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VARIOUS
NONSCD50
--Lisa Weeks
MIKE STERN
Give And Take
STERN'S A MONSTER on guitar. He's got an unmistakable signature tone, a ballsy personality to his playing, and a penchant for the same degree of power he used back when he was working for Miles Davis (check him out on We Want Miles if you haven't already). He'll cut a path through your head with his juggling of Coltrane's "Giant Steps," then make you snot-nose sentimental with his own gorgeous "Everything Changes." Doesn't hurt that Michael Brecker, David Sanborn, Jack DeJohnette and John Patitucci are in on the show. Stern's the perfect player to introduce to your metalhead guitarist nephew if he thinks of jazz guitar strictly in terms of Herb Ellis. Lay Stern's version of Hendrix's "Who Knows" on him/her and see if you don't get a little more respect next time you visit. The guy epitomizes the successful outcome of all that '70s jazz-rock-fusion brouhaha. --Dave McElfresh
TENDERLOIN
Tenderloin
TENDERLOIN HAS A big beefy ear-piercing sound, like a sledge hammer bashing a cow skull courtesy of the local slaughterhouse, and as meaty as Captain Beefheart's saucy blues rock shepherd's pie if it were still served today. Picture the demented Beefheart fronting Soundgarden at the Tucson Blues Fest. Tenderloin is a prime filet-mignon blues-punk hybrid: Take equal parts Beefheart, Soundgarden and the Supersuckers and stick it on a slow-roasting spit, add baked beans and chili powder, and enjoy the pungent barbecued flavor. Sink your teeth into "Fat Side Up," a harp-driven ode to the 'Loins penchant for blood-dripping climactic delight. On "Lights Out" and "Pawn Shop," lead barker Ernie evokes the twisted-but-brilliant dementia of Beefheart fueled on corn squeezin's and some late-night, juke-joint indiscretions. The speedy punk raunchiness of the hooch-guzzling "Bourbon" confirms the 'Loins preference for over-indulgent alcoholic libation and some serious damn head banging. This behemoth Austin four-piece even manages to mangle ZZ Top's "Precious and Grace," as if the sharply dressed, bearded shitkickers brandished nose rings, tattoos and spiked dog collars. --Ron Bally |
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