Carousel corner. (The Music).

Finally the crush of technology and progress has painted this column into the perennial corner, carousel changer and all. While we've focused on recorded music intended for playback on your hi-fi -- i.e., your listening rig -- there are just too many good new music, mostly concert, DVDs out and about these days to let pass. So, starting this issue we're formally including a separate section on music and concert DVDs. As for DVD-A and SACD, well, HF seems to enjoy the format wars, and we can't afford all the stuff you need to do justice to either format. And even if we could afford a DVD-A/SACD player, the 5.1, 6.1, or 7.1 receiver/separates necessary to play them, and a blizzard of better-than-for-movies surround sound speakers, we haven't got anywhere to put it all. But when we can and do ... heh, heh, heh.

CDs. Old farts, young bucks, painted sirens, pickers and grinners ... we've got 'em all.

Mick Jagger, Goddess in the Doorway (Virgin)

Lord knows I love the Stones -- at least collectively. And the Mick and Keith Show has endured as one of the highest quality songwriting partnerships, not to mention soap operas, for over three decades. So what is wrong with this record besides nothing and everything? The musicians are, as one would expect, the cream of vintage crops: Pete Townshend, Joe Perry, Bono, Rob Thomas, Lenny Kravitz, Kenny Aronoff, Jim Keltner, Lenny Castro, Wyclef Jean, Matt Clifford, and more. The songs are well considered, passingly thoughtful, and a bit on the confessional side -- even if dashing off to Argentina to "see my girlfriend and ... have a blast for a while" doesn't really count. And with the exception of "Hide Away," they sound pretty much like the bland, faceless concert rock that acts like Bryan Adams, Survivor, or Air Supply offered in the '80s. Maybe it's producer Jack Joseph Puig's (Fabulon) insistence on strings. Maybe it's that Jagger's alter egos are mostly old and broken. Maybe it's that nothing and everything doesn't seem to fit. But in the end, there's not much to recommend Goddess in the Doorway.

Paul McCartney, Driving Rain (Capitol)

One can posit without very much fear of argument that Sir Paul's 30 years' worth of post-Beatles output has been drenched in too much cloying sweetness, too much satisfaction, too much mushy sentimentality -- and too little strife and struggle, the stuff of which the best art is crafted ... too little rock`n'roll. Even the devastating and untimely death of his wife of 30 years only pushed him into a cocoon, maintaining a stiff, veddy British public facade. One waited for him to melt with anger and rage, scream to the heavens of life's unfairness, and summon all hellfire to forge paeans of pain and mortality. 'Twas not to be. Yet unexpectedly the introduction of another love into his life, and all the doubts that trail along like so many unwanted gnomes ("Don't want to get hurt second time around/Don't want to walk that lonely road again" -- "Lonely Road"), has brought rafts of sublimated conflict and the darker corners of living to the surface and McCartney's songwriting.

For Driving Rain, McCartney's pared down to a basic rock band with Sir Paul himself manning his Hofner bass with Rusty Anderson (guitars), Abe Laboriel (drums), Gabe Dixon (keys), and David Kahne (synth and guitar). And while the bulk of the songs are, well, silly love songs, their time, place, and arranging carry with them an edge, one that's been largely absent. Perhaps the best example of this is "Tiny Bubble" which starts with a very funky R&B vamp before morphing into a pleasant, inoffensive melody. Yet the sentiment reveals his conflict as he reluctantly bids farewell to one love and embraces another: "You can't imagine just what I've been going through/I wouldn't wish it on a soul much less on you".

All in all, Driving Rain with its blushing hesitancy harkens back to his first solo efforts, McCartney and Ram, both of which celebrated, like Driving Rain, newly found love. Sir Paul will turn 60 this year, an age when one would expect him to hit the oldies trail. But like Dylan and Jagger, he insists on making original music. And while Driving Rain isn't the kind of summary statement like Dylan's "Love and Theft," neither is it the blandness of Jagger's Goddess in the Doorway. We demand a lot, perhaps too much, from former Beatles. McCartney's kept his counsel and resolutely stayed his own path. It's enough that he's still a formidable creative force.

No Doubt, Rock Steady (Interscope)

The great thing about No Doubt is that one never expects anything from their albums except good time party rock, and Rock Steady does not disappoint. Rock Steady starts with "Hella Good" and the predictable hook line "You got me feeling hella good/So let's just keep on dancing." The rest is just as predictable, feeding teen angst ("Hey Baby"), puppy love ("Making Out"), puppy love angst ("In My Head"), and inevitably what it's like to be a gurl singer in a rock band ("Platinum Blond Life"). But No Doubt delivers all this fluff with surging, pulsating, driving rock`n'roll. Rock Steady is purportedly a return to their Orange County ska punk roots. Well, only a couple of numbers, "Underneath It All" and "In My Head," are bona fide rock steady, but that's not important. This is a group that has transformed Gwen Stefani from a shy, mawkish appendage into a bombshell lead singer and transformed itself into a powerhouse band. Ignore the lyrics. Enjoy the ride.

