Date: 2009
Release: STRUT
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Of all the conversations I had with my then-fiancé, the most important one in my mind involved Christmas. We were raised in two different faiths, though neither of us are particularly religious as adults. But I had to be sure. Religion I can get by without, but the tradition of dead trees in the house and songs about reindeer–that’s important.

“Sure,” he said, “we can have a Hanukkah bush.”

“You’re not getting it. It’s a Christmas tree,” I replied. “And the music, I have to listen to the music.”

Fortunately my powers of persuasion are strong, and so every year we get our tree from the Boy Scouts up the street and put on the Vince Guaraldi or the Bing Crosby or the Frank Sinatra Christmas records until we can’t take it anymore. Last year’s discovery of the Ramsey Lewis Trio’s Christmas album infused some fresh music, but the cheese-ridden holiday selection remains appalling. No, I do NOT want to hear Andrea Bocelli or Christina Aguilera sing holiday classics. And don’t get me started on the “Very Special Christmas” series.

So when the good people at Strut sent along In the Christmas Groove: Stone Cold Soul From Santa’s Basement, I was cautiously optimistic at best. Compilations, especially of the holiday variety, often fall into the trap of including at least one weird or outrageous track, almost as if the producer wants to prove his credibility–”look at this crazy shit I found that you didn’t!” Would Christmas Groove be filled with obnoxious, brassy pseudo-funky versions of “Jingle Bells”? Is there such a thing as a good, soulful, holiday album?

Yes Musthear, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as soul, drum beats, and bass grooves exist. And so this disc is going into heavy holiday rotation. How could it not, with songs like “Santa’s Got a Bag of Soul” and “Getting Down for Xmas”? (Both, incidentally, are even better than their titles suggest.) No weird-ass novelty songs; no celebrity nonsense. Just solid grooves to get you through the season.

Previews and more are at http://www.inthechristmasgroove.com

Date: February 2, 1999 (release)
Release: Polygram #556074
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A heap of wrinkled laundry led me to discover Wes Anderson’s 1998 film, Rushmore, as well as its soundtrack. I had graduated high school a year earlier and was back at home after my first year in college, ironing in front of the television (what else to do in the ‘burbs on a viciously humid July afternoon? It seemed obvious at the time…), when I stumbled across a movie on cable that was visually and musically unlike anything I’d seen in all my young life. So there I stood for an hour and a half, transfixed and ironing as Rushmore transported me back to the weird time that was high school in songs and images.

Max Fisher, the film’s adolescent hero, is an ambitious kid: he is the president of some half-dozen school clubs and an accomplished playwright who earned a scholarship to Rushmore Academy in the second grade after writing “a little one-act about Watergate.” However, this youthful drive is paradoxically the source of both his greatest achievements and greatest setbacks. Max’s fantastic plays as well as his disastrous attempted romancing of an older woman come from the same bold determination. Furthermore, his unique character often causes him more harm than good as he comes into contact with folks who simply don’t understand him.

As Max rebels against school bullies, back-stabbing middle-aged men and lost love, who then could better furnish the soundtrack of his life than British invasion rockers, punctuated at quieter turns by lovely, twinkling compositions of Mark Mothersbaugh (formerly of Devo), with a dash of Yves Montand and some pre-Islamic Cat Stevens thrown in for good measure? Although this eclectic assortment of artists may seem odd, it is in fact the perfect musical summation of Max, a strange and wonderful kid whose two best friends are a fifth-grader and a middle-age business tycoon. Like the movie itself, the soundtrack is something you want to experience repeatedly and in its entirety. The topsy-turvy mix of mood and tempos it offers up is the essence of its charm. Put it on, and if you’re not put in a better frame of mind, then something just might be seriously wrong with your heart.

Though Anderson originally wanted to use only Kinks material for the soundtrack because

they played loud, angry, teenage rock songs, and they wore blazers and ties and our movie is about a teenager who is loud and angry, and he is almost never seen without his blazer and tie,

he instead opted to round out the soundtrack—it is more faithful to the highs and lows of being a teenager as well as the film’s arc—Max can’t be loud and angry all the time.

The disc kicks off with the Creation’s 1966 hit “Making Time,” full of piss and vinegar, ranting about

making time/shooting lines/for people to believe in/things you say/why do we have to carry on/always singing the same old song?

