Sui Generis – Obras Cumbres (2000)

sui generis
Sui Generis
Obras Cumbres
Released 2000 on Sony Argentina

1 Cancion Para Mi Muerte
2 Necesito
3 Estacion
4 Toma Dos Blues
5 Amigo Vuelve a Casa Pronto
6 Quizas, Porque
7 Cuando Comenzamos a Nacer
8 Cuando Ya Me Empiece a Quedar Solo
9 Bienvenidos al Tren
10 Confesiones de Invierno
11 Rasguna Las Piedras
12 Lunes Otra Vez
13 Aprendizaje
14 Mr. Jones O Pequena Semblanza de una Fam
15 Tribulaciones, Lamento y Ocaso de un Ton
16 Tango en Segunda
17 Juan Represion
18 El Show de Los Muertos
19 Pequenas Delicias de La Vida Conyugal
20 El Tuerto y Los Ciegos
21 Musica de Fondo Para Cualquier Fiesta An
22 Las Increibles Aventuras del Senor Tijer
23 Botas Locas
24 Alto en La Torre
25 El Fantasma de Canterville [live]
26 Confesiones de Invierno [live]
27 Cancion Para Mi Muerte [live]
28 Zapando Con La Gente [live]
29 Aprendizaje [live]
30 Cuando Ya Me Empieze a Quedar Solo [live]
31 Bubulina [live]
32 Pequenas Declicias de La Vida Conyugal [live]
33 Rasgunas Las Piedras
34 Blues de Levante

In spite of generic packaging and absolutely no liner notes, this is a pretty nice career retrospective of Argentinian gods Sui Generis. I don’t say “compilation” or “greatest hits” because this 2-CD release presents highlights of the entire (original) recorded output — by which I mean, they include practically all of their first two albums, and healthy chunks of the rest. The first two are just stone-cold classics by anyone’s watch. Look around on YouTube and can see the thousands of people singing every word of some of these tunes during the Sui Generis ‘comeback/reunion’ thing from a few years back. The collection also includes the tracks “Juan Represion” and “El Show de Los Muertos” which were both censored and removed from the original album.

Their third album is not as well represented here, not surprising given the reaction of original fans to it. It’s pretty balls-out prog-rock (or prog-related, as the Prog Archives deems them not worthy of full-on “prog” membership 😛 ). I like it. The open-minded among you will too, I think. The funny thing is that Charly Garcia’s songwriting in general didn’t seem to change radically during this record, just his vision of the arrangements, the instrumentation, the energy. The live album ‘Adios, Sui Generis’ was also a classic, recorded at their big farewell concert. The other two volumes , although released later were (as far as I know) recorded during the same time.

The Prog Archives page about Sui Generis is actually pretty cool, with fan reviews and descriptions of their major albums and links to video clips.


Includes full artwork at 600 dpi, log, cue, m3us, and a gift certificate.

P.S. Charly Garcia stole my Yamaha NS-10s and is enjoying music on them in Ann Arbor, Michigan, as you read this!

Sui Generis – Obras Cumbres (2000) in 320kbs

Sui Generis – Obras Cumbres (2000) in FLAC, Part 1

Sui Generis – Obras Cumbres (2000) in FLAC, Part 2

John Fahey – The Voice of the Turtle (1968) VBR


Voice of the Turtle

Released 1968,Takoma Records
Issued on CD 1996

1. Bottleneck Blues 3:03
2. Bill Cheatum 1:52
3. Lewisdale Blues 2:13
4. Bean Vine Blues 2:42
5. Bean Vine Blues 2:48
6. A Raga Called Pat 9:03
7. A Raga Called Pat 4:25
8. Train 1:44
9. Je Ne Me Suis Revellais Matin Pas En May 2:19
10. The Story Of Dorothy Gooch 5:24
11. Nine-Pound Hammer 1:57
12. Lonesome Valley 1:42

Review by Richie Ubermench

Like some of John Fahey’s other projects in the ’60s, this was actually recorded and assembled over a few years, and primarily composed of duets with various other artists (including overdubs with his own pseudonym, “Blind Joe Death”). One of his more obscure early efforts, Voice of the Turtle is both able and wildly eclectic, going from scratchy emulations of early blues 78s and country fiddle tunes to haunting guitar-flute combinations and eerie ragas. “A Raga Called Pat, Part III” and “Part IV” is a particularly ambitious piece, its disquieting swooping slide and brief bits of electronic white noise reverb veering into experimental psychedelia. Most of this is pretty traditional and acoustic in tone, however, though it has the undercurrent of dark, uneasy tension that gives much of Fahey’s ’60s material its intriguing combination of meditation and restlessness.

Someone wrote on some website you might know:

9 of 9 people found the following review helpful:
–, December 14, 2003
By Benjamin S. Sandstrom (Minnetonka, MN United States)
I don’t know the complete story behind this record in reference to it being a hoax or a put-on or who played what. What I do know is that it’s my favorite John Fahey record, and if that makes me less enlightened than the average Fahey fan, I can live with that.

