Keely Smith, a musical sensation since the Rat Pack era, is still going strong. Dovetailing with her latest album, a tribute to her late husband and musical partner Louis Prima, Smith is heading out on tour with the U.K.’s top swing combo, the Jive Aces, bringing classic Vegas swing to generations of music lovers!

By Bruce Lewis

The world of jazz, jive, and swing just got dealt a flush hand — a queen and six aces! Keely Smith, the “Queen of Las Vegas” and one of the living legends of Rat Pack swing, has joined her voice with Britain’s number one jive and swing band The Jive Aces for a summer tour of the UK and Europe. Also on board for the tour is special guest Toni Elizabeth Prima, daughter of Keely and legendary bandleader Louis Prima and a rising belter in her own right. Together, Keely, Toni and the Aces form an eightsome of greatsome that’s guaranteed to put an extra olive in your dry Martini!

Of all the stage stars of Rat Pack-era Vegas, Keely Smith has remained perhaps the most constant. Although she is possibly best known for her partnership with Louis Prima — with whom she helped turn Las Vegas from a desert outpost into as oasis of ’60s swank — Smith’s 50-year career in the variety biz has included team-ups with the biggest names in song, including Frank Sinatra, conductor/arranger Nelson Riddle and jazz giant Count Basie.

Swingin’ Since Childhood

It all started for Keely Smith in Norfolk, Virginia, and her appearances on a locally-produced Saturday morning children’s radio show called “Joe Brown’s Radio Gang.” Although only 11 years old at the time, her clear ear and mature singing style caught the attention of local producers; by the time she turned 16, Smith was on stage singing and swinging with the local big bands for the entertainment of the mobs of soldiers, sailors, and Marines that had crowded into the city during the war.

A chance opportunity to audition for swing star Louis Prima in Virginia Beach in 1948 led to Smith touring (under chaperone, of course!) with Prima’s big band. Five years later, a now-adult Keely Smith and Prima were married with a baby on the way — leading the two to take their act to Las Vegas, then a mere seedling of a city.

It was a gutsy move. Las Vegas in 1953 had only one paved street (the Strip, of course). Nevertheless, Prima and Smith fired up the swing and took the town by storm, and an initial two- week gig at Sahara’s Casbar Lounge soon turned into a Vegas institution. The duo snagged a Billboard hit (#18) and a Grammy in ’58 with their cover of Arlen/Mercer’s “That Old Black Magic”, and by 1959, they were the hottest show in town, filling the seats at the Sahara with a celebrity audience every night.

Tackling TV and Film

TV was next. Hailed as the “King and Queen of Las Vegas” by the variety press, the pair were introduced to television audiences as “the greatest nightclub act in the country” by songstress Dinah Shore on her popular show.

Then, Keely Smith and Louis Prima hit the big screen:  Smith sang “Whippoorwill” in 1958s Robert Mitchum vehicle Thunder Road, and in ’59’s wild musical romp Hey Boy! Hey Girl! she appeared singing “Fever”.

Her fame now boosted by being a screen star, Capitol Records signed Keely to a solo contract. She then went on to sing a string of solo hits in the late 1950s.

The fairytale ended in 1961, when Smith divorced Prima and left Capitol, as well. After moving to Sinatra’s pet, Reprise Records, Smith joined up with the Chairman’s best-down conducting and arranging partner, Nelson Riddle, to bust the UK Top 20 in 1965 with an album of Beatles songs arranged just for her.

A Revival in the ’90s

By then, however, Keely Smith was ready for a change. With the domination of the pop charts by the rock sound, Smith decided to settle down. A romance with producer Jimmy Bowen led to marriage, and by the late ’60s Smith had retired from music to concentrate on raising her children. Aside from a few television guest spots, Smith was out of show business by the end of the ’60s.

Her comeback came in 1980, when director Martin Scorsese featured Keely singing “I Ain’t Got Nobody” in his hit film Raging Bull. This led to singing spots in 1993’s Mad Dog and Glory, 1994’s baseball biopic Cobb, and 1995’s Destiny Turns on the Radio and Casino. Her career really began to take off with the release of Staley Tucci’s 1996 gem Big Night, a ’50s period piece, the plot of which centered on an appearance of Prima and Smith (Keely sang “Love of My Life/O Sole Mio” and  “Don’t Take Your Love from Me” on the soundtrack). Since then, Keely has regularly appeared on stage and screen, including a memorable performance of “Mood Indigo” in a 2007 episode of HBO’s The Sopranos.

And the Beat Goes On

Keely Smith is still belting them out today: her latest album, Vegas ‘58 – Today, is a compilation of her best known songs, recorded live as her homage to the late Louis Prima. Now a best-selling Concord Records artist, the 70-something Keely Smith continues her reign as the undisputed queen of the Las Vegas-style swing scene.

And now, a new chapter in the Keely Smith saga has begun with her collaboration with the Jive Aces. Famous as the UK’s top jive and swing band, the Jive Aces are hard-put to keep up with global demand for their unique song stylings -– the sextet racks up more than 300 shows in 25 countries annually, plus hundreds of appearances on TV and radio shows.

Drawn together by their love for hot jive and big band swing, these non-moptopped lads from London — Ian Clarkson (vocals and trumpet), Ken Smith (double bass), Vince Hurley (piano), Peter Howell (drums), John Fordham (saxophone), and Alex Douglas (trombone) -– cite influences as diverse as Elvis, Frank Sinatra, and (of course) Louis Prima as the basis for their beat. Famous on the late-’80s London local scene as swing dancers, the Aces soon found it difficult to find enough hot bands to keep their fingers snappin’ and toes tappin’, so they decided to go into the music biz themselves.

Their live premiere in Paris in January, 1989 was a blowout, and soon word of the Jive Aces’ foot-stomping, Fifties-style floorshow spread across Europe and thence around the world. The Aces hit America in 1996 with their gig at the Olympic Games in Atlanta, and they continue to tour and record in the States today.

Catch the Jive Aces and Keely Smith — the hottest hand in swing today — performing live on Valentine’s Day 2009 at the McCallum Theatre in Palm Desert, CA. And, be sure to check the Jive Aces’ gig guide for more information on upcoming shows with Keely Smith throughout summer 2009.

SPECIAL UPDATE: Keely Smith made a surprise cameo during an appearance by The Jive Aces  on BBC’s The Evening Show!

Bruce Lewis is an American voice actor, writer, artist, and author. He has worked in the U.S. manga and anime industry since 1993, and his book Draw Manga: How To Draw Manga In Your Own Unique Style, is an Amazon.com Bestseller.

Everyone should have one great holiday CD with songs you can listen to over and over again at Christmas each year.

Sleigh Me, the first compilation CD from ATOMIC Magazine, is just such an album, filled with musical delights from some of today’s hottest swing and big band artists that will have you lindy hoppin’ under the mistletoe all night long.

Enjoy popular Christmas standards by George Gee and The Jump Jive and Wailers, The Jive Aces, Lavay Smith, The Ray Gelato Giants, The Bill Elliott Swing Orchestra, Michael Andrew and Swingerhead, Dave’s True Story, Los Straightjackets, plus new originals by Casey MacGill and Big Bad Voodoo Daddy. This timeless compilation is guaranteed to put a jingle in your step this holiday season!

