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Random Selection From My Collection: Tell Me, Baby, Walter Hyatt

While I stubbornly chose to ignore all forms of electronica prior to, viagra usa look uhm, pills actually listening to it (I know, aghast!), I was nonetheless aware of its mainstream acts in the 90s, including The Chemical Brothers, Massive Attack, The Prodigy, The Crystal Method and Fatboy Slim. (Much to my eventual dismay, I discovered Massive Attack’s Mezzanine far too late in life.) But what really caught my attention during this period was the voice of Beth Orton, who was an occasional guest singer for The Chemical Brothers early in their career.

Many acts based in electronica (indiscriminately) combined elements of pop, dance, funk, acid jazz, soul and even krautrock, but Beth Orton was the first to successfully blend it with folk. Her first two full-length albums (Trailer Park in 1996 and Central Reservation in 1999) were a perfect fusion of lilting acoustic instrumentation and delicate (sometimes disquieting) digital soundscaping that defied conventional classification. (Technically, SuperPinkyMandy was her debut album, but it had an extremely limited released only in Japan.) I’ve used several songs from these albums on many mixes over the years (starting with cassettes, then MiniDiscs/DATs, then blank CDs, then iTunes Playlists – yes, I’m that old.)

Orton released two more albums, Daybreaker in 2002 and Comfort of Stranger in 2006, but I didn’t quite connect to them as much as the first two. Starting with Daybreaker and fully realized in Comfort of Stranger, her song-stylings became more alt-folk and pop, and far less electronica. If it weren’t for her voice, there really wouldn’t be anything particularly remarkable, but what a voice it is – soulful, haunting and vulnerable with echoes of Dusty Springfield.

Orton’s next album is scheduled for end of 2009.

She Cries Your Name, Beth Orton.
Don’t Need A Reason, Beth Orton.
Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton.
Central Reservation, Beth Orton.



While I stubbornly chose to ignore all forms of electronica prior to, viagra usa look uhm, pills actually listening to it (I know, aghast!), I was nonetheless aware of its mainstream acts in the 90s, including The Chemical Brothers, Massive Attack, The Prodigy, The Crystal Method and Fatboy Slim. (Much to my eventual dismay, I discovered Massive Attack’s Mezzanine far too late in life.) But what really caught my attention during this period was the voice of Beth Orton, who was an occasional guest singer for The Chemical Brothers early in their career.

Many acts based in electronica (indiscriminately) combined elements of pop, dance, funk, acid jazz, soul and even krautrock, but Beth Orton was the first to successfully blend it with folk. Her first two full-length albums (Trailer Park in 1996 and Central Reservation in 1999) were a perfect fusion of lilting acoustic instrumentation and delicate (sometimes disquieting) digital soundscaping that defied conventional classification. (Technically, SuperPinkyMandy was her debut album, but it had an extremely limited released only in Japan.) I’ve used several songs from these albums on many mixes over the years (starting with cassettes, then MiniDiscs/DATs, then blank CDs, then iTunes Playlists – yes, I’m that old.)

Orton released two more albums, Daybreaker in 2002 and Comfort of Stranger in 2006, but I didn’t quite connect to them as much as the first two. Starting with Daybreaker and fully realized in Comfort of Stranger, her song-stylings became more alt-folk and pop, and far less electronica. If it weren’t for her voice, there really wouldn’t be anything particularly remarkable, but what a voice it is – soulful, haunting and vulnerable with echoes of Dusty Springfield.

Orton’s next album is scheduled for end of 2009.

She Cries Your Name, Beth Orton.
Don’t Need A Reason, Beth Orton.
Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton.
Central Reservation, Beth Orton.


Seriously, viagra sales doctor who doesn’t love the cello? One of very few instruments that somehow manage to have a majestic yet intimate quality, best cialis the cello just makes me feel…good. Its timbre is as unmistakable as its resonance is deep. While most people inevitably associate the cello to Classical music and in turn to one of its most popular figures, Yo-Yo Ma, it’s actually quite satisfying to hear it used in other genres. Admittedly, Yo-Yo Ma himself has a long history of incorporating it in his genre-bending albums, but I had never heard it featured in popular music until I came across Ben Sollee’s Learning to Bend album from 2008. Despite what may seem like a handicap, he seamlessly blended Americana, Jazz and even a hint of R&B (the real kind, of course).

A few years ago, I attended a concert at one of my favorite venues in Chicago, The Old Town School of Folk Music, and was completely mesmerized by the opening act, Abigail Washburn (also a member of Uncle Earl, whose Waterloo, Tennessee album is one of the best contemporary old-time country/bluegrass albums in recent years). It was through her incredible debut solo album, Song of the Traveling Daughter, that I first heard of Sollee. While his cello is heard on every song, I was too transfixed by Washburn’s voice and banjo (or maybe it was the occasional bluegrass song she sang in Mandarin…) to give any further thought to Sollee himself. He later joined Washburn’s Sparrow Quartet band, alongside Bela Fleck and Casey Driessen.

Learning to Bend was released a few months later and it immediately became one of my favorite albums of the year. The combination of unique instrumentation, earnest lyrics and soulful delivery demanded repeated listening – and I complied.

A few honest words, Ben Sollee. A plaintive, almost meditative plea for politicians (and probably Bush in particular) to be…real. The plucked cello and dirge-like fiddle set the perfect atmosphere. One of my favorite tracks from 2008.

How to see the sun rise, Ben Sollee. Jazz- and Soul-influenced, Sollee urges a former lover to give him a second chance and teach him how to…

hold a bird in my hand and watch it grow
See those feathers bloom
But don’t let it fly
Even though that’s what it’s supposed to do

It’s not impossible, Ben Sollee. While the lyrics lament societal expectations for boys to not cry, what initially grabbed my attention was the lively instrumentation straight out of Bela Fleck and the Flecktones (minus Wooten’s driving bass). And yes, that is Bela on banjo.

The entire album is wonderful, and it was just released on vinyl – so get it!

I also highly recommend Abigail Washburn’s beautiful Song of the Traveling Daughter album.

Sometimes, Abigail Washburn.


While I stubbornly chose to ignore all forms of electronica prior to, viagra usa look uhm, pills actually listening to it (I know, aghast!), I was nonetheless aware of its mainstream acts in the 90s, including The Chemical Brothers, Massive Attack, The Prodigy, The Crystal Method and Fatboy Slim. (Much to my eventual dismay, I discovered Massive Attack’s Mezzanine far too late in life.) But what really caught my attention during this period was the voice of Beth Orton, who was an occasional guest singer for The Chemical Brothers early in their career.

Many acts based in electronica (indiscriminately) combined elements of pop, dance, funk, acid jazz, soul and even krautrock, but Beth Orton was the first to successfully blend it with folk. Her first two full-length albums (Trailer Park in 1996 and Central Reservation in 1999) were a perfect fusion of lilting acoustic instrumentation and delicate (sometimes disquieting) digital soundscaping that defied conventional classification. (Technically, SuperPinkyMandy was her debut album, but it had an extremely limited released only in Japan.) I’ve used several songs from these albums on many mixes over the years (starting with cassettes, then MiniDiscs/DATs, then blank CDs, then iTunes Playlists – yes, I’m that old.)

Orton released two more albums, Daybreaker in 2002 and Comfort of Stranger in 2006, but I didn’t quite connect to them as much as the first two. Starting with Daybreaker and fully realized in Comfort of Stranger, her song-stylings became more alt-folk and pop, and far less electronica. If it weren’t for her voice, there really wouldn’t be anything particularly remarkable, but what a voice it is – soulful, haunting and vulnerable with echoes of Dusty Springfield.

Orton’s next album is scheduled for end of 2009.

She Cries Your Name, Beth Orton.
Don’t Need A Reason, Beth Orton.
Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton.
Central Reservation, Beth Orton.


Seriously, viagra sales doctor who doesn’t love the cello? One of very few instruments that somehow manage to have a majestic yet intimate quality, best cialis the cello just makes me feel…good. Its timbre is as unmistakable as its resonance is deep. While most people inevitably associate the cello to Classical music and in turn to one of its most popular figures, Yo-Yo Ma, it’s actually quite satisfying to hear it used in other genres. Admittedly, Yo-Yo Ma himself has a long history of incorporating it in his genre-bending albums, but I had never heard it featured in popular music until I came across Ben Sollee’s Learning to Bend album from 2008. Despite what may seem like a handicap, he seamlessly blended Americana, Jazz and even a hint of R&B (the real kind, of course).

A few years ago, I attended a concert at one of my favorite venues in Chicago, The Old Town School of Folk Music, and was completely mesmerized by the opening act, Abigail Washburn (also a member of Uncle Earl, whose Waterloo, Tennessee album is one of the best contemporary old-time country/bluegrass albums in recent years). It was through her incredible debut solo album, Song of the Traveling Daughter, that I first heard of Sollee. While his cello is heard on every song, I was too transfixed by Washburn’s voice and banjo (or maybe it was the occasional bluegrass song she sang in Mandarin…) to give any further thought to Sollee himself. He later joined Washburn’s Sparrow Quartet band, alongside Bela Fleck and Casey Driessen.

