Home Blog Page 42

Stand for Freedom by Tony Frissore

0

A CALL THAT RISES THROUGH THE WIRE

Tony Frissore’s Stand for Freedom arrives like a signal sent across generations: part groove, part reflection, and wholly rooted in a moment of truth. The track leans into a warm, jazz-tinted piano motif that opens the space gently, almost like an invitation to listen more carefully than usual. It’s an unhurried beginning, textured with a soft pulse and hints of electronic haze, but beneath its ease lies an unmistakable sense of direction.

Before long, the composition widens, and Ralph J. Bunche’s voice emerges: clear, unembellished, and startling in its immediacy. Taken from his 1949 Nobel Peace Prize address, the excerpt Frissore chooses is not the familiar diplomacy-centered passage often referenced. Instead, he places a spotlight on Bunche’s sharper, more uncomfortable challenge: to confront injustice at home, to examine the gap between ideals and reality, and to recognize that progress requires courage, not complacency.

Frissore doesn’t dramatize this moment; he frames it. The production steps back just enough to let Bunche’s words stand in their own power, while still surrounding them with an atmospheric weave of bass, keys, and spacious electronic textures. Every sonic layer feels intentional; nothing overcrowds the message, and nothing softens it either.

As the track grows, its rhythm tightens into something sturdier and more hypnotic, blurring the lines between experimental hip-hop, conscious electronic, and something that brushes against acid-jazz groove. It’s a hybrid that resists easy categorization, which is exactly what keeps it alive. The music never chases genre; it follows purpose.

What stands out most is how naturally the past and present fit together. Bunche’s challenge does not sound archived or historic; it lands with the weight of now. Frissore’s arrangement amplifies that urgency without overstating it. There’s restraint here, but also resolve.

Stand for Freedom is not simply a political piece, nor a nostalgic nod to a powerful speech. It is a musical intersection where reflection meets accountability, where groove meets gravity, and where history refuses to stay in its assigned decade.

It’s a bold and a resonant work, an echo carried forward, and asking who will answer.. 

Album: PSYCHEDELIKA Pt.1 by The New Citizen Kane

0

A WORLD TOO BIG, ONCE YOU’RE IN YOU CANNOT ESCAPE!

Psychedelika, the latest release by The New Citizen Kane, arrives less like a release and more like a territory opening its gates; a reality that doesn’t ask you to listen so much as to surrender to its gravity. What begins as an album quickly blurs into something harder to define: a space stitched together with sound, image, ritual, and the strange magnetism of returning to oneself after years spent drifting. It feels like stumbling into a dimension that has been quietly building itself in the background, waiting for the moment you’re finally ready to step through.

The world Kane constructs is dizzying in scope: 17 tracks pulsing with restless spirit, a visual album that spirals outward like a dream you can replay, a companion app that behaves more like a living organism than a bonus feature. The whole era reveals itself piece by piece: breathwork beside neon storms, journal entries beside disco confessionals, synesthesia games beside heartbreak anthems. Psychedelika isn’t content to entertain; it wants to dissolve your edges, to show you what art becomes when the artist reclaims their own pulse.

Nothing captures that reclamation more tenderly than My Muse, a track born at the edge of burnout. It sounds like someone rediscovering oxygen, a soft ignition of honesty after years of running on fumes. The song anchors the entire narrative: creativity not as a career, but as the lifeline that pulls you back into yourself. The moment the melody blooms, you feel the relief of someone remembering who they were before the world’s expectations crowded out the light.

That rediscovery takes a wild turn in Heads Are Round, where thought spirals spin in and out of focus. Inspired by Picabia’s offbeat musing about the shape of the mind, the track jitters with the charm and chaos of inner chatter. It’s playful, philosophical, and electrically unhinged; a reminder that overthinking can trap you, but perspective can break the cycle with one sudden pivot. The sound whirls as if joyriding through the mind’s cluttered corridors, neon thoughts ricocheting off every corner.

But Psychedelika refuses to stay in one emotional register. On Well, Damn! Here You Are, temptation knocks at 3 a.m. and is let in with full knowledge of the catastrophe it brings. It’s witty, bruised, and deliciously self-aware; desire narrating its own downfall while still dancing in the ruins. The production smoulders, then laughs softly at itself in the dark, the sonic embodiment of a bad idea you already know you’ll repeat.

Push the Fear Out brightens the landscape with its cheeky, retro-futuristic defiance. Fear becomes a hologram; the track dares you to walk straight through. What could have been a heavy-handed message is instead a euphoric burst, flipping prejudice into connection and turning imagined monsters into dance partners. It’s joy used as resistance, the kind that insists humanity is always bigger than the things designed to fracture it.