I don’t think it’s important that this record spends less time spotlighting Fahey’s guitar virtuosity than is normally the case. This is a record that’s about a certain ambience created by collage, and the fact that Fahey uses unknown accompanists and found sounds makes it no less authentic or personal than his other guitar-only recordings that the Byronic Fahey enthusiasts long for. What’s essentially important about the record is that Fahey was responsible for it, assembled it, and that it was born out of his head, if not always his hand. That’s why it’s valid.

As much of a purist as Fahey could be – perhaps wishing that he were around 40 years earlier to learn first-hand from his influences – he wasn’t an irrational purist. By that I mean he wasn’t afraid to like or use technology. He didn’t use technology as paint, so to speak, but rather as his brush, and ‘Voice of the Turtle’ was his most complete technological statement. It was extremely rare that Fahey used an electronic sound in his music, yet the way he assembled certain songs – and the the entire ‘Voice of the Turtle’ album – was influenced by modern technology in the form of found sounds and the occasional electronic drone or squak. The third and fourth ‘A Raga Called Pat’s on ‘Voice of the Turtle’, as well as the first two on ‘Days Have Gone By’ are not adventurous because they abandon his roots, they’re adventurous because they express his roots and vision differently. Instead of simulating an environment, an era, or a mood on guitar, Fahey gives them to you – straight-up – and then does his musical thing, whether it be guitar or something else, on top of it, making those pieces into virtual field recordings, and what’s more ‘Fahey’ than a field recording? That’s right – nothing. His roots and vision did not change on those pieces.

By saying that ‘Voice of the Turtle’ was Fahey’s most complete technological statement, I don’t imply that he necessarily used more technology than on any other record. It has to do with the coherence of the technology and how it brings the record together rather than isolating certain songs as in the case of ‘Days Have Gone By’ and ‘Requia’. The way the ‘A Raga Called Pat’s, ‘The Story of Dorothy Gooch, Part 1’ and the drone that opens and closes the record work against the more traditional material is purposeful, not merely experimental. The above songs give the more upbeat traditional pieces an interesting subtext of menace that suggests that even in good times, trouble is never far. They also re-inforce the doom-laden crossroads mythology that Fahey liked to play with in some of his delta blues pieces.

I can understand how ‘Voice of the Turtle’ can be lost on some who appreciate Fahey’s technique first and foremost, but what I can’t understand is why Fahey’s technique is first and foremost. He was one of the greatest artists of his time, avoiding retro by taking the time to understand history and then coming back again into the present to show us what he found and how it’s really the same.

John Fahey – Days Have Gone By (1967) VBR

Sometimes, when I wake up on a summer morning, I listen to John Fahey.


Days Have Gone By, Volume 6

(1967; Reissued 2006 Takoma UK)

1. Revolt of the Dyke Brigade
2. Impressions of Susan
3. Joe Kirby Blues
4. Night Train of Valhalla
5. Portland Cement Factory at Monolith, California
6. Raga Called Pat, Pt. 1
7. Raga Called Pat, Pt. 2
8. My Shepherd Will Supply My Needs
9. My Grandfather’s Clock
10. Days Have Gone By
11. We Should Be Building

Review by Ronnie D. Lankford, Jr.

Sam Graham once referred to Fahey as the “curmudgeon of the acoustic guitar,” while producer Samuel Charters noted that Fahey “was the only artist I ever worked with whose sales went down after he made public appearances.” This tumultuous spirit, in turn, made tumultuous music on albums like Days Have Gone By, filled with odd harmonics, discord, and rare beauty. The esoteric titles like “Night Train of Valhalla” stand beside more abrasive ones like “The Revolt of the Dyke Brigade.” Fahey’s guitar work on the latter song, however, does little to evoke the title. Instead, it reminds one of what might happen if a guitar player from the Far East, familiar with open tunings, interpreted Blind Blake. “Impressions of Susan” combines the same odd tunings with nice, and at times joyful, fingerpicking. Dissonance, though, remains the primary mood that Fahey’s guitar resonates. “The Portland Cement Factory at Monolith, California” begins with a lovely cascade of notes, only to fall into odd harmonics that create a pensive foreboding. To call attention to the disharmony and discord, though, is not a criticism. Days Have Gone By, like all of Fahey’s early- and mid-’60s work, expands American blues traditions by enriching the palette of the guitar with Eastern tunings. He may create a challenging work like “A Raga Called Pat–Part Two” that is difficult to interpret, but its opulence is undeniable. Fahey has often been grouped with new age music but this — especially with his early work — is somewhat of a misnomer. New age strives to build harmony; Fahey revels in conflict. Days Have Gone By is another rewarding reissue of the master’s classic ’60s work and will be eagerly greeted by guitar aficionados.