Learning to Bend was released a few months later and it immediately became one of my favorite albums of the year. The combination of unique instrumentation, earnest lyrics and soulful delivery demanded repeated listening – and I complied.

A few honest words, Ben Sollee. A plaintive, almost meditative plea for politicians (and probably Bush in particular) to be…real. The plucked cello and dirge-like fiddle set the perfect atmosphere. One of my favorite tracks from 2008.

How to see the sun rise, Ben Sollee. Jazz- and Soul-influenced, Sollee urges a former lover to give him a second chance and teach him how to…

hold a bird in my hand and watch it grow
See those feathers bloom
But don’t let it fly
Even though that’s what it’s supposed to do

It’s not impossible, Ben Sollee. While the lyrics lament societal expectations for boys to not cry, what initially grabbed my attention was the lively instrumentation straight out of Bela Fleck and the Flecktones (minus Wooten’s driving bass). And yes, that is Bela on banjo.

The entire album is wonderful, and it was just released on vinyl – so get it!

I also highly recommend Abigail Washburn’s beautiful Song of the Traveling Daughter album.

Sometimes, Abigail Washburn.


Seriously, viagra sales health who doesn’t love the cello? One of very few instruments that somehow manage to have a majestic yet intimate quality, the cello just makes me feel…good. Its timbre is as unmistakable as its resonance is deep. While most people inevitably associate the cello to Classical music and in turn to one of its most popular figures, Yo-Yo Ma, it’s actually quite satisfying to hear it used in other genres. Admittedly, Yo-Yo Ma himself has a long history of incorporating it in his genre-bending albums, but I had never heard it featured in popular music until I came across Ben Sollee’s Learning to Bend album from 2008. Despite what may seem like a handicap, he seamlessly blended Americana, Jazz and even a hint of R&B (the real kind, of course).

A few years ago, I attended a concert at one of my favorite venues in Chicago, The Old Town School of Folk Music, and was completely mesmerized by the opening act, Abigail Washburn (also a member of Uncle Earl, whose Waterloo, Tennessee album is one of the best contemporary old-time country/bluegrass albums in recent years). It was through her incredible debut solo album, Song of the Traveling Daughter, that I first heard of Sollee. While his cello is heard on every song, I was too transfixed by Washburn’s voice and banjo (or maybe it was the occasional bluegrass song she sang in Mandarin…) to give any further thought to Sollee himself. He later joined Washburn’s Sparrow Quartet band, alongside Bela Fleck and Casey Driessen.

Learning to Bend was released a few months later and it immediately became one of my favorite albums of the year. The combination of unique instrumentation, earnest lyrics and soulful delivery demanded repeated listening – and I complied.

A few honest words, Ben Sollee. A plaintive, almost meditative plea for politicians (and probably Bush in particular) to be…real. The plucked cello and dirge-like fiddle set the perfect atmosphere. One of my favorite tracks from 2008.

How to see the sun rise, Ben Sollee. Jazz- and Soul-influenced, Sollee urges a former lover to give him a second chance and teach him how to…

hold a bird in my hand and watch it grow
See those feathers bloom
But don’t let it fly
Even though that’s what it’s supposed to do

It’s not impossible, Ben Sollee. While the lyrics lament societal expectations for boys to not cry, what initially grabbed my attention was the lively instrumentation straight out of Bela Fleck and the Flecktones (minus Wooten’s driving bass). And yes, that is Bela on banjo.

The entire album is wonderful, and it was just released on vinyl – so get it!

I also highly recommend Abigail Washburn’s beautiful Song of the Traveling Daughter album.

Sometimes, Abigail Washburn.


While I stubbornly chose to ignore all forms of electronica prior to, viagra usa look uhm, pills actually listening to it (I know, aghast!), I was nonetheless aware of its mainstream acts in the 90s, including The Chemical Brothers, Massive Attack, The Prodigy, The Crystal Method and Fatboy Slim. (Much to my eventual dismay, I discovered Massive Attack’s Mezzanine far too late in life.) But what really caught my attention during this period was the voice of Beth Orton, who was an occasional guest singer for The Chemical Brothers early in their career.

Many acts based in electronica (indiscriminately) combined elements of pop, dance, funk, acid jazz, soul and even krautrock, but Beth Orton was the first to successfully blend it with folk. Her first two full-length albums (Trailer Park in 1996 and Central Reservation in 1999) were a perfect fusion of lilting acoustic instrumentation and delicate (sometimes disquieting) digital soundscaping that defied conventional classification. (Technically, SuperPinkyMandy was her debut album, but it had an extremely limited released only in Japan.) I’ve used several songs from these albums on many mixes over the years (starting with cassettes, then MiniDiscs/DATs, then blank CDs, then iTunes Playlists – yes, I’m that old.)

Orton released two more albums, Daybreaker in 2002 and Comfort of Stranger in 2006, but I didn’t quite connect to them as much as the first two. Starting with Daybreaker and fully realized in Comfort of Stranger, her song-stylings became more alt-folk and pop, and far less electronica. If it weren’t for her voice, there really wouldn’t be anything particularly remarkable, but what a voice it is – soulful, haunting and vulnerable with echoes of Dusty Springfield.

Orton’s next album is scheduled for end of 2009.

She Cries Your Name, Beth Orton.
Don’t Need A Reason, Beth Orton.
Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton.
Central Reservation, Beth Orton.


Seriously, viagra sales doctor who doesn’t love the cello? One of very few instruments that somehow manage to have a majestic yet intimate quality, best cialis the cello just makes me feel…good. Its timbre is as unmistakable as its resonance is deep. While most people inevitably associate the cello to Classical music and in turn to one of its most popular figures, Yo-Yo Ma, it’s actually quite satisfying to hear it used in other genres. Admittedly, Yo-Yo Ma himself has a long history of incorporating it in his genre-bending albums, but I had never heard it featured in popular music until I came across Ben Sollee’s Learning to Bend album from 2008. Despite what may seem like a handicap, he seamlessly blended Americana, Jazz and even a hint of R&B (the real kind, of course).

A few years ago, I attended a concert at one of my favorite venues in Chicago, The Old Town School of Folk Music, and was completely mesmerized by the opening act, Abigail Washburn (also a member of Uncle Earl, whose Waterloo, Tennessee album is one of the best contemporary old-time country/bluegrass albums in recent years). It was through her incredible debut solo album, Song of the Traveling Daughter, that I first heard of Sollee. While his cello is heard on every song, I was too transfixed by Washburn’s voice and banjo (or maybe it was the occasional bluegrass song she sang in Mandarin…) to give any further thought to Sollee himself. He later joined Washburn’s Sparrow Quartet band, alongside Bela Fleck and Casey Driessen.

Learning to Bend was released a few months later and it immediately became one of my favorite albums of the year. The combination of unique instrumentation, earnest lyrics and soulful delivery demanded repeated listening – and I complied.

A few honest words, Ben Sollee. A plaintive, almost meditative plea for politicians (and probably Bush in particular) to be…real. The plucked cello and dirge-like fiddle set the perfect atmosphere. One of my favorite tracks from 2008.

How to see the sun rise, Ben Sollee. Jazz- and Soul-influenced, Sollee urges a former lover to give him a second chance and teach him how to…

hold a bird in my hand and watch it grow
See those feathers bloom
But don’t let it fly
Even though that’s what it’s supposed to do

It’s not impossible, Ben Sollee. While the lyrics lament societal expectations for boys to not cry, what initially grabbed my attention was the lively instrumentation straight out of Bela Fleck and the Flecktones (minus Wooten’s driving bass). And yes, that is Bela on banjo.

The entire album is wonderful, and it was just released on vinyl – so get it!

I also highly recommend Abigail Washburn’s beautiful Song of the Traveling Daughter album.

Sometimes, Abigail Washburn.


Seriously, viagra sales health who doesn’t love the cello? One of very few instruments that somehow manage to have a majestic yet intimate quality, the cello just makes me feel…good. Its timbre is as unmistakable as its resonance is deep. While most people inevitably associate the cello to Classical music and in turn to one of its most popular figures, Yo-Yo Ma, it’s actually quite satisfying to hear it used in other genres. Admittedly, Yo-Yo Ma himself has a long history of incorporating it in his genre-bending albums, but I had never heard it featured in popular music until I came across Ben Sollee’s Learning to Bend album from 2008. Despite what may seem like a handicap, he seamlessly blended Americana, Jazz and even a hint of R&B (the real kind, of course).

A few years ago, I attended a concert at one of my favorite venues in Chicago, The Old Town School of Folk Music, and was completely mesmerized by the opening act, Abigail Washburn (also a member of Uncle Earl, whose Waterloo, Tennessee album is one of the best contemporary old-time country/bluegrass albums in recent years). It was through her incredible debut solo album, Song of the Traveling Daughter, that I first heard of Sollee. While his cello is heard on every song, I was too transfixed by Washburn’s voice and banjo (or maybe it was the occasional bluegrass song she sang in Mandarin…) to give any further thought to Sollee himself. He later joined Washburn’s Sparrow Quartet band, alongside Bela Fleck and Casey Driessen.

Learning to Bend was released a few months later and it immediately became one of my favorite albums of the year. The combination of unique instrumentation, earnest lyrics and soulful delivery demanded repeated listening – and I complied.

