[SYN-068]
Before he took on "Maggie May", Rachel Hunter and the "Great American Songbook", "Rod the Mod" was the most promising young singer in Swinging London. Here, Stewart finds his way towards stardom with a passel of R&B and soul numbers.

[SYN-066]
Folk tunes, standards, and Calypso music: nobody did them like Harry Belafonte. Here are 20 classic recordings from the entertainer's 1950s heyday, including "Man Smart, Woman Smarter," "Matilda, Matilda" and "Lord Randall."

[SYN-054]
It makes sense that one of Peggy Lee's greatest 1950s albums was called Songs in an Intimate Style, for that's exactly what she delivered, year in, year out. Even on more outgoing numbers, Lee (1920-2002) kept her voice quiet and restrained, furthering the impression that she was singing right in your ear, for you alone. That vocal approach, coupled with a knack for songwriting (she co-penned many of her top hits), made her one of the few singers to come of age in the swing era who remained popular, and contented, in the age of rock… This disc [consists] mostly of radio and studio recordings from the 1940s, and [offers] a handy primer in Lee's special brand of intimacy. — Mac Randall

[SYN-053]
The title of their best-known song is right on the money: Sister Sledge are family. Four sisters, to be exact: Debbie, Kim, Joni, and Kathy Sledge. But there's a lot more to this sister act than one disco anthem; the Sledges' musical career spans over three decades and a dozen albums… Producers Nile Rodgers and Bernard Edwards, who'd already hit paydirt with their own band Chic on such club classics as "Dance, Dance, Dance (Yowsah, Yowsah, Yowsah)" and "Le Freak," took the Sledges on, and the result was their commercial high-water mark, 1979's We Are Family. Perfectly in tune with the spirit of the disco era, that album's evergreen title track has gone on to enliven countless weddings and other family gatherings in the past 20-plus years… The nine tracks on this disc, drawn from a 1991 live concert and including every song from We Are Family, are further proof of the lasting quality, and danceability, of Sister Sledge's work. — Mac Randall

[SYN-052]
Hearing the classic songs on this disc, all of them original studio tracks from Williams' too-brief heyday, it can actually seem amazing that he lasted as long as he did. The man sounds as if he's about to implode from overwhelming sadness at nearly every turn. Just listen to the pained yodeling of "Lovesick Blues" or the defeated sighs of "Cold, Cold Heart" — this music's ghostly allure remains immediate, a direct shot to the soul. — Mac Randall

[SYN-051]
Indisputably one of the greatest country bluesmen of the 20th century, Sam "Lightnin'" Hopkins (1912-1982) was a guitar wizard and one-of-a-kind storyteller. The first track on this album, "Big Black Cadillac Blues," cuts right to the core of his style: a long, rambling, hilarious spoken intro segues seamlessly into a captivating vocal melody, punctuated by guitar lines whose wit and natural grace are easy to feel but tough to emulate.

Hopkins' career was faltering by the dawn of the '60s. Then the folkies discovered him. For the rest of the decade, he was a top draw on the coffeehouse circuit. All the material on this disc dates from that period of resurrection, including several solo live tracks and three tunes — "Early in the Morning Blues," "I've Been 'Buked and Scorned," and "Brand New Car" — recorded during a loose series of Los Angeles sessions in July 1960 with fabled duo Sonny Terry (harmonica) and Brownie McGhee (guitar), plus guitarist Big Joe Williams. Rice Miller, a.k.a. Sonny Boy Williamson, plays harp on "Drinkin' In the Blues." "Rain," meanwhile, comes from a 1965 session with Earl Palmer on drums, Jimmy Bond on bass, and Joe "Streamline" Ewing on trombone(!); unusual instrumentation, certainly, but effective in its idiosyncratic way. — Mac Randall

