Music Week (6:1)

Delayed again, but here are a few select reviews to tide you over.

Last week’s Music Week was delayed until Friday, but I had a chance to cut some corners and released an excerpt as Music Week in Advance on Wednesday. I hoped it might draw some attention to my Notes on Everyday Life newsletter, which I’ve been struggling with getting going. After that, a second post on Friday about Thoughts that wake me up in a bad mood, and the full-blown Music Week post, some things looked up. I picked up another half-dozen subscribers. I’ve read that one secret to this racket is posting frequently, but I’ve had trouble with that. It’s not that I don’t new material write every day, but I tend to hold it back for big compilation, or just hide it away in the recesses of my notebook. In the case of Loose Tabs, that runs the risk of obsolescence. (Although I suppose this way I’m less likely to get faked out by Trump’s yo-yoing on Armageddon.)

That’s less of an issue for Music Week, as at most a preview here will buy you a day or two. So while I had contemplated posting bits from forthcoming Loose Tabs, I wasn’t expecting to make Music Week previews a regular practice. But I was pleased with last week’s prototype, and also grateful that the extra day let me lay out a more leisurely introduction. And I found myself thinking that this may be a good way to make sure I post more frequently. It also breaks up the routine of ranting about politics over and over and over again. (I’m currently sitting on 15,104 words of the next Loose Tabs, and several long comments there could be fashioned into posts here.) And it encourages me to make an editing pass instead of trying to rush out whatever I have at the last moment.

Accordingly, I’ve worked out a new naming convention, where (6:1) means 6th month (June) and 1st post within that month (to be followed by 2, 3, etc.; quite possibly these will be weeks, but I’m not committing to that — indeed, Music Week may itself become merely notional, as I continue to slow down). And after this week, I’ll assume I no longer have to explain myself here.

Again, my idea is to pull out 6–8 reviews, spruce them up a bit, and offer them with little introduction or additional news. (Nine this week, so that’s a loose target. Substack has a gallery widget for 2–4 pictures, so for now at least that’s another convention.) The full Music Week post should appear in a day or two on the blog, with stats, notes on everything I listened to, and a more expansive (and often more personal) introduction. I’m dropping the source notes here, but you can look them up on Music Week. Most records these days are streamed with one or two plays, but I still get some jazz promos (very little of anything else, although 30-45% of what I review is non-jazz).

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David Ambrosio/Donny McCaslin/Ingrid Jensen/Bruce Barth/Victor Lewis: Civil Disobedience: Blue Note in the Progressive Sixties (2026, Blue Frog): I moved the bassist to the front of the credits list (his name is bottom-center on the cover), as he seems to be the driving force here, amid more famous musicians on tenor sax, trumpet, piano, and drums. While Blue Note was the preeminent label of the early 1960s, after 1965 it quickly went to pot, shedding key artists while simply shelving others, dodging the more stridently political atmosphere as commerce drifted toward fusion and funk. The idea here is to authentically remake compositions from the shelved period, which means restoring them to the golden age of hard bop. No doubt the musicians have the chops for that task. As for the politics, it’s a sign of the times that mainstream music of sixty years ago is once again challenging and undermining the fascist culture cops. B+(**)

Big K.R.I.T.: Dedicated to Cadalee Biarritz Vol. 1 (2025, Multi Alumni/ONErpm): Rapper Justin Scott, from Mississippi, acronym for King Remembered in Time, broke out in 2005, peaked with Cadillactica in 2014, first album since 2022, reviving his glitzy Caddy dreams. The album appeared to little notice in December (17 tracks, 31:41), followed up by a more recent “Deluxe Edition” (25 songs, 48:07). The former pops on every track, but I rechecked it by listening to the latter, and remain convinced. A-

Lip Critic: Theft World (2026, Partisan): Band from Brooklyn, two drummers, samplers for metallic clang and industrial noise (or “Dada-esque nonsense”), spoken vocals. Reminded me of Sleaford Mods, but, you know, American, and less political (or class-conscious), or less pointed about it. B+(***)

Nas & DJ Premier: Light-Years (2025, Mass Appeal): Rapper Nasir Jones founded this label in 2014, with Run the Jewels their first release. In 2025, they came up with a series of seven Legend Has It . . . albums, bringing back “iconic” hip-hop acts from 20+ years ago: Slick Rick, Raekwon, Ghostface Killah, Mobb Deep, Big L, De La Soul. It’s been a noble endeavor, the kind of thing that’s possible when artists seize the means of production. Now we seee that it’s also let Nas dust off some old tracks he worked on with producer Christopher Martin back in 2006. It’s not clear how much of this is old or new, but it sounds vintage, for sure. B+(***)

Ivo Perelman: Trifecta (2022-24 [2026], Mahakala Music, 3CD): Avant-saxophonist from Brazil, moved to the US in the early 1980s, after a normal start in 1989, he went on a tear around 1996, and has kept it up, typically releasing 8–12 albums per year, sometimes in clusters, like this series of tenor sax and guitar duets, one disc each with Marc Ribot, Elliott Sharp, and Joe Morris. The Ribot session ends especially strong, but all the guitarists pick out interesting terrain, which the saxophonist navigates masterfully. A-

Ivo Perelman/Damon Smith: Duologue: Core of Existence (2026, Squid Note): Tenor sax and bass duo, Bandcamp page lists title as Duologue 6, a series that only barely hints at the number of duos he’s recorded — more than a dozen with Matthew Shipp (including seven volumes of The Art of Perelman-Shipp, his 12-CD Reed Rapture in Brooklyn box, his Trifecta of guitarists, plus numerous one-shot encounters. I’ve heard many (109 albums rated). He’s always good, often great (I’ve A-listed 41 of those albums). I fear I’ve fallen behind of late, having lost track of many download links, and possibly just being overwhelmed. This strikes me as typical, but the bass is worth focusing on, as his own excellence is beyond doubt. B+(***)

Weakened Friends: Feels Like Hell (2025, Don Giovanni): Indie trio from Portland, Maine, third album, Sonia Sturino (vocals/guitar) and Annie Hoffman (bass/vocals) write the songs, Adam Hand drums. Up and down, in and out of punk, could be major but hard for me to be sure. B+(***)

Daniel Carter/Sabir Mateen/William Parker/Lou Grassi: Keeping It in Context (1996 [2026], NoBusiness): Two saxophonists (alto/tenor/flute, one also on trumpet, the other on clarinet), backed by superb bass, and drums: a jam session spun off from Parker’s 1990s Improviser’s Collective. When the going gets rough, I used to complain that chaotic free jazz must have been more fun to play than to listen to. Now I hear more method in what formerly felt ramshackle. Or perhaps I’m just touched by nostalgia? A fine document of lost times. A-

Sunny Murray/Sabu Toyozumi: Sun’s Blessings (1999 [2026], NoBusiness): Two free jazz drummers, Murray (1936-2017) most famous as the guy who drove John Coltrane off the deep end, Toyozumi a bit younger (b. 1943) and still active, some notable encounters with western avants over the years (Peter Brötzmann, Derek Bailey, Han Bennink, Paul Rutherford, Wadada Leo Smith). Whether you need to listen to just drums for 61:27 is up to you, but these guys are masters, and the inspired rumble retained my interest throughout. A-