Miss Piggy Lunchbox

I barely had enough time or energy to make these, much less write about them.  Still, they’re done and in the hands of their recipients, so I’m going to at least get a blog post out of them.

As always, these are mixes that represent an intersection of what I think the recipients would like and what I reviewed here on MPL in 2009.  Whether the music was released in 2009 is irrelevant, and in fact very little of it was.  Eligible contributing CDs run from The Nields’ If You Lived Here You’d Be Home By Now to A Man About A Horse’s Does Not Exist.

These mixes suck. Hard.  Cuz of that lack-of-time-and-energy thing. And because my busy year gave me fewer songs from which to choose.

Volume K
1. Stand Up Comedy - U2
2. Postcards - The Cutters
3. Government Center - Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers
4. Twa Recruiting Sergeants - The Old Triangle
5. Girlfiend In A Coma - The Smiths
6. Sex Euro and Evils Pop - Messer Chups
7. Wouldn’t Mama Be Proud? - Elliott Smith
8. Catch A Collapsing Star - The Mendoza Line
9. I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) - The Proclaimers
10. Does This Mean You’re Moving On? - The Airborne Toxic Event
11. Seven Years Gone - Quasi
12. Just To Know You’ve Been Dreaming - Will Johnson
13. Such Great Heights - Iron And Wine
14. The Wrestler - Bruce Springsteen
15. Heavier Than 3 Lbs. - A Man About A Horse
16. Carry On - Spacehog
17. Let Me In - R.E.M.
18. St. Teresa - Joan Osborne
19. (Love Is) The Tender Trap - Frank Sinatra
20. How Deep Is Your Love - The Bad Plus

Volume S
1. 9 To 5 - Dolly Parton
2. Li Li - The Cutters
3. Sometime Around Midnight - The Airborne Toxic Event
4. Barracuda - The Bad Plus
5. Our Haunt - Palomar
6. Wolfman’s Brother - Phish
7. Crazy Baby - Joan Osborne
8. Will The Night - Low
9. Aase’s Death - Grieg
10. Belated Promise Ring - Iron And Wine
11. Then I Met You - The Proclaimers
12. How Soon Is Now? - The Smiths
13. L.A. - Elliott Smith
14. Strangers Out Of The Blue - St. Thomas
15. Try For The Sun - The Old Triangle
16. Preface - Vincent & Mr. Green
17. Mainstreaming - Kaada
18. Flor de Leis - Slow Dazzle
19. Hopeless Bird - A Man About A Horse

2009 MPL awards to follow.

Ten Summoner’s Tales is an exemplar of a type of CD that makes me re-evaluate what a CD review means on MPL.  The tradeoff these CDs pose is whether to write from more of an evaluative perspective or a personal one.  Due to the style of the non-CD review content of this blog, I’ve always come down on the personal side, but coming across a well-executed CD that does not grab me always causes a re-assessment.

When I was taking my reviewing class four(!) years ago, my instructor pointed out that you should review something to give others an idea of whether or not they’d like it.  His gig was primarily movies, so his example was, "If you don’t like horror movies, when you review a horror movie you should evaluate it on whether or not somebody who likes horror movies would like it."  I don’t disagree with that approach at all, and use it as one of many guideposts in my reviews, but for a couple of reasons, it’s not really what I do here.

For one, I think it’s a bit of an old media mindset.  I don’t mean that as a pejorative; I just think that in an era when there were fewer sources of information and opinion, this quasi-objectivity made sense.  Now, though, you can get all kinds of opinions on musical artists and their output, and I feel the only reason to be read is to be interesting.

The main reason I tend to give more weight to my reaction, though, is that this blog is about me.  It’s essentially a public journal.  It may seem like I’m writing about a CD or a politician or a baseball game, but I’m really writing about my reaction to that thing.  Offhand I can only think of one regular reader I’ve ever had who didn’t know me personally.  I’m fine with that because, again, what I want to do with MPL is create a record of my life, and a record of how I’ve felt about collections of music serves as a pretty damned good proxy of my life.

So while I could spend time writing about Sting’s intelligently-written music, the proficiency of his supporting musicians, his clever lyrics, or the expertly-engineered sound, none of that captures the fact that these songs just do not grab me.  Where I should hear passion I hear chilliness and distance.  I respect the music, but I can’t love it.