[SYN-050]
In 1943, Tormé began fronting an L.A. vocal group that was soon redubbed the Mel-Tones; he served as their arranger too. You can hear the Mel-Tones on several tracks here, backing up Bing Crosby on 1946's "Day by Day" and stepping to the fore for "I Got the Sun in the Morning" (from July of the same year, accompanied by Artie Shaw's band). The remainder of this disc consists of studio tracks recorded after Tormé went solo in 1947, including two major hits from 1949, "Careless Hands" and "Again," a stylish 1950 duet with Peggy Lee on "The Old Master Painter," and one particularly well-chosen standard, George and Ira Gershwin's "A Foggy Day." Though Tormé's popularity would dim in the rock era, that fog can still roll its way into the hearts of discerning listeners today. — Mac Randall

[SYN-049]
If your knowledge of Della Reese is limited to her long-running role on TV's "Touched by an Angel", then honey, you don't know Della. Well before Reese became a television and film personality, she was a singer of fearsome authority, working with equal comfort in the fields of gospel, pop and jazz… [A]s this CD's mix of tracks from various stages of her career demonstrates, Reese can take any song to church. — Mac Randall

[SYN-048]
The material on this disc, recorded in the mid-'80s, was originally released in 1988 under the title No Easy Walk to Freedom; it consists mostly of originals by Stookey and Yarrow, the major exception being "Greenland Whale Fisheries," a traditional tune also covered by Ewan MacColl and the Dubliners, among others. — Mac Randall

[SYN-047]
With one exception, all the recordings here span the years from 1938 to 1949, when Krupa was recording for Columbia (save for a brief hiatus following his 1943 arrest for drug possession). Among the band's other star players are trumpeter Roy Eldridge, singer Anita O'Day, and saxophonists Charlie Ventura and Charlie Kennedy. All the big '40s hits are included — "After You've Gone," "Let Me Off Uptown," "Opus No. 1" — and Krupa's strong Dixieland roots emerge on songs like "I Hope Gabriel Likes My Music." The only track not performed by the Krupa band closes out the set: "Sing, Sing, Sing," recorded with Goodman in 1937, and a tune that will forever be linked with this pioneer of the skins and his trademark theatrics. — Mac Randall

[SYN-046]
Born Richard Anthony Monsour in Boston on May 4, 1937 to a Lebanese father and Polish mother, Dale was exposed early on to ethnic folk music, which would influence the "exotic" tonalities of his own later work. The playing of swing drummers like Gene Krupa suggested a percussive approach to the guitar. Surfing did the rest; Dale became an enthusiast of the sport after moving to California in 1954, and wanted to capture the rush of longboarding in musical terms. His 1961 debut single, "Let's Go Trippin'," was a surprise hit, and over the next four years, Dale followed it up with many more, including all the tracks on this disc. The most famous, of course, is 1962's "Misirlou Twist," which Quentin Tarantino used to brilliant effect in his 1994 movie Pulp Fiction, thus exposing yet another generation to the King of the Surf Guitar. — Mac Randall

[SYN-045]
As wonderful as Lewis' studio recordings can be — both the classic '50s Sun sides and the less-celebrated country records he cut for Smash in the '60s and '70s — the Killer really came into his own live. The tracks on this disc, recorded at a number of concerts during the '80s, show off his inimitable power and his easy mastery of a crowd. No pianos go up in smoke [a reference to a legendary gig with Chuck Berry in 1958], but the music's plenty hot. — Mac Randall

[SYN-038]
When the Mills Brothers' first records were released in 1931, they bore a striking legend on the label: "No musical instruments or mechanical devices used on this recording other than one guitar." Actually, that wasn't quite true. In fact, there were four astonishing musical instruments on display - the voices of the four Mills boys, who had the uncanny ability to sound just like brass players. A cute novelty act? Absolutely, but it turned out to be far more; the Millses parlayed their unique talents into a career that lasted for more than half a century. The mock-brass technique was the boys' own invention, and it set the late-'20s vaudeville circuit alight. In 1930, they moved to New York, and over the next six years recorded a magnificent series of singles, 14 of which are collected on this disc. — Mac Randall