Visit ATOMIC Magazine for the full track listing, audio song samples, and easy online ordering!

Legendary jazz guitarist Joe Beck, one of the instrument’s great contemporary practitioners, died last week of lung cancer at a hospice in Danbury, CT, a few days before his 63rd birthday.

Throughout his career, Beck, who recorded frequently for the New Bedford-based WCS label, worked with some of the very biggest names in jazz and pop. In a career that spanned five decades, Beck accompanied an extraordinary range of giants: Duke Ellington and Gil Evans, Miles Davis, Paul Desmond, Stan Getz, and Brazilian genius Antonio Carlos Jobim. Beck also played in jazz orchestras led by Buddy Rich, Maynard Ferguson, and Woody Herman, and he accompanied fellow guitarists like Larry Coryell and John Abercrombie. He also performed sessions and tours with pop musicians such as Laura Nyro, Paul Simon, Richie Havens, and James Brown.

Legendary guitarist Joe Beck, pictured here with jazz guitarist Doug Proper, died in late July at age 62.

Born in Philadelphia and raised on the West Coast, Beck headed to NYC in the ’60s as a teen-versed in both rock and jazz- and quickly made a name for himself as a precocious talent.

His style, characterized by deep creativity, edgy grooves, and remarkable versatility, was one of jazz guitar’s most identifiable techniques, and a golden achievement in the genre.

“He was a really great guitar player.” John Scofield, one of Beck’s peers in the jazz world, told News Times reporter Scott Miller. “He could do anything on the guitar.”

“He could play any song in any key,” said John Abercrombie, another guitar great who toured Europe playing duets with Beck as recently as December and who released an album, Coincidence, with Beck six months ago, on WCS. “You’d ask him what key he wanted to play a song in and he’d say, ‘It doesn’t matter.’”

And it didn’t matter what realm he was working in either. Beck was an accomplished arranger who produced albums for Frank Sinatra, Esther Phillips and Gloria Gaynor. He also wrote commercial jingles. Music flowed through his veins and came out in his hands.

“I thought he was the Bill Evans of the guitar,” Abercrombie said, comparing Beck to one of the greatest of all jazz pianists.

Whaling City Sound, whose Beck catalog boasts five of his titles, including the new Coincidence, mourns, along with the entire jazz community, the passing of the this titan. “We’ll miss his wit, his wisdom and his incredible fluency on guitar,” says Whaling City Sound president Neal Weiss. “He was one of a kind and an immense talent.”

BACK TO THE RETRO FUTURE: PART 2
Yesteryear’s Movies of Tomorrow
By Will “The Thrill” Viharo

In this second installment of our three-part series, B-movie conoisseur Will Viharo ventures into the vaults of vintage sci-fi cinema to highlight the best in classic spaceship celluloid. This isn’t just a lesson in cinematic history, it’s a look deep into the collective American psyche in the mid-20th century. Ready for more? Then pour yourself a refreshing glass of traggle nectar, lean back, and enjoy the continuing journey into uncharted realms known only to diehard science fiction fans.

“PIE PLATES OF PERIL”: EARTH VS. THE FLYING SAUCERS (1956)

Fear of an invasion from outer space, spurred by vague but frequent UFO sightings and whispered conspiracies, was as palpable among the panicky population of the ’50s as worry over a nuclear standoff with Russia. And, filmmakers were quick to cash in on this terror-stricken trend. Special effects guru Ray Harryhausen is better known these days for sword-and-sorcery swashbucklers like The 7th Voyage of Sinbad and Jason and the Argonauts, but in the black & white days of the ’50s, his specialty was devising methods for the destruction of various cities, including their most famous landmarks. In Beast From 20,000 Fathoms (1953), the first feature film for which he created all the special effects, the prehistoric Rhedosaurus rampages through New York; in It Came From Beneath (1955) a giant octopus ravages San Francisco; in 20,000 Miles to Earth (1957) a Venusian monster called an Ymir makes his last stand on the Coliseum in Rome.

But for Earth vs. The Flying Saucers, Ray’s 1956 alien invaders masterpiece, the creative juggernaut devised ingenious flying saucers that became the most memorable—and mimicked—of all interstellar invasion vehicles (copied outright in Tim Burton’s outrageous 1996 send-up, Mars Attacks). Keeping pace with Ray’s other displays of urban destruction, and taking a cue from Day the Earth Stood Still, the invaders also trash our nation’s capital, but with much more malevolent force than the diplomatic Klaatu: the Washington Monument is totally toppled in the assault!

Also see: George Pal’s seminal and influential classic War of the Worlds (1953), based on the H.G. Wells novel but more inspired by Orson Welles’ infamous radio play, which caused real life panic during its 1938 broadcast; AIP’s drive-in classic Invasion of the Saucer Men (1957) featuring Frank Gorshin and a gang of Paul Blaisdell’s bulbous-headed, cat-eyed, alcohol-clawed space monsters, but only one sad little saucer; Howard Hawks’ The Thing From Another World (1951), the crowd-pleasing classic about a hostile alien veggie-monster-man (James Arness) who crash lands his saucer near the North Pole and proceeds to terrorize a scientific expedition; and The Mysterians (1957), Toho’s entry in the space invader race, as evil aliens armed with a bird-like giant robot named Mogera lay waste to Japan, as if resident giant monsters Godzilla and Rodan weren’t doing their job properly.

“ROBOTS ‘R’ US”: FORBIDDEN PLANET (1956)

While many of us want our jetpacks, the homemakers among us yearn for another un-kept promise from the architects of yesteryear: the robot maid. Postwar visionaries often pitched the home of the future as a modern oasis replete with automatic devices, self-sufficient resources and plenty of intelligent mechanisms to aid our leisure. As of this writing in the futuristic year of 2004, they’re still working on ‘em. But, perhaps the most legendary embodiment of this technological Utopia was Robby the Robot, the inhuman star of Forbidden Planet, an interstellar re-imagining of Shakespeare’s The Tempest that is arguably the most famous and beloved of all ’50s sci-fi movies.

Robots had been popular in sci-fi literature and pop culture for decades already, but with all the advances made in technology since WW2, people began to actually expect a race of robots to one day serve humankind. Nowadays, robotic humans are regularly seen in political circles or reporting the news, and Arnold’s Terminator is the current standard for our mechanical doppelgangers. But Robby remains the robot for the ages: boundlessly smart, eloquently personable, magically resourceful, and incredibly cool. Only the Robot on the Lost in Space TV series can compete with Robby’s pop cultural standing (and in fact they once teamed up in an episode).

Forbidden Planet is itself a marvel–the vividly colorful sets and costumes of the crew (led by Leslie Nielsen, long before he realized how funny he could be) and the philosophical underpinnings (including a giant invisible monster spawned by the Freudian “Id”) set it apart from its many imitators and descendents. It also boasts the premiere all-electronic score, by Louis and Bebe Barron. Word of a remake has been circulating for some time, but the fact is, only the innocent imagination of mid-century dreamers could create such a warm, vibrant and relevant masterpiece. Though set in a future where interplanetary space travel is the norm, it’s a time capsule treasure of and from the past. Leave it alone.

Also see: Robby’s return in The Invisible Boy (1957); another children’s robot classic, Tobor the Great (1954); and a more menacing metal man in Herman Cohen’s Target Earth (1954).

