dives.Albert Ayler, ‘Revelations’(Elemental Music; four CDs or download, $58)Albert Ayler’s mid-60s work, once controversial, is now jazz canon. But the later phase of the saxophone radical’s brief career, when he experimented with funk and blues, and incorporated vocals from his partner Mary Maria Parks, is still overlooked. This set, the first complete issue of two July 1970 concerts at the French modern-art center the Fondation Maeght, expands prior versions by more than two hours — and makes a strong case that Ayler was in peak form here, just months before his death at age 34. On the ballad-like “Spiritual Reunion,” he caresses and adorns a prayerful melody atop gorgeous accompaniment from the pianist Call Cobbs, making even his quavering shrieks on the horn sound loving, while on “Desert Blood,” Ayler, the bassist Steve Tintweiss and the drummer Allen Blairman artfully frame a Parks song before embarking on an improvisation that suggests a softer yet still-incandescent version of the flame the saxophonist lit on his early classics. HANK SHTEAMERThe Beach Boys, ‘Sail On Sailor — 1972’(Capitol; six CDs, $150; five LPs and 7-inch EP, $179.98)1972 was a year of upheaval for the Beach Boys. Brian Wilson, the group’s mastermind, had grown withdrawn, leaving most of the songwriting to the other band members while Carl Wilson largely took over production. Two South African musicians, Blondie Chaplin and Ricky Fataar, officially joined the band. The two Beach Boys albums that were completed in 1972, “Carl and the Passions — ‘So Tough’” and “Holland” — still got their singles (“Marcella” and “Sail On, Sailor”) from Brian Wilson. But the other members’ broad and sometimes confused ambitions were clear in songs with elaborate structures and lyrics about topics like spirituality and colonial genocide — determinedly grown-up songs, not would-be hits. The much expanded boxed set includes an exhilarating full-length 1972 Carnegie Hall concert, songs in progress, a cappella mixdowns and a worthy, much-bootlegged “Holland” outtake, “Carry Me Home,” that laments mortality with lush harmonies. JON PARELESC.V.E., ‘Chillin Villains: We Represent Billions’(Nyege Nyege Tapes; LP, $20)The unrelenting weirdness of the Los Angeles hip-hop underground in the mid-1990s gave birth to an almost unending variety of techniques and characters. Among the most signature was C.V.E. — Chillin Villains Empire — a relatively unheralded crew affiliated with the fertile scene at the Good Life Café. This anthology collects songs from 1993 to 2003, some released and some not, that show off just how experimental C.V.E.’s primary members Riddlore?, NgaFsh and Tray-Loc were. With their bizarre cadences, unusual word pairings and unexpectedly punchy storytelling, they sound like close cousins to the freaky styles of Freestyle Fellowship, the scene’s pre-eminent eccentrics. JON CARAMANICAGuns N’ Roses, ‘Guns N’ Roses — Use Your Illusion I & II Super Deluxe’(UME/Geffen; 12 LPs, one Blu-ray and a book $499.98; seven CDs, one Blu-ray and a book $259.98)In 1991, no band was bigger than Guns N’ Roses, and on the two albums it released that year, “Use Your Illusion I” and “II,” it showed. Here was a group grappling with ambition using several different, sometimes competing tactics — songs that had the feverish intensity of metal, songs that touched on politics, songs that ran nine minutes long. These multiplatinum albums are epically unkempt, for better and worse — it doesn’t get much blowzier, and it doesn’t get much more rollicking, or arrestingly melodramatic. This doorstopper release is a sprawling boxed set for a sprawling pair of albums (remastered for the first time from the original stereo masters). There’s a book rich with ephemera, oodles of trinkets, recordings of two live shows, and a Blu-ray of one of those: from a bruising, chaotic jam at the Ritz in New York in 1991, a warm-up show for the Use Your Illusion Tour (even though the group hadn’t yet finished recording the albums). For capturing this era of this band, this excess is appropriate, but also telling. Implosion was around the corner — these albums would be the last full-length releases of original music it would put out for 17 years. CARAMANICAElvin Jones, ‘Revival: Live at Pookie’s Pub’(Blue Note; digital album, $12.99 to $17.98; two CDs, $29.98; three LPs, $54,98; three LPs and test pressing, $224.98)Elvin Jones’s elemental brand of swing, bashing yet balletic, propelled John Coltrane’s band for five magical years in the early to mid-60s. As Coltrane’s music grew more abstract, and, according to Jones, “hectic,” the drummer took his leave in 1966. The New York