A few honest words, Ben Sollee. A plaintive, almost meditative plea for politicians (and probably Bush in particular) to be…real. The plucked cello and dirge-like fiddle set the perfect atmosphere. One of my favorite tracks from 2008.

How to see the sun rise, Ben Sollee. Jazz- and Soul-influenced, Sollee urges a former lover to give him a second chance and teach him how to…

hold a bird in my hand and watch it grow
See those feathers bloom
But don’t let it fly
Even though that’s what it’s supposed to do

It’s not impossible, Ben Sollee. While the lyrics lament societal expectations for boys to not cry, what initially grabbed my attention was the lively instrumentation straight out of Bela Fleck and the Flecktones (minus Wooten’s driving bass). And yes, that is Bela on banjo.

The entire album is wonderful, and it was just released on vinyl – so get it!

I also highly recommend Abigail Washburn’s beautiful Song of the Traveling Daughter album.

Sometimes, Abigail Washburn.


While I stubbornly chose to ignore all forms of electronica prior to, viagra sale link
uhm, buy viagra actually listening to it (I know, aghast!), I was nonetheless aware of its mainstream acts in the 90s, including The Chemical Brothers, Massive Attack, The Prodigy, The Crystal Method and Fatboy Slim. (Much to my eventual dismay, I discovered Massive Attack’s Mezzanine far too late in life.) But what really caught my attention during this period was the voice of Beth Orton, who was an occasional guest singer for The Chemical Brothers early in their career.

Many acts based in electronica (indiscriminately) combined elements of pop, dance, funk, acid jazz, soul and even krautrock, but Beth Orton was the first to successfully blend it with folk. Her first two full-length albums (Trailer Park in 1996 and Central Reservation in 1999) were a perfect fusion of lilting acoustic instrumentation and delicate (sometimes disquieting) digital soundscaping that defied conventional classification. (Technically, SuperPinkyMandy was her debut album, but it had an extremely limited released only in Japan.) I’ve used several songs from these albums on many mixes over the years (starting with cassettes, then MiniDiscs/DATs, then blank CDs, then iTunes Playlists – yes, I’m that old.)

Orton released two more albums, Daybreaker in 2002 and Comfort of Stranger in 2006, but I didn’t quite connect to them as much as the first two. Starting with Daybreaker and fully realized in Comfort of Stranger, her song-stylings became more alt-folk and pop, and far less electronica. If it weren’t for her voice, there really wouldn’t be anything particularly remarkable, but what a voice it is – soulful, haunting and vulnerable with echoes of Dusty Springfield.

Orton’s next album is scheduled for end of 2009.

She Cries Your Name, Beth Orton.
Don’t Need A Reason, Beth Orton.
Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton.
Central Reservation, Beth Orton.


While I stubbornly chose to ignore all forms of electronica prior to, viagra usa look uhm, pills actually listening to it (I know, aghast!), I was nonetheless aware of its mainstream acts in the 90s, including The Chemical Brothers, Massive Attack, The Prodigy, The Crystal Method and Fatboy Slim. (Much to my eventual dismay, I discovered Massive Attack’s Mezzanine far too late in life.) But what really caught my attention during this period was the voice of Beth Orton, who was an occasional guest singer for The Chemical Brothers early in their career.

Many acts based in electronica (indiscriminately) combined elements of pop, dance, funk, acid jazz, soul and even krautrock, but Beth Orton was the first to successfully blend it with folk. Her first two full-length albums (Trailer Park in 1996 and Central Reservation in 1999) were a perfect fusion of lilting acoustic instrumentation and delicate (sometimes disquieting) digital soundscaping that defied conventional classification. (Technically, SuperPinkyMandy was her debut album, but it had an extremely limited released only in Japan.) I’ve used several songs from these albums on many mixes over the years (starting with cassettes, then MiniDiscs/DATs, then blank CDs, then iTunes Playlists – yes, I’m that old.)

Orton released two more albums, Daybreaker in 2002 and Comfort of Stranger in 2006, but I didn’t quite connect to them as much as the first two. Starting with Daybreaker and fully realized in Comfort of Stranger, her song-stylings became more alt-folk and pop, and far less electronica. If it weren’t for her voice, there really wouldn’t be anything particularly remarkable, but what a voice it is – soulful, haunting and vulnerable with echoes of Dusty Springfield.

Orton’s next album is scheduled for end of 2009.

She Cries Your Name, Beth Orton.
Don’t Need A Reason, Beth Orton.
Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton.
Central Reservation, Beth Orton.


Seriously, viagra sales doctor who doesn’t love the cello? One of very few instruments that somehow manage to have a majestic yet intimate quality, best cialis the cello just makes me feel…good. Its timbre is as unmistakable as its resonance is deep. While most people inevitably associate the cello to Classical music and in turn to one of its most popular figures, Yo-Yo Ma, it’s actually quite satisfying to hear it used in other genres. Admittedly, Yo-Yo Ma himself has a long history of incorporating it in his genre-bending albums, but I had never heard it featured in popular music until I came across Ben Sollee’s Learning to Bend album from 2008. Despite what may seem like a handicap, he seamlessly blended Americana, Jazz and even a hint of R&B (the real kind, of course).

A few years ago, I attended a concert at one of my favorite venues in Chicago, The Old Town School of Folk Music, and was completely mesmerized by the opening act, Abigail Washburn (also a member of Uncle Earl, whose Waterloo, Tennessee album is one of the best contemporary old-time country/bluegrass albums in recent years). It was through her incredible debut solo album, Song of the Traveling Daughter, that I first heard of Sollee. While his cello is heard on every song, I was too transfixed by Washburn’s voice and banjo (or maybe it was the occasional bluegrass song she sang in Mandarin…) to give any further thought to Sollee himself. He later joined Washburn’s Sparrow Quartet band, alongside Bela Fleck and Casey Driessen.

Learning to Bend was released a few months later and it immediately became one of my favorite albums of the year. The combination of unique instrumentation, earnest lyrics and soulful delivery demanded repeated listening – and I complied.

A few honest words, Ben Sollee. A plaintive, almost meditative plea for politicians (and probably Bush in particular) to be…real. The plucked cello and dirge-like fiddle set the perfect atmosphere. One of my favorite tracks from 2008.

How to see the sun rise, Ben Sollee. Jazz- and Soul-influenced, Sollee urges a former lover to give him a second chance and teach him how to…

hold a bird in my hand and watch it grow
See those feathers bloom
But don’t let it fly
Even though that’s what it’s supposed to do

It’s not impossible, Ben Sollee. While the lyrics lament societal expectations for boys to not cry, what initially grabbed my attention was the lively instrumentation straight out of Bela Fleck and the Flecktones (minus Wooten’s driving bass). And yes, that is Bela on banjo.

The entire album is wonderful, and it was just released on vinyl – so get it!

I also highly recommend Abigail Washburn’s beautiful Song of the Traveling Daughter album.

Sometimes, Abigail Washburn.


Seriously, viagra sales health who doesn’t love the cello? One of very few instruments that somehow manage to have a majestic yet intimate quality, the cello just makes me feel…good. Its timbre is as unmistakable as its resonance is deep. While most people inevitably associate the cello to Classical music and in turn to one of its most popular figures, Yo-Yo Ma, it’s actually quite satisfying to hear it used in other genres. Admittedly, Yo-Yo Ma himself has a long history of incorporating it in his genre-bending albums, but I had never heard it featured in popular music until I came across Ben Sollee’s Learning to Bend album from 2008. Despite what may seem like a handicap, he seamlessly blended Americana, Jazz and even a hint of R&B (the real kind, of course).

A few years ago, I attended a concert at one of my favorite venues in Chicago, The Old Town School of Folk Music, and was completely mesmerized by the opening act, Abigail Washburn (also a member of Uncle Earl, whose Waterloo, Tennessee album is one of the best contemporary old-time country/bluegrass albums in recent years). It was through her incredible debut solo album, Song of the Traveling Daughter, that I first heard of Sollee. While his cello is heard on every song, I was too transfixed by Washburn’s voice and banjo (or maybe it was the occasional bluegrass song she sang in Mandarin…) to give any further thought to Sollee himself. He later joined Washburn’s Sparrow Quartet band, alongside Bela Fleck and Casey Driessen.

Learning to Bend was released a few months later and it immediately became one of my favorite albums of the year. The combination of unique instrumentation, earnest lyrics and soulful delivery demanded repeated listening – and I complied.

A few honest words, Ben Sollee. A plaintive, almost meditative plea for politicians (and probably Bush in particular) to be…real. The plucked cello and dirge-like fiddle set the perfect atmosphere. One of my favorite tracks from 2008.

How to see the sun rise, Ben Sollee. Jazz- and Soul-influenced, Sollee urges a former lover to give him a second chance and teach him how to…

hold a bird in my hand and watch it grow
See those feathers bloom
But don’t let it fly
Even though that’s what it’s supposed to do

It’s not impossible, Ben Sollee. While the lyrics lament societal expectations for boys to not cry, what initially grabbed my attention was the lively instrumentation straight out of Bela Fleck and the Flecktones (minus Wooten’s driving bass). And yes, that is Bela on banjo.

