VIA PRESS RELEASE | Craft Recordings is pleased to announce the 25th anniversary reissue of GRAMMY®-award winning artist Dave Alvin’s King of California. Available at streaming services and on CD, and for the first time on vinyl, the album was originally released in 1994, to critical acclaim on Hightone Records. The remastered, expanded edition includes a previously unreleased instrumental studio track, “Riverbed Rag,” along with bonus material.

Recorded in Los Angeles the day after the historic 1994 Northridge earthquake and produced by Greg Leisz, King of California had its genesis in the album’s title track, a readymade folk ballad, written for his mother, in which an aspiring suitor heads west to make his fortune in the wild, still-young Golden State. “King of California is when I decided ‘this is when I let the song tell me what it sounds like,’” says Alvin. “Ever since then, that’s been my rule. It sounds ridiculous, but it was something I had to learn.”

Featuring acoustic interpretations of some of the finest songs in his catalog, along with new, folk-inflected compositions, and notable covers, Dave Alvin found the true measure of his own voice with King of California. “It was ironic that for a guy who was known as a loud guitar player and questionable singer, his best seller was an acoustic album,” says Alvin.

Included are songs written and originally recorded during the ’80s: “Barn Burning” from American Music (1980) the debut album from The Blasters, “Bus Station” and “Leaving” from the Blasters’ Non Fiction (1983), “Little Honey,” written with X’s John Doe and featured on the Blasters’ Hard Line (1985), and “Fourth of July,” which appeared on both X’s See How We Are (1997) and on Alvin’s solo album Romeo’s Escape (1987). “Every Night About This Time” also appeared on the latter album.

Read More »

VIA PRESS RELEASE | Out of the hundreds of punk bands that emerged from the late ’70s punk scene, only about a dozen or so have achieved iconic status four decades later. They include the Sex Pistols, the Clash and the Damned from the U.K.; the Ramones and Patti Smith Group from New York; X, the Germs and Black Flag from Los Angeles; and from San Francisco, the Dead Kennedys.

The DKs embodied the spirit of punk from the get-go. Their very name was a shocking reminder of the collapse of the American Dream. Then again, the name would be nothing if the Dead Kennedys didn’t have the goods to back it up. DK40, a three-CD live collection due April 26 from Manifesto Records, offers the aural evidence that the Dead Kennedys were one of the most potent punk bands — period. It features the band serving up amped-up live versions of all their classic tracks, free from the constraints of the recording studio.

Formed in 1978 after guitarist East Bay Ray’s ad in The Recycler attracted the attention of singer Jello Biafra, they were soon joined by bassist Klaus Flouride; guitarist 6025 and drummer Ted. D.H Peligro soon took over the rule of the drum chair.

After gigging around the Bay Area, they soon built a reputation cemented by the release of their first single, “California Über Alles,” on their own DIY label, within a year of their formation. Over a boleroesque rhythm consisting of pounding drums, throbbing bass and jagged guitar lines, Biafra lays into then-and-future California Governor Jerry Brown and the hippy dream. The song includes such memorable lines as “It’s the suede denim secret police / They have come for your uncool niece.”

Read More »

I’ve never warmed up to synthesizers, and isn’t that the point? They’re supposed to sound steely cold and inhuman–they’re machines, for christ’s sake, and utterly incapable of that friendly human touch one associates with, say, Eddie Vedder or your local insurance agent.

For this reason and many others having to do with angular haircuts and architectural clothing I’ve always abhorred English synthpop. But that was before I finally managed to overcome my atavistic aversion to the stuff long enough to listen to one of the grandaddies of them all–Gary Numan’s 1979 LP The Pleasure Principle.

Nothing succeeds like excess, and on his first post-Tubeway Army outing Numan dispensed with the electric guitars and went full robot. What’s more, not only do the synthesizers sound like machines–he does too. As a result this fancy piece of state-of-the-art electronics with its telegraphic one-word song titles is as cold as Antarctica–colder even because Gary got rid off all the penguins!