(In the film, the song plays over a slow-motion montage of Max working, often alone, as the leader of his school clubs.) Nobody cares as much as he does about anything; the lyric foreshadows his anger when he realizes that the love of his life prefers a middle-aged, apathetic loser over him. The halfway point is the Who’s epic “A Quick One While He’s Away”—it coincides with Max’s peaking revenge and hints at the resolution just around the corner with the end repeat “you are forgiven.” By the end of the soundtrack, the listener, like Rushmore’s main man, has realized that there is an inevitable emotional ebb and flow to life that is always beyond control, no matter how talented, committed or deserving you are. The Faces’ bittersweet “Ooh La La” provides the bittersweet closure. “I wish that I knew what I know now, when I was younger,” sums up Max’s final realization that he “didn’t get hurt too bad” during his first foray into love. In fact, he, like us, kind of enjoyed it.

P.S. You don’t have to see the film to appreciate the Rushmore soundtrack, though it is most highly recommended.

Date: 1983
Release: RHINO
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“Somebody… anybody… help me… scream!” insists Chief Rocker Busy Bee and you best believe the party people oblige. Recorded mostly in a dark and sweaty little rap club called the Dixie in the South Bronx, the soundtrack to the movie Wild Style may be the ultimate source for old school rap and hip-hop. It’s the original shit – slick, young rappers with the lyrical prowess boasting and bragging, badder than bad, all over the steadiest, funkiest beats and scratches. The film, the story of a legendary graffiti artist named Zoro who’s pursued by a reporter amidst the throbbing South Bronx rap scene, was made in 1982, predating what is considered the first rap album on CD, Run DMC’s 1984 debut. The music from the film sounds as fresh and visionary today as it did then, the rhythmic and rhyming skills of the rappers and DJs undeniable, flowing with finesse and rock solid confidence.

The a capella rapping on the tracks “Basketball Throwdown,” “Stoop Rap” and “Street Rap” is especially raw and potent. Hearing the birth of what is now popular music’s most dominant genre in the spontaneous street poetry of young city kids is a deep thrill. Other stand-out cuts, wall-to-wall with funky beats and relentlessly skillful raps, are “MC Battle,” “Fantastic Freaks at the Dixie,” “Cold Crush Bros. at the Dixie,” and “Double Trouble at the Amphitheatre.” The music of Wild Style has been sourced and sampled a million ways, inspiring a million styles, earning the CD the feel of a sacred text for the hip-hop universe.

Date: 1994
Release: HEARTBEAT
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A musical mish mash of 33 rocksteady, ska, and dancehall tracks of the highest order, all recorded at Clement “Coxsone” Dodd’s legendary Studio One. Dodd was the Berry Gordy of Jamaica, and like Motown, his label consistently cranked out hits which combined strong song-writing with catchy melodies and heavy rhythms to set you moving. For a while there in the 60s and 70s, this was the Jamaican studio that was hard to beat. This compilation reveals why. Featuring the absolute best from the Studio One vaults, it delivers a perfectly flowing mix capable of converting the most reggae-hating elements of Babylon to the Red, Gold, Black, and Green.

Vintage sounds created by such major players as Bob Marley & the Wailers, Lee “Scratch” Perry, The Skatalites, Burning Spear, Sugar Minott, The Heptones, and Marcia Griffiths, along with a host of lesser known but no less great artists of obscurity. This album enlightens as it seeps in, reminding us that we’ve got to “Simmer Down,” lay back, and enjoy. A brilliant first step for those wanting to move beyond Bob Marley’s “Legend,” and into the relatively unknown realm of vintage Jamaican music. Maximum respect required.

Date: 1998
Release: RHINO #R2 75209
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Eighteen sizzling Latin grooves with the power to put some spice back into your life. The tracks collected here were recorded between 1954 and 1972, and range from classic mambo and Latin-jazz to funk and salsa.

This collection contains only the hottest tracks from such major Latin artists as Willie Bobo, Mongo Santamaria, Cal Tjader, Machito, Tito Puente, Ray Barretto, and others. There are also a number of obscure and less-obvious selections, including songs by Ocho, Kako & His Orchestra, and the ever-funky Pucho & His Latin Soul Brothers, making it a well rounded and totally enjoyable introduction to this diverse genre.