The entire album is wonderful, and it was just released on vinyl – so get it!

I also highly recommend Abigail Washburn’s beautiful Song of the Traveling Daughter album.

Sometimes, Abigail Washburn.


While I stubbornly chose to ignore all forms of electronica prior to, viagra sale link
uhm, buy viagra actually listening to it (I know, aghast!), I was nonetheless aware of its mainstream acts in the 90s, including The Chemical Brothers, Massive Attack, The Prodigy, The Crystal Method and Fatboy Slim. (Much to my eventual dismay, I discovered Massive Attack’s Mezzanine far too late in life.) But what really caught my attention during this period was the voice of Beth Orton, who was an occasional guest singer for The Chemical Brothers early in their career.

Many acts based in electronica (indiscriminately) combined elements of pop, dance, funk, acid jazz, soul and even krautrock, but Beth Orton was the first to successfully blend it with folk. Her first two full-length albums (Trailer Park in 1996 and Central Reservation in 1999) were a perfect fusion of lilting acoustic instrumentation and delicate (sometimes disquieting) digital soundscaping that defied conventional classification. (Technically, SuperPinkyMandy was her debut album, but it had an extremely limited released only in Japan.) I’ve used several songs from these albums on many mixes over the years (starting with cassettes, then MiniDiscs/DATs, then blank CDs, then iTunes Playlists – yes, I’m that old.)

Orton released two more albums, Daybreaker in 2002 and Comfort of Stranger in 2006, but I didn’t quite connect to them as much as the first two. Starting with Daybreaker and fully realized in Comfort of Stranger, her song-stylings became more alt-folk and pop, and far less electronica. If it weren’t for her voice, there really wouldn’t be anything particularly remarkable, but what a voice it is – soulful, haunting and vulnerable with echoes of Dusty Springfield.

Orton’s next album is scheduled for end of 2009.

She Cries Your Name, Beth Orton.
Don’t Need A Reason, Beth Orton.
Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton.
Central Reservation, Beth Orton.


While I stubbornly chose to ignore all forms of electronica prior to, sildenafil ask uhm, order actually listening to it (I know, diagnosis aghast!), I was nonetheless aware of its mainstream acts in the 90s, including The Chemical Brothers, Massive Attack, The Prodigy, The Crystal Method and Fatboy Slim. (Much to my eventual dismay, I discovered Massive Attack’s Mezzanine far too late in life.) But what really caught my attention during this period was the voice of Beth Orton, who was an occasional guest singer for The Chemical Brothers early in their career.

Many acts based in electronica (indiscriminately) combined elements of pop, dance, funk, acid jazz, soul and even krautrock, but Beth Orton was the first to successfully blend it with folk. Her first two full-length albums (Trailer Park in 1996 and Central Reservation in 1999) were a perfect fusion of lilting acoustic instrumentation and delicate (sometimes disquieting) digital soundscaping that defied conventional classification. (Technically, SuperPinkyMandy was her debut album, but it had an extremely limited released only in Japan.) I’ve used several songs from these albums on many mixes over the years (starting with cassettes, then MiniDiscs/DATs, then blank CDs, then iTunes Playlists – yes, I’m that old.)

Orton released two more albums, Daybreaker in 2002 and Comfort of Stranger in 2006, but I didn’t quite connect to them as much as the first two. Starting with Daybreaker and fully realized in Comfort of Stranger, her song-stylings became more alt-folk and pop, and far less electronica. If it weren’t for her voice, there really wouldn’t be anything particularly remarkable, but what a voice it is – soulful, haunting and vulnerable with echoes of Dusty Springfield.

Orton’s next album is scheduled for end of 2009.

She Cries Your Name, Beth Orton.
Don’t Need A Reason, Beth Orton.
Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton.
Central Reservation, Beth Orton.


While I stubbornly chose to ignore all forms of electronica prior to, viagra usa look uhm, pills actually listening to it (I know, aghast!), I was nonetheless aware of its mainstream acts in the 90s, including The Chemical Brothers, Massive Attack, The Prodigy, The Crystal Method and Fatboy Slim. (Much to my eventual dismay, I discovered Massive Attack’s Mezzanine far too late in life.) But what really caught my attention during this period was the voice of Beth Orton, who was an occasional guest singer for The Chemical Brothers early in their career.

Many acts based in electronica (indiscriminately) combined elements of pop, dance, funk, acid jazz, soul and even krautrock, but Beth Orton was the first to successfully blend it with folk. Her first two full-length albums (Trailer Park in 1996 and Central Reservation in 1999) were a perfect fusion of lilting acoustic instrumentation and delicate (sometimes disquieting) digital soundscaping that defied conventional classification. (Technically, SuperPinkyMandy was her debut album, but it had an extremely limited released only in Japan.) I’ve used several songs from these albums on many mixes over the years (starting with cassettes, then MiniDiscs/DATs, then blank CDs, then iTunes Playlists – yes, I’m that old.)

Orton released two more albums, Daybreaker in 2002 and Comfort of Stranger in 2006, but I didn’t quite connect to them as much as the first two. Starting with Daybreaker and fully realized in Comfort of Stranger, her song-stylings became more alt-folk and pop, and far less electronica. If it weren’t for her voice, there really wouldn’t be anything particularly remarkable, but what a voice it is – soulful, haunting and vulnerable with echoes of Dusty Springfield.

Orton’s next album is scheduled for end of 2009.

She Cries Your Name, Beth Orton.
Don’t Need A Reason, Beth Orton.
Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton.
Central Reservation, Beth Orton.


Seriously, viagra sales doctor who doesn’t love the cello? One of very few instruments that somehow manage to have a majestic yet intimate quality, best cialis the cello just makes me feel…good. Its timbre is as unmistakable as its resonance is deep. While most people inevitably associate the cello to Classical music and in turn to one of its most popular figures, Yo-Yo Ma, it’s actually quite satisfying to hear it used in other genres. Admittedly, Yo-Yo Ma himself has a long history of incorporating it in his genre-bending albums, but I had never heard it featured in popular music until I came across Ben Sollee’s Learning to Bend album from 2008. Despite what may seem like a handicap, he seamlessly blended Americana, Jazz and even a hint of R&B (the real kind, of course).

A few years ago, I attended a concert at one of my favorite venues in Chicago, The Old Town School of Folk Music, and was completely mesmerized by the opening act, Abigail Washburn (also a member of Uncle Earl, whose Waterloo, Tennessee album is one of the best contemporary old-time country/bluegrass albums in recent years). It was through her incredible debut solo album, Song of the Traveling Daughter, that I first heard of Sollee. While his cello is heard on every song, I was too transfixed by Washburn’s voice and banjo (or maybe it was the occasional bluegrass song she sang in Mandarin…) to give any further thought to Sollee himself. He later joined Washburn’s Sparrow Quartet band, alongside Bela Fleck and Casey Driessen.

Learning to Bend was released a few months later and it immediately became one of my favorite albums of the year. The combination of unique instrumentation, earnest lyrics and soulful delivery demanded repeated listening – and I complied.

A few honest words, Ben Sollee. A plaintive, almost meditative plea for politicians (and probably Bush in particular) to be…real. The plucked cello and dirge-like fiddle set the perfect atmosphere. One of my favorite tracks from 2008.

How to see the sun rise, Ben Sollee. Jazz- and Soul-influenced, Sollee urges a former lover to give him a second chance and teach him how to…

hold a bird in my hand and watch it grow
See those feathers bloom
But don’t let it fly
Even though that’s what it’s supposed to do

It’s not impossible, Ben Sollee. While the lyrics lament societal expectations for boys to not cry, what initially grabbed my attention was the lively instrumentation straight out of Bela Fleck and the Flecktones (minus Wooten’s driving bass). And yes, that is Bela on banjo.

The entire album is wonderful, and it was just released on vinyl – so get it!

I also highly recommend Abigail Washburn’s beautiful Song of the Traveling Daughter album.

Sometimes, Abigail Washburn.


Seriously, viagra sales health who doesn’t love the cello? One of very few instruments that somehow manage to have a majestic yet intimate quality, the cello just makes me feel…good. Its timbre is as unmistakable as its resonance is deep. While most people inevitably associate the cello to Classical music and in turn to one of its most popular figures, Yo-Yo Ma, it’s actually quite satisfying to hear it used in other genres. Admittedly, Yo-Yo Ma himself has a long history of incorporating it in his genre-bending albums, but I had never heard it featured in popular music until I came across Ben Sollee’s Learning to Bend album from 2008. Despite what may seem like a handicap, he seamlessly blended Americana, Jazz and even a hint of R&B (the real kind, of course).

A few years ago, I attended a concert at one of my favorite venues in Chicago, The Old Town School of Folk Music, and was completely mesmerized by the opening act, Abigail Washburn (also a member of Uncle Earl, whose Waterloo, Tennessee album is one of the best contemporary old-time country/bluegrass albums in recent years). It was through her incredible debut solo album, Song of the Traveling Daughter, that I first heard of Sollee. While his cello is heard on every song, I was too transfixed by Washburn’s voice and banjo (or maybe it was the occasional bluegrass song she sang in Mandarin…) to give any further thought to Sollee himself. He later joined Washburn’s Sparrow Quartet band, alongside Bela Fleck and Casey Driessen.