I have always felt this sense of detachment from Sting’s music, and it’s always amazed me how passionate his fans are about his music.  No matter how much I listen, I cannot understand how he affects so many people so deeply.  I imagine that a KEN who loved Sting would be one that would write a review like this for, say, Faith No More’s Angel Dust, praising its execution and brilliance, but left alienated by the overwhelming assault on his ears.

I like plenty of music that might be described as passionless.  In particular, big chunks of the avant-garde music and death metal I praise do not grab me in the same way this doesn’t.  The difference is that those CDs tend to be more cerebral, exciting the puzzle-solving neurons of my brain, which in turn engage me in a sort of passionate way.  Sting’s music is smart, yes, but it’s not quite at that level of stimulation.

So, in the spirit of my reaction to this album, let’s polish this off professionally but dispassionately.  High points are the clever lyrics in "Seven Days," the emotional depth of "Fields Of Gold," and the nearly emotional "It’s Probably Me."  Low points are the ridiculous spoken portion of "St. Augustine In Hell," the ponderous incessance of "Heavy Cloud No Rain," and Sting’s insertion of his opinions of politics, war, and technology into a love song ("If I Ever Lose My Faith In You").

If I were evaluating this album on its terms, for what it intends to be, I would have no problem giving it my highest rating.  For MPL, though, I’ll just shake its hand, thank it for the occasional stimulation, and be on my way.

Rating:
  
Mixers: "Fields Of Gold"
Keepers: “Love Is Stronger Than Justice (The Munificent Seven),” “Seven Days,” “It’s Probably Me," "Shape Of My Heart”
Filed Between: The Steve Miller Band (Greatest Hits 1974-78) and Stinkfish (…Does It Again)

Given that all the other lists of this sort come out on December 1, I’m two months late with this.  But we’ve been over the reasons for that.

This is the second annual MPL’s top ten CD list.  2009, however, was relatively light on the CD reviews, due mostly to busy spring and fall quarters, reviewing massive collections like Beethoven’s symphonies and Melvins v. Minneapolis, and spending a lot of my time reviewing Wagner’s Ring.  As a result, I only reviewed six CDs that came out in 2009.

So here they are, MPL’s top ten six albums of 2009:

4.5 lunchboxes:
1) The Bad Plus: For All I Care

4 lunchboxes:
2) Iron And Wine: Around The Well

3.5 lunchboxes (in no particular order):
3) U2: No Line On The Horizon
4) Melvins: Pick Your Battles, Live in Berkeley 1989/Boston 2008

2 lunchboxes: (in no particular order):
5) Bruce Springsteen: Working On A Dream
6) Covered, A Revolution In Sound: Warner Bros. Records

Last year I reviewed 10 2008 albums that received four or more lunchboxes.  In 2009 I only reviewed two that achieved that score.  And 2009 didn’t have a single five lunchbox album, at least not that got reviewed here and, really, did it even happen if it didn’t get reviewed here?  Sucks to be 2009.  But of course that’s been covered elsewhere.  At least Melvins made the top ten list two years running.

Although I am older than I seem
At least I have some hopes and know to dream
…
You only have so long to live
So surround yourself with friends who can forgive

- “Heavier Than 3 Lbs.”

Remember that band in high school that was sooooo good you just couldn’t figure out why they weren’t huge?  That’s A Man About A Horse…except now they’re not sleeping with your girlfriend because they’re half your age.  On second thought, they’re probably still sleeping with your girlfriend.

The feel of this album is that of youthful exuberance so contagious you can’t help but look forward to everything before you in life.  If the world has produced this out of a set of kids, how can the upcoming generation of musicians, nay, artists, inventors, and statespeople, not completely change everything for the better?

That’s the sort of generational belief an album like this instills.  Every listen reveals some new point of excellence.  There are ten great songs, all with an inventive style that keeps things fresh and hooks that won’t leave you alone spread over 40 minutes of well-structured composition.  The lyrics are just as fantastic and varied.  You’d think that the “how do you talk to girls” song had been overdone, but vocalist Josh Castillo makes you think he’s the only guy who’s ever had trouble with the ladies on “Body Trembles.”  Then there’s the genius simultaneous punch to the gut, slap to the funny bone, and scratch to the head of “Purple Leaf”: “I have only one thing that I can truly give to you/If I could be so bold/It’s not my heart or some bullshit cliche line like that/It’s worth more than my heart/It’s a single purple leaf that grows beneath the Ponderosa tree.” The product really does belie the youth of its generators.