Then comes Bite the Bullet, the album’s open wound. Stark, unornamented, and emotionally unguarded, it documents the kind of heartbreak that leaves no soft landing and no later reconciliation. The writing feels carved rather than composed, as though each line is an admission long delayed. It grounds the album’s kaleidoscopic swirl in something painfully human: the end of a love that doesn’t evolve into anything else.

Nightlife becomes both escape hatch and trapdoor in Ratbag Joy, the most upbeat descent you’ll dance through this year. Beneath the shimmering pulse lies the truth of a scene where euphoria disguises exhaustion. Kane captures that paradox with unnerving accuracy: the synthetic glow, the temporary freedom, the comedown that always claims its due. It’s a mirror held up to a culture that confuses motion with meaning, yet still finds brief beauty in the blur.

And then there’s Afterglow, the record’s softest confession. Anxiety is named without drama, its contours traced with rare gentleness. The track feels like the first deep breath after months of shallow ones. The glow that lingers after the fire but doesn’t burn. It’s an act of recognition, of disassembling what harms you so you can finally see the light you forgot you carried.

Across all eighteen pieces, Psychedelika behaves like a world expanding in real time: a cosmos made of wounds, laughter, late-night spirals, philosophical detours, dancefloor sins, and the quiet courage it takes to return to yourself. It’s a world too big to dip into casually, too alive to treat like background noise. Once you cross its threshold, you don’t walk out untouched.

It’s not an era Kane is building; it’s an entire universe!

The Stillness Beneath the Surface: Elvira Kalnik’s ‘Water Knows

0

Elvira Kalnik’s “Water Knows” unfolds like a secret whispered into a quiet tide — a song that seems less written than discovered, as though it were waiting beneath the surface all along. A classically trained artist who grew up in Europe and now makes her home in the United States, Kalnik has built a body of work that thrives on contradiction: the precision of discipline meeting the freedom of improvisation, electronic beats meeting the intimacy of confession. With “Water Knows,” she has distilled those tensions into something hushed and radiant.

The track begins as a suggestion — a pulse of synth, a single breath. Then, slowly, it opens: layered electronics, trumpet lines that wander like thoughts, and a beat that moves with the patience of water finding its way through stone. Kalnik’s voice arrives not as an interruption but as part of the landscape, soft at first, then blooming into something resolute. There’s a calm urgency to her phrasing, a sense that each syllable has been weighed and released with care.

Lyrically, “Water Knows” reads like an act of surrender. “There are so many questions, but answers only water knows,” she sings, turning uncertainty into a kind of grace. The idea feels ancient — that wisdom isn’t acquired but revealed, that the truest knowledge is fluid. Kalnik doesn’t fight that current; she lets it carry her, and us, wherever it wants to go.

What’s striking about the production is its restraint. Every sound — the brushed percussion, the muted trumpet, the rise and fall of synth tones — seems to serve the same purpose: to hold space. There’s no climax in the traditional sense, no crash or explosion. Instead, “Water Knows” crescendos inward, drawing the listener closer until the song feels like it’s happening inside your chest. The arrangement echoes Kalnik’s themes of release and renewal — sound as purification, silence as exhale.

In an era where electronic music often feels over-constructed, “Water Knows” makes a case for impermanence. It’s a reminder that stillness can be as powerful as spectacle, that beauty often emerges in the pause between beats. Kalnik’s classical background gives her the vocabulary for complexity, but it’s her willingness to unlearn — to trust intuition over structure — that makes this track so affecting.

Listening to “Water Knows” feels like sitting beside a river at dusk, watching the light fade and realizing that change, even the painful kind, can be gentle. It’s a song about letting go of what you can’t understand and finding peace in what remains. Elvira Kalnik doesn’t simply sing about water — she becomes it: reflective, shapeless, endlessly moving toward the next horizon.

–Mandy Peters

 

Album: Lost and Found by Northfield

0

Northfield is a rock band from Litchfield, Connecticut that sounds exactly like what you’d find in a time capsule from 1994. Fronted by Jesse Perkins, a self-admitted music nerd who rediscovered his passion for writing and performing after almost twenty years away, the band lives somewhere between indie rock and alt-country. The album title “Lost and Found” refers both to Perkins finding his way back to music and to the songs themselves, some of which were started way back in the ’90s and recently re-emerged. After recording basic tracks in his basement studio (dubbed “Good Enough Records”), Perkins brought in old friend and co-producer Mike Goldberg to finish and mix the album, adding guitar solos and keyboards. Greg Hughes drives the bass through the middle of each tune while Ethan Sawyer plays drums like he’s running from the cops. The result is fuzzy, jangly, earnest, and reckless all at once.