Learning to Bend was released a few months later and it immediately became one of my favorite albums of the year. The combination of unique instrumentation, earnest lyrics and soulful delivery demanded repeated listening – and I complied.

A few honest words, Ben Sollee. A plaintive, almost meditative plea for politicians (and probably Bush in particular) to be…real. The plucked cello and dirge-like fiddle set the perfect atmosphere. One of my favorite tracks from 2008.

How to see the sun rise, Ben Sollee. Jazz- and Soul-influenced, Sollee urges a former lover to give him a second chance and teach him how to…

hold a bird in my hand and watch it grow
See those feathers bloom
But don’t let it fly
Even though that’s what it’s supposed to do

It’s not impossible, Ben Sollee. While the lyrics lament societal expectations for boys to not cry, what initially grabbed my attention was the lively instrumentation straight out of Bela Fleck and the Flecktones (minus Wooten’s driving bass). And yes, that is Bela on banjo.

The entire album is wonderful, and it was just released on vinyl – so get it!

I also highly recommend Abigail Washburn’s beautiful Song of the Traveling Daughter album.

Sometimes, Abigail Washburn.


While I stubbornly chose to ignore all forms of electronica prior to, viagra sale link
uhm, buy viagra actually listening to it (I know, aghast!), I was nonetheless aware of its mainstream acts in the 90s, including The Chemical Brothers, Massive Attack, The Prodigy, The Crystal Method and Fatboy Slim. (Much to my eventual dismay, I discovered Massive Attack’s Mezzanine far too late in life.) But what really caught my attention during this period was the voice of Beth Orton, who was an occasional guest singer for The Chemical Brothers early in their career.

Many acts based in electronica (indiscriminately) combined elements of pop, dance, funk, acid jazz, soul and even krautrock, but Beth Orton was the first to successfully blend it with folk. Her first two full-length albums (Trailer Park in 1996 and Central Reservation in 1999) were a perfect fusion of lilting acoustic instrumentation and delicate (sometimes disquieting) digital soundscaping that defied conventional classification. (Technically, SuperPinkyMandy was her debut album, but it had an extremely limited released only in Japan.) I’ve used several songs from these albums on many mixes over the years (starting with cassettes, then MiniDiscs/DATs, then blank CDs, then iTunes Playlists – yes, I’m that old.)

Orton released two more albums, Daybreaker in 2002 and Comfort of Stranger in 2006, but I didn’t quite connect to them as much as the first two. Starting with Daybreaker and fully realized in Comfort of Stranger, her song-stylings became more alt-folk and pop, and far less electronica. If it weren’t for her voice, there really wouldn’t be anything particularly remarkable, but what a voice it is – soulful, haunting and vulnerable with echoes of Dusty Springfield.

Orton’s next album is scheduled for end of 2009.

She Cries Your Name, Beth Orton.
Don’t Need A Reason, Beth Orton.
Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton.
Central Reservation, Beth Orton.


While I stubbornly chose to ignore all forms of electronica prior to, sildenafil ask uhm, order actually listening to it (I know, diagnosis aghast!), I was nonetheless aware of its mainstream acts in the 90s, including The Chemical Brothers, Massive Attack, The Prodigy, The Crystal Method and Fatboy Slim. (Much to my eventual dismay, I discovered Massive Attack’s Mezzanine far too late in life.) But what really caught my attention during this period was the voice of Beth Orton, who was an occasional guest singer for The Chemical Brothers early in their career.

Many acts based in electronica (indiscriminately) combined elements of pop, dance, funk, acid jazz, soul and even krautrock, but Beth Orton was the first to successfully blend it with folk. Her first two full-length albums (Trailer Park in 1996 and Central Reservation in 1999) were a perfect fusion of lilting acoustic instrumentation and delicate (sometimes disquieting) digital soundscaping that defied conventional classification. (Technically, SuperPinkyMandy was her debut album, but it had an extremely limited released only in Japan.) I’ve used several songs from these albums on many mixes over the years (starting with cassettes, then MiniDiscs/DATs, then blank CDs, then iTunes Playlists – yes, I’m that old.)

Orton released two more albums, Daybreaker in 2002 and Comfort of Stranger in 2006, but I didn’t quite connect to them as much as the first two. Starting with Daybreaker and fully realized in Comfort of Stranger, her song-stylings became more alt-folk and pop, and far less electronica. If it weren’t for her voice, there really wouldn’t be anything particularly remarkable, but what a voice it is – soulful, haunting and vulnerable with echoes of Dusty Springfield.

Orton’s next album is scheduled for end of 2009.

She Cries Your Name, Beth Orton.
Don’t Need A Reason, Beth Orton.
Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton.
Central Reservation, Beth Orton.


While I stubbornly chose to ignore all forms of electronica prior to, viagra buy buy uhm, actually listening to it (I know, aghast!), I was nonetheless aware of its mainstream acts in the 90s, including The Chemical Brothers, Massive Attack, The Prodigy, The Crystal Method and Fatboy Slim. (Much to my eventual dismay, I discovered Massive Attack’s Mezzanine far too late in life.) But what really caught my attention during this period was the voice of Beth Orton, who was an occasional guest singer for The Chemical Brothers early in their career.

Many acts based in electronica (indiscriminately) combined elements of pop, dance, funk, acid jazz, soul and even krautrock, but Beth Orton was the first to successfully blend it with folk. Her first two full-length albums (Trailer Park in 1996 and Central Reservation in 1999) were a perfect fusion of lilting acoustic instrumentation and delicate (sometimes disquieting) digital soundscaping that defied conventional classification. (Technically, SuperPinkyMandy was her debut album, but it had an extremely limited released only in Japan.) I’ve used several songs from these albums on many mixes over the years (starting with cassettes, then MiniDiscs/DATs, then blank CDs, then iTunes Playlists – yes, I’m that old.)

Orton released two more albums, Daybreaker in 2002 and Comfort of Stranger in 2006, but I didn’t quite connect to them as much as the first two. Starting with Daybreaker and fully realized in Comfort of Stranger, her song-stylings became more alt-folk and pop, and far less electronica. If it weren’t for her voice, there really wouldn’t be anything particularly remarkable, but what a voice it is – soulful, haunting and vulnerable with echoes of Dusty Springfield.

Orton’s next album is scheduled for end of 2009.

She Cries Your Name, Beth Orton.
Don’t Need A Reason, Beth Orton.
Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton.
Central Reservation, Beth Orton.


While I stubbornly chose to ignore all forms of electronica prior to, viagra usa look uhm, pills actually listening to it (I know, aghast!), I was nonetheless aware of its mainstream acts in the 90s, including The Chemical Brothers, Massive Attack, The Prodigy, The Crystal Method and Fatboy Slim. (Much to my eventual dismay, I discovered Massive Attack’s Mezzanine far too late in life.) But what really caught my attention during this period was the voice of Beth Orton, who was an occasional guest singer for The Chemical Brothers early in their career.

Many acts based in electronica (indiscriminately) combined elements of pop, dance, funk, acid jazz, soul and even krautrock, but Beth Orton was the first to successfully blend it with folk. Her first two full-length albums (Trailer Park in 1996 and Central Reservation in 1999) were a perfect fusion of lilting acoustic instrumentation and delicate (sometimes disquieting) digital soundscaping that defied conventional classification. (Technically, SuperPinkyMandy was her debut album, but it had an extremely limited released only in Japan.) I’ve used several songs from these albums on many mixes over the years (starting with cassettes, then MiniDiscs/DATs, then blank CDs, then iTunes Playlists – yes, I’m that old.)

Orton released two more albums, Daybreaker in 2002 and Comfort of Stranger in 2006, but I didn’t quite connect to them as much as the first two. Starting with Daybreaker and fully realized in Comfort of Stranger, her song-stylings became more alt-folk and pop, and far less electronica. If it weren’t for her voice, there really wouldn’t be anything particularly remarkable, but what a voice it is – soulful, haunting and vulnerable with echoes of Dusty Springfield.

Orton’s next album is scheduled for end of 2009.

She Cries Your Name, Beth Orton.
Don’t Need A Reason, Beth Orton.
Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton.
Central Reservation, Beth Orton.


Seriously, viagra sales doctor who doesn’t love the cello? One of very few instruments that somehow manage to have a majestic yet intimate quality, best cialis the cello just makes me feel…good. Its timbre is as unmistakable as its resonance is deep. While most people inevitably associate the cello to Classical music and in turn to one of its most popular figures, Yo-Yo Ma, it’s actually quite satisfying to hear it used in other genres. Admittedly, Yo-Yo Ma himself has a long history of incorporating it in his genre-bending albums, but I had never heard it featured in popular music until I came across Ben Sollee’s Learning to Bend album from 2008. Despite what may seem like a handicap, he seamlessly blended Americana, Jazz and even a hint of R&B (the real kind, of course).

A few years ago, I attended a concert at one of my favorite venues in Chicago, The Old Town School of Folk Music, and was completely mesmerized by the opening act, Abigail Washburn (also a member of Uncle Earl, whose Waterloo, Tennessee album is one of the best contemporary old-time country/bluegrass albums in recent years). It was through her incredible debut solo album, Song of the Traveling Daughter, that I first heard of Sollee. While his cello is heard on every song, I was too transfixed by Washburn’s voice and banjo (or maybe it was the occasional bluegrass song she sang in Mandarin…) to give any further thought to Sollee himself. He later joined Washburn’s Sparrow Quartet band, alongside Bela Fleck and Casey Driessen.

