Tag Archives: Blues

The Revelers: Get Ready

Revelers_GetReadySouthern Louisiana soul

Formed from members of the Red Stick Ramblers and Pine Leaf Boys, the Revelers cover a lot of Southern musical ground. Their last release, a four-song salute to swamp pop, showed off just one of their many influences. Their latest features all original material that combines zydeco, cajun, southern soul, pop, country, jazz and blues into a wonderfully potent mash. The Revelers mingle their roots into joyful dance music that’s hard to pin down; one can point to a particular accordion, fiddle, throaty saxophone, waltz-time rhythm or Cajun French lyric, but no single element fully defines the Revelers. Think of NRBQ with a stronger Southern pull.

The album’s songs cover the entire lifecycle of love. They caution listeners to “Play it Straight,” but apologetically admit they’ve cheated (“Just When I Thought I Was Dreaming”). They feel unappreciated (“Being Your Clown”), dump ill-fitting mates (“Please Baby Please”), put their troubles behind them (“Outta Sight”), lament their decisions (“Single Jeans”), and find themselves on the receiving end of a scorned lover’s revenge (“You No Longer Want to See Me”). But no matter the subject, there’s a danceable beat, culminating in the album’s closing  “Ayou On Va Danser?” This is a band to see and dance to live, but until you can, a few turns around the living room will have to do. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

The Revelers’ Home Page

Little Richard: Directly From My Heart

LittleRichard_DirectlyFromMyHeartSolid 3-CD set of seminal mid-50s sides and mid-60s comeback

It’s hard to believe, but Little Richard’s key sides – “Tutti Frutti,” “Long Tall Sally,” “Rip it Up,” “Lucille,” “Jenny, Jenny,” “Keep A-Knockin’,” “Good Golly Miss Molly” and others – were recorded in only seventeen months, between September 1955 and January 1957. This will particularly surprise fans who first heard the original releases stretched out another eighteen months, through July 1958. Part of that schedule was due to the natural tempo of radio play and the singles charts, but a larger part was a byproduct of Richard’s late 1957 exit and subsequent hiatus from secular recording.

In the Fall of 1957, at the very height of his fame, Richard stepped out of the rock ‘n’ roll spotlight to devote his life to God and record gospel for End, Mercury, Atlantic and Coral. He returned with a one-off secular single for Little Star in 1962, recorded briefly for Specialty in 1964 (scoring a minor hit with “Bama Lama Bama Loo”), and returned full-time to rock ‘n’ roll with Vee-Jay from mid-64 to late-65. Richard’s stay on Vee-Jay included a number of royalty-recovering remakes that seemed more to imitate his earlier self than break new ground, but there was also new material and contemporary covers that found the showman’s vitality and ingenuity completely intact.

Specialty’s three-CD set cherry-picks Richard’s brilliant initial recordings of the mid-50s and his return to rock ‘n’ roll in the mid-60s. The set includes hits and B-sides that show off his initial failure to find an original sound, the spark lit in 1955, his inimitable string of hits, and his 1960s reworking of his own creation. Most startling to this day are the early hits he cut at Cosimo Matassa’s J&T studio, backed by the finest players in New Orleans. The morning session produced R&B that failed to differentiate itself from his earlier work for RCA and Peacock. But his off-the-cuff lunchtime rendition of the raunchy “Tutti Frutti” turned producer Bumps Blackwell’s head and was quickly spun into gold.

In short order, Richard laid down the most famous portion of his catalog, garnering radio play, chart hits, international tours and feature film appearances. But just as quickly as his fame came, he stopped it cold in its tracks with an October 1957 decision to abandon rock ‘n’ roll. Specialty managed to extend Richard’s chart presence with patched up demos of “Keep A-Knockin’” and “Ooh! My Soul,” the 1955-6 recordings of “True Fine Mama,” “Good Golly Miss Molly” and “Baby Face,” and Little Richard singles continued to pour out of Specialty for another year. But only a 1955 recording of “Kansas City” even grazed the charts, bubbling under at #95 in 1959, and Richard all but disappeared from popular music.

