Album: David Axelrod

David Axelrod, Mo' Wa

Friday 13 July 2001 00:00 BST
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

The rehabilitation of jazz-rock production auteur David Axelrod continues apace with eponymous offering, on which seven pieces based on old rhythm tracks recorded in 1968 (ostensibly for a proposed Electric Prunes concept-album based on Goethe's Faust – what a shame that never saw the light of day, eh?!) are bookended by two newly recorded songs in the same style. Featuring as they do Axelrod's standard West Coast session crew of drummer Earl Palmer, bassist Carol Kaye, guitarist Howard Roberts and pianist Don Randi behind shadowy strings and jazz horns, the seven older tracks have, at their best, something of the dark, forbidding air of early Frank Zappa arrangements, particularly when the late Howard Roberts's discordant guitar starts snaking around behind the orchestra on "The Dr & The Diamond", or Oscar Brashear's trumpet solo rises out of the giddy vortex of reeds and strings on "Big B Plus". The newer tracks suggest "the Axe" has lost none of his liberal, questing spirit: "The Little Children" features the same turbulent climate of burring saxes and sawing strings joined by chilly operatic chorale behind rapper Ras Kass's account of good and evil forces vying for the souls of children – "The great city streets they'll fill/And they'll grow too old to pity/Just right for the cops to kill" – while "Loved Boy" finds his old friend Lou Rawls eulogising Axelrod's dead son over a low tremor of euphonium and stark tears of piccolo trumpet, played with the raggedy mournful manner of a New Orleans funeral band.

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in