Size: 109.0 MB
Time: 47:36
File: MP3 @ 320K/s
Style: Blues, Jazz Fusion
Art: Front, Back
1. candlelight [4:20]
2. reach for the night [6:19]
3. fields of forever [4:35]
4. hidden cities [5:01]
5. don't look now [5:06]
6. rusty lady [5:13]
7. industrial child [3:40]
8. drone [4:47]
9. keep it down [4:57]
10. no surrender [3:33]
Jack Bruce’s forthcoming Silver Rails isn’t a long-hoped-for return to his greatness with Cream, a fiery fusion excursion in the manner of his more recent work with Spectrum Road, or something else entirely. It’s actually a little of all of that, as the restless bass-playing singer-songwriter traverses a dizzying array of song styles — some blessedly familiar and some intriguingly new — while bravely facing his third act head on.
The thread holding this tapestry of textures, cadences and ambition together on Silver Rails is Bruce’s voice — both as a singer and as a storyteller. He sounds weathered, but never cowed — beaten up at times, but never beaten down. “I used to be somebody,” he admits in on the contemplative, piano-driven “Reach for the Night,” and as the long-awaited Silver Rails unfolds, you get a clear picture of why.
This is one of those tour-de-force recordings that record labels attempt to construct for people of Bruce’s vintage, the kind of versatile, endlessly engaging project that works both as valedictory for his legacy fans and as a window for the next generation. Except, unlike your typically pasted together all-star amalgam, Jack Bruce is front and center throughout. Even when famous names like Robin Trower, John Medeski, Cindy Blackman Santana and Phil Manzanera sit in, Bruce remains a centering force.
“Fields of Forever” has a frisky early-Who-esque groove, while “Don’t Look Now” allows Bruce to explore every element of his vocal range — all in service of a devastatingly honest look at life’s twists and turns. The gorgeous “Industrial Child” goes deeper still, getting quieter still, finding a home right next to Bruce’s heart. That’s balanced by a nasty menace of the aptly titled “Drone,” a song that takes his Spectrum Road collaboration with Medeski to its outside apex.
The thread holding this tapestry of textures, cadences and ambition together on Silver Rails is Bruce’s voice — both as a singer and as a storyteller. He sounds weathered, but never cowed — beaten up at times, but never beaten down. “I used to be somebody,” he admits in on the contemplative, piano-driven “Reach for the Night,” and as the long-awaited Silver Rails unfolds, you get a clear picture of why.
This is one of those tour-de-force recordings that record labels attempt to construct for people of Bruce’s vintage, the kind of versatile, endlessly engaging project that works both as valedictory for his legacy fans and as a window for the next generation. Except, unlike your typically pasted together all-star amalgam, Jack Bruce is front and center throughout. Even when famous names like Robin Trower, John Medeski, Cindy Blackman Santana and Phil Manzanera sit in, Bruce remains a centering force.
“Fields of Forever” has a frisky early-Who-esque groove, while “Don’t Look Now” allows Bruce to explore every element of his vocal range — all in service of a devastatingly honest look at life’s twists and turns. The gorgeous “Industrial Child” goes deeper still, getting quieter still, finding a home right next to Bruce’s heart. That’s balanced by a nasty menace of the aptly titled “Drone,” a song that takes his Spectrum Road collaboration with Medeski to its outside apex.
Silver Rails MC
Silver Rails ZS
1 comment:
not impressed...
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