As good as it is, and it’s great, with 17 years between you and high school you can now start to hear maybe why these guys aren’t quite having money thrown at them just yet.  The sound is a little thin and unsatisfying, sometimes leaving a feeling of true greatness lying just out of reach.  Vocalist Josh Castillo’s voice is fine but he’s pushing his range here and can’t always get to where he wants to go.  I find that effect endearing and part of the whole contagious youthfulness thing, particularly on the amazing “Hopeless Bird,” but now I understand it’s not a recipe for general audience success.

It’s still a little mind-boggling that these guys aren’t monster huge, though.  There’s clearly enough talent here to garner widespread appeal.  Camille Paglia has said that rock musicians are America’s greatest resource, and she’s probably right.  Technology has gone a long way toward more efficient development of those resources, but for the second time this year I find myself torn between elation at having discovered a true gem in a sea of mediocre music and cynicism at how hard it is for truly great bands to get their deserved spoils.

Rating:
  
Mixers: “Heavier Than 3 Lbs.,” “Hopeless Bird”
Keepers: everything else
Filed Between: Malfunkshun (Friendship Ring) and Marilyn Manson (Lunchbox)

I won’t make promises I know I cannot keep

- “Beautiful Girl”

Anything reminiscent of Pigs In Space has to be good.  Other than the name of the band, though, the only thing this recording has in common with that Muppets Show sketch is that it hearkens back to a 70’s subculture.  There’s a little sci-fi in here, but just enough to recall the spaced-out, swaggering riffs of this album’s targeted subculture flashback: British glam rock circa T. Rex.

Sometimes it’s hard to keep track of who’s singing on this disc.   While the Langdon brothers are the credited vocalists, they channel Mick Jagger on “Anonymous” and Axl Rose on the album’s highlight, “2nd Avenue,” and they do an amazing impression of Michael Stipe on “Almond Kisses.”  Wait, that actually is Michael Stipe…wow, that makes it even harder.

But that’s about the only thing that’s hard about this disc.  It struts right out of the speakers with its leather pants and flashpots from the get go, ripping off a soaring guitar solo here, adding chorused vocals there.  It’s all immediately in your face, completely unashamed of what it is.

Unfortunately it blows its wad a little early, like a 19-year-old boy pulling out every trick he knows on the first f**k.  It doesn’t make it any less good, its just that on the fifth go-around the thrill is a little bit gone, the promise slightly unfulfilled as you realize, oh yeah, I did get it all the first time or two…that was great.  This is an album you wish wouldn’t have called after that first encounter so you could have in your head how great a long-term relationship would have been instead of the disillusionment, albeit an enjoyable one, you’re now stuck with.

Rating:
  
Mixers: “Goodbye Violet Race,” “Mungo City,” “2nd Avenue,” “Carry On”
Non-keeper: “Skylark”
Filed Between: South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut soundtrack and Sparks vs. Faith No More (“This Town Ain’t Big Enough For The Both Of Us”)

Little things that just don’t matter
Still could get me mad as a hatter

- “Hot Shit”

Quasi either took a sharp left turn on this record, or I just wasn’t paying close attention before. In the past their lyrics seemed to lie firmly in fantasy, describing Seuss-like worlds where fluent animals in unlikely situations acted out impossible and nonsensical scenarios. There’s a little bit of that on Hot Shit!, but the lyrics are now much more strikingly and overtly political.

Released in 2003, the anti-war message is inescapable. Explicit insults are handed out to W and the administration in “White Devil’s Dream” and the 9/11 imagery of “Seven Years Gone” is unambiguous. Here, though, lyricist Sam Coomes still does let the esoteric creep in by assigning playground nicknames to members of the cabinet. “Seven Years Gone” also seems to foreshadow Bush’s political isolation at the end of his presidency by drawing a comparison between him and The Flying Dutchman, while  “Master & Dog” excoriates both parties as “the elephant wields the rod while the donkey throws you a bone/I’d rather have a bone than a beating I suppose,” in lyrics that are applicable at times when Democrats are in power, too. By the end of the song, Coomes goes the full kill-‘em-all, all-politicians-are-corrupt proletariat route and throws up his hands at the whole system: “Master is the country squire/And the housedogs lay by the fire/But it gets pretty hard for the dogs in the yard.” As much as I try to make lemonade out of our political system, it’s hard not to let these lyrics resonate as our squires let yard dogs without health care die every day…to take the analogy to its non-poetic ends.