“SWINGIN’ AMONG THE STARS”: QUEEN OF OUTER SPACE (1958)

This was a plot peculiar to the 1950s: a group or horny frat-boy astronauts, including at least one wisecracking sidekick from Brooklyn or someplace like it, sometimes with a pet monkey, land on another planet and encounter a race of Amazonian women wearing high heels, short skirts, thick mascara, red lipstick, and uptight attitudes supposedly caused by years of forced virginity due to the death/disappearance/unexplained absence of all males in their society. Fortunately for the guys, none of the women are lesbians, and after the requisite fights with the local giant spider puppets and whatnot, the mating process begins.

Of course this is the straight male’s wet dream come true, and it came true several times throughout the decade, reaching its zenith in Queen of Outer Space, starring Zsa Zsa Gabor (though she does not play the titular monarch). This wide-screen Deluxe color cult classic is one of the funniest movies ever made, and rumor has it the camp was intentional, years before that became the fashion, so in effect this was the earliest film to spoof its own genre (like much later efforts such as John Landis’ Amazon Women on the Moon). The script was allegedly developed from an idea by the legendary screenwriter Ben Hecht, though no one has ever really substantiated this rumor, especially not Hecht, who probably talked too loud while drunk one night at an industry shindig, hitting on the local talent. This concept was ubiquitous enough, though, so we’ll let Ben off the hook. If there is a cure for humorless political correctness, this is it.

Also see: the sexist 3D thrills of Cat Women of the Moon (1953), and its remake(!), Missile to the Moon (1958); the oddly titled Abbott and Costello Go To Mars (1953), in which Bud and Lou go to Venus and find a bevy of beauty pageant contestants; and Fire Maidens of Outer Space (1956), in which the Brits prove they’re as randy (and as willing to travel for it) as us raunchy All-Americans.

There’s lots more to come, readers. Stay tuned for Part Three of
Will Viharo’s sci-fi cinematic escapades!

Beatnik lounge lizard and writer Will “the Thrill” Viharo and his wife, Monica “the Tiki Goddess,” host a live cult movie cabaret called “Thrillville” at the Cerrito Speakeasy Theater in El Cerrito, CA. Will also has a B-movie tiki lounge at home, where he watches his DVD collection while drinking homemade Mai Tais (which may have influenced these reviews somewhat).

BACK TO THE RETRO FUTURE: PART 1
Yesteryear’s Movies of Tomorrow
By Will “The Thrill” Viharo

In the first of this three-part series, B-movie conoisseur Will Viharo ventures into the vaults of vintage sci-fi cinema to highlight the best in classic spaceship celluloid . This isn’t just a lesson in cinematic history, it’s a look deep into the collective American psyche in the mid-20th century. So, pour yourself a tumbler of rocket fuel, kick back, and get ready to blast off into uncharted realms known only to diehard science fiction fans.

Many of us poor Earthlings stuck here in the dawn of the terror-stricken, economically challenging, morally complex, gas-guzzling 21st Century wonder one simple thing: Where are our personal jet-packs promised by The Jetsons back in the early 1960s?

Today’s sci-fi blockbusters are decidedly more pessimistic than the space-age films of yore. Beginning with cynical cyber-punk classics like Blade Runner (1982), modern science fiction movies invariably depict dreary, dystopian futures for our species, full of screeching sound, smoke and steel. (See also: Mad Max, Matrix, Alien and Terminator franchises, and the more recent I, Robot.) Even relatively optimistic options offered by the sundry Star Trek spin-offs or the Star Wars movies are noisy, busy and, by certain standards, downright ugly. As they say, the future is not what it used to be.

Perhaps this accounts for the current, rampant nostalgia for mid-20th Century pop culture—people of this real “future” are now longing for the pretty past that placed much more faith in us than we do ourselves. The hopes and dreams this nation had for its own technological and cultural evolution following the euphoria of the prosperous 1950s was slowly and systematically shattered by the revolutionary ’60s. The assassinations of John F. Kennedy and Martin Luther King, as well as the rebellion of the counterculture, and the angry ascent of rock ‘n’ roll, destroyed the collective aspirations of an entire generation by the finale of this tumultuous decade—which, ironically, also ended with the first moon-landing, in 1969. Although many positive changes resulted from this massive upheaval, mainly in the arena of civil rights, a certain idealism and innocence was tragically lost in the explosive exchange. By the beginning of the 1980s, the country was riveted by Michael Jackson’s moonwalk, not the steps taken by our brave astronauts. Goodbye, Jetsons; hello, Joan Jett.

ROCKETS, ROBOTS & RAYS OF HOPE

Nowhere is the post-WW2 generation’s faith in (and fears of) the future more evident than in the science fiction movies of the 1950s and early ’60s, which often and ironically contradicted the public’s real fears that we’d blow ourselves up any minute and there’d be no future at all. Still, filmmakers dared to dream for the masses. For the purpose of illustrating these reveries, I’ve compiled a list of movies I strongly recommend for your homebound blast to the past. All of these titles are available either on DVD or VHS; some are still occasionally shown on late night cable TV (including re-runs of Mystery Science Theater 3000). I’ve broken them down into eclectic, and rather eccentric, categories, leading off with my own personal favorite of the bunch. But be forewarned: my tastes tend toward the pulpy end of the spectrum. I’ve also provided alternate choices from the A, B and Z lists as well.

This list leaves out obvious ’50s sci-fi categories like Big Bugs (Them!, Tarantula, The Deadly Mantis) or Red Scare Alien Possession (Invasion of the Body Snatchers, It Came From Outer Space, It Conquered the World), focusing more on films that represent the mid-century man’s dreams, and nightmares, regarding The Future, be it In Space, From Space, or right here on “Terror” Firma. Most of these films contain the popular iconography associated with this genre—rocket ships, robots, ray guns—and represent a fairly comprehensive cross-section of sub-genres, commonly bonded with that essential B movie ingredient: Cheese. Welcome to the interstellar cocktail lounge of the Space Age imagination.

“FIRE UP THOSE RETRO-ROCKETS”: DESTINATION MOON (1950)

During the most xenophobic era in modern American history, rife with communist witch-hunts, racial prejudice, and social malaise, many Americans dreamed of a better world “Out There”. George Pal, who by now had established himself as a special effects wizard due to his innovative, award-winning “Puppetoon” animation shorts, was the first filmmaker to successfully capture these starry-eyed ambitions on celluloid. This film, though slow-paced, is a graceful (albeit naturally cornball) little masterwork of style and creativity, also considered to be scientifically sound at the time. While dated, this film is worth seeing because of its historical significance as prototypical space exploration cinema.

Also see: Rocketship XM (1950), rushed into release when it was learned Destination Moon was in production, making it the first official “rocketship” movie, complete with a little theremin on the soundtrack; Cameron Mitchell and Arthur Franz take a very early, and colorful, Flight to Mars (1951), using spacesuits left over from Destination Moon;and Pal’s next excursion into planetary orbit, the more ambitious but less successful Conquest of Space (1955).