To be more nuanced about his first morning session, there are several highlights among what might otherwise have been pedestrian R&B sides. Richard croons movingly on “Wonderin’,” Alvin “Red” Tyler’s sax adds muscle to “All Night Long,” and Justin Adams’ guitar solo is an unexpectedly raw delight on “Directly From My Heart.” By the time Richard swings into “Baby,” you can start to feel it in his vocals, but the jump to “Tutti Frutti” is really a full quantum leap. Richard’s opening “wop bop a loo bop a lop bom bom” turns everything up several notches, and the band – particularly drummer Earl Palmer – ignites.

Over the next few months Richard built on the invention of “Tutti Frutti,” reinventing its opening call for “Heeby-Jeebies Love,” taking emotional pleading to a new level with “True, Fine Mama” and “Shake a Hand,” lighting up the band’s New Orleans second-line on “Slippin’ and Slidin’ (Peepin’ and Hidin’),” and laying down the rock ‘n’ roll templates “Long Tall Sally,” “Ready Teddy” and “Rip it Up.” The band’s cool groove on “Lucille” contrasts with Richard’s unrestrained vocal, and he sets the studio on fire with his signature “Good Golly, Miss Molly” and the awesomely salacious “The Girl Can’t Help It.” By 1957, even the straight blues of “Early One Morning” succumbed to the edgy power of Richard’s singing.

Richard’s 1964 full return to rock ‘n’ roll found his fire stoked by the gospel he’d been recording. His televised live set for the UK’s Granada transitions seamlessly between secular and gospel material, and his recordings showed new sparks. 1964’s “Bama Lama Bama Loo” has more of a go-go rhythm than his earlier work, and “Poor Boy Paul” has a light Calypso undertow for its novelty chorus lyric. Moving to Vee Jay, Richard spent considerable time re-recording his hits in an attempt to regain royalties he’d signed away in 1957. This set sidesteps those re-recordings in favor of new material and covers that find Richard tackling songs from Leadbelly, Larry Williams, Fats Domino and others.

Though the Vee Jay performances aren’t as incendiary as the mid-50s Specialty sessions, there’s some great material here that shows Richard still expanding his reach. Among the more notable sidemen in his 1964 comeback sessions was reported to be Jimi Hendrix, whose guitar is said be be heard on several tracks, including a cover of Don Covay’s “I Don’t Want What You Got But It’s Got Me.” More definitively documented is the electric violin of Don “Sugarcane” Harris on the blues “Goin’ Home Tomorrow.” Richard successfully reaches back to rock ‘n’ roll’s roots for “Money Honey,” “Lawdy Miss Clawdy,” “Blueberry Hill,” and “Short Fat Fanny,” but also rocks contemporary material, such as Nilsson’s “Groovy Little Suzy” and Alvin Tyler’s “Cross Over.”

Richard’s originals during this period included “My Wheels They Are Slippin’ All the Way,” “Dancing All Around the World” and the wonderfully funky “It Ain’t Whatcha Do (It’s the Way How You Do It).” Richard seemed to be searching for his place in the musical landscape of 1964, singing rock, soul and orchestral ballads, and even swinging brassy updates of the Platters’ “Only You” and Dean Martin’s “Memories Are Made of This.” Unfortunately, with Vee Jay crumbling amid financial malfeasance (not to mention the loss of the Four Seasons), and the British Invasion washing up on American shores, there was little mainstream chart action and no commercial comeback for Richard’s records.

And that lack of notice is a shame, as Little Richard was still in top form in 1964. Vee Jay managed to release two full albums before dribbling out the remaining material over the following decade. Specialty’s three-CD set provides a good selection of the label’s seminal mid-50s recordings and Vee Jay’s comeback material, and represents a way-station between single-disc hit anthologies, the foundational original albums Here’s Little Richard and Little Richard Volume 2, and the all-in Specialty Sessions box set. The 36-page booklet includes liner notes from Billy Vera, and plenty of photos, but is sorely missing session dates and personnel listings. The tracks are all mono, except for stereo on “Bama Lama Bama Loo” and “Dancing All Around the World.” [©2015 Hyperbolium]