Northfield eases us into the slow ride that is this album with “With The Radio On”. That’s really what this whole album feels like: driving around with the radio on. Bright acoustic guitar and layered melodies bring the wholesome vibe of riding around a small town with friends, listening to music, and singing along. It’s those moments that make us feel like maybe life isn’t that complicated, and the lyrics describe that beautifully here.

Now that we are eased in, “It’s Too Easy” picks up the energy and delivers a cathartic release akin to passing by greenery in the sunlight in an afternoon run. The drums here really do the heavy lifting of creating a ton of momentum as the catchy hook keeps you grounded. It’s a high point in the album.

Next is “Let Me Break Your Heart”. This song really encapsulates that “lost and found” title of the album because it feels like a song that was written in the ’90s, with just everything about it. The production, the choice of harmony, the choice of rhythm, the way the acoustic guitars are layered, the vocal performance, it really feels like it was written a long time ago, and it’s like a time capsule in the way it sounds, but its content is timeless. It’s a song about a lovestruck guy asking for another chance; it’s a timeless trope, and the execution is genuine and authentic. It’s not just something written about a trope like an engineered pop hit; it’s much more than that. It’s at the heart of what rock music is.

Lyrically, “Grounded” is one of the best songs on the album. Musically, it stands out because it has a really memorable bassline. It definitely has that softer alt-rock energy from a songwriting perspective. That comes through even more on the acoustic demo version also included on the album. Being an acoustic version, it’s more stripped down, and the vocal performance here is more vulnerable and delicate. Both versions are winners here because they are great interpretations of the theme that just highlight different parts of it.

“Time Will Tell” hits the country nail on the head. The pacing of the song and the carefully crafted melodies are nothing short of genius. The guitar solo here is supremely melodic and singable. In my opinion, Mike Goldberg has really outdone himself on this one. It’s not flashy or anything, it’s just exactly what a melodic song like this needs.

“Some Days” is the kind of understated, wholesome anthemic rock that only works if there’s genuine emotion behind it because that absolutely translates over to the audience. There’s plenty of that here. This is an anthem that you will be singing in appreciation of the days when everything doesn’t seem that bad.

The band proves once more with “All The Same” that creating memorable hooks is just in their blood; it’s not a one-off. The melodic motif between the verses here really brings home the entire song, and its repetition works wonderfully with the song’s theme of everything all the same, so just like any great band, the music tells the story alongside the lyrics.

Leaning more into the rock side, “Take Me Out” is the loudest song so far. The warm, fuzzy bass tone on this song really works wonders with the drums to create a rocking rhythm section. Really, the bass tone across the entire album deserves high praise; it is absolutely a joy to listen to.

“In The Morning” dials the dynamics back. The slide guitar and that dampened snare sound set the vibe for the vocals to tell a dreamy love story.

“I Think I’m Ready” has the vibe of a montage song in a Hollywood movie in the best way possible. A protagonist is getting their things together as they head on to face the day. Aside from the obvious lyrical theme, here the music backs it up with the same energy.

Northfield saved the best for last. “The Sun Keeps Coming Up” is the longest song on the album, and that works massively in its favor. The subject matter just requires that nice half-time groove, and I think the band’s musicality and melodicism work best in this context. Winding verses about not being able to sleep the pain off and reminiscing about people and places, only for the chorus to come and remind us that the sun keeps coming up and it shines anew for all of us. There is hope yet.

“Lost and Found” works because Northfield isn’t trying to reinvent anything or prove they’re smarter than the music they love. This album could’ve come out 25 years ago, and that’s exactly the point. Perkins and company understand that good songwriting doesn’t have an expiration date, and sometimes the best thing you can do is make honest rock music that sounds like your favorite old flannel feels. The band’s chemistry keeps everything grounded, even when the songs get wistful. If you’re looking for innovation, look elsewhere. If you’re looking for rock music with heart, this is it.

Self-titled album by Baron Von FrankenPaul

0

Baron Von FrankenPaul came together at a NAMM Show jam in 2022. Saxophonist Baron Raymonde, guitarist Frank Osgood, and bassist/producer Paul Ill were working with MusiCares when they started playing together and realized they had chemistry. A year later, they jammed for three days at the Cross Rock booth during NAMM, and what started as gear demos turned into spontaneous grooves that stopped crowds. That’s where this band was born.