The Pleasure Principle–which is all about the pleasures and perils of alienation, and the myriad disadvantages of being sentient–may be as frigid as a meat locker, but it’s as hook-filled as a meat locker too. But not always–Numan also tosses in some frosty and atmospheric instrumentals (“Airlane,” “Asylum”) along the lines of David Bowie’s ambient work with Brian Eno. (As for the non-instrumentals, some bring to mind Eno’s early solo work, sans quirks.)

Read More »

VIA PRESS RELEASE | On April 17, 1989 in the UK and April 18, 1989 in the US, the Pixies’ second studio album Doolittle—the album now considered one of the quintessential alternative rock albums of the 1980s, that introduced the band’s signature “loudQUIETloud” sound, landed on a plethora of all-time “Best” lists in media outlets including Rolling Stone, NME, SPIN, Q and Pitchfork, the album that, when writing “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” Nirvana’s late Kurt Cobain admitted, “I was trying to write the ultimate pop song. I was basically trying to rip off the Pixies”—celebrates its 30th anniversary with a Platinum certification in recognition of one million units sold.

Produced by Gil Norton, Pixies – Black Francis/rhythm guitar, vocals, Joey Santiago/guitar, David Lovering/drummer, and original bassist Kim Deal – recorded Doolittle at Boston’s Downtown Recorders starting in the fall of 1988. The 15-track album, with its quirky, melodic sound and darkly humorous lyrics, was rooted in winos and hobos, Biblical violence, Hebrew numerology, torture, death, and surrealism.

Doolittle’s track listing was formidable—five of its 15 songs landed on a Rolling Stone Readers Poll that named the Top 10 Pixies songs of all time—”Wave of Mutilation,” “Hey,” “Debaser,” “Monkey Gone To Heaven,” and “Here Comes Your Man,” the latter two becoming Top 5 singles on Billboard’s Modern Rock/Alternative chart over the summer of 1989. London’s Daily Telegraph called the album “a scintillating rock’n’roll album,” the NME wrote, “‘Doolittle’ is consistently brilliant…let’s be honest: this is what music was made for,” and in its five-star review, Rolling Stone remarked that it “laid the groundwork for Nineties rock.”

Read More »

“Just like I would fight to the death to prove that film photography looks and feels better than digital photography, I would do the same for vinyl records versus digitally streamed or downloaded music.”

“Music listening however—just like photography—is subjective, and most people under the age of twenty-five have likely only ever consumed music digitally (sweeping generalization there, sorry!). So I’m not about to stand here and say they are wrong for not appreciating vinyl—or film for that matter. It’s all about the personal experience, and I would never judge someone on their personal experience. That’s how religious wars start.

To me, vinyl feels like I’m in the room with the band. It feels like the sound is penetrating my very being. I can hear every nuance, every imperfection, every frequency. It’s warm, it’s dynamic, it has depth, and it feels like a living, breathing creature. I can get lost in vinyl, and I’m grateful that my turntable doesn’t stop automatically when the side is done, because it keeps me present with the record I’m listening to. I have to pay attention.

Read More »

Like any visionary artistic movement, the late-‘70s explosion known as No Wave was both ahead of its time and intrinsically related to its era. This is no more apparent than in the work of James Chance. As leader of the Contortions he debuted on the ’78 Brian Eno-produced compilation that essentially provided No Wave with its name, but Chance and his crew’s long-playing shining moment remains Buy. Initially released in ’79 on the ZE label, a 180gm gatefold edition with bonus cuts is currently available from Futurismo.

AAs the decades have piled up, the whole No Wave shebang has grown in stature from a dissonant and divisive intersection of punk and art into one of the 20th century’s more striking outbursts of indigenous creativity. It couldn’t have occurred anywhere other than the old, cheap, dangerous New York City, its geographical location but one of the factors causing many to disregard its emissions; hey, it’s just a bunch of arrogant Gothamites peddling pretentiousness.

For those less sensitive to matters of attitude in presentation, No Wave’s haughty stridency is inherent to its appeal. Amongst the scene’s most surly was James Chance; as detailed in his notes for Futurismo’s reissue, he left his hometown of Milwaukee after three years of conservatory study, saxophone in hand with an intention to play jazz. Sensibly he landed in NYC, but things didn’t go as planned.