“ALIENS ARE PEOPLE, TOO”: THE DAY THE EARTH STOOD STILL (1951) and THIS ISLAND EARTH (1955)

It’s astounding that right in the middle of a conservative era dominated by militant American chest-thumping, a film with a liberal anti-war message could even get made, much less become a hit. But Robert Wise’s sci-fi masterpiece The Day the Earth Stood Still not only went down in Hollywood history as one of the most sophisticated, exciting and intelligent sci-fi movies ever made, it was also a popular favorite with audiences across all demographics, making it the first big sci-fi “blockbuster.” It also boasted the first major sci-fi soundtrack to fully employ a theremin, composed by the great Bernard Hermann, setting a B movie trend that would last for over a decade (though non-monster movies The Lost Weekend and Spellbound were the very first to use this eerie instrument in their scores).

Day’s iconic imagery—the giant robot Gort emerging from the immense flying saucer on the White House Lawn, led by interstellar ambassador Klaatu, played by Michael Rennie—is both an emblem of classic sci-fi cinema and a symbol of peace during an uncertain, unsteady era. Of course, the actual message from space was a bit more blunt: Earth’s nations either learn to get along or they will be obliterated by an inter-galactic police force, before our volatile inclinations can infect the rest of the apparently peace-loving universe.

Another equally emblematic alien of the era was the big-brained Metaluna Mutant from This Island Earth, Universal’s official entry in the epic outer space sweepstakes. This classic popcorn movie, while not quite in the league of its classy predecessor, opting for cheap thrills over political subtext, also featured an alien ambassador. The visitor, Exeter (played by genre regular Jeff Morrow), whose intentions are at first sinister, is finally revealed as noble only after he has abducted two hapless Earthlings (fellow genre stalwarts Rex Reason and Faith Domergue) to his doomed planet. The Technicolor production still stuns with imaginative visuals, and its soundtrack music, including cues by Henry Mancini, is equally essential. This Island Earth’s “interocitor” machine became as famous amongst ’50s fantasy film fans as the ultimate quote from Day the Earth Stood Still: “Klaatu barada nikto.”

Also see: Edgar C. Ulmer’s moody, sympathetic portrait of The Man From Planet X (1951) ; the bargain basement one-set wonder The Astounding She Monster (1958), with Robert C. Clarke, gangsters and a voluptuous visitor from beyond the stars; the atmospheric British chiller Devil Girl From Mars (1954), whose sexy space-travelling siren also sports her own imposing robot enforcer; and Teenagers From Outer Space (1958), which proved that juvenile delinquency had truly spread to all corners of the galaxy and the most insidious enemy was already among us.

There’s more celluloid magic in store, readers.
Check out Part Two of Will Viharo’s sci-fi cinematic escapades!

Beatnik lounge lizard and writer Will “the Thrill” Viharo and his wife, Monica “the Tiki Goddess,” host a live cult movie cabaret called “Thrillville” at the Cerrito Speakeasy Theater in El Cerrito, CA. Will also has a B-movie tiki lounge at home, where he watches his DVD collection while drinking homemade Mai Tais, the effects of which may have influenced these reviews somewhat.

Get ready to cut a rug, cats and kittens, because we’ve got some swanky sounds coming your way.

Our industrious intern is in the process of re-uploading four years’ worth of music reviews into our newly renovated Website. And, of course, we’ll be adding new tunes, soon.

What’s in store? From Rockabilly to Big Band, and from Exotica to the Blues, we’ve got the whole retro spectrum covered!

• So, stay tuned, and we’ll be rockin’ your socks off in no time!

Life is a Game
Review by Doug Boynton

The Jive Aces can play. And play they do, both figuratively and literally. Based out of the U.K., they’ll perform more than 300 gigs this year, across several countries. Their musical talents and passion for up-tempo swing are delightfully evident on their latest release, Life Is a Game (Right Recordings). With just a couple of exceptions, the disc jumps from beginning to end.

Ian Clarkson’s vocals remind me of a young Louis Prima. In fact, the band’s whole sound reminded me of classic Prima and Sam Butera. It’s an image they’ve polished very well. The arrangements are first-rate, and 10 of the 14 cuts on Life is a Game are home-grown by the group itself. Highlights include the band’s theme song, “Jive, Jive, Jive Aces,” penned by bass player Ken Smith; “Long Distance Love Affair,” co-written by drummer Peter Howell; and an arrangement of “Singin’ in the Rain” that is simply aces. You’ll also want to hear the winning tune, “I’ve Got Affinity for You.”

Then, in the middle of the disc, there’s this three-cut…um…thing.

Think of it as a commercial break. First, there’s “High Energy Jive,” an ode to…well, high energy. The track is followed by “Only Mugs Take Drugs,” and really, how can you argue with that? Coming in at number three is “Clear Body, Clear Mind.”

That’s the one that sent me to their website.

Ah. I get it now. There’s a religious undertone to it all. Remember the guy who would come to some gathering when you were a kid, and he’d do a magic show, except you had to sit through five or ten minutes about Jesus somewhere in the middle? Same idea here, except the Jive Aces are Scientologists.

Ideological leanings aside, the disc is top-notch, even the advertorials really swing. Precision is this band’s long suit; every piece sounds hand-crafted, and fits well. My advice? Roll up the rug. Play this loud.

Doug Boynton is the bartender at www.girlsingers.org.

The King of Skull Island Lives on DVD
By Will “The Thrill” Viharo

In anticipation of the epic Peter Jackson remake of the original 1933 classic King Kong, several studios are going “ape,” unleashing their individual inventories of the Big Guy’s cinematic adventures onto the holiday DVD market. I say, bring it on.

The release (or is that escape?) that’s really driving Kong fanatics bananas is the four-disc set from Warner Brothers (which now owns the valuable vintage RKO library), THE KING KONG COLLECTION. The collection features the first KING KONG plus its immediate and perfunctory sequel, SON OF KONG and the 1949 stop motion monkey masterpiece, MIGHTY JOE YOUNG, all from the trailblazing team of Merian C. Cooper and Ernest B. Schoedsack. These two cats were more than visionary entrepreneurs — they were both true-life adventurers in the real world, culling inspiration not only from their vivid imaginations but also from their own exploratory experiences in exotic realms around the globe. This pair of macho, heroic characters shared a passionate patriotism as well as a risk-taking sense of the bold and innovative. Their creative collaboration resulted not only in the enduring success of these iconic movie monsters, but also the groundbreaking early ’50s experiment in hyperbolic cinema sensationalism, This is Cinerama. (Cooper also produced a number of key John Ford Westerns, including She Wore a Yellow Ribbon and The Searchers.)

The duo’s influential exploits are well documented in the second disc of the King Kong DVD, which also includes interviews with New Zealand-native Peter Jackson, Oscar winner for his recent Lord of the Rings trilogy and director of the new Kong. His reverence for the original is almost as legendary as the film itself. Jackson even included Skull Island, Kong’s home, in his outrageous zombie satire Dead Alive (1993). What really impressed me was his recreation, via historically contextual, painstaking accuracy, of the “lost” spider pit sequence from the original Kong. Jackson and his team of special effects wizards — all expressing their reverence for Oakland-born Willis O’Brien, Kong’s masterful animator and the godfather of all modern visual effects — manage to pull off an extraordinary miracle of movie magic. This sequence alone makes the DVD a must-have for all fantasy film geeks (like yours truly).