Garbage, beautifulgarbage (Interscope)

Shirley Manson is the thinking man's Gwen Stefani. Producer turned rock star Butch Vig (Nevermind, Smashing Pumpkins) with fellow producers Duke Erikson and Steve Marker turned from Nirvana's and the Pumpkins' dirty sound to techno-pop. Add threatening pop diva Manson to the mix, and Garbage was, er, born. Garbage's eponymous 1995 debut and 1998 follow-up, Version 2.0, honed a studio sound, a producer's wet dream of layered guitars, synthesizers, drum machines, and assorted electronica around Manson's knife-edged, sneering delivery. Through the wall of sound attack emerged a melodic lyricism, making Garbage's sound eminently listenable, beautifulgarbage folds rap-style pattering into a blitzkrieg of guitars and encases the package in more traditional song structures. From the seething sexuality of "Androgyny" to the power ballad "Can't Cry These Tears Anymore" ("... it's time to settle the score") to the masochistic love of "Til the Day I Die," beautifulgarbage screams and writhes with sensuous vitality. It ain't pretty, but it's incredible rock'n'roll.

North Mississippi Allstars, 51 Phantom (Tone-Cool/Artemis)

Unlike its more famed and parallel brother U.S. Highway 61, which meanders along the Mississippi River and flirts with the Louisiana state line at Natchez and Vicksburg, U.S. Highway 51 -- the phantom -- knifes through heart of Mississippi. Highway 51 also traverses the midsection of Mississippi's northern hill country, an area politely skirted by Highway 61. Ironically, the southern terminus for both is New Orleans ... and they finally meet up again in Memphis, two metropolises which define the myriad paths that the blues, gospel, and jazz took as they begat soul and elemental rock'n'roll.

51 Phantom, while still leaning heavily on the raw hill country blues that grew up around Holly Springs, stretches the band toward a more urban stylization, underpinned by the absorption of a host of vintage rock practitioners. The title cut, a straight ahead blues, celebrates country blacktop where "white lightning flashes across the blue Mississippi sky ..." "Snakes in My Bushes," a DT-induced nightmare -- presumably after too much white lightning, and "Sugartown" pay homage to raw versions of Cream and Hendrix, respectively. Junior Kimbrough's "Lord Have Mercy" is suddenly transformed into southern rock as guitarist Luther Dickinson rips off an Allman/Betts-influenced coda, the kind of blues, such as "Trouble No More," that the Allmans made their own. The Allstars have crafted another exceptional album full of fearsome blues and unexpected thrill rides through other genres. Want proof? Dig their rendition of Pops Staples' "Freedom Highway."

Steve Riley and the Mamou Playboys, Happytown (Rounder)

The Playboys are one of KWN's favorite bands. I picked up their latest on his recommendation and after watching them blister a live set on PBS's American Roots Music. Their version of Cajun stomp music was spawned, like Sonny Landreth's, in the west Mississippi River delta country, the bayous and farms that stretch through Lafayette on to Lake Charles and Beaumont. The Playboys have absorbed influences from near and far, but seem to bring them back into their ever more complex musical forms. Happytown bears happy witness to this. It leads with a traditional instrumental, "Creole Stomp," and segues into a waltz ("Big Boy Waltz"), a brooding slave poem, "Gros Jean," dating from the Civil War era, and Riley's original "Seems to Me," a rock'n'roller. Fiddler David Greely's "Les vigilants' owes as much to Acadian folk music as Riley and Greely do country dances on "La crave de faim" ("Starvation 2-Step"). Throughout guitarist Roddie Romero alternates between straight finger style and slide guitar -- a Landreth in waiting. The rhythm section of Kyle Hebert (bass) and Kevin Dugas (drums) meets the shifting tempo and genre challenges with envious dexterity. Happytown is alternately danceable and studied, but it never loses interest.