Their self-titled debut, recorded between The Loft Studio in Bronxville, NY, and sessions in Los Angeles, blends jazz, rock, and funk with a rotating cast of world-class drummers, including James Gadson, Steve Ferrone, Matt Abts, Wally Ingram, and Jeremy Colson. Pedal steel players Andrea Whitt and Greg McMullen add texture, and vocalist Olivia Morreale appears on one track. The album mixes bold reinterpretations of Coltrane, Miles Davis, Alice in Chains, and The Doors with original compositions. They’re celebrating the release with a show at The Bitter End in Greenwich Village on December 11th, featuring Van Romaine, Will Lee, Lou Marini, and others.

Starting us off, “Camera Obscura”, the chemistry of the band is very apparent, and the saxophone’s jazzy lines flow over the rock groove in a tangibly delicious way. The fuzzy slide guitar enters with its gritty vocal quality, serving as a foil to the smooth sax and adding a rich flavor profile to the song. Surprisingly, the face-melting solo on this song is on the sax, not the distorted guitar. But as you will see, this surprise is not a one-off; this album has many musical surprises in it.

“BVFP” is a bright, funky jam with the drums just having an absolute blast with the saxophone again shining as the main lead instrument, giving that cinematic jazz flavor. This song actually has the kind of jazz flavor that was popular in the ’80s. Well, until that clean guitar enters and we’re smoothly sent to this Dire Straits moment of serenity. But no worries, the saxophone comes back into the spotlight to solo us back into the melody. The band’s chemistry is undeniable.

Next is the band’s take on John Coltrane’s “Naima”. The element with the most immediate and notable difference is the drums. The drums are much more in line with modern progressive grooves and bring a refreshing quality to it, and keep the jam cohesive as the guitars chime in.

Another re-interpretation of a classic is what the band does with “Man in the Box” by Alice in Chains. I swear the saxophone sounds like a harmonica at some points; that’s how gritty Baron Raymonde makes it sound. The moment where everybody plays the chorus melody here is simply magic. It quickly became one of my favorite versions of the song.

Back to the originals, we have “Cactus”. This one has a really smooth and mellow groove, letting the interesting harmonic choices shine through. The melody here is really catchy and memorable. I found myself singing it in the shower. This is definitely an easy pick for a walk or drive at night.

Next up is “Lullaby For Zoey”. An atmospheric noir ballad, as you might have guessed from the name. The ambient guitar textures give it that unique edge that makes this combination of musicians and instruments so intriguing.

Taking a sharp left turn into progressive rock kind of territory, “Kasbah Knights” is a heavy song, and naturally, the guitars get to shine here a bit more. Carrying the headbanging groove and daring dissonant harmony to surprising places. Ultimately, it builds up to some beautiful solos that have great moments of synchronization between the band.

“Riders on the Storm” by The Doors is one of those timeless songs, and the band’s take on it is classy and faithfully recreates the rhythm section and tonal quality of it while also expressing themselves authentically. It’s a testament to their collective talent and chemistry to re-interpret the song in such a tasteful way.

Next is another re-interpretation, “In a Silent Way” by the legendary Miles Davis. It makes perfect sense for this group of musicians to play the song that marked Miles’ move to jazz fusion and the use of electric instruments. Their take on it has more of a funk groove and utilizes an arsenal of modern guitar textures to effectively modernize the tune.

Ending the album with a surprise, “Tall Shoes Mary” is a vocal song featuring Olivia Morreale on the vocals. An incredibly soulful performance from Olivia and the band’s backing vocals and warm guitar textures ensure this song envelopes you with its atmosphere. The band’s choice to end the album here is interesting because it comes as an intriguing surprise instead of starting with it and setting expectations for a vocal album.

Baron Von FrankenPaul‘s debut works because these three musicians understand how to serve the song rather than just showing off. The rotating cast of drummers keeps each track feeling fresh, and the mix of covers and originals never feels disjointed. What could’ve been just another jazz-rock fusion project instead becomes something that swings when it needs to swing and rocks when it needs to rock. The chemistry that started at that NAMM jam translates clearly onto the record. If you’re into jam bands, jazz, or rock with actual musicianship behind it, this is worth checking out.