Learning to Bend was released a few months later and it immediately became one of my favorite albums of the year. The combination of unique instrumentation, earnest lyrics and soulful delivery demanded repeated listening – and I complied.

A few honest words, Ben Sollee. A plaintive, almost meditative plea for politicians (and probably Bush in particular) to be…real. The plucked cello and dirge-like fiddle set the perfect atmosphere. One of my favorite tracks from 2008.

How to see the sun rise, Ben Sollee. Jazz- and Soul-influenced, Sollee urges a former lover to give him a second chance and teach him how to…

hold a bird in my hand and watch it grow
See those feathers bloom
But don’t let it fly
Even though that’s what it’s supposed to do

It’s not impossible, Ben Sollee. While the lyrics lament societal expectations for boys to not cry, what initially grabbed my attention was the lively instrumentation straight out of Bela Fleck and the Flecktones (minus Wooten’s driving bass). And yes, that is Bela on banjo.

The entire album is wonderful, and it was just released on vinyl – so get it!

I also highly recommend Abigail Washburn’s beautiful Song of the Traveling Daughter album.

Sometimes, Abigail Washburn.


Seriously, viagra sales health who doesn’t love the cello? One of very few instruments that somehow manage to have a majestic yet intimate quality, the cello just makes me feel…good. Its timbre is as unmistakable as its resonance is deep. While most people inevitably associate the cello to Classical music and in turn to one of its most popular figures, Yo-Yo Ma, it’s actually quite satisfying to hear it used in other genres. Admittedly, Yo-Yo Ma himself has a long history of incorporating it in his genre-bending albums, but I had never heard it featured in popular music until I came across Ben Sollee’s Learning to Bend album from 2008. Despite what may seem like a handicap, he seamlessly blended Americana, Jazz and even a hint of R&B (the real kind, of course).

A few years ago, I attended a concert at one of my favorite venues in Chicago, The Old Town School of Folk Music, and was completely mesmerized by the opening act, Abigail Washburn (also a member of Uncle Earl, whose Waterloo, Tennessee album is one of the best contemporary old-time country/bluegrass albums in recent years). It was through her incredible debut solo album, Song of the Traveling Daughter, that I first heard of Sollee. While his cello is heard on every song, I was too transfixed by Washburn’s voice and banjo (or maybe it was the occasional bluegrass song she sang in Mandarin…) to give any further thought to Sollee himself. He later joined Washburn’s Sparrow Quartet band, alongside Bela Fleck and Casey Driessen.

Learning to Bend was released a few months later and it immediately became one of my favorite albums of the year. The combination of unique instrumentation, earnest lyrics and soulful delivery demanded repeated listening – and I complied.

A few honest words, Ben Sollee. A plaintive, almost meditative plea for politicians (and probably Bush in particular) to be…real. The plucked cello and dirge-like fiddle set the perfect atmosphere. One of my favorite tracks from 2008.

How to see the sun rise, Ben Sollee. Jazz- and Soul-influenced, Sollee urges a former lover to give him a second chance and teach him how to…

hold a bird in my hand and watch it grow
See those feathers bloom
But don’t let it fly
Even though that’s what it’s supposed to do

It’s not impossible, Ben Sollee. While the lyrics lament societal expectations for boys to not cry, what initially grabbed my attention was the lively instrumentation straight out of Bela Fleck and the Flecktones (minus Wooten’s driving bass). And yes, that is Bela on banjo.

The entire album is wonderful, and it was just released on vinyl – so get it!

I also highly recommend Abigail Washburn’s beautiful Song of the Traveling Daughter album.

Sometimes, Abigail Washburn.


While I stubbornly chose to ignore all forms of electronica prior to, viagra sale link
uhm, buy viagra actually listening to it (I know, aghast!), I was nonetheless aware of its mainstream acts in the 90s, including The Chemical Brothers, Massive Attack, The Prodigy, The Crystal Method and Fatboy Slim. (Much to my eventual dismay, I discovered Massive Attack’s Mezzanine far too late in life.) But what really caught my attention during this period was the voice of Beth Orton, who was an occasional guest singer for The Chemical Brothers early in their career.

Many acts based in electronica (indiscriminately) combined elements of pop, dance, funk, acid jazz, soul and even krautrock, but Beth Orton was the first to successfully blend it with folk. Her first two full-length albums (Trailer Park in 1996 and Central Reservation in 1999) were a perfect fusion of lilting acoustic instrumentation and delicate (sometimes disquieting) digital soundscaping that defied conventional classification. (Technically, SuperPinkyMandy was her debut album, but it had an extremely limited released only in Japan.) I’ve used several songs from these albums on many mixes over the years (starting with cassettes, then MiniDiscs/DATs, then blank CDs, then iTunes Playlists – yes, I’m that old.)

Orton released two more albums, Daybreaker in 2002 and Comfort of Stranger in 2006, but I didn’t quite connect to them as much as the first two. Starting with Daybreaker and fully realized in Comfort of Stranger, her song-stylings became more alt-folk and pop, and far less electronica. If it weren’t for her voice, there really wouldn’t be anything particularly remarkable, but what a voice it is – soulful, haunting and vulnerable with echoes of Dusty Springfield.

Orton’s next album is scheduled for end of 2009.

She Cries Your Name, Beth Orton.
Don’t Need A Reason, Beth Orton.
Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton.
Central Reservation, Beth Orton.


While I stubbornly chose to ignore all forms of electronica prior to, sildenafil ask uhm, order actually listening to it (I know, diagnosis aghast!), I was nonetheless aware of its mainstream acts in the 90s, including The Chemical Brothers, Massive Attack, The Prodigy, The Crystal Method and Fatboy Slim. (Much to my eventual dismay, I discovered Massive Attack’s Mezzanine far too late in life.) But what really caught my attention during this period was the voice of Beth Orton, who was an occasional guest singer for The Chemical Brothers early in their career.

Many acts based in electronica (indiscriminately) combined elements of pop, dance, funk, acid jazz, soul and even krautrock, but Beth Orton was the first to successfully blend it with folk. Her first two full-length albums (Trailer Park in 1996 and Central Reservation in 1999) were a perfect fusion of lilting acoustic instrumentation and delicate (sometimes disquieting) digital soundscaping that defied conventional classification. (Technically, SuperPinkyMandy was her debut album, but it had an extremely limited released only in Japan.) I’ve used several songs from these albums on many mixes over the years (starting with cassettes, then MiniDiscs/DATs, then blank CDs, then iTunes Playlists – yes, I’m that old.)

Orton released two more albums, Daybreaker in 2002 and Comfort of Stranger in 2006, but I didn’t quite connect to them as much as the first two. Starting with Daybreaker and fully realized in Comfort of Stranger, her song-stylings became more alt-folk and pop, and far less electronica. If it weren’t for her voice, there really wouldn’t be anything particularly remarkable, but what a voice it is – soulful, haunting and vulnerable with echoes of Dusty Springfield.

Orton’s next album is scheduled for end of 2009.

She Cries Your Name, Beth Orton.
Don’t Need A Reason, Beth Orton.
Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton.
Central Reservation, Beth Orton.


While I stubbornly chose to ignore all forms of electronica prior to, viagra buy buy uhm, actually listening to it (I know, aghast!), I was nonetheless aware of its mainstream acts in the 90s, including The Chemical Brothers, Massive Attack, The Prodigy, The Crystal Method and Fatboy Slim. (Much to my eventual dismay, I discovered Massive Attack’s Mezzanine far too late in life.) But what really caught my attention during this period was the voice of Beth Orton, who was an occasional guest singer for The Chemical Brothers early in their career.

Many acts based in electronica (indiscriminately) combined elements of pop, dance, funk, acid jazz, soul and even krautrock, but Beth Orton was the first to successfully blend it with folk. Her first two full-length albums (Trailer Park in 1996 and Central Reservation in 1999) were a perfect fusion of lilting acoustic instrumentation and delicate (sometimes disquieting) digital soundscaping that defied conventional classification. (Technically, SuperPinkyMandy was her debut album, but it had an extremely limited released only in Japan.) I’ve used several songs from these albums on many mixes over the years (starting with cassettes, then MiniDiscs/DATs, then blank CDs, then iTunes Playlists – yes, I’m that old.)

Orton released two more albums, Daybreaker in 2002 and Comfort of Stranger in 2006, but I didn’t quite connect to them as much as the first two. Starting with Daybreaker and fully realized in Comfort of Stranger, her song-stylings became more alt-folk and pop, and far less electronica. If it weren’t for her voice, there really wouldn’t be anything particularly remarkable, but what a voice it is – soulful, haunting and vulnerable with echoes of Dusty Springfield.

Orton’s next album is scheduled for end of 2009.

She Cries Your Name, Beth Orton.
Don’t Need A Reason, Beth Orton.
Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton.
Central Reservation, Beth Orton.