club gigs documented on “Revival” — recorded the following year, less than two weeks after Coltrane’s death — play like a manifesto of the bandleading philosophy that would define the rest of Jones’s lengthy career: Assemble a sturdy group — here featuring the saxophonist and flutist Joe Farrell; the obscure pianist Billy Greene, with Larry Young subbing on one tune; and the bassist Wilbur Little — put together a well-balanced set list of standards and originals and get down to business. Jones’s turbulent drive on Farrell’s “13 Avenue B” and way-behind-the-beat lope during “On the Trail” demonstrate why many consider him jazz percussion’s all-time heavyweight champ. SHTEAMERNorah Jones, ‘Come Away With Me (20th Anniversary)’(Blue Note; three CDs, $39.98; four LPs, $179.98)The hushed jazz-country-folk-pop amalgam of “Come Away With Me,” the debut album that became a blockbuster for Norah Jones, didn’t come out of nowhere. She had to home in on it along a winding path that led through music school, New York City jazz-brunch gigs that people talked through, homesickness for country music from her childhood in Texas, demos she made with songwriter friends in New York City and all-star recording sessions in a mountainside mansion near Woodstock, N.Y. Those sessions, rejected by Blue Note Records before Jones tried again with her friends and made her hit album, are unveiled on the expanded reissue of “Come Away,” and they reveal an artist quietly finding her own voice: one of elegant modesty. The rejected sessions, newly released, offer a lesson in musical chemistry. With musicians who were skillful but not her regular collaborators, Jones both deferred too much to her better-known accompanists and pushed her voice a little too hard. Although there are luminous moments, like her versions of Horace Silver’s “Peace” and Tom Waits’s “Picture in a Frame,” the results were capable but not quite right. PARELESPeggy Lee, ‘Norma Deloris Egstrom From Jamestown, North Dakota (Expanded Edition)’(Capitol; CD, $13.98)Peggy Lee aficionados know that one of the hidden gems in her vast discography is her 40th record, and her last for her longtime label Capitol, “Norma Deloris Egstrom From Jamestown, North Dakota.” (Yes, that’s Lee’s civilian name and her place of birth.) “Norma” is a mature work, born of the same lived-in ennui that had made “Is That All There Is?” an unexpected hit in 1969, when Lee was almost 50. “Norma” flew under the radar and remained out of print for decades, but half a century after its initial release, it can at last be properly appreciated. It is a stirring and remarkably melancholic album that gives voice to grief and isolation through Lee’s wrenching performances of “It Takes Too Long to Learn to Live Alone” and “Superstar,” at the time a recent hit for the Carpenters. Artie Butler’s arrangements are sublime, giving Lee’s anguish plenty of dramatic flourish. The seven bonus tracks are illuminating if not revelatory, largely alternate vocal takes, though Lee’s poignant song from the 1972 movie “Snoopy Come Home” is included. The rerelease’s main aim, though, is not to excavate old material but to introduce new listeners to “Norma Deloris Egstrom,” and one of her great works. LINDSAY ZOLADZGalcher Lustwerk, ‘100% Galcher’(Ghostly International; CD, $14; two LPs, $27)The most rewarding aspect of “100% Galcher,” the breakout mix by the house music producer Galcher Lustwerk, is its utter patience. On tracks like “I Neva Seen” and “Enterprise,” it’s clear the body is in motion, but there’s an overlay of deep soothing and pensiveness, an almost new age energy. This decade-old mix, which had its premiere in the Blowing Up the Workshop series in 2013 and is completely made up of his original productions, is being properly reissued as individual tracks for the first time now. It’s womb-like and astral, and Lustwerk’s talk-raps, which he casually ladles throughout, are like reassuring commands. CARAMANICACharles Mingus, ‘The Lost Album From Ronnie Scott’s’(Resonance Records; three CDs, $29.99; three LPs, $74.99)The Charles Mingus sextet featured on these two beautifully captured 1972 live sets from the venerable London club Ronnie Scott’s, intended for official release but shelved because of label limbo, was only intact for a brief stretch. But its chemistry rivals that of the bassist’s greatest groups. On a stunning 35-minute version of the “Mingus Ah Um” classic “Fables of Faubus,” the drummer Roy Brooks and the under-documented pianist John Foster skillfully steer the band between playful abstraction and crackling swing, while on the then-new “Mind-Readers’ Convention in Milano (AKA Number 29),” the saxophonists Charles McPherson and Bobby Jones and the trumpeter Jon Faddis show how fully they’d internalized Mingus’s signature blend of ornate writing and joyous collective improv. SHTEAMERNeu!, ‘50!’