Album: I’m Gonna Love You No Matter What by Todd Mack

0

Todd Mack started playing classical music at eight, picked up the guitar a few years later, and began writing almost immediately. His professional career kicked off in 1989 with a self-titled debut, followed by a decade of full-time touring and six more releases through 2011. Then came a 14-year gap. “I’m Gonna Love You No Matter What” marks his return with 11 story-driven originals featuring musicians from around the country, including Krishna Guthrie (Woody Guthrie’s great-grandson) on guitar, Pamela Lynn Cohen on fiddle, and American Idol semi-finalist Katherine Winston.

Recorded and mixed with Rob Vermeulen at Robbo Music in Morro Bay, CA, the album layers guitars, keys, fiddle, and mandolin into a rootsy Americana tapestry that highlights Mack’s gritty sound and lyrically focused writing. After more than a decade away, this is Mack reminding us what he does best.

“Angel Above” is a heartfelt acoustic ballad with a gut-wrenching fiddle performance highlighting the nostalgia and the remembrance of those who moved on from this life before us. The performances respect the weight and drama of the subject matter, playing to the themes, not above them.

“On a Line” follows as a lyrically driven folk song, examining the cognitive dissonance and peculiarities of modern life. The standout lyric, “Everybody is selling something and everyone is for sale,” captures the broad social commentary Todd Mack aims to convey.

“Dreams” slows the dynamics appropriately, starting out with a Hendrixian guitar line and slowly taking us on this half-time groove, discussing uncertainty and the humanity of dreams, and how we should follow them and hold on to them and never let go. Those are why we are here.

“No More (feat. Sadie Jasper)” is a duet about trust, love, and being there for the ones we love when they need us. The music is very simple and makes the perfect bed for singing along in a big venue with a bunch of people, as everyone just begins to weep.

“Ain’t Enough” starts dramatically with a delicate piano accompaniment to the softest performance from Todd Mack so far on the record. Thematically, as the title implies, it speaks to feeling like your love just wasn’t enough. It’s an emotion that we all experience at some point, and honest songs like this help us move forward.

“River Carry Me” is a song about longing for someone and missing home. The instrumental arrangement here leans into that yearning, with the fiddle and acoustic guitar creating space for the vocals to stretch out. It’s one of those songs that sounds like it could’ve been written a hundred years ago or yesterday, and that timelessness is what makes it stick.

“The Light Within” marks a stylistic switch in the record. Going for a more straightforward blues rock style with layers of mandolin and slide guitar, propelling us forward with that tom groove. The lyrics have biblical themes about how the light of god shines within, and the bridge even features some kind of radio voice reciting a prayer. A welcome change in vibe that will carry on to the next songs.

“Undone” is another of the more lyrically driven songs on the record, where the music is more tame with fewer melodic lines and motifs to give the vocals more space to tell the story. “Everything’s broken…Everything’s wasted, yeah, nothing is no good anymore.” There’s almost nothing more straightforward than this. The lyrics lay it bare, no metaphors or anything, just a man being undone.

“Reckless” is the heaviest song on the record, with a rhythm section that will make you stomp and want to get up and fight. There is an organ sound on the keyboard, tying the whole thing together as the lyrics rile you up, “There is no salvation from above.” This is the kind of cynicism and darkness this song delivers.

“If I” takes us back to ballad land with some somber introspection, with a hint of regret. The sense of melody here is impeccable, with the intermittent musical breaks doing so much of the heavy lifting to make this song work as well as it does. The cherry on top is the album’s most melodic guitar solo to close it out.

Speaking of closing it out, we are almost at the finish line with this wholesome song: “You Are There”. Musically, it’s more like a pop country song. Lyrically, it’s such a bright song. It speaks of the power of loving someone so much that the mere thought of them during a bad day can uplift you. It’s such a great song to end an album with.

“I’m Gonna Love You No Matter What” works because Todd Mack didn’t try to reinvent himself after 14 years away. This is the same rootsy Americana songwriter who spent a decade touring in the 90s, just with more life lived and more stories to tell. The album moves between heartache and hope without feeling scattered, and the collection of musicians Mack assembled brings depth to every track without overplaying. For a comeback record, it doesn’t feel like someone trying to prove anything. It’s just solid, honest songwriting from someone who never stopped being a songwriter, even during the long gap between releases.

Album: Out Of The Shadows by Mitch Dalton

0

Mitch Dalton‘s name appears on more major recordings than most people could count. He’s been the studio guitarist behind countless sessions, working with legends like Herbie Hancock, Wayne Shorter, Melody Gardot, Ella Fitzgerald, and Quincy Jones. But Out of the Shadows, released in August, marks his debut as a solo artist. The album pulls together a stellar London rhythm section, David Arch on keyboards, Steve Pearce on bass, Tim Goodyer on drums, alongside the three-time Grammy-nominated SWR Big Band from Stuttgart and percussionist Edwin Bonilla from Miami.