The Budrows: No Bad Whiskey EP

Budrows_NoBadWhiskeyFoot-stompin’ cigar box rock ‘n’ roll

It’s hard to explain this trio’s music better than they explain it themself: foot-stompin’, cigar box rock ‘n’ roll. Based around Jason Farthing’s cigar box guitar and bass drum, and Jesse “El Gato” Boden’s harmonica and flute, the trio is fronted by the vocals, washboard and tambourine of Farthing’s stepdaughter Macarena Rivera. The result lands somewhere between juke joint blues, the lo-fi stomp of Holly Golightly and the Brokeoffs, and the Woodstock-era sounds of Canned Heat and Sweetwater. Rivera brings a solid shot of sass to the EP’s title song, but shows a more vulnerable side on “Prove Me Wrong.” Boden sings the relentless “Devil’s On My Side,” and the closing duet “Never Coming Back” evokes the spirit of Richard and Mimi Farina. The EP’s raw guitar, smooth flute and hand percussion are complemented by Alan Deremo’s bass and Hannah Glass’ violin, and though the guests fill out the trio’s basic sound, it still remains 100% true to its foot-stompin’ Saturday night roots. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

The Budrows’ Home Page

Conway Twitty: Rocks at the Castaway

ConwayTwitty_RocksAtTheCastawayOne-of-a-kind Conway Twitty live set from 1964

More than a decade before Conway Twitty became one of country music’s most prolific hitmakers, he was a pompadour-wearing rock ‘n’ roller, schooled by Sam Phillips at Sun Studios. Starting with 1958’s chart-topping “It’s Only Make Believe,” Twitty strung together nearly two years of pop hits that included “Lonely Blue Boy,” “Mona Lisa” and a bouncy take on “Danny Boy” (all of which can be found on The Rock ‘n’ Roll Years box set, or the more concise Conway Rocks). He turned to country music in the mid-60s, and with 1968’s “Next in Line,” began twenty years of nearly unparalleled chart success. The transition from ’50s rocker to ’60s country star found Twitty and his band the Lonely Blue Boys on the road, playing bars and clubs throughout the country, mixing original hits with covers from blues, rock, R&B and country.

In August 1964 the group touched down for a week’s stand at Geneva-on-the-Lake’s Castaway Nightclub. Hobbyists Alan Cassaro and Bob Scherl used an Olsen reel-to-reel recorder and an Electrovoice EV 664 microphone to capture two sets on each of two nights. With only a single microphone (which Twitty generously allowed them to place next to his stage mic) and a mono recorder, Cassaro and Scherl were at the mercy of stage mixes that shortchanged the drums, sax and keyboards, but Twitty’s guitar and vocals are clear, and the band’s crowd-pleasing performances are superb. This material has been issued before, but Bear Family has improved the sound, cherry-picked the best version of each song from the four different sets, and included the previously unissued instrumental “Rinky.”

The set list features many ‘50s and early ‘60s rock, pop, R&B and blues standards, including Muddy Waters’ “Got My Mojo Working,” Lloyd Price’s “Lawdy Miss Clawdy,” Jimmy Reed’s “Big Boss Man,” Chuck Berry’s “Memphis Tennessee,” and incendiary covers of Elmore James’ “Shake Your Moneymaker” and Bo Diddley’s “You Can’t Judge a Book by the Cover.” The latter finds Big Joe E. Lewis laying down a great bass line over which the sax, piano and guitar solo. Twitty’s talent as a rock ‘n’ ‘roller was overwhelmed by his later success as a country star, but he sings here with real fervor, and lays down several hot guitar leads. Twitty’s 1960 original “She’s Mine” shows a heavy Jerry Lee Lewis influence, and his hit “Lonely Blue Boy” (sung both in medley and standalone) has the unmistakable imprint of Elvis Presley’s growl.

By 1964 Twitty was already cutting country demos, and the next year he’d jump from MGM to Decca to record with Owen Bradley in Nashville. His live set was incorporating country material, including Willie Nelson’s “Funny How Time Slips Away,” Hank Williams’ “Your Cheatin’ Heart,” and Bobby Darin’s “Things.” His band still favored blues, rock and pop, but you can hear Twitty’s vocals starting to add country flavor to the bent notes. Even more country, his cover of “It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’” adds a helping of  honky-tonk to Johnny Tillotson’s string-lined original, and “Born to Lose” is sung as a blues that fits between Ted Daffan’s 1943 original and Ray Charles’ lush cover.