Seriously, viagra usa sales
who doesn’t love the cello? One of very few instruments that somehow manage to have a majestic yet intimate quality, viagra sales cure the cello just makes me feel…good. Its timbre is as unmistakable as its resonance is deep. While most people inevitably associate the cello to Classical music and in turn to one of its most popular figures, ed Yo-Yo Ma, it’s actually quite satisfying to hear it used in other genres. Admittedly, Yo-Yo Ma himself has a long history of incorporating it in his genre-bending albums, but I had never heard it featured in popular music until I came across Ben Sollee’s Learning to Bend album from 2008. Despite what may seem like a handicap, he seamlessly blended Americana, Jazz and even a hint of R&B (the real kind, of course).

A few years ago, I attended a concert at one of my favorite venues in Chicago, The Old Town School of Folk Music, and was completely mesmerized by the opening act, Abigail Washburn (also a member of Uncle Earl, whose Waterloo, Tennessee album is one of the best contemporary old-time country/bluegrass albums in recent years). It was through her incredible debut solo album, Song of the Traveling Daughter, that I first heard of Sollee. While his cello is heard on every song, I was too transfixed by Washburn’s voice and banjo (or maybe it was the occasional bluegrass song she sang in Mandarin…) to give any further thought to Sollee himself. He later joined Washburn’s Sparrow Quartet band, alongside Bela Fleck and Casey Driessen.

Learning to Bend was released a few months later and it immediately became one of my favorite albums of the year. The combination of unique instrumentation, earnest lyrics and soulful delivery demanded repeated listening – and I complied.

A few honest words, Ben Sollee. A plaintive, almost meditative plea for politicians (and probably Bush in particular) to be…real. The plucked cello and dirge-like fiddle set the perfect atmosphere. One of my favorite tracks from 2008.

How to see the sun rise, Ben Sollee. Jazz- and Soul-influenced, Sollee urges a former lover to give him a second chance and teach him how to…

hold a bird in my hand and watch it grow
See those feathers bloom
But don’t let it fly
Even though that’s what it’s supposed to do

It’s not impossible, Ben Sollee. While the lyrics lament societal expectations for boys to not cry, what initially grabbed my attention was the lively instrumentation straight out of Bela Fleck and the Flecktones (minus Wooten’s driving bass). And yes, that is Bela on banjo.

The entire album is wonderful, and it was just released on vinyl – so get it!

I also highly recommend Abigail Washburn’s beautiful Song of the Traveling Daughter album.

Sometimes, Abigail Washburn.


While I stubbornly chose to ignore all forms of electronica prior to, viagra usa look uhm, pills actually listening to it (I know, aghast!), I was nonetheless aware of its mainstream acts in the 90s, including The Chemical Brothers, Massive Attack, The Prodigy, The Crystal Method and Fatboy Slim. (Much to my eventual dismay, I discovered Massive Attack’s Mezzanine far too late in life.) But what really caught my attention during this period was the voice of Beth Orton, who was an occasional guest singer for The Chemical Brothers early in their career.

Many acts based in electronica (indiscriminately) combined elements of pop, dance, funk, acid jazz, soul and even krautrock, but Beth Orton was the first to successfully blend it with folk. Her first two full-length albums (Trailer Park in 1996 and Central Reservation in 1999) were a perfect fusion of lilting acoustic instrumentation and delicate (sometimes disquieting) digital soundscaping that defied conventional classification. (Technically, SuperPinkyMandy was her debut album, but it had an extremely limited released only in Japan.) I’ve used several songs from these albums on many mixes over the years (starting with cassettes, then MiniDiscs/DATs, then blank CDs, then iTunes Playlists – yes, I’m that old.)

Orton released two more albums, Daybreaker in 2002 and Comfort of Stranger in 2006, but I didn’t quite connect to them as much as the first two. Starting with Daybreaker and fully realized in Comfort of Stranger, her song-stylings became more alt-folk and pop, and far less electronica. If it weren’t for her voice, there really wouldn’t be anything particularly remarkable, but what a voice it is – soulful, haunting and vulnerable with echoes of Dusty Springfield.

Orton’s next album is scheduled for end of 2009.

She Cries Your Name, Beth Orton.
Don’t Need A Reason, Beth Orton.
Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton.
Central Reservation, Beth Orton.


Seriously, viagra sales doctor who doesn’t love the cello? One of very few instruments that somehow manage to have a majestic yet intimate quality, best cialis the cello just makes me feel…good. Its timbre is as unmistakable as its resonance is deep. While most people inevitably associate the cello to Classical music and in turn to one of its most popular figures, Yo-Yo Ma, it’s actually quite satisfying to hear it used in other genres. Admittedly, Yo-Yo Ma himself has a long history of incorporating it in his genre-bending albums, but I had never heard it featured in popular music until I came across Ben Sollee’s Learning to Bend album from 2008. Despite what may seem like a handicap, he seamlessly blended Americana, Jazz and even a hint of R&B (the real kind, of course).

A few years ago, I attended a concert at one of my favorite venues in Chicago, The Old Town School of Folk Music, and was completely mesmerized by the opening act, Abigail Washburn (also a member of Uncle Earl, whose Waterloo, Tennessee album is one of the best contemporary old-time country/bluegrass albums in recent years). It was through her incredible debut solo album, Song of the Traveling Daughter, that I first heard of Sollee. While his cello is heard on every song, I was too transfixed by Washburn’s voice and banjo (or maybe it was the occasional bluegrass song she sang in Mandarin…) to give any further thought to Sollee himself. He later joined Washburn’s Sparrow Quartet band, alongside Bela Fleck and Casey Driessen.

Learning to Bend was released a few months later and it immediately became one of my favorite albums of the year. The combination of unique instrumentation, earnest lyrics and soulful delivery demanded repeated listening – and I complied.

A few honest words, Ben Sollee. A plaintive, almost meditative plea for politicians (and probably Bush in particular) to be…real. The plucked cello and dirge-like fiddle set the perfect atmosphere. One of my favorite tracks from 2008.

How to see the sun rise, Ben Sollee. Jazz- and Soul-influenced, Sollee urges a former lover to give him a second chance and teach him how to…

hold a bird in my hand and watch it grow
See those feathers bloom
But don’t let it fly
Even though that’s what it’s supposed to do

It’s not impossible, Ben Sollee. While the lyrics lament societal expectations for boys to not cry, what initially grabbed my attention was the lively instrumentation straight out of Bela Fleck and the Flecktones (minus Wooten’s driving bass). And yes, that is Bela on banjo.

The entire album is wonderful, and it was just released on vinyl – so get it!

I also highly recommend Abigail Washburn’s beautiful Song of the Traveling Daughter album.

Sometimes, Abigail Washburn.


Seriously, viagra sales health who doesn’t love the cello? One of very few instruments that somehow manage to have a majestic yet intimate quality, the cello just makes me feel…good. Its timbre is as unmistakable as its resonance is deep. While most people inevitably associate the cello to Classical music and in turn to one of its most popular figures, Yo-Yo Ma, it’s actually quite satisfying to hear it used in other genres. Admittedly, Yo-Yo Ma himself has a long history of incorporating it in his genre-bending albums, but I had never heard it featured in popular music until I came across Ben Sollee’s Learning to Bend album from 2008. Despite what may seem like a handicap, he seamlessly blended Americana, Jazz and even a hint of R&B (the real kind, of course).

A few years ago, I attended a concert at one of my favorite venues in Chicago, The Old Town School of Folk Music, and was completely mesmerized by the opening act, Abigail Washburn (also a member of Uncle Earl, whose Waterloo, Tennessee album is one of the best contemporary old-time country/bluegrass albums in recent years). It was through her incredible debut solo album, Song of the Traveling Daughter, that I first heard of Sollee. While his cello is heard on every song, I was too transfixed by Washburn’s voice and banjo (or maybe it was the occasional bluegrass song she sang in Mandarin…) to give any further thought to Sollee himself. He later joined Washburn’s Sparrow Quartet band, alongside Bela Fleck and Casey Driessen.

Learning to Bend was released a few months later and it immediately became one of my favorite albums of the year. The combination of unique instrumentation, earnest lyrics and soulful delivery demanded repeated listening – and I complied.

A few honest words, Ben Sollee. A plaintive, almost meditative plea for politicians (and probably Bush in particular) to be…real. The plucked cello and dirge-like fiddle set the perfect atmosphere. One of my favorite tracks from 2008.

How to see the sun rise, Ben Sollee. Jazz- and Soul-influenced, Sollee urges a former lover to give him a second chance and teach him how to…

hold a bird in my hand and watch it grow
See those feathers bloom
But don’t let it fly
Even though that’s what it’s supposed to do

It’s not impossible, Ben Sollee. While the lyrics lament societal expectations for boys to not cry, what initially grabbed my attention was the lively instrumentation straight out of Bela Fleck and the Flecktones (minus Wooten’s driving bass). And yes, that is Bela on banjo.

The entire album is wonderful, and it was just released on vinyl – so get it!

I also highly recommend Abigail Washburn’s beautiful Song of the Traveling Daughter album.

Sometimes, Abigail Washburn.


