Original released on LP RCA Victor LSP 2645
(US, 1964)
"Empty Bed
Blues" was Josh White's farewell recording for Elektra, the record label that
helped (re)introduce him to the mainstream during the height of the '60s folk
revival. To look at the sexy - and risqué for 1962 - cover, one would think
that half of the tunes, stately renditions of gospel songs, wouldn't be at home
on the album. But considering that the ribald, innuendo-laden first side is
belied by White's silky voice and mellifluous guitar, he almost makes the
juke-joint rave-ups sound like show tunes. Given his role as elder statesmen of
acoustic blues, you'd be forgiven for thinking that White didn't need to be
rediscovered as such, but sadly he did. Although considering this album,
"reinvented" might be a better word. From the man who popularized
"Strange Fruit" - perhaps the saddest, most poignant protest song
ever - one wouldn't necessarily expect such explicit sex songs. Whether it's a
tune like the title track or "Backwater Blues," White reaches back to
the lowdown, alpha-male origins of the blues, but comes off a little too much
like a cabaret entertainer. His playing retains the delicate precision that
found him oft-imitated, and the backing, mostly by just Bill Lee on upright
bass, is always tasteful. Still, it's a mellow set, and one partly done with a
wink - considering it was among the last albums that White made before he
died. It seems too minstrely of an end for someone who's scope and influence on
modern blues can't be overstated. (Alex Stimmel in AllMusic)
Voici le tout premier 25 cm de Brigitte, paru en 1963 sur Philips (B 76569). Agée 28 ans, B.B. pose sur la pochette en collant noir et pull rose, sa chevelure blonde relevée en chignon. Elle est assise sur une jolie chaise sur fond vert. C’est très sobre et très suggestif en même temps. L’album s’ouvre sur un titre bourré de punch signé Gainsbourg: “L’Appareil A Sous”. Un délice de jeux de mots sur un twist effréné, chorus de guitare à l’appui. Lorsque l’on connait l’admiration sans borne de Gainsbourg pour B.B., c’est une déclaration à peine déguisée, chanson à double sens dont il se fera le spécialiste par la suite. Pour les morceuax de jazz, type “C’est Rigolo”, “Les Amis de la Musique” et “Everybody Loves My Baby” (standard des années 20 où l’on peut savourer son «accent» british) on sent l’influence de Claude Bolling. 
Michel Polnareff (né le 3 juillet 1944 à Nérac) c'est l’un des seuls artistes français, avec Gainsbourg, à avoir su imposer un style novateur et anglo-saxon. Mélodiste et musicien hors pair, ce «prince de la pop française» est aussi un mythe de par son apparence et son mystère. Ses œuvres ont fait preuve d’une originalité et d’une richesse rares dans le monde de la musique. Il demeure aujourd’hui l’unique artiste capable de s’absenter plus de dix ans de son pays et revenir y faire un triomphe. Michel Polnareff a passé toute son enfance dans la musique. Son père Léo Poll a écrit pour Edith Piaf et Mouloudji. Polnareff commence le piano à 5 ans et reçoit à 11 ans et demi le premier prix de solfège au conservatoire de Paris. À 20 ans, il quitte le cocon familial, la faute à un père trop autoritaire et trop violent. Il s’installe sur les marches du sacré cœur avec une guitare qu’il a achetée chez Beuscher avec ses économies. Ses premières notes seront celles de “La poupée qui fait non”. Il appartient à un groupe de beatnik (mouvement pacifiste) et fait la manche en reprenant les standards rock de l’époque. En 1965, il remporte un concours de rock "Disco Revue" à la Locomotive, club alors branché. Le premier prix est un contrat avec Barclay. Polnareff refuse… Nous comprendrons plus tard qu’en fait, Michel n’a pas envie de devenir célèbre. Il préfère écrire pour les autres alors il va tout faire pour qu’aucun accord avec une maison de disque ne soit possible. Gérard Woog, son ami d’enfance, insiste pour le présenter à Lucien Morisse, patron d’Europe 1 et futur manager. Michel accepte de signer sur le label AZ à condition d’enregistrer à Londres avec Jimmy Page à la guitare et John Paul Jones à la basse (futurs Led Zeppelin). À son grand étonnement, la maison de disque accepte. “La poupée qui fait non” sort le 26 mai 1966 et connaîtra un véritable triomphe. Elle fut reprise par beaucoup d’artistes, y compris Jimi Hendrix.
Recorded quickly
during Led Zeppelin's first American tours, "Led Zeppelin II" provided the
blueprint for all the heavy metal bands that followed it. Since the group could
only enter the studio for brief amounts of time, most of the songs that compose
II are reworked blues and rock & roll standards that the band was
performing on-stage at the time. Not only did the short amount of time result
in a lack of original material, it made the sound more direct. Jimmy Page still
provided layers of guitar overdubs, but the overall sound of the album is heavy
and hard, brutal and direct. "Whole Lotta Love," "The Lemon
Song," and "Bring It on Home" are all based on classic blues
songs - only, the riffs are simpler and louder and each song has an extended
section for instrumental solos. Of the remaining six songs, two sport light
acoustic touches ("Thank You," "Ramble On"), but the other
four are straight-ahead heavy rock that follows the formula of the revamped
blues songs. While "Led Zeppelin II" doesn't have the eclecticism of the group's
debut, it's arguably more influential. After all, nearly every one of the
hundreds of Zeppelin imitators used this record, with its lack of dynamics and
its pummeling riffs, as a blueprin (Stephen Erlewine in AllMusic)
"Fresh Cream" represents so many different firsts, it's difficult to keep count. Cream, of
course, was the first supergroup, but their first album not only gave birth to
the power trio, it also was instrumental in the birth of heavy metal and the
birth of jam rock. That's a lot of weight for one record and, like a lot of
pioneering records, "Fresh Cream" doesn't seem quite as mighty as what would come
later, both from the group and its acolytes. In retrospect, the moments on the
LP that are a bit unformed - in particular, the halting waltz of
"Dreaming" never achieves the sweet ethereal atmosphere it aspires to - stand out more than the innovations, which have been so thoroughly
assimilated into the vocabulary of rock & roll, but "Fresh Cream" was a remarkable
shift forward in rock upon its 1966 release and it remains quite potent. Certainly
at this early stage the trio was still grounded heavily in blues, only fitting
given guitarist Eric Clapton's stint in John Mayall's Bluesbreakers, which is
where he first played with bassist Jack Bruce, but Cream never had the purist
bent of Mayall, and not just because they dabbled heavily in psychedelia. The
rhythm section of Bruce and Ginger Baker had a distinct jazzy bent to their
beat; this isn't hard and pure, it's spongy and elastic, giving the musicians
plenty of room to roam.
If there's anyone who still thinks that only singers make hit records, we can clear up this misconception by mentioning just a few of Bert Kaempfert's orchestral arrangements that have scored some of the biggest smash hits in recent record history... among them, "Wonderland By Night", "Afrikaan Beat", "That Happy Feeling", "A Swingin' Safari". Each selection creates an unforgettable musical picture in the distinctive Kaempfert style. This album is your invitation to "LIVE IT UP" with Mr. Kaempfert: whether you prefer to do it by dancing or listening to the accompaniment of his lively and lovely orchestral interpretations of such irresistible new melodies as "Gentleman Jim", "Typsy Gypsy", "Don't Talk To Me", "Give and Take", "Candlelight Cafe", and many others.