Bear Family’s knit the tracks together with bits of stage patter, audience chatter, pre-intermission vamping and even a few flubs, to provide a sense of the overall performance; all that’s missing are the tunes sung by band members when Twitty too a break. The band shows off their road-honed chops as they swing into each song at Twitty’s calls. The set list depicts a relentless show that powers through up-tempo singles “Is a Bluebird Blue,” “Danny Boy,” “Mona Lisa,” and packs emotional crooning into covers of “Unchained Melody” and “What a Dream.” The set’s booklet offers Bear Family’s typical riches of photos, graphic design and well-researched liner notes. This is a great release for Twitty’s ardent fans, documenting the earliest phase of his transition from a rock ‘n’ roller to a country icon. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Charlie Parr: Stumpjumper

CharlieParr_StumpjumperCountry-blues from another time

Country-blues artist Charlie Parr isn’t just from Duluth, Minnesota, he’s from another time. Parr’s 12-string, National steel, fretless banjo, and especially his high, searing vocals spring more from the heat of Southeastern blues than they do from the chilly shores of Lake Superior. His transplanted roots aren’t without precedent, as his career developed in parallel to the bluegrass of Trampled By Turtles and old-timey fiddle tunes of Four Mile Portage, and his Minnesota upbringing was itself quite rural. But there’s an edginess to his work that’s even more primordial and other-worldly, and his string riffs often repeat in idiosyncratic patterns that are hypnotic and spiritual. The recording quality is modern, but his expression has the impromptu feel of field recordings.

Parr often lives the itinerant road life of his blues ancestors, reportedly even cooking on his engine manifold. He ventured to North Carolina to collaborate on these sessions with Megafun’s Phil Cook, recording his first album outside of Minnesota, and his first with a full band. The piano, bass and drums provide Parr an opportunity to stray from his double duty as both percussionist and melodist, but he still finds plenty of space to double down on his usual syncopation. His assembled band mates tune Parr’s rhythmic grooves, providing a natural extension of his solo style, and Nick Peterson’s production highlights individual instrumental voices within the interlocking mash of fiddle, banjo, bass, acoustic, electric, steel-, 6- and 12-string guitars.

Parr’s more of a storyteller than an autobiographer, though he leverages both talents here. His stories include mean breakups, meditations on aging and fatalistic views of changing times. He draws upon long-held beliefs with the revengeful hymn “Empty Out Your Pockets,” and twists personal experiences into the fantastical “On Marrying a Woman With an Uncontrollable Temper.” Parr recounts more than he performs; the difference is subtle, but adds a sense of authenticity to his first-person narratives, whether personal, like the album’s title track, or historical, such as the captivity narrative of “Falcon.” The album closes with a cover of the murder ballad “Delia,” adding a heartfelt link to the interpretive chain of folk music. Parr is an old soul, but as the vitality of his music proves, soul never really gets old. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Charlie Parr’s Home Page

Leo Bud Welch: I Don’t Prefer No Blues

LeoBudWelch_IDontPreferNoBluesYou’re never too old to sing the blues

82-year-old Leo Welch is sure making up for lost time. After releasing his gospel-infused debut, Sabougla Voices, he’s back with a sophomore effort. The common saw of younger artists — that you have twenty-something years to make your first record, and only one to make your second — doesn’t really apply here; there’s no way Welch could have spent eighty-one years of pent-up music on a single debut album. In this second trip to the studio, he expands into secular themes and more straight forward electric blues, with excellent support from Jimbo Mathus, Matt Patton, Bronson Tew, Eric Carlton, Stu Cole and Sharde Thomas. His original material (apparently all titles but King Louie Bankston’s hypnotic “Girl in the Holler”) include the down-tempo lament of the opening “Poor Boy,” the buzzing woe of “Goin’ Down Slow,” the tipsy soul “Too Much Wine,” and the frantic “I Don’t Know Her Name.” Welch’s singing is raw and vital, and he’s got a knack for crafting lyrical hooks whose repetition make sure you get the point. The band provides flexible support, getting low down and gritty as needed, and rocking when the spirit strikes. Records like this are typically the province of crate digging, so it’s still surprising to find one that’s new. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Leo Bud Welch’s Home Page

Jimbo Mathus: Blue Healer

JimboMathus_BlueHealerA head-turning arc through the Southern musical landscape

From the blistering opener, the original “Shoot Out the Lights,” it’s clear that Jimbo Mathus will be laying on hands that have been sanctified by the spirits of all manner of Southern music. With the prodding of Bronson Tew’s drums and and Eric “Roscoe” Ambel’s guitar, Mathus confesses that he’s the sort of person that trouble seems to find. It’s the start of a loosely structured concept album that sees Mathus’ protagonist counting up his sins, seeking the healing powers of the mystical title character, and questioning whether redemption can really even be had.