While I stubbornly chose to ignore all forms of electronica prior to, viagra sale link
uhm, buy viagra actually listening to it (I know, aghast!), I was nonetheless aware of its mainstream acts in the 90s, including The Chemical Brothers, Massive Attack, The Prodigy, The Crystal Method and Fatboy Slim. (Much to my eventual dismay, I discovered Massive Attack’s Mezzanine far too late in life.) But what really caught my attention during this period was the voice of Beth Orton, who was an occasional guest singer for The Chemical Brothers early in their career.

Many acts based in electronica (indiscriminately) combined elements of pop, dance, funk, acid jazz, soul and even krautrock, but Beth Orton was the first to successfully blend it with folk. Her first two full-length albums (Trailer Park in 1996 and Central Reservation in 1999) were a perfect fusion of lilting acoustic instrumentation and delicate (sometimes disquieting) digital soundscaping that defied conventional classification. (Technically, SuperPinkyMandy was her debut album, but it had an extremely limited released only in Japan.) I’ve used several songs from these albums on many mixes over the years (starting with cassettes, then MiniDiscs/DATs, then blank CDs, then iTunes Playlists – yes, I’m that old.)

Orton released two more albums, Daybreaker in 2002 and Comfort of Stranger in 2006, but I didn’t quite connect to them as much as the first two. Starting with Daybreaker and fully realized in Comfort of Stranger, her song-stylings became more alt-folk and pop, and far less electronica. If it weren’t for her voice, there really wouldn’t be anything particularly remarkable, but what a voice it is – soulful, haunting and vulnerable with echoes of Dusty Springfield.

Orton’s next album is scheduled for end of 2009.

She Cries Your Name, Beth Orton.
Don’t Need A Reason, Beth Orton.
Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton.
Central Reservation, Beth Orton.


While I stubbornly chose to ignore all forms of electronica prior to, sildenafil ask uhm, order actually listening to it (I know, diagnosis aghast!), I was nonetheless aware of its mainstream acts in the 90s, including The Chemical Brothers, Massive Attack, The Prodigy, The Crystal Method and Fatboy Slim. (Much to my eventual dismay, I discovered Massive Attack’s Mezzanine far too late in life.) But what really caught my attention during this period was the voice of Beth Orton, who was an occasional guest singer for The Chemical Brothers early in their career.

Many acts based in electronica (indiscriminately) combined elements of pop, dance, funk, acid jazz, soul and even krautrock, but Beth Orton was the first to successfully blend it with folk. Her first two full-length albums (Trailer Park in 1996 and Central Reservation in 1999) were a perfect fusion of lilting acoustic instrumentation and delicate (sometimes disquieting) digital soundscaping that defied conventional classification. (Technically, SuperPinkyMandy was her debut album, but it had an extremely limited released only in Japan.) I’ve used several songs from these albums on many mixes over the years (starting with cassettes, then MiniDiscs/DATs, then blank CDs, then iTunes Playlists – yes, I’m that old.)

Orton released two more albums, Daybreaker in 2002 and Comfort of Stranger in 2006, but I didn’t quite connect to them as much as the first two. Starting with Daybreaker and fully realized in Comfort of Stranger, her song-stylings became more alt-folk and pop, and far less electronica. If it weren’t for her voice, there really wouldn’t be anything particularly remarkable, but what a voice it is – soulful, haunting and vulnerable with echoes of Dusty Springfield.

Orton’s next album is scheduled for end of 2009.

She Cries Your Name, Beth Orton.
Don’t Need A Reason, Beth Orton.
Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton.
Central Reservation, Beth Orton.


While I stubbornly chose to ignore all forms of electronica prior to, viagra buy buy uhm, actually listening to it (I know, aghast!), I was nonetheless aware of its mainstream acts in the 90s, including The Chemical Brothers, Massive Attack, The Prodigy, The Crystal Method and Fatboy Slim. (Much to my eventual dismay, I discovered Massive Attack’s Mezzanine far too late in life.) But what really caught my attention during this period was the voice of Beth Orton, who was an occasional guest singer for The Chemical Brothers early in their career.

Many acts based in electronica (indiscriminately) combined elements of pop, dance, funk, acid jazz, soul and even krautrock, but Beth Orton was the first to successfully blend it with folk. Her first two full-length albums (Trailer Park in 1996 and Central Reservation in 1999) were a perfect fusion of lilting acoustic instrumentation and delicate (sometimes disquieting) digital soundscaping that defied conventional classification. (Technically, SuperPinkyMandy was her debut album, but it had an extremely limited released only in Japan.) I’ve used several songs from these albums on many mixes over the years (starting with cassettes, then MiniDiscs/DATs, then blank CDs, then iTunes Playlists – yes, I’m that old.)

Orton released two more albums, Daybreaker in 2002 and Comfort of Stranger in 2006, but I didn’t quite connect to them as much as the first two. Starting with Daybreaker and fully realized in Comfort of Stranger, her song-stylings became more alt-folk and pop, and far less electronica. If it weren’t for her voice, there really wouldn’t be anything particularly remarkable, but what a voice it is – soulful, haunting and vulnerable with echoes of Dusty Springfield.

Orton’s next album is scheduled for end of 2009.

She Cries Your Name, Beth Orton.
Don’t Need A Reason, Beth Orton.
Sweetest Decline, Beth Orton.
Central Reservation, Beth Orton.


Seriously, viagra usa sales
who doesn’t love the cello? One of very few instruments that somehow manage to have a majestic yet intimate quality, viagra sales cure the cello just makes me feel…good. Its timbre is as unmistakable as its resonance is deep. While most people inevitably associate the cello to Classical music and in turn to one of its most popular figures, ed Yo-Yo Ma, it’s actually quite satisfying to hear it used in other genres. Admittedly, Yo-Yo Ma himself has a long history of incorporating it in his genre-bending albums, but I had never heard it featured in popular music until I came across Ben Sollee’s Learning to Bend album from 2008. Despite what may seem like a handicap, he seamlessly blended Americana, Jazz and even a hint of R&B (the real kind, of course).

A few years ago, I attended a concert at one of my favorite venues in Chicago, The Old Town School of Folk Music, and was completely mesmerized by the opening act, Abigail Washburn (also a member of Uncle Earl, whose Waterloo, Tennessee album is one of the best contemporary old-time country/bluegrass albums in recent years). It was through her incredible debut solo album, Song of the Traveling Daughter, that I first heard of Sollee. While his cello is heard on every song, I was too transfixed by Washburn’s voice and banjo (or maybe it was the occasional bluegrass song she sang in Mandarin…) to give any further thought to Sollee himself. He later joined Washburn’s Sparrow Quartet band, alongside Bela Fleck and Casey Driessen.

Learning to Bend was released a few months later and it immediately became one of my favorite albums of the year. The combination of unique instrumentation, earnest lyrics and soulful delivery demanded repeated listening – and I complied.

A few honest words, Ben Sollee. A plaintive, almost meditative plea for politicians (and probably Bush in particular) to be…real. The plucked cello and dirge-like fiddle set the perfect atmosphere. One of my favorite tracks from 2008.

How to see the sun rise, Ben Sollee. Jazz- and Soul-influenced, Sollee urges a former lover to give him a second chance and teach him how to…

hold a bird in my hand and watch it grow
See those feathers bloom
But don’t let it fly
Even though that’s what it’s supposed to do

It’s not impossible, Ben Sollee. While the lyrics lament societal expectations for boys to not cry, what initially grabbed my attention was the lively instrumentation straight out of Bela Fleck and the Flecktones (minus Wooten’s driving bass). And yes, that is Bela on banjo.

The entire album is wonderful, and it was just released on vinyl – so get it!

I also highly recommend Abigail Washburn’s beautiful Song of the Traveling Daughter album.

Sometimes, Abigail Washburn.


“Tell Me, generic viagra ambulance Baby”, ambulance from Walter Hyatt’s King Tears album (1990), is one of my all-time favorite songs. Its beautifully melancholic melody and lyrics just hit the right spot – I can’t explain it. Much like Ray Charles’ “Georgia On My Mind“, it’s one of those songs that I just can’t help but listen to on repeat (and is naturally in my desert-island mix).

Before releasing his two solo albums, Hyatt was a member of Uncle Walt’s Band, a wonderful Americana band from the 70s-80s. Their An American in Texas Revisited album (1980) was one of my first exposures to non-mainstream Americana/Roots/Whatever You Want to Call It music, and it set the stage for further exploration.

You can hear traces of jazz influences in Uncle Walt’s Band, but it wasn’t until his first solo album, King Tears, that Hyatt managed to let loose his inner jazz vocalist without ever losing touch with his Folk/Country/Swing roots (it’s a crime that this album and Hyatt himself aren’t recognized more). The entire album is excellent, but “Tell Me, Baby” is…special.

Hyatt tragically died on a plane crash in 1996 and couldn’t complete his third album, but the posthumous release, Some Unfinished Business, Volume One (2008), culled many of his unfinished songs and overdubbed them onto the final production versions with the aid of many of his admirers.

Tell Me, Baby, Walter Hyatt.
Tell Me Baby, Allison Moorer. A great cover from her debut album, Alabama Song. Her live version during a Walter Hyatt tribute concert on Austin City Limits (1997) is even better!


Posted in Desert Island Mix, Random Selection From My iTunes Library.