Things changed far more for Quasi lyrically than they did musically onthis release. Take away the lyrics and this fits right in with their previous catalog. What Quasi does best they do even better here, namely mix dissonance and atonality into wonderfully crafted pop songs in a way that’s impossible not to notice but is also very appealing. I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend this band to anybody that liked catchy melodies and safe music, but they push the boundaries everywhere. They’re like the perfect introduction to experimental music.

In the past the band has tended to separate these two elements, leaving an abrasive song here and a song from The Beatles’ lost tapes there. On this disc, though, it’s all put together perfectly. Every song is the perfect mix of everything Quasi does and the album itself is crafted without flaw, with each song being the perfect one to follow the one it does, resulting in what might be the most palatable middle finger to consonance of all time.

Rating:

Mixers: “Seven Years Gone,” “Drunken Tears,” “Mama Tried,” “No One,” “Good Times”
Keepers: everything else
Filed Between: Quasi’s The Sword Of God and Queen (The Platinum Collection)

I can’t get that sound out of my head
I can’t even figure out what’s making it

- “I Would Hurt A Fly”

When we last heard from Built To Spill in this little corner of the Web, we reviewed the band’s There’s Nothing Wrong With Love and said that band leader Doug Martsch needed to more fully embrace the catchy melodies he had a such a knack for writing. Of course, I was saying this fifteen years after the album’s release, so it should be no surprise, even if musicians did give my criticism the considered weight it deserves, that twelve years ago Martsch went in completely the opposite direction for that album’s follow-up, Perfect From Now On.

In the end, it’s probably a good thing, as this is a significantly superior effort. It helps that Martsch improved a different strength mentioned in that review, his guitar playing. Turn it up, because this is an album best listened to at high volumes, where, at the climaxes of many of these tracks, you can let his three guitar lines wash over you and, just when you’ve had enough, feel the sweet relief of a moaning cello, soothing you just enough to prepare you for the next onslaught of Martsch’s six-string wall of sound. This is one of those albums that’s best to listen to drunk, when your ears aren’t working so well. By increasing the volume and altering your perception, it’s like you can hear a different sonic intent.

This is a disc of well-connected moments, and the more you listen, the more moments you hear, the more vividly you hear the previously heard moments, and the more well-connected they all become. From the vivid evocation of eternity in the opening track to the pumping grooves at the end of the seductive builds on “I Would Hurt A Fly,” “Stop The Show,” and “Velvet Waltz,” with the middle song’s dismissive take down of music critics, to some of the best drumming I’ve every heard on “Kicked It In The Sun,” where “we’re special…in ways our mothers appreciate,” to the glorious battle between the harmonic progression of the band and the stubbornly static guitar of the final track, this album intrigues at first and seems to change and surprise with every listen thereafter.

To get a sense of just one of those moments, here is said evocation of the afterlife from “Randy Describes Eternity.” Imagine these lyrics bleeding out slowly at a measured, determined pace:

Every thousand yearsThis metal sphere
Ten times the size of Jupiter
Flies just past the Earth
You climb on your roof
And take a swipe at it
With a single feather
And you do it once every thousand years
Until you’ve worn it down to the size of a pea
Yeah, I’d say that’s a long time
But it’s only half a blink in the place we’re going to be.

What a sense of scale: thousand years, ten times the size of Jupiter, single feature, pea, half a blink. The content isn’t all of it, either, as the anxiety-filled, rocking (in the chair sense) arrangement followed by the narrator’s insistence on achieving nirvana though mistake-free living adds even greater gravitas to the situation, bringing me back vividly to dogmatic and illogical but well-intentioned Sunday mornings of my youth.

This album still has some of the problems of There’s Nothing Wrong With Love. It’s definitely got a same-key problem, which is likely because Martsch’s vocal range is about 90% of an octave. Certain hooks still come back once or twice two often, and all but pretty much the last track features the same structure. They all start mewly and slow, feature a big build somewhere in the second or third minute, then rock it out until the end with an optional breakdown in the middle…all just to repeat again on the next track. It’s a great formula, but it’s formulaic, y’know what I’m saying? Still, those weakenesses are far less glaring here than they were on the previously reviewed album. There’s Nothing Wrong With Love was very good. This is great.

Rating:

Mixers: “Stop The Show,” “Untrustable/Part 2 (About Someone Else)”
Keepers: everything else
Filed Between: There’s Nothing Wrong With Love and Bulgarian Women’s Choir (Tour ’93 – Melody Rhythm & Harmony)

I’ve just about got this down to a science now. I knew I was going to detest this album and that the distress of spending any more time than I had to with it would take years off of my life, so I held on to a great album preceding it until I knew I would have enough clearance in my schedule to get through this one quickly. In the spirit of just pushing ahead, I’m not going to go into too many details about why this CD is as awful as it is. I will give you just two things to hate on.

