 Various Artists The sequel to Make Music is approximately as satisfying as its predecessor, offering very of-the-moment retro chic so you can create your own private London wherever you may be. Like Moby's Play, the disc is almost impossible not to like, though it's easy to be suspicious of. This volume has a slightly more fuzzy, funky, psychedelic vibe than the first one. Setting the tone is Shuggie Otis's perfect "Strawberry Letter 23," which starts out by immediately beating Bill Withers at his own game before wandering into Yes's backyard to sneak some mushrooms. It's the song that gives the disc its reason to exist, as with Minnie Riperton's "Les Fleur" on Make Music. Good as that one is, my favorite track is definitely Sandie Shaw's bordering-on-preposterous Broadway-esque treatment of "Your Time is Gonna Come" by Led Zeppelin. Somehow this one manages to blister and salve at the same time. Then there's the always wonderful acoustic chunklet "Can You Get to That" by Funkadelic, which is especially great as it eliminates the need to buy Maggot Brain, which is a better album cover than album. The Isley Brothers turn out a surprisingly awesome version of "Love the One You're With,"and Jose Feliciano does a nice cover Stevie Wonder's "Golden Lady," which is also a pleasant treat. Should I make a "blind leading the blind" joke here? Better not. "You Goin' Miss Your Candyman" fulfills the Terry Callier requirement – a brilliant cut, sure, although Callier's much-hyped rediscovery of late has more than overcompensated for his orignal neglect, leading me to kind of roll my eyes at his presence on a compilation anymore. Unfair, I know, but what can you do. The title cut, by Bugsy, sounds like Phil Ochs singing through a fan, but in a good way. As with Make Music, As We Travel is mostly a Pure Moods for hipsters, as opposed to some kind of real transcendent experience. But these compilations are nice because, frankly, tracking down the original albums invariably reveals them to have one great song: the one on the compilation. Purists be damned; it pays to be shallow.
Review by Mason Bray |