Garage/Psychedelic Pop: Whyte Horses - Pop Or Not 2016 (2016 CRC Records) Flac & mp3@320

As befitted one of the founders of the acclaimed crate-digging curios Finders Keepers label, Dom Thomas’ Whyte Horses were informed by a dizzying array of musical influences. This wide sonic palette of psychedelia, library music, acid-folk, Krautrock, Tropicália, yé-yé, and lounge was skillfully woven by "music-chronologist" Thomas into an accessible, hypnotic, dreamy psych-pop.

Whyte Horses’ first release was the single Snowfalls on the London-based label CRC in October 2014, followed by debut album Pop or Not in May 2016 (already released in a private pressing the previous year). Guesting on this brilliantly otherworldly debut was the Anglo-French vocalist Julie Margat (aka Lispector), who brought a healthy dose of Gallic cool to the proceedings. Thomas was also ably abetted on Pop or Not by the Doves’ Jez Williams, Ian Parton of the Go! Team, Belle & Sebastian’s Chris Geddes, and indie-psych maverick Jim Noir.(allmusic.com)

Very good debut by Whyte Horses with a lot of songs full of popsike candy...This is the 2016 release. Some songs are differently named as on the private 2015 release.

Enjoy
         Frank                            Flac part 1    &   Flac part 2        -  mp3@320

The Parlour Band - Is Your Friend? 1972 (2010 Esoteric by Cherry Red Records) Flac & mp3

Parlour Band's only LP is progressive rock-tinged mainstream early-'70s British album-oriented rock, competent but no more than that. Both keyboard and guitar parts take a strong role, and there's a bit of the multiple tempo changes and classical-tinged organ burble of bands like Yes in songs like "Forgotten Dreams." Some other songs steer well clear of art rock, though, "Pretty Haired Girl" coming across like prototypical early-'70s mellow California harmony rock. Even when it doesn't sound as Californian, though, the album's a pretty laid-back affair and, though it's agreeable, it's lacking in both power and first-rate songs.

"Little Goldie" sounds a good deal like the early-'70s work of Todd Rundgren in its bouncy pop optimism and relatively sophisticated keyboard-based arrangement, though it's not typical of the record. A bit, though no more than a crumb, of art rock pretension creeps into the final cut, the three-part, seven-minute mini-opus "Home."(Richie Unterberger, allmusic.com)

Pop prog !
Have  fun
                Frank                    Flac part 1  &  Flac part 2        mp3@320

Psychedelic Pop From Australia : Russell Morris - Retrospective '68-'72 1978 (2004 EMI) Flac &mp3

Russell Morris is one of Australia's most enduring singers. A major pop star in the late '60s, he went on to become one of the country's first singer/songwriters. Both ends of his career feature predominantly in the soundtrack to the movie The Dish.
Morris' career started in September 1966 with the formation of the Melbourne group Somebody's Image, which rose to prominence with a local hit version of the Joe South song "Hush." Morris was convinced to leave Somebody's Image for a solo career. His manager/producer, local music identity Ian Meldrum, spent unprecedented hours and money to create a seven-minute production extravaganza around a song called "The Real Thing." Once the result was released to shocked radio programmers who had never been asked to play such a long Australian single before, it was up to Morris' personality, singing, and performing talents to make the record work. It reached Australia's number one spot in June 1969. Without any promotional support from Morris, "The Real Thing" reached number one in Chicago, Houston, and New York.