(Groenland; four CDs, $54.99; five LPs, $129.99)Among the creators of kosmiche, a.k.a. krautrock, Neu! was probably the most anti-pop of all. Alongside Can, Faust and Kraftwerk — which included the founders of Neu!, Michael Rother and Klaus Dinger, in an early lineup — Neu! embraced repetition, drones, found-sound noise and studio collaging, creating music in the early 1970s that would influence punk and industrial rock very soon afterward: sometimes raucous, sometimes meditative. The vinyl box collects the three Neu! studio albums from the 1970s; the CD collection also includes “Neu! 86,” which sounded less radical and more jovial, but still contentious. Both sets add a group of newly recorded tributes and remixes from fans including the National and Mogwai — who, try as they might, can’t quite sound as austere or cantankerous as Neu! in its prime, though Idles and Man Man come close. PARELESNancy Sinatra & Lee Hazlewood, ‘Nancy & Lee’(Light in the Attic; CD, $14; LP, $27; cassette, $12; 8-track, $35)After last year’s excellent Nancy Sinatra compilation “Start Walkin’ 1965-1976” comes the first official reissue of what is perhaps the highlight of her discography: the beloved 1968 duet album she made with her frequent collaborator Lee Hazlewood. Lush, cinematic and alluringly strange, “Nancy & Lee” still possesses every bit of its oddball charm; more than 50 years on, it makes the argument not only for Hazlewood’s boundless imagination as a producer, but for Sinatra’s open-mindedness and risk-taking, as she followed Hazlewood down avenues — the trippy “Some Velvet Morning,” for one — less adventurous pop stars would have avoided. The bonus material is scant, but fun: a lounge-y, sultry take on the Kinks’ “Tired of Waiting for You” and a hammy rendition of the Mickey & Sylvia hit “Love Is Strange.” Of their enduring, opposites-attract sonic chemistry, Sinatra quips in a lively new interview included in the liner notes, “We used to call it beauty and the beast!” ZOLADZ‘John Sinclair Presents Detroit Artists Workshop’(Strut; download, $9.99; CD, $13.99; two LPs, $26)The MC5 manager and White Panther co-founder John Sinclair steps into the role of smooth-voiced jazz D.J. on the intro track to this compilation, the first sampling of live recordings from the archives of the Detroit Artists Workshop, a collective he helped start in 1964 to present local concerts and poetry events. The set, which encompasses 1965 through 1981, features nationally recognized names (including the trumpeter Donald Byrd and the saxophonist Bennie Maupin, both heard in righteously funky settings), but it’s the local luminaries who make this an essential document of a regional scene. The pianist and longtime Supremes musical director Teddy Harris combines big-band-style horns and a hard-grooving R&B rhythm section on “Passion Dance”; the Detroit Contemporary 4 serves up elegant, impassioned post-bop on “Three Flowers”; and the organist Lyman Woodard’s Organization digs into fierce jazz-funk in 5/4 time on “Help Me Get Away.” SHTEAMER‘The Skippy White Story: Boston Soul 1961-1967’(Yep Roc; CD, $15.99; LP, $24.99)Beginning in the early 1960s, Skippy White was — and still remains — an all-purpose cheerleader for Boston’s soul and gospel music scenes: record store proprietor, radio D.J., and when necessary, record label owner and producer. This anthology of long-lost sides captures just a little bit of the music he helped usher into the world, and is accompanied by an extensive historical essay on White’s life and career by Noah Schaffer and Eli (Paperboy) Reed. White’s sonic interests were wide-ranging — there’s dizzying doo-wop from Sammy and the Del-Lards, and also a stretch of intriguing gospel singles including Crayton Singers’s desperate, almost unsteady “Master on High.” That rawness is there, too, on “Do the Thing” by Earl Lett Quartet, an instruction song for the dance floor, or maybe somewhere else. CARAMANICAHorace Tapscott, ‘The Quintet’(Mr. Bongo; download, $5; CD, $10.99; LP, $25.99)Horace Tapscott was a movement unto himself, a pianist and composer who spent decades advocating for Black artists in Los Angeles and mentoring up-and-coming musicians through his Pan-Afrikan Peoples Arkestra. Documents of his early work are scarce, making this previously unreleased set — recorded at the same session as Tapscott’s thrilling 1969 debut, “The Giant Is Awakened” — especially noteworthy. The music