
Given how many of Monsieur Malle’s films I truly cherish, not to mention the joy of watching then-newlywed actors Amy Madigan and Ed Harris work together, it’s a wonder I still haven’t seen ‘Alamo Bay’ after nearly four decades.

Given how many of Monsieur Malle’s films I truly cherish, not to mention the joy of watching then-newlywed actors Amy Madigan and Ed Harris work together, it’s a wonder I still haven’t seen ‘Alamo Bay’ after nearly four decades.
Twas inevitable that my alphabetically constrained series for #SoundtrackSunday would require addendums along the way. So when I came across two titles at DTLA’s treasure-filled Last Bookstore (@lastbookstorela) earlier this week, both in solid condition and at appealing prices (snagged ‘em for under $10 total), I didn’t hesitate to alter the trajectory while I’m still in the A’s. (This is the first of two such posts today.)
Revisiting A&M Records No. 30
Cat Stevens: ‘Matthew & Son’ (March ’67)
Cat Stevens: ‘New Masters’ (December ‘67)
Technically these first two assortments from the future Yusuf Islam don’t belong in this series. His platinum tenure within Mr. A & Mr. M’s haven didn’t begin until he finally found his sound on third album ‘Mona Bone Jakon’ three years later.
Like any lifelong Talking Heads fan, I was thrilled to see ‘Stop Making Sense’ return to theaters last year along with generous but expectedly awkward promo appearances from the permanently fractured group. I never saw the real thing live, missing what turned out to be their final tour in ’83, when I was 14 and only beginning to see shows.
This is an absurdly arranged bootleg compilation from 2019 that would require at least two more LPs to do justice to its misleading title. Yet it’s an almost essential addition if someone (like me) is attempting to acquire on vinyl every recording involving Christine McVie.
The problem is that most of the Many Faces presented in the set’s first half are relatively inconsequential when it comes to Fleetwood Mac’s lengthy list of lineups.
Revisiting A&M Records No. 29
We Five: ‘You Were on My Mind’ (September ‘65)
We Five: ‘Make Someone Happy’ (December ‘67)
Backtracking here to pair this SF ensemble’s debut sensation with the overly delayed follow-up that didn’t arrive until the quintet was breaking up, at least temporarily. As the horribly written back-cover notes indicate, the latter album was reason for fans to be both glad for their return yet sad that ‘(t)here is this album and there will be no more albums because there is no more We 5 [sic].’
Revisiting A&M Records No. 33
Nat Adderley: ‘You, Baby’ (late winter ’68)
Sometimes these CTI albums impress immediately, seizing our attention with intricate compositions, remarkable interplay and an enveloping warmth that offsets bracing coolness. Other times it takes multiple spins before arrangements click, distinctive solos sink in and subtler charms emerge.
Revisiting A&M Records No. 28
Herbie Mann: ‘Glory of Love’ (December ‘67)
I must not be jazzbo enough to understand why this very enjoyable one-off the groundbreaking flutist cut for Creed Taylor’s CTI subsidiary isn’t held in nearly as high regard as albums that came before and after it.
Finally, 14 years later, a second solo album!
And what can be most quickly discerned from even a cursory spin? That at this point, late January ’84, Christine McVie had become such a reliably strong songwriter that she’d fully established a signature style as recognizable as Elton John’s.
This flick is still a wicked knockout a decade later, a near-epic with Scorsese-level aspirations that quite often measures up to the master’s flashiest sagas, ‘GoodFellas’ and ‘Casino.’ The reason why, however, ultimately has less to do with director David O. Russell’s consummate skills, even if this was his strongest work since the startlingly funny war drama ‘Three Kings’ in ’99, concluding a superb three-picture run of vivid realism begun by ‘The Fighter’ in 2010 and extended with ‘Silver Linings Playbook’ two years later.