The second single -- "Part Three Into Paper Walls" ("The Real Thing" revisited) and "The Girl That I Love" (a pop ballad more indicative of what was to come) -- became a double-sided number one hit, the first time an Australian artist had scored consecutive number ones with their first two singles. Morris, in the meantime, had traveled to the U.K. to help promote the release of "The Real Thing."
Morris had now decided to concentrate on his own songwriting and with the cream of Australian musicians, spent almost a year painstakingly recording and re-recording what became the Bloodstone album. It was one of the first Australian albums of its kind, the first from an Australian singer/songwriter, and a whole world away from the extravagant "The Real Thing." The hit single from Bloodstone was the resonant, romantic "Sweet Sweet Love." The following year, in 1972, Morris delivered the equally beautiful "Wings of an Eagle."
In 1973, Morris moved to London to record an album only to discover there was no record contract waiting for him. He relocated to New York and set to work on an album there, including new versions of both "Sweet Sweet Love" and "Wings of an Eagle" and the single "Let's Do It." A second American album appeared in 1976. It was two more years before Morris was granted his green card, enabling him to tour America. But by then, any chance of an American career had bolted. Instead, Morris returned to a very different Australia than the one he had left behind five years earlier.
During his solo career, Morris had done limited live performances without a band of his own. He then formed the Russell Morris Band and threw himself into a busy round of live performances, writing songs designed to be played live rather than chasing radio airplay, but scoring a couple of minor hits on the way. Eventually, the band played and recorded as Russell Morris & the Rubes.

In 1991, Morris released another solo album, A Thousand Suns, and he spent the subsequent years as part of a highly successful performing trio with fellow '60s heroes Ronnie Burns and Darryl Cotton of the Zoot, with a repertoire made up of their individual hits from yesterday, as well as new songs. In 2001, Jim Keays of the Masters Apprentices replaced Burns. Also in 2001, Morris' "The Real Thing" and "Wings of an Eagle" featured prominently in the Australian-made movie The Dish (centered around man's landing on the moon) and Midnight Oil released their version of "The Real Thing" as a one-off single, the first time this highly regarded band had chosen to record a cover.(allmusic.com)

This is a very fine collection of works by Russell Morris who was already in the sixties a star in Australia. This are truly fine psychedelic pop songs and i think you should give it a try.

Have fun
               Frank        Flac part 1  &  Flac part 2           mp3@320

At Request: Jerry Lee Lewis - Jerry Lee Lewis Live At The Star Club Hamburg 1964 (1989 Bear Family Records) Flac & mp3@320

Is there an early rock & roller who has a crazier reputation than the Killer, Jerry Lee Lewis? His exploits as a piano-thumping, egocentric wild man with an unquenchable thirst for living have become the fodder for numerous biographies, film documentaries, and a full-length Hollywood movie. Certainly few other artists came to the party with more ego and talent than he and lived to tell the tale. And certainly even fewer could successfully channel that energy into their music and prosper doing it as well as Jerry Lee. When he broke on the national scene in 1957 with his classic "Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On," he was every parents' worst nightmare perfectly realized: a long, blonde-haired Southerner who played the piano and sang with uncontrolled fury and abandon, while simultaneously reveling in his own sexuality.

He was rock & roll's first great wild man and also rock & roll's first great eclectic. Ignoring all manner of musical boundaries is something that has not only allowed his music to have wide variety, but to survive the fads and fashions as well. Whether singing a melancholy country ballad, a lowdown blues, or a blazing rocker, Lewis' wholesale commitment to the moment brings forth performances that are totally grounded in his personality and all singularly of one piece. Like the recordings of Hank Williams, Louis Armstrong, and few others, Jerry Lee's early recorded work is one of the most amazing collections of American music in existence.
He was born to Elmo and Mamie Lewis on September 29, 1935. Though the family was dirt poor, there was enough money to be had to purchase a third-hand upright piano for the family's country shack in Ferriday, LA. Sharing piano lessons with his two cousins, Mickey Gilley and Jimmy Lee Swaggart, a ten-year old Jerry Lee Lewis showed remarkable aptitude toward the instrument. A visit from piano-playing older cousin Carl McVoy unlocked the secrets to the boogie-woogie styles he was hearing on the radio and across the tracks at Haney's Big House, owned by his uncle, Lee Calhoun, and catering to blacks exclusively.