First, every single song here starts off with some simplistic guitar riff that cuts through the rest of the instruments, lasts 2.5 to 3.5 bars, pauses for the remainder of the four-bar stanzas, and is repeated either four or eight times before the vocal track comes in. There’s no composition, it’s just annoying-riff/pause/repeat. Every. Single. Song. I’m not sure how nobody noticed this, because it bugged me for the only two Soup Dragons songs I’d heard before I got this CD (one of which was “Divine Thing” which is the song you probably know from this disc and has some redeeming qualities).

The second hate-worthy feature is the inanity of the lyrics. I’ll provide a couple of examples.

The first example is from “Getting Down.” “Every way you move/And everything you choose/Has a special flair/That’s apparent by your hair.” I don’t know…I guess he really wanted to rhyme flair. Then there’s “Dream-On (Solid Gone),” which goes “As your lips reach mine/It just feels like heaven.” “Just”? Needed another syllable and couldn’t come up with anything better?

Okay, I can’t leave it there, because there’s also the most insipid rock lyric ever, from “Everything”. “You elevate in a special way/You turn the night into day.” Wow…night into day…I’m breathless…where did you come up with that?

Oh, and I have to share The Soup Dragons’ artist page on VH1. The “featured album” is this album’s follow-up…from 1994. And the latest “News” is that singer Sean Dickson is turning 31…in 1998. Put that in the you-know-a-band-is-dead-when column.

Rating:

Mixers: none
Keepers: “Divine Thing,” “Everything”
Filed Between: Soundgarden (Down On The Upside) and South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut soundtrack

Is there anything I could do
That someone doesn’t do for you?

- “Coast To Coast”

This is a tough album to review, as it’s the one Smith was working on at the time of his tragic death. His former producer finished it off with the help of his former girlfriend and bassist (that’s one person), and it was released almost exactly one year after he died. A darkness encompassed it for a while, but after listening enough to get past that pall I was rewarded with yet another fantastic set of songs.

Figure 8, this album’s predecessor, got more attention, and kind of served as Smith’s breakthrough, but listening through the four albums of his I now have, Figure 8 is a bit of a lull on the way from where he was on XO to where he was here. Here he has the more varied instrumentation and huge sonic sledgehammers (“Don’t Go Down,” “Strung Out Again,” and “King’s Crossing” alls feature giant guitar waves socking you in the gut) of Figure 8 combined perfectly with the heart-wrenching falsetto of XO.

While a great album, this album still falls just short of the stratosphere reserved for higher ratings, in part because, like Figure 8, it takes a bit of a nosedive for about the last third, with “Little One” being a complete throwaway, “A Passing Feeling” featuring a too-strident piano, and “The Last Hour” making you work too hard to find its delicate melody inside of its sniveling exterior. Still, this doesn’t end all bad, as “Shooting Star,” which I’m pretty sure is about a girl I dated in college, carries the entire second half:

Going up some stream
To fuck some trophy boy…
When it was me
I was momentarily proud
Drunk on dreams
…
No one gets off with you very long
‘Cause you don’t feel bad when you lie
…
Your love is sad, shooting star

The lesson here, clearly, is don’t f**k with Smith’s heart, as he’ll immortalize your evil in song. There’s plenty more amazing in the lyrics, like “Coast To Coast,” where the entire song is spent with a tough facade about how he’ll forget everything only to beg back in at the end, or “Twilight,” where he turns down a potential new love to stay with his current baby because, among other practical reasons, “If I went with you/I’d disappoint you, too.” He nails the short-form answer as well, with fantastic succint metaphors like a girl who was “cracked as The Liberty Bell” or his “heavy metal mouth.”

I’ve given all three of Smith’s albums reviewed on this blog four lunchboxes, and I’d probably give the same rating to XO, too, if I were to review that one. In some ways that’s not fair, but I’ve listened to them all again and stand by my ratings. Smith’s an elite songwriter with an amazing amount of emotion in his voice that carries his incredible melodies perfectly. He makes my guts weep…but there’s always a handful of songs on an album that keep it from my highest ratings. That said, if I were to rank the four I have, this one would probably be at the top, though Either/Or would be awfully close behind if not tied. Figure 8, while a very good album, would be my least favorite…too much weakness. There’s a very clear line between the top two and bottom two. This is a high four lunchboxes.