Across twelve tracks, Dalton explores his love of American music through jazz fusion, blues, the Great American Songbook, Latin rhythms, and bebop. It’s a mix of original material and reimagined standards that showcases decades of musical knowledge without feeling like a lecture. This is what happens when a world-class session musician finally steps center stage.

“First Thoughts Are Best” I believe, is a reference to a person’s instinct. Though those first thoughts can hardly be categorized as thoughts, as they are instinctual reactions to the situation. But the title rolls off the tongue a bit easier. Musicians of this caliber, such as Mitch Dalton and The SWR Big Band featured on the song go by the “Thought is the enemy of flow” a motto coined by legendary drummer Vinnie Colauita. There is plenty of incredible, improvisatory “First Thoughts” of gorgeous music on this song and the rest of this record.

In “Bird Meets Cat” the band stretches their rhythmic imagination as synced lines between guitar and saxophone play the head of the song. (The head is what jazz musicians use to refer to the main melody, if you’re unfamiliar.) And then everybody gets a turn comping and another turn for a solo. It’s like a game of musical chairs, but on the highest level of musicianship, it’s a delight to listen to.

We take a moment for romance with a beautiful vocal song, “We Do It” with Jazz Morley. You probably recognize her from her stunning performance of “Landslide” on The Voice UK a couple of years back. Here, it’s nothing short of incredible, delivering that sultry passion over that bossa nova groove with confidence.

The SWR Big Band is back with Mitch Dalton‘s tasteful cover of Larry Carlton’s “Room 335”. Mitch brings the acoustic guitar’s brightness and resonance to the classic song, and the band provides an evolving, colorful backdrop of harmony all the way through. It’s a beautiful re-interpretation of the original with fresh harmonic and rhythmic choices.

“Besame Mashup” combines the iconic riff and groove of Tito Puente’s “Oye Como Va” with probably the most recorded Spanish language song of all time, Consuelo Velázquez’s “Besame Mucho.” It’s a bold move that could’ve easily felt gimmicky, but Dalton and the SWR Big Band pull it off with genuine reverence for both sources. Sammy Mayne’s flute solo cuts through with that classic Latin jazz brightness, Marc Godfroid’s trombone work adds warmth and depth, and Jazz Morley’s vocal refrain ties the whole thing together.

“Yeh Yeh” is a smoky, bluesy song. Praise be to this amazing rhythm section. Everyone here swings like their life depends on it, and as you know, it don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing. Jazz Morley continues to showcase her diversity with the swinging vocal lines switching to melodic harmonies beautifully.

“Night Birds / Rio Funk” is a delightful merger between jazz fusion a la Chick Corea and traditional warm jazz funk. Its combination of textures and how smoothly the band flows between them is guaranteed to put a smile on your face.

“Take the YouTube” has probably the simplest and most mellow groove on the album. Letting the melody really shine. As the wordplay in the title implies, it’s a song you probably wanna listen to on the tube during a nightly commute. Sounds like something off the Fingerprints Larry Carlton album with Mitch Dalton‘s unique touch on top of it.

Next is “Freberg’s Folly”. This is a rhythmically complex and harmonically rich song. It’s a stunning combination of flamenco and jazz that tells a whimsical story about Freberg for those with the ears to listen.

“I Took the Blows” features a delicate performance on a warm nylon-strung guitar at its core. It continues that theme of combining flamenco elements with jazz ones to create something unique in its musicality.

“No Flippin’!” raises the bar of energy with its drum build-up and then goes into what I believe is a direct homage to “Sunshine Of Your Love” by Cream. Intentional or not, but those harmonized sections with the band seem to be quoting those iconic riffs in a jazzy fashion and then refraining to a more traditional style when it comes time for solos.

“LI’l Brian” is a magical ballad that takes its sweet time as it lulls us into a blissful ending to this colorful record. Starting with Mitch Dalton, with a whole minute of solo guitar somberly playing both melody and harmony, I was reminded of Joe Pass’s style of self-accompaniment, then once the big band kicks in, it’s like the credits are rolling on a classic Hollywood movie. But the music isn’t over yet. The band still has more tasteful improvisations up its sleeves. A standout among them is Sammy Mayne on the tenor sax.