Joe Strummer & The Mescaleros, Global A Go-Go (Hellcat Records)

One might have posited that after the demise of The Clash, Mick Jones, who pushed the band away from punk thrash and toward the melodic sense that dominated both London Calling and Sandanista!, would have the more successful post-Clash career. Indeed, his first band, Big Audio Dynamite, enjoyed a string of noteworthy albums and a devoted club following. The bumptious, acerbic Joe Strummer would be hard pressed to pursue his thrash und drang without sidemen, including Paul Simenon and Topper Headon, of similar capabilities. And Strummer did flounder for quite a while. With The Mescaleros and a focus on world music, Strummer, the once and future Hell raiser, seems to have found his metier.

Global A Go-Go continues where Rock Art and the X-Ray Style (No. 84) left off, but the mood is more subdued, more melodic despite Strummer's epochal struggle to find more than one vocal octave. His blend of Latin, Middle Eastern, African, and south Asian influences produces a texturally dense soundscape, while the lyrics careen globally, invoking a wonderfully impenetrable, Joycean sense of connection: it's not so much their meaning as their sound. The band (Pablo Cook, Richard Flack, Martin Slattery, and Scott Shields) provides a solicitous depth to Strummer's compositions, and on this disc he's reunited with busking mate, Tymon Dogg. I find Global A Go-Go a great deal more listener-friendly than Rock Art. I don't pretend to have the slightest understanding of what Strummer's howling about, but the sound is glorious and ultimately gripping.

Meisner, Swan & Rich (Varese Saraband)

The opening cut on Meisner, Swan & Rich, "Pretty Baby," transports one back to the same feeling of arrest and astonishment that greeted "Suite, Judy Blue Eyes" on Crosby, Stills and Nash lo these many years ago. The vocal arrangements are just as smooth, silky, and sublime. Randy Meisner (Poco, Eagles), Billy Swan ("I Can Help"), and Charlie Rich, Jr. have lovingly crafted a quiet not-quite-pop, not-quite-country album whose whole is at least equal to the sum of its parts. And while none of the tunes break any novel ground, they are at least reminiscent of the early pop and Nashville sensibilities of their players. And of course each is an accomplished musician: Meisner (bass), Swan (rhythm guitar), and Rich (piano) are offset by The Range's John Molo on drums and the versatile Vern Monnett on lead and pedal steel guitars. All in all, Meisner, Swan & Rich is a gently satisfying effort.

Big Mon, The Songs of Bill Monroe (Skaggs Family Records)

For all that bluegrass, indeed traditional country music, owes Bill Monroe, he was a prickly sort. After "inventing" bluegrass -- IMHO, updating and standardizing an age old Appalachian Scots/Irish folk tradition -- he dominated WSM's "Grand Ole Opry," becoming, along with Roy Acuff and Fred Rose, the arbiter of the politically correct and incorrect in bluegrass and eventually all of country music. In his dotage, a nod meant a recording contract and its lack continuing struggle on the chitlin' circuit, and he was known to deflate many a young player for "turning my music into shit." Love of progress was not one of Mr. Monroe's endearing traits. In the end, however, there is no denying that everything bluegrass, country, and Nashville has grown up under his immense, looming shadow.

None of this is lost on born again bluegrass maven Ricky Skaggs, who learned at Mr. Monroe's knee. Skaggs on mandolin has assembled a crack band, including Stuart Duncan (fiddle), Jim Mills (banjo), Clay Hess (guitar), Mark Fain (string bass), and invited various pop and country luminaries to recreate some of Monroe's most enduring songs. Guests include Bruce Hornsby, Mary Chapin Carpenter, The Whites, Patty Loveless, Joan Osborne, Dolly Parton, The Dixie Chicks, Dwight Yoakum, and more. While most of the numbers stick to the traditional, percussionless bluegrass form, John Fogerty's version of "Blue Moon of Kentucky," a relentlessly energetic rocker, provides evidence of how short the leap was from bluegrass to modern country music. The Clan Munro's motto is "Dread God" -- ironic punctuation to Monroe's influence both then and now.

The Whites, A Lifetime in the Making (Ceili Music)

Buck White has been playing bluegrass over 50 years -- indeed, with wife Pat the Down Home Folks were staples of the post-war bluegrass circuit. Buck and daughters Sharon and Cheryl have continued the family tradition for the past 30 years, charting numerous Top 20 singles in the 1980s. A Lifetime in the Making is a pleasant mix of newer and older songs. The vein is overwhelmingly hill country bluegrass, but The Whites throw in the occasional ballad ("I Miss Who I Was"), gospel send-up ("Key to the Kingdom"), and a Western swing barn raiser ("Texas to a T") for good measure. Producer Jerry Douglas has enlisted the likes of Aubrey Haynie (fiddle), Bryan Sutton (guitar), and a touching guest vocal from Emmy Lou Harris -- the White sisters sang on Harris' Blue Kentucky Girl. A Lifetime in the Making feels long overdue, and, like that sagging, worn parlor sofa, beckons with a familiar, comfy fit.