sometimes recalls earlier work by East Coast piano progressives like Mal Waldron or Cecil Taylor (both heard on fine archival releases this year), but Tapscott presents his own unique agenda. On “Your Child,” one of three lengthy, equally excellent tracks here, he plays dramatic, knobby lines that sometimes spiral off into jagged shards, ‌while the alto saxophonist Arthur Blythe‌ shows off the swooping agility and strong emotional charge that would earn him wide acclaim upon his move to New York in the mid-1970s‌. SHTEAMERMarvin Tate’s D-Settlement, ‘Marvin Tate’s D-Settlement’(American Dreams; three CDs, $30; four LPs, $75; four clear vinyl LPs, $85)Marvin Tate, who got his start as a slam-poetry champion, channeled his storytelling skills and multifarious voice — singing, preaching, narrating, taunting, shouting — into D-Settlement, a far-reaching band whose reputation should have extended well beyond its Chicago hometown during the 1990s and early 2000s. This boxed set collects the three albums D-Settlement made before breaking up in 2003, revealing a musical collective that easily vamped its way toward funk, rock, jazz, blues, gospel, reggae, punk, cabaret and more. Tate’s lyrics and delivery could be ferociously direct or sardonically barbed, as D-Settlement’s songs confronted poverty, racism and violence even as they summoned the joys of family and community — echoed in the communal improvisations of an ever exploratory band. PARELESNeil Young, ‘Harvest (50th Anniversary Edition)’(Reprise; deluxe CD boxed set, $49.98; deluxe LP boxed set, $149.98)The mythos of Neil Young’s fourth solo album still looms large in the popular imagination. “Harvest” is the record he made in retreat from fame at his newly acquired rustic Northern California ranch; thanks to its blockbuster success and its No. 1 hit “Heart of Gold,” it subsequently made Young even more uncomfortable with fame than ever before. Fans looking for a trove of demos or unreleased recordings may be slightly disappointed with this 50th anniversary edition, as it contains only three studio outtakes (“Bad Fog of Loneliness,” “Journey Through the Past” and “Dance Dance Dance”) all of which have been floating around in some variation for years. What makes the set worth it, though, are the DVDs, especially “Harvest Time,” a two-hour documentary (directed by Young’s alter ego, Bernard Shakey) that serves as an indelible time capsule of the record’s creation. Also fantastic is the 1971 BBC television recording, included in audio and video versions, of a solo Young, in especially fine voice, debuting some of his works in progress — and a stunned studio audience hearing “Old Man” and “Heart of Gold” for the first time. ZOLADZ More

  • in

    Don Lewis, Unsung Pioneer of Electronic Music, Dies at 81

    He invented the first system for integrating multiple instruments using a single control panel, predating the MIDI controller by years.It was 1974, and Don Lewis was getting tired of hauling around so many keyboards. One day he would be in a studio in Los Angeles, working alongside Quincy Jones. A week later, he might be on tour as a member of the Beach Boys’ backup band. Or he might be performing his own gigs, shuffling up and down the West Coast with an ever-growing assortment of keyboards and other equipment.He could have just taken his trusty Hammond Concorde organ, itself not a small item. But Mr. Lewis was an aural explorer, constantly on the hunt for new sounds. If he found a keyboard with a particular tone to it, he had to add it to his collection. He was a one-man band; he aspired to be a one-man orchestra.His problem was about more than sheer weight. Each instrument had to be controlled separately, and there was no industry standard for integrating them. An electrical engineer by training, he decided to strip them down for parts and build something new.It took him three years of designing and fund-raising, but in 1977 he finalized the Live Electronic Orchestra, commonly known as the LEO.This musical Frankenstein’s monster brought together pieces from three keyboards, a slew of synthesizers, control panels and a drum machine into a set of plexiglass modules. Mr. Lewis sat in the middle, like a musical air traffic controller. His design allowed him not only to choose the sounds he wanted, but also to mix them in real time.Mr. Lewis, 81, died on Nov. 6 at his home in Pleasanton, Calif. His wife, Julie Lewis, said the cause was cancer.These days, people are used to the idea that they can produce virtually any sound they want on a laptop. That was far from the case in the 1970s, but Mr. Lewis found a way to create a symphony of