Take Five: Seeking sounds of solace
Music was a balm to sooth after another tough week in the world, with Cecil Alexander, John Wesley Harding, the Byrds, Susan Alcorn, and Art Pepper calling the tune
“Take Five” is posted each Friday, and offers five things I spent some time with over the course of the previous week. No criticism, no in-depth analysis, just a few things I think you might be interested in checking out. When the spirit moves me, I’ll post other things at other times.
1. Cecil Alexander — ‘Full Court Press’
I’m picking up where I left off with my last post, a review of the stellar performance by Chief Xian aTunde Adjuah last weekend at Hancher. I made note of his sidemen, but wanted to say more about guitarist Cecil Alexander, whose playing was controlled chaos for much of the set, his fleet-fingered dexterity fitting well with the percussive rhythm section to offer a counter point to Adjuah’s clear, piercing trumpet tone. Adjuah mentioned that Alexander had a new single out that week, and so I eagerly checked it out. It could not have been less like what I heard last week. “Full Court Press” is a brief, beautifully contemplative song, nearly ambient in comparison with Adjuah’s music. A previous single, “midwest, midwest,” is in a similar vein, and both have me hoping there is a complete album of these sounds somewhere on the horizon.
2. John Wesley Harding — 'Thoughts and Prayers'
Despite attempts to contain it, I suppose it was inevitable that politics would rear its head here. With the country's norms and institutions crumbling all around us, it feels beyond time for artists to address the issues (or for any of us, really). Enter Wesley Stace, (or in this case, a reversion back to his original performing name John Wesley Harding), who offers a soulful song of protest in "Thoughts and Prayers." Though this isn't in response to anything that has taken place since Jan. 20, it does feel timely. Stace is among the most literate songwriters working today, though his lyrics are usually more witty. But there isn't much cause for cheer when tackling the issue of preventable violence and the right's blind eye to it all.
You don't want it all politicized
You'd rather double down than compromise
Perhaps it's time to make a dime off all the merchandise
3. The Byrds: 1964-1967
This is why I save things: An Aquarium Drunkard piece from a couple years back about then-new music books finally led me to a fascinating look at the Byrds (thanks to interlibrary loan!). The Byrds: 1964-1967 is a massive photo book assembled by Roger McGuinn, David Crosby, and Chris Hillman. I picked it up mostly to see Gene Clark, my favorite Byrd (and the one who quit, ironically, because he didn't want to fly), but sped through the entire thing eager to see and learn more about the progression of this underrated band. I came away with my view confirmed that Crosby was a petulant jerk and a renewed appreciation for Hillman's diplomacy. Each of the three (Crosby before he died in 2023) contributes captions to the photos. When Hillman and McGuinn could no longer put up with Crosby, then went to his house to tell him he was out. "I think he was surprised," Hillman writes. "He'd been pushing and pushing and pushing, and suddenly it came back on him." If only that was how it always worked. Being in the band certainly took its toll on Crosby if the two photos below, taken just three years apart, are any indication. Meanwhile, Hillman was emerging as a strong songwriter, happy for the extra space. Though it comes from the last album with Crosby in the band, Younger Than Yesterday, I've always loved Hillman’s "Have You Seen Her Face?" and listened to it quite a few times while making my way through this.
4. Susan Alcorn — 'Pedernal'
I somehow remained unaware of pedal steel guitarist Susan Alcorn until very recently, first hearing her on her 2020 album, Pedernal. I love the pedal steel, particularly when artists use it in unexpected ways. Alcorn's entire career was built on those divergent paths. While most use the pedal steel to color country songs, it has been used increasingly in ambient, jazz, and more classical contexts. Pedernal likely hit my radar because of Alcorn's bandmates, including guitarist Mary Halvorsen and bassist Michael Formanek. I have many albums that feature both, so I'm sure their names caught my eye. I've since spent more time with Alcorn's catalog, and marvel at the ways she used the instrument. Alcorn died last week, and the tributes popping up have shown that I was behind the curve here, but happy to catch up.
5. Art Pepper — ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’
Saxophonist Art Pepper died in 1982, but as with most jazz musicians who were recorded constantly in the studio and in performance, his output didn't stop at that point. These posthumous releases are often haphazard, issued whenever someone gets access to a tape regardless of rights. That isn't true of Pepper. Since 2006, his wife, Laurie, has released his music through her own Widow's Taste label, carefully curating recordings while also making his music more widely available. That means live sessions released as albums -- usually download-only through sites like Bandcamp -- and one-off tracks offered for free as she works to keep Pepper's music in front of listeners. Such is the case with the above track, a live performance of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" from 1981. It is, Laurie writes, "Music—for what ails you. The first FREEBIE of 2025." Indeed, in dark times, it helps to hear Pepper, George Cables, David Williams and Carl Burnett offer a ray of hope in the form of this standard given a moody, questing rendition. Get it for free during February1.