Alison Krauss + Union Station, New Favorite (Rounder)

With every passing album, it becomes more and more apparent that there are two bands on every AKUS recording: the one that records with Alison Krauss's vocals and a bluegrass band with Alison Krauss on fiddle. New Favorite simply reinforces that notion. Union Station with Dan Tyminski (guitar), Jerry Douglas (dobro), Barry Bales (bass), and Ron Block (banjo) is as tight an acoustic band there is. It's backing on Krauss's "Let Me Touch You for a While," "The Lucky One," and others is as sympathetic and supportive as it cooks on traditional numbers like "The Boy Who Couldn't Hoe Corn" or "Bright Sunny South" or originals such as Douglas's "Choctaw Hayride." And when Krauss's vocals don't take center stage, her violas and fiddles blend effortlessly, all hallmarks of a band whose oeuvre is at peace with its duality. New Favorite picks up where 1997's So Long, So Wrong left off. Krauss's ballads are delicately rendered while Union Station's numbers deftly merge their flash and sophistication with just enough unpaved road dust and too hot sun to validate their authenticity. There is no drop dead tune such as So Long, So Wrong's "Find My Way Back to My Heart," and Krauss's vocals, for all their seductive richness, could still stand some fire and passion. New Favorite is nonetheless an exceptional body of work, one not to be missed.

John Fogerty, The Blue Ridge Rangers (Fantasy)

Fogerty, fast upon the dissolution of Creedence Clearwater Revival, recorded The Blue Ridge Rangers, his roots/tribute album, in 1973 long before roots albums became all the rage. With the exception of the occasional background vocal, Fogerty created every sound on the album, demonstrating at once his versatility and limitations as a musician -- the drums are uniformly pedestrian. What's amazing is how well it has worn. Like Creedence's seminal output, there is a timelessness to the Rangers songs. Part of this is attributable to classic country songs such as Hank Williams's "Jambalaya," Jimmie Rogers's "California Blues," and Buck Owens and Merle Haggard's "Today I Started Loving Again." But in larger measure, Fogerty's love of country, gospel, and bluegrass forms, obvious influences on his Creedence songwriting, and the "high lonesome sound" raises The Blue Ridge Rangers a cut above the obligatory bows to its forebears.

Music DVDs. I ran into an old friend at a small party last Christmas. She'd brought along her two teenaged nieces and complained, "I played Joe Jackson on the way over -- they don't even know who Joe Jackson is!" Sez I to the nieces, "Get over it ..."

Talking Heads, Stop Making Sense (Palm Pictures).

Jonathan Demme's (Silence of the Lambs, Philadelphia) quasi-legendary 1984 concert movie showcases the funkiest white soul band ever at its peak. The Heads (David Byrne, Chris Franz, Tina Weymouth, and Jerry Harrison) are augmented by Bernie Worrell (keyboards), Alex Weir (guitar), Steve Scales (percussion), and Lynn Mabry and Ednah Holt (backing vocals). From Byrne's solo acoustic "Psycho Killer" to the scorching "Burning Down the House" to the sublime "Take Me to the River," the Heads rave up, get down, and commit the kind of sonic mayhem ordinarily reserved for the likes of James Brown, Earth, Wind and Fire, or the Ohio Players. The LP and CD have been around for a long time, but each contains only half of the concert's numbers. And neither can prepare you for the band's savage, unrelenting, bootie-shaking attack.

The DVD transfer is excellent. It contains two extra songs ("Cities" and "Big Business"/"I Zimbra"), commentary from the director and band members, a comparison of the final film to David Byrne's original storyboard, and a slew of digital audio options. There are only a handful of concert videos that one would consider essential--Stop Making Sense is one of them.

Joe Jackson, Live in Tokyo (A&M).

Filmed and recorded in 1986, the DVD features the later Big World tour band with Tom Teeley on guitar, Rick Ford on bass, and the mountainous Gary Burke on drums. Jackson omitted any songs from Big World on his definitive concert collection, Live 1980/86, because the album was relatively new and was recorded live anyhow. Live in Tokyo includes a number of them ("Wild West," "Big World," "Hometown," "Shanghai Sky," and others), and their rendition by a "different" band (Teeley replaced Vinnie Zummo midway through the tour) in a looser, freer setting makes an interesting comparison to the original numbers. The full two-hour concert and the recorded audio are uniformly excellent. The DVD transfer however is poor: the entire stage appears filtered through a brand of digital oatmeal. The music and energy are thankfully enough to overcome the video's lack of quality.