Lewis mixed that up with gospel and country and started coming up with his own style. He even mixed genres in the way he syncopated his rhythms on the piano; his left hand generally played a rock-solid boogie pattern while his right played the high keys with much flamboyant filigree and showiness, equal parts gospel fervor and Liberace showmanship. By the time he was 14, by all family accounts, he was as good as he was ever going to get. Lewis was already ready for prime time.
But his mother Mamie had other plans for the young family prodigy. Not wanting to squander Jerry Lee's gifts on the sordid world of show business, she enrolled him in a bible college in Waxahatchie, TX, secure in the knowledge that her son would now be exclusively singing his songs to the Lord. But legend has it that the Killer tore into a boogie-woogie rendition of "My God Is Real" at a church assembly that sent him packing the same night. The split personality of Lewis, torn between the sacred and the profane (rock & roll music), is something that has eaten away at him most of his adult life, causing untold aberrant personality changes over the years with no clear-cut answers to the problem. What is certain is that by the time a 21-year-old Jerry Lee showed up in Memphis on the doorstep of the Sun studios, he had been thrown out of bible college; been a complete failure as a sewing-machine salesman; been turned down by most Nashville-based record companies and the Louisiana Hayride; been married twice; in jail once; and burned with the passion that he truly was the next big thing.

Sam Phillips was on vacation when he arrived, but his assistant Jack Clement put Roland Janes on guitar and J.M. Van Eaton on drums behind Lewis, whose fluid left hand made a bass player superfluous. This little unit would become the core of Lewis' recording band for almost the entire seven years he recorded at Sun. The first single, a hopped-up rendition of Ralph Mooney's "Crazy Arms," sold in respectable enough quantities that Phillips kept bringing Lewis back in for more sessions, astounded by his prodigious memory for old songs and his penchant for rocking them up. A few days after his first single was released, Jerry Lee was in the Sun studios earning some Christmas money, playing backup piano on a Carl Perkins session that yielded the classics "Matchbox" and "Your True Love." At the tail-end of the recording, Elvis Presley showed up, Clement turned on the tape machine, and the impromptu Million Dollar Quartet jam session ensued, with Perkins, Presley, and Lewis all having the time of their lives.
With the release of his first single, the road beckoned and it was here that Lewis' lasting stage persona was developed. Discouraged because he couldn't dance around the stage strumming a guitar like Carl Perkins, he stood up in mid-song, kicked back the piano stool and, as Perkins has so saliently pointed out, "a new Jerry Lee Lewis was born." This newfound stage confidence was not lost on Sam Phillips. While he loved the music of Carl Perkins and Johnny Cash, he saw neither artist as a true contender to Elvis' throne; with Lewis he thought he had a real shot. For the first time in his very parsimonious life, Sam Phillips threw every dime of promotional capital he had into Lewis' next single, and the gamble paid off a million times over. "Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On" went to number one on the country and the R&B charts, and was only held out of the top spot on the pop charts by Debbie Reynolds' "Tammy."

Suddenly, Lewis was the hottest, newest, most exciting rock & roller out there. His television appearances and stage shows were legendary for their manic energy, and his competitive nature to outdo anyone else on the bill led to the story about how he once set his piano on fire at set's end to make it impossible for Chuck Berry to follow his act. Nobody messed with the Killer.
Jerry Lee's follow-up to "Shakin'" was another defining moment for his career, as well as for rock & roll. "Great Balls of Fire" featured only piano and drums, but sounded huge with Phillips' production behind it. It got him into a rock & roll movie (Jamboree) and his fame was spreading to such a degree that Johnny Cash and Carl Perkins left Sun to go to Columbia Records. His next single, "Breathless," had a promotional tie-in with Dick Clark's Saturday night Bandstand show, making it three hits in a row for the newcomer.
But Lewis was sowing the seeds of his own destruction in record time. He sneaked off and married his 13-year-old cousin, Myra Gale Brown, the daughter of his bass-playing uncle, J.W. Brown. With the Killer insisting that she accompany him on a debut tour of England, the British press got wind of the marriage and proceeded to crucify him in the press. The tour was canceled and Lewis arrived back in the U.S. to find his career in absolute disarray. His records were banned nationwide by radio stations and his booking price went from $10,000 a night to $250 in any honky tonk that would still have him. Undeterred, he kept right on doing what he had been doing, head unbowed and determined to make it back to the bigs, Jerry Lee Lewis style. It took him almost a dozen years to pull it off, but finally, with a sympathetic producer and a new record company willing to exact a truce with country disc jockeys, the Killer found a new groove, cutting one hit after another for Smash Records throughout the late '60s and into the '70s.