The songs are ordered effectively, with each track adding a little more heat to the overall vibe. While Latin music can sometimes start to sound a bit repetitive after a while, this disc brims with such high-octane grooves that it’s bound to grab you by the hips and set you moving. A perfect choice for keeping your house guests happily on their feet and off your nice white sofa. Auy, yuy, yuy!!!

Date: 1999
Release: COMET RECORDS 009
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The Funk goes native on this heavy back-to-Africa collection of rare Afro-grooves from around the globe. Ouelele is an eclectic mixture of African and African-derived music from 12 different artists who deliver some of the heaviest rhythms known to man. Nothing hits harder than the hardcore Afrobeat of Smahila & The S.B’s epic “African Movement,” a 19-minute Fela Kuti derived groove that keeps you spellbound with its endless energy. Soul-jazz meets South Africa in Letta M’Bulu’s swinging cover of Hugh Masekela’s “What’s Wrong With Groovin’.” All the intensity of free-jazz is channeled into the percussion heavy groove of Philip Cohran & The African Heritage Ensemble’s “Unity,” a tribal-funk jam built around a hypnotically droning violin line and a wall of drums.

Henri Guedon’s “Volcano” is a highly danceable obscurity that skillfully combines jazzy flutes and horns with raw Afro-Latin percussion and pure funk bass. Argentine native Fernando Gelbard opens up 1974′s “Alevacolariea” with an African-inspired chant sung over a lone hand drum, before kicking into a Fender Rhodes led vamp that blends the best elements of early Fusion with the soul of ancient Africa. Nigerian percussionist Ginger Johnson & His African Messengers deliver a truck-load of solid rhythmic uplift with “I Jool Omo,” a jazzy gem from their highly collectible 1967 lp, “African Party.” New York City-based Antibalas unleash a brand new and heavy Afrobeat classic, “World War IV,” an unadulterated blast of prime African funk in the tradition of “Black President” Fela Kuti.

The album closes with Batsumi’s exotic slice of South African jazz-mysticism, “Lishonile,” a 9-minute track swirling with impassioned flute and sax solos. Without a dull moment or weak track, Ouelele is definitely worth owning. And, if you find yourself Jonesing for more rare and obscure Afro-rhythms, check out Comet Records’ earlier collection, Racubah!

Date: 2001
Release: Rounder #617665
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For almost four years I lived in an endless summer. I inhabited a tiny room in a ramshackle beach house built on pier pilings right on the sand in Malibu, California. "This is not a dream!" I reminded myself daily. Every weekend was spent in the warm surf, beach combing, or reclining with friends on my balcony overlooking the vast Pacific. Without fail, I’d drag out my hefty stereo speakers, douse myself in sunscreen, crack open a magazine or book, and put on some music. It didn’t take me long to realize that I had become a barely tolerated DJ to my neighbors. I guess they weren’t fans of the Buzzcocks and the Clash. My spinning habits were politely adjusted to include a more beach friendly cross section of my CD collection. The soulful Jamaican sounds of the Studio One label became an essential component of languid Saturdays basking in the grateful smiles of my friends and neighbors. I had found my weekend theme music. If I had all the money in the world to commission somebody to create the most perfect music for lounging seaside in the hot sun, they would be hard-pressed to come up with anything that could rival the classic recorded output of Studio One

Always a hit factory, the label came close to completely dominating the Jamaican dance floor with the emergence of the long-playing 12-inch "discomix" in the 1970s. Studio One capitalized on the extended discomix format, successfully recycling some of its best material from the 1960s. Older hits were updated simply by mixing in lengthy instrumental endings. The popularity of the discomix allowed the label to prolong its reign, even after its most creative period had passed. Because a discomix filled up an entire side of a 45 rpm record, a hit song had the power to keep competing records off the DJ’s turntable for a good long time.

Nice Up The Dance complies the very best of these highly sought-after 12-inch classics, including tracks from such legendary artists as Delroy Wilson, Alton Ellis, and Tommy McCook. The album opens with Cornell Campbell & the Eternal‘s obscure classic, "Queen Of The Minstrels," which unfolds in a deliciously slow groove that suspends both time and worry. The discomix of Alton Ellis‘s eternal reggae classic, "Can I Change My Mind," clocks in at an astounding 11-minutes. This endless version gives us plenty of time to experience the full magnitude of Ellis’s mighty soul caressing voice. The lengthy instrumental sections that fill Nice Up The Dance not only give added depth to older hits, but also showcase the impressive talents of the Studio One house musicians, masters of the hypnotic reggae groove.

