In German usage, it has become customary to refer to older compositions for keyboard instruments, unless they were expressly written for the harpsichord or organ, as "Clavierwerke". The boundaries were fluid, which is why these sonatas for a "clavier" without pedal can also be interpreted on an appropriate pipework. Despite various modernizations, the organ in St. Cyriakus Church in Duderstadt certainly offers this: created by Johannes Creutzburg in 1733-35, the instrument belongs to the same period in which the young Johann Ludwig Krebs completed his training with the Leipzig Thomaskantor Johann Sebastian Bach. In the six sonatas, which were only rediscovered in 2009, the pupil admittedly speaks a different language to his teacher: the pieces are playful, light-hearted, occasionally "dallying" and always gallant in his hand.

Anyone who has made it past the seventh year can hope for a rosy future. The Orelon Trio, founded in Cologne in 2018, has just crossed this striking threshold - but without its members Judith Stapf (violin), Arnau Rovira i Bascompte (cello) and Marco Sanna (piano) ever having to get together: Within a short space of time, the "high-flyers" were already making a name for themselves, they were soon performing at prestigious venues, top-class competition successes (ARD, Melbourne, Graz) came as a matter of course, the first recordings and the enthusiastic response from specialist circles were not long in coming. How could they not, when the "oreloj" (Esperanto for: the ears) of the three musicians are so excellently attuned that they can perceive unheard-of things even in familiar repertoire. The Orelon Trio's first cpo release leaves no doubt about this.

Tropical Tribute to the Beatles is a tribute album of tropical artists released in 1996 by RMM Records (Ralph Mercado's record company), produced by Oscar Gomez (distributed by Bellaphon & Uni Distribution). Arrangements were made by Steve Roistein, and lyrics were adapted into Spanish by Jorge Córcega, who had previously adapted the lyrics of Salvatore Adamo.

This 50th Anniversary Edition is presented as a hardcover book and features the remastered original album in stereo and mono as well as session outtakes, alternate mixes and previously unreleased live recordings.
The best Beach Boys album, and one of the best of the 1960s. The group here reached a whole new level in terms of both composition and production, layering tracks upon tracks of vocals and instruments to create a richly symphonic sound. Conventional keyboards and guitars were combined with exotic touches of orchestrated strings, bicycle bells, buzzing organs, harpsichords, flutes, Theremin, Hawaiian-sounding string instruments, Coca-Cola cans, barking dogs, and more. It wouldn't have been a classic without great songs, and this has some of the group's most stunning melodies, as well as lyrical themes which evoke both the intensity of newly born love affairs and the disappointment of failed romance…

Aubrey Mayhew, founder of the maverick country label Little Darlin' Records, sought out taciturn bluesman Sam "Lightnin'" Hopkins in Houston in 1967 and persuaded him to make some casual field recordings for him at nearby Gold Star Studio and, as it turned out, at two small local bars. The results of these extremely loose and casual sessions were issued as a series of five short albums under the blanket title of The Lost Texas Tapes, and it is those five releases that are collected here into one double-disc set. Intimacy is the operative word for these tracks, as Hopkins (playing solo electric guitar) sounds relaxed and at ease, and while these recordings are hardly the place to start with Lightnin', die-hard fans will find them indispensable for the insight they give into his creative process…

Pianist Brad Mehldau blew up in the mid-’90s playing intense renditions of Cole Porter, Rodgers & Hammerstein, and the like, but he’s also famously covered rock and pop fare including Radiohead, Alice in Chains, Neil Young, Rush, and indeed The Beatles. But here is Mehldau going all in, at peak expressive form and technical command, alone with a phenomenal instrument in a superb-sounding hall (Philharmonie de Paris), offering an emotionally invested all-Beatles programme (save for one David Bowie anthem at the end). The song order flows beautifully. Mehldau opens up the forms, cannily orchestrates the melodies, departs in fascinating ways from the harmonies, in the end keeping it all about the song. The emphasis is generally later Beatles (“I Am the Walrus,” “She Said, She Said,” and “Golden Slumbers” are inspired picks), but Mehldau’s boogie-woogie treatment of “I Saw Her Standing There” takes it back—it’s him convincingly flexing pre-bebop stylistic muscles while finding openings for his own creative language to come through.