Mitch Dalton’s Out of the Shadows is a polished instrumental jazz record you can feel comfortable recommending to your nerdiest jazz enthusiast friend. The album feels like a conversation between all of his influences, jazz fusion, Latin rhythms, flamenco touches, and classic American standards. A conversation led by someone who actually lived through hundreds of sessions, not someone who studied these styles theoretically. The SWR Big Band brings weight and sophistication, the London rhythm section keeps everything tight and musical, and the guest soloists all understand when to step forward and when to lay back. For a debut solo record, this is remarkably assured. Dalton finally stepped out of the shadows, and it turns out he had plenty to say.

Pas de danse by Riccardo Pietri

0

A CHOREOGRAPHY OF STILLNESS

Italian composer Riccardo Pietri emerges from nearly two years of creative quiet with Pas de Danse, a single that feels like a meticulously staged scene suspended in time. Born from a period of personal transformation and inspired by the work of Gibran Alcocer, this composition signals a clear evolution in Pietri’s artistry. It is a work that balances classical precision with the expansive sensibilities of new age, creating a space where movement and stillness coexist.

The track evokes the sensation of a rehearsal in an empty studio; each sound deliberate, each pause a moment to breathe. The music unfolds like steps in a ballet: measured, expressive, and imbued with a quiet elegance that draws the listener in. In Pietri’s world, every note is a gesture, every silence a subtle pivot, forming a dance that is both tangible and imagined.

What sets Pas de Danse apart from his previous releases is its reflective intimacy. While earlier works often embraced melodic familiarity, this piece explores nuance, layering, and space. The textures shift effortlessly between warmth and restraint, suggesting a composer deeply attuned to the emotional potential of sound. There is a meditative quality here, a sense of listening as participation, of being drawn into a performance that exists as much in the pauses as in the notes themselves.

Pietri has done more than return: he has reintroduced himself with renewed clarity and purpose. Pas de Danse is both a quiet triumph and a promise, signaling that 2026 may bring a series of compositions that blur the line between classical formality and contemporary introspection. For those willing to linger, it offers a rare experience: a dance of sound where stillness speaks as powerfully as motion, leaving an imprint that resonates long after the final step has fallen..

FolkIndieBob – Bob Augustine’s Songbook of Renewal, Resilience, and Reverence

0

In the long continuum of American folk music—where personal truth intersects with communal meaning—few debut albums arrive with the quiet, lived-in authenticity of Bob Augustine’s Folk-IndieBob. Performing under his fitting moniker Folk-IndieBob, the Pittsburgh-based songwriter offers a collection steeped in tradition yet unmistakably shaped by his own journey of loss, rediscovery, and artistic rebirth. This is not a record built in search of an audience; it is a record offered humbly to those willing to listen, and in doing so becomes all the more worthy of attention.

Augustine’s musical return, after a decades-long hiatus, mirrors the folk tradition’s enduring motif of renewal. Much like the revivalists of the 1960s who found in older ballads a place to set their own stories, Augustine has unearthed his voice from beneath the weight of years. The result is an album that feels both contemporary and timeless—rooted in the singer-songwriter lineage of John Prine, Bill Staines, and early Nanci Griffith, yet bearing the stamp of a man who has navigated life’s storms and returned with songs as his compass.

The album opens with “Fountain of Love,” a deceptively simple piece that reveals Augustine’s strengths immediately. With an easy, conversational vocal delivery and a melodic sensibility that hovers between modern folk and gentle Americana, the song speaks of an inner wellspring waiting to be released. The lyric “There’s a gold mine deep in my heart” carries neither bravado nor sentimentality; instead, it reads like an honest acknowledgment of the human capacity to heal. Augustine’s acoustic guitar, warm and clean, provides the steady footing the song needs to unfold.

The emotional center of the album, and likely the track destined to introduce Augustine to a wider audience, is “The Candy Wrapper.” Folk music has long thrived on extended metaphors—from Dylan’s visions to Kate Wolf’s natural landscapes—and Augustine contributes his own: the self as a wrapper discarded after one has given away their sweetness. It is the kind of idea that, in less capable hands, might feel contrived. But Augustine’s performance disarms. His steady voice delivers the narrative with a mixture of vulnerability and resolve, and his choice to keep the arrangement spare allows each word to rise clearly. Listeners of Sing Out! will recognize the folk tradition of emotional candor at work here. It is both personal diary and universal lament.

“Moon Song for Mary Ann,” with its lunar imagery and wistful chord changes, evokes the gentle storytelling of singer-songwriters like Eric Andersen or Dave Carter. Augustine’s lyrical impulse is toward narrative rather than abstraction, and here we find him tracing the contours of memory—places visited, steps retraced, moments held in the air like dust in morning light. The song’s imagery is accessible yet evocative, offering the listener room to inhabit the emotional landscape alongside him.