But then, there are the movies themselves, now available for the first time in this format. King Kong’s pristine transfer is from a recently unearthed British 35mm print that keeps intact the notorious scenes of graphic violence (Kong biting people in half) and implicit sexuality (stripping Fay Wray and then sniffing her!) that were cut from the 1938 re-release (as dictated by the increasingly conservative Motion Picture Code), only to re-emerge in the ’60s via scratchy 16mm sources, awkwardly edited back into subsequent video releases. Now we can see the film in its original uncut glory for the first time, and it is magnificent.

Of course, modern audiences will still cringe at the jaw-dropping racism and sexism that somehow escaped our youthful notice, but taken within historical context, and given the fact the real star of the film is a giant gorilla, these concerns should not detract from the overall experience. Hey, we’re here for the spectacle, for the big ape, and for the dinosaurs — who cares about these stupid little humans, anyway? Not me. They’re just part of the scenery that Kong chews up with relish.

Son of Kong was released within a few months after its popular Pop. It’s a hastily thrown together “comedy” featuring Kong’s unexplained offspring discovered on a return trip to Skull Island by Carl Denham (Robert Armstrong) and some treasure seekers. Little Kong makes cute, childlike gestures, wrestles a cave bear and encounters a few other odd creatures, but it’s a relatively brief (70 or so minutes) exercise in exploitation, a quickie sequel too obviously made to cash in on the original’s unprecedented success. But it does have its period charms, and little kids should appreciate the simple story.

The effects are not nearly as impressive as in the first, looking more like an episode of the ’70s TV show Land of the Lost, but for its era, and considering the budget and time constraints, it’s a pleasant enough postscript.

Mighty Joe Young is another chest-thumping tale of an overgrown (17 feet or so) primate brought to civilization by a greedy showman — again played by Armstrong — but this time Willis O’Brien (whose personal life was wrought with tragedy) brought in a young assistant named Ray Harryhausen, later famous for such landmark fantasy classics as Jason and the Argonauts and The 7th Voyage of Sinbad. Ray also provides commentary on both King Kong and Mighty Joe Young and appears in two documentaries on the Joe Young disc. The result of this collaboration is a more smoothly animated creation and advanced techniques of rear projection, matte photography and other illusionary feats first pioneered by O’Brien, who practically invented the special effects blockbuster on the fly back in ‘32 while working on Kong. The nightclub scenes alone are among the most astonishing and memorable images in motion picture history. Willis wrote the book on visual effects but Harryhausen expanded it into a Bible still referenced by movie magicians today. Like Obie, Ray could breathe a soul into his puppets, giving them a heartfelt reality missing from many of today’s CGI output, and a natural empathy many actors would kill for.

Of course, in subsequent appearances, Kong was reduced to a man in a gorilla suit. This cheaper route has its own odd rewards, however, especially for the hardcore B movie buff who likes to see a toy plane dangling from a wire now and then. These simple pleasures are abundantly obvious in the two Japanese made Kong flicks from the ’60s, KING KONG VS. GODZILLA (1962) and KING KONG ESCAPES (1966), just released in a twin DVD package from Universal. Both these movies are often ridiculed and dismissed by Kong purists, but to me, they are pop art classics. I loved ‘em as a kid, and I still dig ‘em now, stupid as they inherently are.

Kong vs. Godzilla (finally available in letter-box format after several pan and scan video versions) was actually the first time the Big Ape had appeared onscreen since his 1933 debut, albeit now in a much goofier incarnation than when he was introduced. And this was only the third film appearance by the Big Lizard. The Japanese version was directed by the great Ishiro Honda, but for the American release there were new scenes, typically bad dubbing, confusing editing and a soundtrack culled from Universal’s garage, including cues from The Creature From the Black Lagoon. (Kong “wins” in both cuts, contrary to rumors of an alternate Japanese ending.) Also missing was the grim tone and relative seriousness of the original films. This flick was marketed more like a wrestling match — and looked just as fake — than a monumental milestone in movie history. The success of this family-friendly team-up also made Toho realize that Godzilla could be as big a matinee idol as Elvis so long as he avoided pursuing his career as a snooty thespian. (Ironically, Col. Parker had the same game plan in mind for his own boy, hence Blue Hawaii instead of another King Creole.) This movie is more on par with Al Adamson’s notorious ’70s schlock fest Dracula vs. Frankenstein than, say, Universal’s revered 1940s classic Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman. Still, it’s fun to watch Kong drinking from giant mugs of spiked berry juice and falling over drunk on his tiki island, fighting Big G like an enraged sumo wrestler, and peeling a (real) giant slimy octopus from his pointy rubber head.

Even more fun is the non-related King Kong Escapes, inspired by the Rankin-Bass cartoon show. It often plays more like an episode of the TV series Batman than a monster movie, with elements of swingin’ spy cinema popular at the time. After the obligatory island voyage, Kong and his human pals take on the evil Dr. Who and his awesome invention MechaKong, a giant robot duplication of the real (man in an ape suit) thing.

MechaKong is just too, too cool, man. I could put it in more sophisticated terms but that sums up the appeal for me. The miniatures are actually quite effective, too, especially the scenes set up at Dr. Who’s snowbound Arctic hideaway. I fondly remember being totally enthralled by this movie when I saw it at the drive-in as a little tyke, and seeing it again made me goose-pimply with nostalgia.

Those goose pimples got goose pimples when, courtesy of Sony’s Wonder DVD division, I was able to re-visit the inspiration for Kong Escapes, the original KING KONG animated series that ran on Saturday morning TV in the mid-’60s. Few I’ve talked to remember this early example of “Anime” — actually made in Japan for an American audience, a first — but the rousing theme song alone has never left me (“Ten times as big as a man!”). Seeing it again as “grown-up,” I realize in retrospect why I was so enchanted by this show as an impressionable tyke, and why it’s stuck with me for so long, since that’s obviously the target audience, without any subversive “camp” elements to make it more palatable for adults. The stories are always simplistic, sometimes insultingly so, and the animation ranges from passable to a little better than average (the characters were co-designed by the great MAD illustrator, Jack Davis). Still, I highly recommend both volumes for kids of all ages (four half hour episodes apiece, including four installments of Tom of T.H.U.M.B., a silly spy spoof about a miniature secret agent). The fact that this friendly Kong was found on “Mondo Island” by a scientist and his young son (shades of Jonny Quest) excludes any reference to the original film. For this incarnation, Kong was reinvented for the cereal crowd, and I still enjoy watching it with a bowl of corn flakes today, for the sake of sheer, shameless nostalgia.

And not to be left off the banana-wagon, Sony/MGM DVD has reached deep into its vaults to revive the American International Pictures cult favorite KONGA (1961). This one stars the great British actor Michael Gough (Alfred in the ’90s Batman movie series) as a mad scientist who creates his own giant gorilla — out of a chimpanzee! — which then proceeds to wreak havoc on London. This was AIP’s “answer” to Kong the same way I Was A Teenage Werewolf, I Was A Teenage Frankenstein, Blood of Dracula, How To Make A Monster and Horrors of the Black Museum were their drive-in updates of Universal’s classic monsters from the ’30s and ’40s. Konga is indeed a man in a gorilla suit — a pretty neat one, I must say — and this colorful slice of exploitation contains some rather sordid material, but it’s still a must-have not only for Kong completists but for all devotees of classic cheesy cinema.