Joe Jackson, Steppin' Out, The Videos (A&M).

This DVD is a patchwork of run-of-the-mill rock videos and live recordings. I can take or leave the rock videos (OD'd on MTV too long ago ...), but the concert videos are interesting. Two, "Right and Wrong" and "Hometown," appear to be from the original Big World live recording sessions. The a cappella version of "Is She Really Going Out with Him?" from the Night and Day tour features the same band and venue as the number on Live 1980/86, but is a markedly different take. "Jumpin' Jive" is the Jumpin' Jive 1981 tour band, offering again a fascinating variation on the Live 1980/86 cut which is from the Big World tour. There is one overlap with the Live In Tokyo DVD, "You Can't Get What You Want". This DVD is not only for hard core Joe Jackson fans, tho' they're likely to get the most mileage out of it.

The List. Best songs ever with numbers in the titles ...

"Quarter to Three," Gary "U.S." Bonds

"Sweet Little Sixteen," Chuck Berry

"Positively 4th Street," Bob Dylan

"409," The Beachboys

"Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out," Bruce Springsteen

"Jenny, Jenny (867-5309)," Tommy Tutone

"1999," Prince

"Beechwood 4-5789," The Marvelettes

"1-2-3," Len Barry

"25 or 6 to 4," Chicago

"Cloud Nine," The Temptations

"Revolution No. 9," The Beatles

"One After 909," The Beatles

"Eight Days a Week," The Beatles

"Rainy Day Woman #12 and 35," Bob Dylan

"You're Sixteen," Johnny Burnette

"Twelve Thirty (Young Girls Are Coming to the Canyon)," The Mamas and The Papas

"Six O'Clock," Lovin' Spoonful

"CTA 102," The Byrds

"7th Son," Johnny Rivers

"Love Potion No. 9," The Clovers (tho' I prefer The Searchers' version ...)

"59th St. Bridge Song," Simon and Garfunkel [I've gotta add "3/5 of a Mile in 10 Seconds" by Jefferson Airplane, "At Seven teen" by Janis Ian, "Four Aces" by The Texas Tornados, "Hey Nineteen" by Steely Dan, "634-5789" by Wilson Pickett, "Seven and Seven Is" by Love, "The Eleven" by the Grateful Dead, "1984" by Spirit, and last but certainly not least, "8:05" by Moby Grape. --KWN]

Marketing Alert? During one of my frequent forays into the CD aisles, I saw a new recording titled Jefferson Airplane, Live In Monterey (Park South Records, 757667058423). The Airplane were just breaking nationally when they appeared at the Monterey Pop Festival in the summer of 1967, and their appearance, like those of Big Brother/ Janis and Hendrix, vaulted them into a whole new commercial arena. A CD devoted to their Monterey appearance would be a treasure indeed. Despite some misgivings about some of the song titles that I'd never heard from that version of the Airplane (the "classic" band with Grace Slick and Spencer Dryden, which I saw countless times between 1967 and 1970), and the apparent length of the set (I didn't attend Monterey Pop, but heard from those who did, that sets were limited to 4-5 numbers.), 14 songs, I bought the CD.

There are probably five songs from Monterey. There are at least three live cuts from a band with Balin and Kaukonen (Slick and Kantner kept the name after Balin left and before it morphed into the Starship) which is not the Airplane, and one, "My Best Friend," is either the original studio version or an alternate take. It's not to difficult to sift among the recording techniques and crowd noise to distinguish the live numbers done by the "classic" band in Monterey and another band at an unknown venue. Neither the back cover of the CD nor the inner sleeve give any recording dates or venue information. Can you say "Sucker!" with your best Bugs Bunny bravado, boys and girls?

Park South Records is a new label that hit the aisles with a vengeance in 2001, releasing a raft of titles, including work by Boz Scaggs (The Lost Concert), John Lee Hooker, Bird/Diz/Miles, Mickey Gilley, The Troggs, Clarence Carter, Billy Joe Royal, and others. The Airplane disc does have songwriting and publishing credits, but it is not what's advertised. I haven't heard any of the other CDs, and a fairly thorough web search turned up no reviews, concerns, or even a web site for the label. I'm not going to. scream "rip off!" but my spider sense is tingling, and I will suggest that you approach releases by this label with caution.

E-mail: [e-mail]. Indeed, all things -- all people -- must pass. R.I.P. Henry Kloss, Rufus Thomas, Roebuck "Pops" Staples, and -- sadness of all sadness -- George Harrison. Jai guru deva ... om.

--KE