Rating:

Mixers: “Coast To Coast,” “Don’t Go Down,” “King’s Crossing,” “Twilight,” “Shooting Star”
Non-keepers: “Ostrich & Chirping,” “Little One”
Filed Between: Smith’s Figure 8 and The Smiths (Singles)

The Norwegians don’t come out looking so great on this one, as the Finnish Sibelius’ pieces outshine Greg’s considerably. The Norwegians don’t really have a rivalry with Finland, as Finland’s culture, language, and history are quite distinct from the strict Scandinavia of Norway, Sweden, and Denmark. Heck, even Iceland has more in common with those countries than Finland. But due to their shared boarder and approximate shapes, people like to lump the two together. Moreover, the point is that if you put Grieg on a CD we don’t appreciate it not being the best thing on said CD.

But who knows if Sibelius’ pieces really are better than Grieg’s. I can tell you that these specific performances are, but for the first time I really feel like a classical music reviewer as I am able to have a strong preference for two different recordings of the same piece. Despite the strengths of his other two pieces and the relative shortcomings of Grieg’s, it’s Sibleius’ “The Swan of Tuonela” that fails so miserably here. I reviewed another CD with a version of the piece on it about a year ago, and though I didn’t comment much on it, it did get kept. Even without that version, I’m not sure the recording here would get kept. Despite having the same conductor and soloist, the versions are markedly different. All the weight and passion are gone, and the English horn doesn’t even sound like an English horn. I’ve always been skeptical up until now about whether all the ink that’s spilled over which version of which pieces are the best is worthwhile, but now that I can contrast these two I believe it. If the same conductor, orchestra, and soloist on the same record label, can make the same piece sound so dramatically different, it’s an entirely new game.

Sibelius’ other two pieces on here shine. “Valse Triste” is a brilliant combination of 20th century compositional techniques overlaid on an 18th century musical form, while Finlandia still rings with a bold nationalism that, for all its pitfalls, still vigorously and animatedly denounces Soviet influence in Finland, presciently summing up a culture’s passion and music’s direction decades after its 1899 date of composition.

Grieg’s macro pieces on this disc are the Peer Gynt and From Holberg’s Time suites. You know Peer Gynt, or at the very least you know “In The Hall Of The Mountain King” and probably “Morning Mood” (listen here and here). Originally written as an accompaniment to Ibsen’s five-act play of the same name, Peer Gynt is now most commonly played in the much smaller format of the two suites presented here. They’re very good, in particular the gorgeously orchestrated build and release of “Aase’s Death” and the dramatic, vivid beginning to “The Abduction Of The Bride.” However, there’s also a little bit of blandness, as in parts of “Arabian Dance” and “Peer Gynt’s Return Home,” though, to be fair, this is likely not as noticeable when performed programmatically with Ibsen’s play. “Morning Mood” is cliché by now, as I’m certain I’m watching a commercial whenever I hear it, but it’s still magnificent and overcomes its modern associations. “In The Hall Of The Mountain King,” unfortunately, does not overcome its omnipresence in modern culture. It doesn’t help that it follows “Anitra’s Dance,” which might have well come straight out of the also overplayed Nutcracker. It gets kept, though, in part to keep the suite together.

From Holberg’s Time is a suite written in 1884 to celebrate the 200th anniversary of the birth of a Danish-Norwegian playwright, and, as its title suggests, is a collection of courtly dances. Like Peer Gynt, I find it to be a mixed bag as well. There’s nothing bad in the bunch, but the “Sarabande” and “Gavotte” can’t even really sniff the jock of the magnificent “Praludium” or “Air.”

This is an enjoyable if not entirely remarkable CD pretty much all the way through. I’ll always think of it as something of a disappointment, though, since Deutsche Grammophon, von Karajan, and the Berlin Philharmonic can all do so much better, especially given the material these two composers provide.

Rating:

Mixers: Peer Gynt Suite 1: “Aase’s Death,” From Holberg’s Time: “Praludium”
Non-keepers: From Holberg’s Time: “Sarabande,” “Gavotte;” “The Swan Of Tuonela”
Filed Between: Grieg/Schumann (Grieg: Piano Concerto in A Minor / Schumann: Piano Concerto in A Minor (perf. Leif Ove Andsnes, cond. Mariss Jansons, orch. Berlin Philharmoniker))and Gruntruck (Inside Yours)