Already long available on the DVD market are several irreverent Kong-inspired movies from the ’70s like QUEEN KONG, MIGHTY PEKING MAN, A-P-E and of course the technically terrible but still curiously compelling Dino De Laurentis remake of KONG from 1976 starring Jessica Lange, as well as its almost irredeemably bad sequel from 1987, KING KONG LIVES. Take these journeys and bring these monsters home at your own peril.

Kong lives all right — whether as a stop motion puppet, a guy in an ape suit, or a computerized image — and most significantly, as an eternal movie star, a brutishly romantic figure still rampaging through the jungles of our collective dreams. Not even Beauty could kill this Beast.

Beatnik lounge lizard and writer Will “the Thrill” Viharo and his wife, Monica “the Tiki Goddess,” host a live cult movie cabaret called “Thrillville” at the Parkway Speakeasy Theater in Oakland, CA. Will also has a B-movie tiki lounge at home, where he watches his DVD collection while drinking homemade Mai Tais (which may have influenced these reviews somewhat).

Brothers in Jive
Review by Joanne Bennett

Cheese comes in all varieties, from the flavorless yet squeezably convenient Velveeta® to the delicate Camembert or the pungent and robust Gorgonzola. The same holds true for swing. Some varieties are barely palatable in terms of musicality, yet their kitsch appeal satisfies a certain craving. Others offer a complex assortment of notes and arrangements to be savored. By this reckoning, the Vienna-based combo Five in Love are the masters of cheese, crafting tunes that appeal to a variety of tastes.

On their latest release, Brothers in Jive, the sextet of Euro-hepcats serves up a platter of tracks suitable for a casual cocktail party. The eponymous opener is straight up the middle: a toe-tapping original in which singer Paul Kreshka introduces the other musicians. It is followed by the pleasant shuffle of “Wandering Shoes,” but the ensuing selections quickly veer toward the cheesy, in that Velveeta sorta way. This homespun southern gal was mildly offended by track three, “Bubba! (Don’t forget your rubba),” and underwhelmed by the cutesy lyrics of “Offshore.” The swing arrangement of Santana’s “Smooth” is intriguing, but fails to push the envelope, and hearing six Austrian men perform “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” is just disturbing.

That said, the album does offer a few flavors worth noting. Some of the better selections include the original “Rich White Man,” a jazzy rendition of Paul Simon’s “You Can Call Me Al,” and a swingin’ version of the Bangles’ hit, “Walk Like an Egyptian.” Kreshka also delivers more passion than usual on “Big Beat a Rockin”, and the CD closes on a very pleasant note with the melodic “Have a Good Time.”

If you’re a fan of swing-kitsch bands, like Lee Press-On and the Nails, or if you’re just looking for a good beat you can dance to, you may be pleased with Brothers in Jive. But if it’s exemplary musicianship you’re after, you’re better off turning to the classic artists of yesteryear.

Built of Stone
Review by Frankie Hagan

Performers have to be made of pretty sturdy stuff to endure the rigors and trials of the music industry. Thankfully, the Cigar Store Indians and their special brand of swingin’ rock ‘n’ roll, country western ballads and rockabilly riffs have stood the test of time.

The band has been long overdue in releasing a new album, and they do not disappoint their fans with their latest CD, Built of Stone (Overall Records). Two major changes separate this record from CSI’s previous two releases: The line-up has shifted slightly with the departure of Jim Lavender, known for a rockabilly-surf sound, to include the more traditional rock ‘n’ roll of new lead guitarist Jeff Sprayberry. Additionally, the tempo of these recordings is more subdued than El Baile De la Cobra, a CD known for fast-rocking swing tracks, and the songs on Built of Stone explore new directions.

The album’s opener “Hit Me” is a pleasing, fast-paced, energetic single, as would be expected from this group. But it is followed by a trio of reflective love-inspired tracks, highlighted in the glorious standout, “Other Side Of The Pillow,” which shows Ben Friedman’s excellence as a songwriter and is this reviewer’s pick for a great new western-styled swing. With the hard-rocking “Copycat Season,” the band subtly asks not to be pigeon-holed as they seek out new avenues of experimentation, growth and change.

Many of the tracks are reflective, from the misty “Ballerina Dressed in Black” to the album’s closer, “Nothing Else Matters.” “Blue Mountain Girl” is an interesting departure into hillbilly romance, while “Weight of the World,” a well-written, rockin’ number with a catchy riff, shows off the new lead guitarist. Overall, the skillful musicianship of band mainstays, like bassist Keith Perissi, drummer Paul Barrie, and lead singer and rhythm guitarist Ben Friedman, shows that the Cigar Store Indians are made of durable material, indeed.

Enjoyed this review? Click here for Frankie Hagan’s write-up on the film soundtrack to De-Lovely.

The High-Flying Life of Howard Hughes
By Leslie J. Thompson

Hughes (DiCaprio) is taken with the fiesty Kate Hepburn (Blanchett).

Kate Beckinsale as Ava Gardner

Hughes (DiCaprio) holds a press conference in front of the infamous Grey Goose

Ironically, one of the film’s few shortcomings is the prevalence of glaringly bad edits,the kind where someone is holding a spoon and then they’re not and then the spoon is back again, all within a few seconds as the camera angle shifts during a conversation. One of the most obvious such gaffes comes about halfway through the film, as Hughes sets out to break the air speed record in a new prototype plane. The close-up shots show DiCaprio in the cockpit with the glass canopy wide open, but the wide angle shots show the canopy closed (which would make sense, as this would reduce drag on the plane). Such observable flaws are especially disheartening in a movie that centers in large part around moviemaking, spearheaded by a skilled director, like Scorsese.

Still, it’s easy to forgive the few minor technical blunders when measured against the overall enjoyment of this Technicolor thrill ride. The vivid and immaculately tailored costumes alone are worth the ticket price. More than a glimpse into Hollywood history, however, The Aviator offers an intriguing look into the mind of a man who shaped much of how we experience our world today, and unveils the human foibles of a near mythological figure who, for many, remains larger than life.

Boy from Tupelo
Review by Frankie Hagan

It must have seemed like such a small thing, then: a young boy arriving at 706 Union Avenue in Memphis in 1953. He paid $3.98 to make a “custom record” and, as a special bonus, change the course of music history. That young man was Elvis Presley, and his impact on popular culture has spanned half a century. To coincide with the 50th anniversary of the recording of Elvis’ first single, “That’s All Right”–a moment some music historians refer to as the birth of Rock ‘n’ Roll–HEAR Music and BMG Special Products have released 15 Elvis classics on Boy From Tupelo.

It would be difficult for any Elvis collection to follow the recent #1 and #2 Hits albums, which included two “new releases” that achieved additional posthumous success for the King. But this compilation wants to make a different statement, about how the music itself was something special. Boy From Tupelo represents the talent and innovation that made Elvis go from being a white trash kid cutting a record for his mama to the biggest thing 20th century music would ever see. The tracks presented on this collection–in particular “That’s All Right,” “Blue Moon of Kentucky” and “Lawdy Miss Clawdy”–are about the synergy of styles that Elvis created by merging Country Western and the so called “black” music he knew so well from his roots. His was a new sound that would be the forerunner and champion for Rockabilly and Rock ‘n’ Roll.

The excitement of “Blue Suede Shoes” and “Good Rockin’ Tonight” seems obvious today, but it’s amusing to consider that at their recording, the sound Elvis was making defied classification. These songs and other standouts, like “Baby Let’s Play House” and “So Glad You’re Mine,” demanded more than the simple words a review might offer in praise or criticism, and are just as engaging today.