Another highlight, “Crystal Ball,” turns its gaze toward uncertainty, a subject the folk tradition has always handled with spiritual nuance. “Please don’t let me see forever, ‘cause I don’t want to know,” Augustine sings, articulating a fear both ancient and acutely modern. In a world obsessed with prediction, control, and endless forward-motion, his plea is refreshingly grounded. The melody lilts with a soft melancholy, reminiscent of traditional British ballads adapted through the Americana lens.

Yet Folk-IndieBob is not an album mired in sorrow. “All My Hope” rises with quiet resilience, delivering one of Augustine’s strongest melodic statements. “Life has tried to crush me with its weight / But I will grow back like a leaf,” he sings—an image that beautifully encapsulates the record’s overarching theme: regrowth through gentleness, faith, and persistence.

The remaining tracks—“Jealous of Freedom,” “I’m In Love,” and “Four Leaf Clover”—round out the album with tonal variety, offering glimpses of joy, longing, and gratitude. Each feels connected to the others through Augustine’s voice, which acts as the album’s anchor.

What distinguishes Folk-IndieBob in today’s folk landscape is its sincerity. Augustine is not chasing trends or attempting genre hybridity for its own sake. He is contributing to a living tradition—one that values story, melody, and the courage to tell the truth.

In Folk-IndieBob, Bob Augustine offers listeners a collection of songs that feel both familiar and profoundly personal. It is the kind of album that invites repeated listening, not for complexity, but for the quiet wisdom within its songs—folk music doing what folk music has always done best.

–Steven Winn

 

PIANIST ELIZABETH NACCARATO OFFERS “DEEPLY PEACEFUL AND IMMERSIVE” EXPERIENCE WITH NEW ALBUM, “SALONNIÈRES”

0

Classical artist, composer and master pianist Elizabeth Naccarato has created a veritable portal through time and space on the deeply peaceful and immersive experience offered by her new album “Salonnières”. This altogether unique release not only communicates a rare pause for our modern age where the listener can engage in ethereal beauty, it projects the mind’s eye to a different time and place altogether, allowing us to reflect and bring a gem back into the now. A subtle rapture pervades this powerful and essential work.

“Who you are, is where you’ve been”

During the Enlightenment era in France, a woman referred to as a Salonnière would host salon parties in her home. She would invite and facilitate musical artists, writers and thinkers in order to engage in stimulating and inspiring discourse. Among the pianists who played at these gatherings were Frédéric Chopin, Robert Schumann, Clara Schumann, Franz List and Claude Debussy. Chopin loved performing at these intimate gatherings, as he was less fond of large public performances. He probably perfected his improvisational skills during these events, and undoubtedly wowed the guests.
My piano composing has always been inspired by The Repertoire and the great composers.

“This collection contains some of those works, as well as my compositions that were inspired by them. The alberti bass of Mozart, the appoggiaturas and suspensions of Brahms, variations of Mozart and Chopin, improvisational runs, recitatives, and meters are some of the compositional devices that are indelibly imprinted in my mind and work. I hope that you listen to this record in an intimate space, and that it gives you serenity and inspiration. Thank you for coming and engaging.

Your salonnière,
Elizabeth

A native Texan, Elizabeth began her piano studies at the age of six at the Dominican Convent in Houston. She won her first piano competition at the age of nine, when she performed and competed in local and statewide events. At that time, her voice instructor noticed her ability for composition. She became a student of Bessie Griffiths and Ruth Burr, studying piano and theory many hours a week.

Elizabeth received her Bachelor and Master’s degrees from The University of Southern California where she studied with Daniel Pollack and John Perry. She was a three-time winner of the Hollywood Alumni S.A.I Scholarship and was awarded a highly coveted Teaching Assistantship at USC. Elizabeth has been a piano faculty member at The University of Southern California, University of Puget Sound and Adams State University.

Elizabeth performed solo Classical piano music extensively in Texas and on the West Coast, but it was when she moved to the Pacific Northwest that she began composing. Elizabeth released her first album Jarrell’s Cove in 1995, followed by North Sycamore, Stone Cottage, History, One Piano and Souvenir D’Italia & A Southwest Story in 2022.

In 2023, Elizabeth resumed her study with her beloved professor & concert pianist, Daniel Pollack.  Elizabeth Naccarato has received critical acclaim for her work internationally, as well as  awards &  nominations for her recordings. Her new release Salonnières marries her performance of classical piano repertoire with her own classically inspired compositions.