It became clear that Chance, who’d gained experience playing the music of the Stooges and the Velvet Underground back in Wisconsin, was an ill fit for the burg’s loft-jazz milieu; in turn he gravitated toward CBGBs/Max’s Kansas City. Of course, he wasn’t quick to find belonging there either, and Chance and his pocket of cohorts shaped an alternative to creeping commercialism.

Read More »

VIA PRESS RELEASE | Craft Recordings is pleased to announce the first-ever vinyl edition of James Taylor’s 2007 live album, One Man Band.

Available June 7th, the double-LP set is pressed on 180-gram vinyl, and housed in a deluxe gatefold jacket. Mastered by Ryan Smith at Sterling Sound and pressed at RTI, this uniquely intimate performance captures Taylor at his best—paired only with his guitar, drum machine, and esteemed keyboardist Larry Goldings (John Mayer, Sia, John Scofield) plus pre-recorded accompaniment of the Tanglewood Festival Chorus on “My Traveling Star” and “Shower The People.” Full of his signature wit and warmth, Taylor’s anecdotes—interspersed throughout the evening—offer background on some of his most popular songs.

Following a three-year tour of the same name, One Man Band marked a triumphant homecoming for Taylor. Recorded over three nights, the performances took place at the historic Colonial Theatre in Pittsfield, MA—a venue that was handpicked by the Berkshires-based singer-songwriter. The album, produced by James and Dave O’Donnell, contains 19 songs and spans material from Taylor’s five-decade-long career, touching not just on his beloved hits (“Fire And Rain,” “You’ve Got A Friend,” “Carolina In My Mind”) but also deeper cuts (“Chili Dog” off 1972’s One Man Dog; “Slap Leather” from his 1991 LP, New Moon Shine) and more recent material (“Mean Old Man” from his 2002 record, October Road).

The pared-down nature of the sets were very much a return to the singer-songwriter’s roots. In the album’s original liner notes, Taylor writes, “The last time I toured solo was in the late ’70s. That’s how I started out, just the guitar and a handful of songs. As time went by, I added other musicians because it’s great playing in a big band. But from time to time…it’s good to get back to basics and to present the songs in their original form.”

Read More »

My Bloody Valentine’s famously obsessed frontman spent 3 long years and a whole shitload of other peoples’ money making this 1991 shoegaze classic, and he didn’t deliver a follow-up until 2013. Seems Kevin Shields found Kevin Shields a tough act to follow. As for the guy whose money he spent (Creation Records honcho Alan McGee), his verdict on the record is on the record. In 2014 he said, “Loveless is fucking overrated as fuck.”

Well I humbly fucking disagree. While there are brief moments on Loveless when my attention wanders, My Bloody Valentine’s “sheets of tampered guitar noise meet dreamy melodies and hushed vocals” recipe is a winning one. The songs contained therein are simultaneously abrasive and deliciously mesmerizing–Loveless is as hypnotic a drug as nembutal, but it won’t put you too sleep.

The formula’s simple–Shields utilizes a whole mess of tricks (reverse reverb, tremolo techniques, tuning systems, samplers, etc.) to create oceanic swells and tidal washes of guitar that he harnesses to beguiling melodies over which he and Bilinda Butcher sing like sedated angels. Every single review I’ve ever read has described the guitars on this record as “swirling,” but that’s not what I hear. I hear churning–the churning of raw distortion into creamy dream pop butter.

Both mood and volume vary–for some reason “Only Shallow” and “What You Want” are twice as loud as anything else on the LP–but for the most part what you get are a set of songs that sound, well, like some mad genius fucked with them in the studio until they sounded wrong–wrong in such a way that obliges you, dear listener, to grow an entirely new set of ears in order to hear them right. And you do. After a while the brain-melting seesaw guitars and slushy and pureed vocals not only begin to make sense but to sound inevitable–as inevitable as any great forward leap in music, or any of the arts for that matter.

Read More »