[SYN-037]
When Patsy Cline's plane went down in Camden, Tennessee on March 5, 1963, she was only 30. In the decades since, she's become one of country music's most revered icons. Cline's historical significance can't be denied; along with Kitty Wells and Brenda Lee, she established a place for women in the notoriously male-dominated Nashville music industry while making records that bridged the divide between country and pop. And then there's the sheer power of her singing: stoic, vulnerable, wise, and immeasurably influential. Recorded between 1955 and 1960, the tracks on this disc predate the early-'60s era that spawned classics like "Crazy" and "I Fall to Pieces." And yet such wonderfully titled tunes as "A Church, a Courtroom and then Goodbye" and "I Cried All the Way to the Altar" play off the singer's wounded-romantic side to brilliant effect. Truth is, Patsy Cline always sounded best when the recipe called for heartache. — Mac Randall

[SYN-036]
Simply put, Oscar Peterson is a piano colossus. On a purely technical level, few jazz artists can match his ability to execute mind-bogglingly difficult feats of melodic wizardry, often at hair-raising speeds. But what really keeps the jaw dropping is his energy, the indomitable swing in every line he plays. In 1952, he formed a trio with bassist Ray Brown and guitarist Barney Kessel; the following year, Kessel quit and was replaced by Herb Ellis. For over the next half-decade Peterson would reach an improvisational peak, egged on by the exuberant playing of Ellis and Brown. You can hear this legendary group on several tracks here, the most dazzling being a tear through Benny Goodman and Charlie Christian's "Seven Come Eleven." Peterson kept working hard in a variety of settings until 1993, when a stroke put him out of commission for two years. His left hand was weakened permanently, but not enough to stop him from playing again. You can still catch him on the road today, and you should. — Mac Randall

[SYN-035]
If you're like most people, chances are you associate Nat "King" Cole first and foremost with lushly orchestrated pop ballads like "Mona Lisa" and "Unforgettable." But that stuff's only part of the story. Before Cole turned to full-blown pop in the 1950s, he led a remarkable series of small jazz groups that showcased his bubbly piano playing and ever-suave singing. And it's music from that earlier era, captured on both studio recordings and radio transcriptions, that makes up the track list of this disc. Of all the music he made in his short life - he died of lung cancer in February 1965 - it's the trio work that stands out, boasting a joie de vivre that's... well, unforgettable. — Mac Randall

[SYN-034]
For most Americans in the Depression-scarred 1930s, one of the few sure ways to forget your troubles was to escape into swing. Big bands were the main game in pop music, and many of them would become legendary. But the most successful orchestra of all was Glenn Miller's, and to this day its sound remains the most emblematic of that era. Miller's principal innovation lay in the voicing of his band's reed section. The timbral combination was sweet and tremulous, a touch of romance designed to warm up a harsh world. From 1939 to 1942, the hits kept coming: "Moonlight Serenade," "In the Mood," "Chattanooga Choo-Choo." Then Miller joined the military. But Miller would not live to see the end of World War II; en route to Paris on December 15, 1944, his plane disappeared over the English Channel. He was 40 years old, and the circumstances of his passing only add to the nostalgic quality of this music. — Mac Randall

[SYN-033]
It's hard to describe the music of José Feliciano without venturing into a dangerous thicket of multi-hyphenated compound nouns. No single musical style would be enough to satisfy his artistic inclinations, so he delved into a whole bunch: jazz, flamenco, soul, Latin-American folk, blues and mainstream pop, to name only six. Both his singing and his guitar playing display a cutting force, a unique bite that lends a sharp edge to even the smoothest ballad. Due to congenital glaucoma, Feliciano has been blind since birth. In 1950, when he was five, he moved with his family from Puerto Rico to New York. Feliciano's big crossover moment came in 1968, and at the 1969 Grammys, he was named Best New Artist. Though Feliciano's subsequent career has been long and fruitful, only one more song - the 1974 theme to TV's "Chico and the Man" - worked its way into the general public's consciousness. You'll find it on this disc, along with several other hits. — Mac Randall

