Released 39 Years Ago Today

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4OeX9Rq9cFk&list=PLrpyDacBCh7D9LYtNqpCNxIAyLk4R26uA

Grace Jones: Warm Leatherette (1980)

My favorite—or maybe second favorite—Grace Jones album. I can never definitively say if this or Nightclubbing is my favorite. They're both so good they could easily have been released as a double LP.

Recent Acquisitions

I saw this disc on an Instagram post and had to have it. It's always been a favorite film and soundtrack of mine, so seeing it on Tiffany-blue vinyl was all I needed. Tracking down this particular pressing was a bit more difficult. I bought one from Discogs.com that was listed as "blue vinyl," but it was actually royal blue, not this gorgeous teal.

Of course, I hadn't favorited it on Instagram, so tracking it down again was a bit of a chore, but after messaging the owner I got the specific record label and catalog number and was able to find it that way.

I don't know what prompted me to seek this one out, but I'm glad I did.

Released 30 Years Ago Today


Madonna: Like a Prayer (1989)

And as I just mentioned to Ben, this anniversary also means I haven't had a Pepsi for 30 years as well.

When Pepsi dropped Madonna as a spokesperson, citing the "sacreligious" imagery in the Like a Prayer (Jeez, they had no idea what was coming, did they?) video, I swore I would never drink Pepsi again. And I haven't.

Released 41 Years Ago Today


Sphinx: Sphinx (1978)

Under the name Sphinx, Alec R. Costandinos and Don Ray released an album with two side-long tunes, Judas Iscariot and Simon Peter, telling the story of the betrayal of Christ. Judas features some monk-like chanting, and a pretty simple ascending and descending theme, but as usual it goes through a bewildering series of tranformations, including what sounds like a bouzouki duel, before climbing to a rousing finale. It's also a good case study in how Costandinos keeps the rhythm section pumping out dance beats no matter how overwrought the orchestra gets. Simon Peter explores similar territory and about seven minutes in, it breaks into the most furious, kick-ass disco you're ever going to hear.

Much like Costandinos' work with Cerrone on Love in C-Minor, I was initially unaware of Don Ray's contributions to this album, but upon subsequent listening it's obvious.

And no doubt because of the subject matter, I don't recall ever hearing it played in the clubs. I only stumbled upon it because it appeared in a full page ad in Billboard Magazine along with Costandinos' other work.