The story begins with the narrator cocooned in his troubles, but with “Ready to Run,” he emerges into a Springsteen-styled catharsis of urgency, ambition and passion. He aims to vanquish his doubts of redemption, but the struggle isn’t resolved in a simple, linear narrative. His thoughts turn inward with the mystical ponderings of “Coyote” and “Bootheel Witch,” and resurface to find wanton ways still at odds with a commitment to change. “Waiting for the Other Shoe to Fall” documents Saturday night’s revelry, and the closing “Love and Affection” provides Sunday morning’s appeal for forgiveness. In between, “Save It For the Highway” depicts the ongoing struggle between dark and light, and suggests the cycle may have no end.

There are numerous musical threads woven into this album, often within a single piece. The lyrics, guitars and Tex-Mex sounds of “Mama Please” echo David Allen Coe, Merle Haggard and Doug Sahm. The invocation of “Blue Healer” suggests the hoodoo of Dr. John and the dark, melodrama of Screamin’ Jay Hawkins. There’s neo-psych guitar, an acoustic love song, spiritual New Orleans R&B, and even a great, noisy jam playing out “Bootheel Witch.”. This is music made by someone steeped in Southern styles; someone whose education was as much atmosphere as lesson plan. The fluency with which Mathus navigates his influences will come as no surprise to his fans, but even they may be floored by how fluidly it all comes together. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Jimbo Mathus’ Home Page

Ray Wylie Hubbard: The Ruffian’s Misfortune

RayWylieHubbard_TheRuffiansMisfortuneRough and raw and blue and country and rockin’

Hubbard picks up where he left off with 2012’s The Grifter’s Hymnal, bursting with creative songs that merge country, blues and rock into a seamless experience. Recorded in only a few days, mostly live in the studio, Hubbard came prepared with his songs done and his regular rhythm section (Rick Richards on drums and George Reiff on bass) complemented by the guitars of his son Lucas and Austinite Gabriel Rhodes. The preparation and familiarity clearly turned the players loose, as these songs have the patina of material that had been honed on the road, with deep grooves, rhythm guitars that interlock and leads that play off one another.

The band follows Hubbard with incredible ease as he moves from gritty electric blues to acoustic folk-country. There’s a poet’s sweat in his lyrics, born of life experience rather than academic construction. He calls out Lightnin’ Hopkins and Sticky Fingers-era Rolling Stones on “Hey Mama, My Time Ain’t Long,” and both the Stones and other blues legends turn up regularly throughout the album. “Jessie Mae” was inspired by Mississippi blues legend Jessie Mae Hemphill, and “Mr. Musselwhite’s Blues” sings of the mentoring Musselwhite received from Little Walter and Big Joe Williams. Hubbard also pays tribute with some fine harmonica playing throughout the album.

At 68, it’s not surprising that mortality threads through several of Hubbard’s songs, including the gospel-soul “Barefoot in Heaven” and the redemption-seeking “Stone Blind Horses.” But even with the devil as a toll-taker on the blues highway, Hubbard’s not preoccupied with the hereafter. He illuminates the virtues of badass girls with guitars and recounts his own history of fast times. “Bad on Fords” is sung more slyly than Sammy Hagar’s amped up cover, and the rapid-fire delivery of “Down By The River” (which recalls the earlier “Coricidin Bottle”) leads to some terrific twin guitar leads. Hubbard’s a man who knows what he wants to say, how he wants to say it and how he wants it to sound, and that’s about all you can ask for. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Ray Wylie Hubbard’s Home Page

Anne McCue: Blue Sky Thinkin’

AnneMcCue_BlueSkyThinkinAnne McCue swings

Anne McCue is better known for standing in front of guitars and drums than clarinets and brass. Her previous albums reached back to the gutsy sound of 1970s rock vocalists, as well as contemporaries like Sam Phillips and Lucinda Williams; her latest reaches back several more decades, to the sounds of the 1930s. There’s always been a bluesy edge to her singing, and here those notes consort with the roots of swing and gypsy jazz. McCue dials down the ferocity of her vocals to an era-appropriate slyness, picks terrific figures on her guitar, and perhaps most impressively of all, writes songs that bid to fill some blank pages in the great American songbook.