sound at his fingertips.The LEO cost more than $100,000, and he never made another. Still, it was a hit. He played six nights a week in a packed bar along Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco. Among his many fans was an engineer named Ikutaro Kakehashi, who was so inspired by Mr. Lewis’s invention that he went on to develop, with Dave Smith, the musical instrument digital interface, known as MIDI, the protocol that makes modern music production possible. (Mr. Smith died at 72 in June.)A big part of Mr. Lewis’s success as a live musician was getting audiences to listen to him and not gawk at his keyboard rig. His technology was so clever, so seamless, that most people soon forgot about it entirely and allowed the music he created to sweep them away. He was an unsung pioneer of electronic music who paved the way for a billion beeps, boops and oonz-oonzes to come.He wasn’t without his critics, who said that he was not a musician at all but a mere button-pusher. In the mid-1980s, members of the musicians’ union protested his performances, claiming that he would drive them out of business. He challenged their right to picket him before the National Labor Relations Board. He lost.The prospect of having to cross a picket line just to do his job was too much. He stored the LEO in his garage and tried to put the whole experience behind him. Several years later, the government re-examined his case, and this time decided in his favor — and even gave him a settlement.He didn’t bring back the LEO, though. He donated it to the Museum of Making Music in Carlsbad, Calif., where it sits on display today.He was a one-man band who with his invention, the LEO system, aspired to be a one-man orchestra. Mr. Lewis in 1971.Denver Post, via Getty ImagesDonald Richard Lewis Jr. was born on March 26, 1941, in Dayton, Ohio. His father worked odd jobs, and his mother, Wanda (Peacock) Lewis, was a cosmetologist. They divorced when Don was very young, and he rarely saw his father again until decades later.He grew up in a religious home, attending church at least once a week. Early on he became obsessed with the organ, and with the sounds that the church organist was able to draw out of it.One night he had a dream that he had replaced the organist on the bench.“I woke up and told my grandmother and grandfather, ‘I’ve got to learn the keyboard, because the feeling I had in that dream was something I hadn’t felt in my whole life,’” he recalled in the documentary “Don Lewis and the Live Electronic Orchestra,” scheduled to air on PBS in February.He enrolled at the Tuskegee Institute in 1959 to study electrical engineering. He sang in the school chorus and even performed at a rally for the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.He stayed only two years. As tensions with the Soviet Union began to heat up, the Army was expanding the draft, and Black college students, unlike most white students, were often not exempt.Mr. Lewis enlisted in the Air Force. He received training as a nuclear weapons specialist and served for nearly four years in Colorado and New Mexico.After receiving an honorable discharge in 1965, he moved to Denver, where he was hired as an engineer for Honeywell, ran a church music program and worked part-time in a music store. Soon he was getting booked as a nightclub act, and eventually made enough to quit his day job.Mr. Lewis spent the next several years on the road, often as a demonstration musician for Hammond, the organ company. He was already tweaking his instruments and equipment, looking for ways to eke out new sounds. He was also making his name as a studio engineer and musician, working with musicians like Mr. Jones and Marvin Hamlisch, especially after he settled in Los Angeles in the early 1970s.Along with his wife, he is survived by his sister, Rita Bain Merrick; his sons, Marc, Paul and Donald; his daughters, Andrea Fear and Alicia Jackson; and five grandchildren.After putting the LEO in storage, Mr. Lewis worked as a consulting engineer for companies like Yamaha and Roland. He was on the team that developed the sounds for Yamaha’s revolutionary DX7 — the instrument that defined 1980s synth pop — and the team behind Roland’s TR-808, perhaps the most popular drum machine ever made.He taught at Stanford, Berkeley and San Jose State, and with his wife ran a program to bring music into elementary schools.“I think music is more than entertainment,” Mr. Lewis said in the documentary. “I think it has a stronger and more meaningful purpose in our lives. And I think what we’re here to do as individuals is help people unlock and find those things that are dormant.” More