For almost three decades, Studio One has provided Jamaicans with the soulful soundtrack of their lives. It is time for the rest of the world to catch on.

Date: 2001(release)
Release: Strut #013
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Today I went back to the Amoeba Music store in Hollywood and gushed my gratitude to Lance the clerk for strongly recommending that I pick up a copy of Nigeria 70: The Definitive Story of 1970s Funky Lagos. He smiled knowingly and gestured towards the sky: it just so happened that it was this very album that was blasting out from the speakers above. I gave him his props, then turned to survey the store. The African music section was thronged with the curious, ears ablaze, their eyes eagerly searching out the source of these throbbing grooves. The eternal music pusher, I handed a stranger this gem-packed two-disc anthology of funky Nigerian music from the 1970s, and pointed upwards. “Is THIS what they’re playing?” he asked excitedly, studying the eye-catching cover photo of an African funkster posing proudly in knee-high white platform boots. I nodded gravely. “Wow,” was all he could say. As I left the store, I noticed that only a few copies of Nigeria 70 remained on the shelves. Los Angeles record buyers are full of surprises.

Nigeria 70 appropriately kicks off with a track from the mighty Nigerian who gave Afrobeat its name, defined its sound, and brought it worldwide fame: Fela Kuti. For those already familiar with the shamanistic brew of this musical powerhouse, the remaining tracks on these two discs will offer a sonically stunning alternative to Fela’s distinct brand of Afrobeat. While hugely influential on his fellow countrymen (particularly in raising their political consciousness), his musical virtuosity remained unchallenged, as few imitators could afford to employ large ensembles of talented musicians, let alone play with that same black magic stirred up in Fela’s marathon improvised jams. But instead of trying to approximate Fela’s massive Afro-jazz-funk grooves, many of his musical contemporaries stepped out from under his shadow, imaginatively fusing a wide array of musical styles to the funky polyrhythms of the Nigerian Afrobeat.

From the rocking psychedelic guitar sounds of Blo‘s “Chant To Mother Earth” to the Islamic-flavored groove of Bala Miller & The Great Music Pirameeds of Afrika‘s “Ikon Allah” (not to mention Ofo & The Black Company’s thrilling combination of the two on”Allah Wakbarr”), Nigeria 70 samples the full spectrum of Afro-funk fusions to come out of Lagos. Loaded with rarities from Nigeria’s famous to its most obscure players, these two discs present a colorful and varied Afro-centric mix of jazz, rock, funk, blues, soul, reggae, disco, Muslim and indigenous influences.

But despite the impressive originality of many of the artists featured on Nigeria 70, it would be wrong to underestimate the influence that Fela had on the Nigerian scene. After all, it was Fela who successfully inserted biting social commentary into the groove, constructing a bullet-proof Afrobeat that transformed the Nigerian dancefloor into an arena for protest and movement in the face of successively repressive military dictatorships (Fela was imprisoned several times, a testament to the menacing power of his music).

Tony Allen, the drummer credited with pioneering the dauntingly complex Afrobeat technique, was one among many who internalized Fela’s lessons. In 1979, a year after ending his long tenure as Fela’s all-important drummer, he formed Tony Allen & His Afro Messengers, recording “No Discrimination,” one of several overt message-songs included in this collection. Incorporating elements of jazz scatting and guitar, “No Discrimination” is a horn-heavy and strongly Fela-flavored plea for peace and tolerance.

Similarly indebted to Fela is the Sahara All Stars Band Jos’s “Enjoy Yourself,” a philosophical, eight-minute, in-the-pocket jam. On the darker side of things, Fela’s misogynistic leanings are echoed in Bongos Ikwue‘s earthy folk-funk tune, “Woman Made The Devil.” Let there be no doubt, this song is an extremely guilty pleasure.

Exploding with extra-thick bass, heart-thumping percussion, blaring horns, slanky guitars, sweaty vocals, funky drummers, evolved influences and raw soul energy, Nigeria 70 might very well live up to its rather large claim of being the “definitive” collection. Whatever the case may be, this boxed-set makes for some incredibly great listening. Just ask anybody lucky enough to have been at Amoeba Music Hollywood on Saturday afternoon.