Drummer Dave Raven nails the era’s blood-pumping excitement with Krupa-styled tom-toms on the opening “Dig Two Graves,” Deanie Richardson’s fiddle provides a superb foil for McCue’s six string swing, and Jim Hoke’s clarinet and horn chart fills in the period detail. The song’s bouncy tempo camouflages lyrics of noirish revenge, with San Francisco fog cloaking fatalistic fortunes. McCue turns to folk-blues with the finger-picked renewal of “Spring Cleaning in the Wintertime” and the old-timey “Cowgirl Blues.” She turns into a charming, coquettish chanteuse for “Long Tall Story,” and gets slinky, ala Peggy Lee, on the double bass and finger-snapping “Save a Life.”

Within the realm of swinging beats, McCue’s songs are quite diverse, ranging from the rockabilly “Little White Cat” to the fiery tango “Uncanny Moon.” There’s a nostalgic jazz core to the album, but it’s embroidered with elements of New Orleans funk, New York sophistication, big band rhythms, sinuous blues, stage flair and lyric craft. Dave Alvin guests as vocalist on the Cab Calloway-styled “Devil in the Middle,” and the album’s lone-cover, Regis McNichols Jr.’s contemporary “Knock on Wood,” fits perfectly with the standards vibe. McCue’s virtuosity is no surprise, but the ease with which she’s absorbed and restated the beating heart of swing music is impressive and thrilling. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Anne McCue’s Home Page

Mark-Almond: Mark-Almond

MarkAlmond_MarkAlmondA neglected early ‘70s British rock-jazz classic

Guitarist Jon Mark and wind player and percussionist Johnny Almond met in 1969 as members of John Mayall’s band. Upon their departure from Mayall in 1970, they formed this eponymous quartet (not to be confused with Soft Cell’s Marc Almond!) with bassist Rodger Sutton and keyboardist Tommy Eyre. As with the music they recorded with Mayall, Mark and Almond chose a drummerless configuration that continued to work surprisingly well. Eyre’s piano, Sutton’s bass and Mark’s rhythm playing each take turns holding down the beat, leaving the others free to jam and improvise.

The album’s original five tracks clocked in at forty minutes, with two suites (“City” and “Love”) stretching past eleven minutes apiece. This provided the players – all four – a lot space to stretch out and interplay. The opening “The Ghetto” is a gospel soul number with a moving lyric of desperation set to a vocal chorus and Eyre’s perfect mix of acoustic and electric piano. Almond’s superb sax solo is perfectly set in a middle section between the hushed vocals of the opening and closing.

“The City” has a short lyric of escape, but quickly gives way to a jazz-tinged instrumental that provides each player a chance to shine. Sutton’s bass flows underneath as Almond takes a sax solo and Eyre vamps on piano, the two occasionally joining one another for to riff. Sutton steps to the front for a short interlude before Almond returns on flute; a few minutes later the song turns heavy with Mark’s low twanging guitar and assorted hand percussion.

The moody “Tramp and the Young Girl” hits blue notes in both its vocal melody and the tragic disposition of its title characters. The bass, electric piano, vibraphone and flute provide superb backing for Mark’s perfectly wrought, jazz-tinged vocal. Things pick up for “Love,” a suite that opens in a renaissance style before transitioning into a percussive, bass- and vibe-led middle section. The song’s vocal is a short, blues should, which leads to an ear-clearing, calling-all-dogs sax solo and a mellower instrumental play out.

What’s truly impressive about this band – aside from the talent of the four players – is its range between songs and within suites. The compositions carry over the ballroom jam of the ‘60s, but tighten them up and expand the instrumental and musical palettes, much as did Traffic, Steely Dan and others. It’s hard to imagine how this album was allowed to fall out of print; even Line’s German reissue disappeared. Varese’s domestic issue augments the original five tracks with a pair of single edits and a four-page booklet that includes liner notes by Jerry McCulley. [©2015 Hyperbolium]