The music on Tupelo would be a credit to itself, even without the 20-page booklet of liner notes and early Elvis pictures. Suffice it to say, this may not be the flashiest of collections, with the largest array of hits, but it is easily one of the most significant. In a world where shows like American Idol manufacture stars in front of millions of people in their living rooms, it is important to reflect on the raw conditions that created one of the brightest stars of them all. Elvis’ humble beginnings and enduring legacy give credence to the adage that kings are born, not made.

Can’t get enough of the King? Click here to read Will “the Thrill” Viharo’s reviews of two new Elvis releases on DVD.

Back on Track
Review by Janine Veazue

I’ve never been a huge fan of the group uniform when it comes to rockabilly or western swing bands. There’s just something about a group of men all wearing the same neatly pressed honky-tonk shirts that unpacks repressed memories of dance recital costume trauma. This isn’t saying, however, that Rhythm Train’s wardrobe assistants should be the downfall of the sweet satisfaction that Back on Track (Raucous Records) brings to my ears.

It’s not that Rhythm Train insists on centering their lyrics around the cliche topics of drinking, women, and music that I love so much, it’s the way in which they use those cliches to epitomize the American western tradition. They don’t like their drinks hard and fast, but sing as if they were a guilty vice (” The girl on my left is looking better every beer “). They don’t want their women fast and dirty, but devoted and beautiful (” saved a place in my heart for your warm sweet embrace “).

The band hails from Switzerland, and lead guitar and vocal master Urs Odermatt consistently teeters between yodel and twang, yet keeps his talents on the straight and narrow. This switching through the album’s 17 tracks creates a fantastic feeling of true, solid, manly sorrow and celebration. Although it is obvious that it attempts to mimic the American musical tradition of rockabilly, it does so without mocking or attempting perfection. Simple, honest music, coming from men who, at times, seem a little overdressed for the occasion.

Settin’ the Pace
(Featuring vocalist Carla Cook)
Review by Doug Boynton

Settin’ the Pace (GJazz Records) from the George Gee Big Band is a fine CD, worth every dime I paid for it. Of course, I got my copy for nothing, and you need to decide if it’s worth 15 bucks.

The band–heavy on the sax, please–sounds much bigger than its listed 17 members. They play with some regularity at the legendary Birdland jazz club in New York, which isn’t a bad reference, at all. Without question, they can be very good; I’m just not sure this uneven disc is one of their better outings.

The album was directed (and mostly arranged) by legendary 76-year-old sax man Frank Foster, who has played sporadically for years with the Count Basie Orchestra. Recording was done at Peter Karl’s Studio in Brooklyn. To me, it sounds as if the studio is too “live,” meaning it has too much echo. I can’t tell if it’s the recording or the mixing, but the solos don’t stand out as they should–they’re often buried beneath the rest of the orchestra. And, whether the fault lies with the band, the arrangements, or the conducting, some tracks–”Mambo Inn” being an example–simply sound like cacophony.

All that said, a few tracks recommend this disc highly, particularly those featuring Carla Cook. A native of Detroit and nominated for a Grammy® in 1999, Cook reminds me of Nancy Wilson. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a good thing. Her voice, best in the lower ranges, is featured on three tracks: Oscar Hammerstein’s “Lover Come Back to Me,” Ray Noble’s classic, “The Very Thought of You,” and Johnny Mercer’s “Autumn Leaves.” The band–backing Ms. Cook rather than taking the lead–sounds smooth and really hits their stride. They do an equally solid job backing tenor sax man Lance Bryant as a vocalist on “I Don’t Want to Learn to Sing the Blues,” another winner.

The lively opener, “Out of Nowhere,” also grabs your attention. It showcases Gee’s sax section (channeling Billy May) perfectly, with Ed Pazant and Marshall McDonald on alto, Michael Hashim and Lance Bryant on tenor, and Howard Johnson on baritone. Trumpeter Walt Szymanski also turns in a fine performance,somewhat muted by that darn mixing problem,on “When Your Lover Has Gone.”

Although recorded in the studio, this disc sounds like a very good live performance. The band could be tighter on several tunes, and the production is less than optimal. On the other hand, I just recommended six cuts, or half the disc. I pay cash all the time for CDs and do much worse. If you can find this album on an online service, like iTunes, purchase the recommended cuts, and save yourself some money. Me? I’m looking for more by Carla Cook!

Doug Boynton is a journalist, mystery novelist, and the tune wrangler at www.girlsingers.org.

In Spy-Fi
Review by Will “The Thrill” Viharo

Every once in a while a band like the Metrolites–and there aren’t very many–comes along to remind you how good life can be. This swingin’ lounge combo from Iowa create a sonic tonic for your shattered modern nerves with their smooth but rockin’ cocktail mix of spy, monster and exotic sounds.

Percussionist/vocalist/theramin player Scott Morschhauser wrote most of the original tunes on the group’s debut CD, In Spy-Fi (Go Go Golem Records), including several versions of their theme, “The Man from M.E.T.R.O.” He also co-wrote with guitar goddess Kathleen Gallagher my favorite track, “Gunfight at the Zombie Mineshaft,” an ultra-cool instrumental conjuring images of a cinematic meeting between Sergio Leone and George Romero. “Cyclops Optometrist” is another standout on an album with nothing but winners.

They also offer a faithfully frenetic version of Burt Bacharach’s “The Blob,” but most of the CD is comprised of the band’s own numbers, hip B-movie hi-fi hybrids, like “Land of the Giants,” “The Abominable Dr. Vibes,” and socially conscious gems, such as “Middle Class Hell” and “TV Drugs,” proving their passions aren’t all pop culture stimulated. Employing sax, bongos, theremin, vibes and more in a unique yet classic context. The Metrolites now rival The Moon-Rays as the premiere Midwest Lounge Band. But this is like comparing the Stones to the Beatles. Plenty of room for both in a world gone mad.

Beatnik lounge lizard and writer Will “the Thrill” Viharo and his wife, Monica “the Tiki Goddess,” host a live cult movie cabaret called “Thrillville” at the Cerrito Speakeasy Theater in El Cerrito, CA. At home, he relaxes to groovy Vegas lounge, exotica, and heavy doses of Elvis while drinking homemade Mai Tais (which may have influenced these reviews somewhat).

Taboo: The Greatest Hits of Arthur Lyman
Review by Alden Gewirtz

Exotica fans, rejoice! With the release of this new Greatest Hits album from Empire Music Werks, Arthur Lyman finally gets his place in the sun. For those unfamiliar with his story, Lyman was a master percussionist who excelled at marimba, vibraphone, congas and bongos, among other instruments. He performed and recorded more than 30 records and 400 songs from the late 1950s until his death in 2002. Although his renown in the exotica genre has been somewhat eclipsed by Martin Denny and Les Baxter, Lyman’s music is more sincere, rarely resorting to gimmicky effects or kitschy arrangements (save for the remarkable, authentic-sounding birdcalls).