[SYN-032]
Congratulations. You now hold in your hand some of the finest music produced in 20th-century America. The catalog of Edward Kennedy "Duke" Ellington (1899-1974) and his orchestra stretches over 50 years; at its best, which is often, it transcends all the categories normally assigned to it - swing, big-band, jazz, what have you - and stands with the classics of any genre. This disc selects 14 prime tracks from two decades of Ellingtonia, offering an excellent glimpse into the style of this peerless composer, arranger, bandleader and pianist. The oldest material here dates from the fall of 1927. Three tracks by the "Blanton-Webster" band of 1940-42 - so-called because of two gifted new members, upright bassist Jimmie Blanton and tenor saxophonist Ben Webster - fill out our set. Sixty-five years later, this music has lost none of its astonishing power. — Mac Randall

[SYN-031]
English wasn't Dino Paul Crocetti's first language. At home in Steubenville, Ohio, his family spoke Italian. When he first went to school, the six-year-old son of an immigrant barber was mocked mercilessly by the other kids for his accent and bad grammar. But in the end, Crocetti got his revenge. For he grew up to become Dean Martin, star of stage and screen, singer of songs that sold in the millions - each one of them in perfect English. This CD captures Martin at the very beginning of his illustrious career. "Which Way Did My Heart Go," the opening track, was his first single, cut in July 1946 for Diamond Records. Just turned 29, Dino had gotten into show business relatively late, but as these recordings from the mid-to-late '40s demonstrate, he'd already worked out his basic vocal style. Relaxed, almost offhanded yet at the same time authoritative, the Martin croon was a canny mix of Bing Crosby and the Italian tenors he'd grown up hearing back in Steubenville. If you want to know what made Dino Dino, this is a fine place to start. — Mac Randall

[SYN-030]
As of this writing, the latest addition to the lofty stack of books on Francis Albert Sinatra is Sinatra: The Life by Anthony Summers and Robbyn Swan. Unfortunately, much like its predecessors, Summers and Swan's tome is disappointing. The reason is that they spend too much time on peripheral matters. The one aspect that made everyone care in the first place - the music - gets forgotten. Which is why, in the end, it's preferable to just listen to the guy sing. What you'll hear when you put on this particular disc is early Frank. Every track here, save for one, was recorded between January 1940 and September 1942. During that time, the kid from Hoboken was singing for the Tommy Dorsey Orchestra and cultivating the air of the sensitive, romantic crooner. With Dorsey, he scored his first number-one hit, 1940's "I'll Never Smile Again," which makes a fine introduction to the young Sinatra's tender vocal style. — Mac Randall

[SYN-029]
Elegant yet raffish, intellectual yet earthy, marked by both complex emotional depth and an almost childlike sense of humor, Erroll Garner's piano style was inimitable (not that lots of other musicians didn't try). Though he's highly regarded as a composer, it's his piano playing that made him a 20th-century jazz legend. And the most distinctive element of that playing, its wink-and-a-chuckle whimsy, makes the title of this compilation, The Elf, an obvious choice. "Stardust," "I Surrender, Dear," "Undecided" and "Stompin' at the Savoy" date from a 1945 session. The remainder of the album was recorded in 1949. Garner's style is already perfectly in place; listen to the trademark way he tugs the melody off the beat on "I'm Confessin' (that I Love You)" and "All of Me." As much as this rhythmic displacement foreshadows the bop innovations of Thelonious Monk, it also has a charm all its own. Call it elfin. — Mac Randall

[SYN-015 874757001524]
By now, it’s been pretty well established that lots of folks—black, white, male, female—have the essential spirit that the blues requires, but it’s also clear that not everyone does. Still, if this compilation is anything to go by, it does help your blues credentials considerably to spend some time in Chicago. All of the artists featured here have the Windy City in common (with one exception: Richard Newell, born in Hamilton, Ontario). These players turned blues from rural to urban music: tough, hard-driving and, most importantly, amplified. Their efforts in turn inspired generations of white musicians on bosh sides of the Atlantic. — Mac Randall