Still playing rock & roll on-stage whenever the mood struck him (which was often), while keeping all his releases pure country, Lewis struck a creative bargain that suited him well into the mid-'70s.
But while his career was soaring again, his personal life was falling apart. The next decade-and-a-half saw several marriages fall apart (starting with his 13-year-long union with Myra), the deaths of his parents and oldest son, battles with the I.R.S., and bouts with alcohol and pills that frequently left him hospitalized. Suddenly, the Ferriday Fireball was nearing middle age and the raging fire seemed to be burned out.

But the mid-'80s saw another jump start to his career. A movie entitled Great Balls of Fire was about to be made of his life and Lewis was called in to sing the songs for the soundtrack. Showing everyone who the real Killer was, Lewis sounded energetic enough to make you believe it was 1957 all over again with the pilot light of inspiration still burning bright. He also got a boost back to major-label land with a one-song appearance on the soundtrack for Dick Tracy. In 2006, Lewis released Last Man Standing, which featured duets with Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Willie Nelson, Rod Stewart, Jimmy Page, and others. He followed it up in 2010 with another album of duets, Mean Old Man, which saw him teaming with Eric Clapton, Merle Haggard, John Fogerty, and Kid Rock, among others. Four years later came Rock & Roll Time, another record co-produced by Steve Bing and Jim Keltner; it also had superstar cameos but generally they were musical, not vocal. Released alongside the album was Jerry Lee Lewis: His Own Story, an as-told-to autobiography written by Rick Bragg. With box sets and compilations, documentaries, a bio flick, a memoir, and his induction to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame all celebrating his legacy, Lewis continued to record and tour, delivering work that vacillated from tepid to absolutely inspired. While his influence will continue to loom large until there's no one left to play rock & roll piano anymore, the plain truth is that there's only one Jerry Lee Lewis, and American music will never see another like him. (allmusic)

The marriage with his 13 year old cousine was too much for the middle class morality of that time then and it stopped the career of the rock'n'roll animal. I ask myself on the other side how it was actually possible that he could marriage a 13 year young child? What kind of judicial authority made that possible? However, to me this man is a rock'n'roll legend. The concerts in Hamburg happened one year after he gets a new recording deal with ''Smash''. The recordings here sounds truly great and it's a fantastic happening of rock'n'roll. Hope you like it.

Have fun
                Frank     Flac part1  &  Flac part2          mp3@320

More by Mickey Newbury! Mickey Newbury - Nights When I Am Sane (1994 Winter Harvest) Flac & mp3@320

Released by the tiny Nashville label Winter Harvest, Nights When I Am Sane was Newbury's first album in six years and his first live album since Live at Montezuma Hall 20 years earlier. Those decades may have deepened Newbury the singer's voice a bit, but it only made him a more powerful performer. As one would expect, Nights When I Am Sane is comprised of a batch of Newbury's most well-known songs, but the power these performances hold make them the definitive versions. With one guitar or at most one accompanist, Newbury has always been able to convey what most others would need an entire band to try to get to. Songs like "Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In)" (bet you didn't know he wrote that, did ya?) come across with so much feeling, pathos, and depth that it's possible to see clear into the darkness in the soul of the man when he wrote it. When Newbury gets to his famous refrain on "Nights When I Am Sane," he's telling a hidden truth, one so obscured by legend and the grime of time and music-business bullsh*t that it almost slips though in its gentleness. "We would sweat and moan/Until the need in us was gone/In one another's arms all through the night," begins "What Will I Do Now," the track that ends this set. A song of a lover left to bear his grief in the darkness now that she's gone, Newbury's falsetto conveys the grief with so much empathy, it's hard to believe this isn't some man crying on his best friend's shoulder. Only Newbury would have the naked, unpretentious honesty to end a concert with a song like this, and only he could get away with it.

I know some of you might think why a singer/songwriter on this blog. It's easy to answer: I like Newbury and that's reason enough to me to make an ''exception''. And this guy is just great. Maybe you give it a try and take a listen to this very fine performance.

Frank                                    Flac part 1  &  Flac part 2      -  mp3@320