As in the title of one of his original LPs, this compilation showcases Lyman’s “many moods” and displays his musical range and influences. Of course, there are plenty of his classic exotica arrangements, like “Quiet Village,” “Taboo,” and his biggest hit, the Haitian melody “Yellow Bird.” But, he also interprets classical music (“Bolero,” “Scheherazade”), upbeat jazz (“Love for Sale,” “Caravan”), and late night lounge (“Midnight Sun”). As performed by his usual four-man combo, most of the songs have an intimate, cool-jazz feel.

Lyman’s recording technique was very sophisticated for its day. He used state-of-the-art three-track equipment, and songs were captured live in a futuristic, aluminum dome at the Hawaiian Village Hotel in Honolulu. Sounds were so bold and clear that music stores in the ’50s and ’60s routinely used Lyman’s albums to show off their newfangled “hi-fi” stereos. Those haunting and ethereal tones are duly preserved and honored in this digitally re-mastered compilation. At times Lyman’s music is as soothing as rolling ocean waves on a tropical shore. But it can also build to a climax as explosive as an erupting volcano.

The CD comes with a decent set of biographical liner notes and thumbnail photos of all his original album covers — a treat for those with holes in their vinyl collection. The album is a must have for any exotica fan looking to go beyond Martin Denny and Les Baxter. And it should raise the status of Lyman to the Big Kahuna.

Christmas Songs by Sinatra
Review by Frankie Hagan

Before he was the Chairman of the Board and made the words cool and swingin’ synonymous with himself, Frank Sinatra was a skinny young singer attempting to follow in the footsteps of his personal heroes, like Bing Crosby. Newly signed to Columbia Records, he was yet to have his fall from popularity and his return to prominence, or to attain his eternal hepcat status at the centerpiece of the Rat Pack. Christmas Songs by Sinatra, newly re-released for the holidays by Sony Records, collects all of the smooth yuletide standards recorded by the young king of croon during this Columbia period.

The album celebrates the great Christian holiday standards of yore, from “Jingle Bells” to “Joy to the World,” and includes previously unreleased alternate takes of lovely classics, like “White Christmas,” and “Silent Night, Holy Night.” Don’t be shocked, or even mildly surprised, by the fact that this disc never really swings–this would be the wrong recording period for that kind of originality in Sinatra’s Yuletide cheer. But, if you love a traditional lilt to your Christmas music, this is the collection for you.

The liner notes in the accompanying booklet are excellent, relating the history of the recordings and giving their appropriate release time stamp–a real treat for music aficionados. As a whole, this album allows the listener to chart the growth of a singer, and honestly enjoy some great music.

Lagoon!
Review by Jason Croft

Houston, Texas would seem like a strange place to find one of the swankest new exotica/space-age pop groups out there, but that’s home base for the talented tiki outfit Clouseaux. In their latest release, Lagoon! (Dionysus Records), the combo proves that exotica is strictly a state of mind. They’ve poured equal parts Martin Denny, Les Baxter, Arthur Lyman, Henry Mancini, Combustible Edison and Don Tiki into a bar blender and hit puree, then added a splash of surf guitar, tossed in a couple of cubes of prog rock, garnished with an umbrella, and served it all up in the coolest tiki mug they could find.

Clouseaux’s music is filled with that wonderful mix of hi-fi happiness and savage jungle sophistication. It’s epic and playful all in the same breath. There’s a frantic energy that pulsates from every track. Their jungle is one of exotic beauty and sizzling sensuality, but also a place of hidden danger where mystery lurks behind every palm tree. Picture a Moai head surrounded by dancing island girls all singing for you during the climax of a torch-lit ritual while headhunters hide in the background.

The album really comes alive on the tracks “The Kiss of Ku,” “Krakatoa,” and “Noctopia.” Earlier versions of some songs, like “Reum with a View,” “A Most Excellent Flying Death” and the afore-mentioned “Krakatoa,” appeared on Clouseaux’s self-titled debut. However, their Lagoon! versions seem more fleshed-out and developed. They also reveal a stylistic shift between that first album and the current one,an evolution between the space-age side of things to the exotica one. This happened during their E.P. Destination: Oasis, which also features a lot of the Lagoon! material and is well worth searching out.) With Lagoon!, Clouseaux have truly found their tiki spirit–their Aku-Aku if you will–and we are all the better for it.

Hear Clouseaux on the Bachelor Pad Radio Show, hosted by Jason Croft, the swingin’ proprietor of Java’s Bachelor Pad.

Intoxicating Sounds
Review by Frankie Hagan

The beauty of the instrumental is that there are no words. Think about that: no words. Without verbal binding to the music, mood is allowed to prevail. Mood, idea, emotion, and ambiance. And then reflection. That’s the genius of the Martini Kings and their new release, Intoxicating Sounds (SwingOMatic Records).

The Martini Kings have been a well-used cocktail band in California for some time, dispensing retro classics from the ’40s to the ’60s. Though the music is great background fodder, don’t be fooled: This is a marketable dance album for a number of rhythms.

As you imbibe the proffered tracks, you can almost picture yourself sitting at the corner table tracing the rim of your glass with a finger and lost in thought. It just doesn’t get any more reflective. The sublime sounds are generated by vibes, bass and drums (with a bit of guitar and sax). The opening track, “Bags and Trane,” is lovely smooth lindy or foxtrot material, whereas “The Days Of Wine And Roses” is an ethereal slow mambo or fast rumba (or a bossa nova), and “Water Melon Man” treads that groovy line of cha-cha. This reviewer’s personal favorites for ambiance or dance include a great lounge rendition of “Green Onions,” and a traveling more uptempo take on “Fly Me To The Moon.”

Swingin’ lounge enthusiasts or traditional ballroom dancers looking for a few new cuts will all be happy with this album, either for mood or for dance possibilities. Those who think vibes are only prevalent in elevator music might want to look for jazzy ensembles that select other instrumentation. Cocktails should come in several varieties, after all, and the Martini Kings always provide extra olives.

The Scourge of the South
Review by Janine Veazue

Back when rock was still in its infancy and considered scandalous by the general populous, teenagers flocked to small garage and backyard shows in defiance of parental distain and in celebration of their musical rebellion. Today, as that rebellion has been co-opted into a world of top Billboard hits and glossy packaging, the Tremors bring us back to that raw backyard feel, giving listeners the opportunity to bop to a hearty rockabilly beat.

Their newest album on Brain Drain Records, The Scourge of the South, seamlessly incorporates the Tremors’ adoration of mentors, such as Carl Perkins and Jerry Lee Lewis, with the raw rock sound that has evolved since times past. This combination of new and old is best reflected in “Rockin’ All the Time,” in which front man Jimmy Tremor brings a bit of the modern devil rockabilly strut into what could otherwise be mistaken for a song at the local VFW mixer.

Slim Perkins (upright bass) and Stretch Armstrong (percussion) deliver a mean, low, foot-tapping bass beat. Just make sure you don’t sit too close to the speakers, as Jimmy Tremor frequently oversteps his ability to slingshot his voice to new heights in such songs as “Pill Popper” and “Call To My Reward.” The Tremors also run ragged with production quality, but they use it to their advantage, filling their songs with images of cats, kittens, drinking, dancing and simple rocking out–cliche, perhaps, in this time of rockabilly and psychobilly revival, but with this trio, you truly believe they sing from life experience.

This is not music for the cute cherry purse and hair pomade crowd. This is music for the hard-drinkin’, tattooed, backwoods kind of rockabilly listener.