Sports, Schmorts, Let's Talk Music
The Chicago sports landscape is relatively quiet, so it's time to share the article that Pitchfork is too scared to write
Since founding Gold Note Records in 2019, I’ve made a lot of music. Like, a lot.
Being that my art is an oddball mish-mash of jazz, funk, hip-hop, EDM, and the right hemisphere of my brain; and being that Mixmag tells us that there are 120,000 songs released each day; and being that the Gold Note marketing budget for the remainder of 2024 is $31.28, it’s tough to get much in the way of media love.
For instance, Pitchfork won’t be assigning anybody an article ranking each of my songs.
Now that’s a bummer for three reasons:
I could use the publicity.
Pitchfork’s ranking pieces are so pretentious and infuriating that I take great joy in hate-reading them.
I could use the publicity.
So since Pitchfork isn’t gonna do it — and since Lester Bangs isn’t around to do it for them — I’m taking it upon myself to discuss the quality (or lack thereof) of all 133 of my jams. Best of all, I’ll be writing it not from the perspective of Alan Goldsher, but rather as a sometimes pretentious, sometimes grouchy, sometimes overly effusive Pitchfork scribe.
So get ready to read some .50 modifiers and obscure musician references, and enjoy both the hate-read and the music.
133) Can’t Hold It Back
A clinker from his debut album featuring some shout/rapping (or rap/shouting), it’s difficult to discern whether Goldsher is attempting to channel Everlast, Darby Crash, Chester Bennington, or all of the above. Whatever he was shooting for, the vocal execution — as well as the less-than-subtle reference to the film Frozen — is simply silly.
132) Some Noisy Shit
A sophomoric homage to Gustav Holst, this overly-layered, meandering dash-off puts one in the mind of what happens when a jack-hammer is shooting sparks in one’s back alley.
131) 1992
Do we really need a homage to the dance music of 1992? Nobody’s clamoring to revisit the days of Rozalla, 2 Unlimited, or The S.O.U.L. S.Y.S.T.E.M. Stick to 2024, Mr. Goldsher. Stick to 2024.
130) Jelly’s Jam
If you’re going to rip off a trip-hop artist, you may as well rip off the best, and Goldsher’s riff on Tricky’s Maxinquaye is a gallant, lengthy mess. Noble effort, less-than-noble rendering.
129) Auld Lang Syne
Clearly recorded to get some clicks around the holiday, this contempo-swing take on the paean to New Year’s Eve is cute. But that’s all. Just cute.
128) Jammie’s Gel
Title-wise, this appears to be a sequel to “Jelly’s Jam.” To Goldsher’s credit, he realized that he can’t do Tricky, so he aimed for Massive Attack. Unfortunately, the only thing massive about his keyboad solo is its length.
127) Daddy’s Girls
This comes from Goldsher’s EP Glue, which was recorded in the midst of the 2020 lockdown. Like all of us who were attempted to navigate our pandemic lives, the bassist’s life was a bundle of contridictions, as born out by this wildly inconsistent project. This track was one of the two stinkers.
126) Don’t Judge Me
An average ballad in search of a vocalist. Where’s Jonna Lee when you need her?
125) We Take Requests
The second uninspiring track from Glue starts out pianissimo and goes from there. I wish it has begun at tacet…and stayed there.
124) Digit5TripHop
Inspired by Jon Batiste’s quick-turnaround album We Are, Goldsher decided to cut an entire collection in a week. Said collection, called Digits, is, unsurprisingly, a mixed bag. Here, he dives back into the Tricky/Massive Attack bucket well with unsurprisingly mixed results.
123) La Poche Est De Retour
First off, why the French title? Second off, why couldn’t Goldsher have done more with a beat and bass line that Thundercat would appreciate? Third off, why the French title? Anyhow, this one gets dinged for unfulfilled potential.
122) Eric B. Is President
Goldsher’s heart was in the right place with his cover of the old-school classic that was meant as an anti-Trump protest song — unfortunately, his voice wasn’t in the right place. The vocal/bass duo takes you right back to an East Village poetry slam, circa 1989…a place nobody wants to be.
121) Disco Demolition
Do we need a mashup of a Bernard Edwards bass groove and a Wrigley Field ballpark organ? Meh.
120) Witch Hunt
One of the oddest , if not the oddest track in Goldsher’s discography, Goldsher steps out from behind the bass and repositions himself behind a microphone, where he drops some pseudo-autobiographical lyrics that are preceded and followed by an electro-bop rendering of Wayne Shorter’s sublime melody. Should’ve been two good songs instead of one okay song.
119) The Return of Vibez McGoo
A cheerful groove with a cheerful MIDI-generated vibraphone that’s simply too cheerful. Throw some Joel Ross/Bobby Hutcherson grit into the mix, and he might’ve had something.
118) Digit2Electro
Was he going for an Aphex Twin thing? Skrillex? Calvin Harris? Wherever he was aiming, he missed the mark. Not by much, granted. But still a miss.
117) It’s the Nineties
It’s clear Goldsher has listened to his fair share of Marley Marl tracks. So have we. And we’d rather ear-ball a legendary producer than a prolific one. Taken in a vacuum, it’s decent stuff, but that’s all.
116) After the Point After
One of Goldsher’s strengths is his ability to toe the line between Reuben Wilson-esque, 1973-era grooves and early-aughts Medeski Martin and Wood attitude. This one hits that sweet spot. If he’d taken the time to develop it further, it could’ve been special.
115) C Jam Blues
If only the quality of the piano solo was equal to that of the clever arrangement, Duke Ellington — the song’s composer — would’ve been thrilled. Goldsher’s use of the Ellington band’s classic “Caravan” as the bass line was fantastic. He keyboard noodling, not so much.
114) Digit3Funk
A nifty little groove that sounds just like what it is — a tune that was recorded in a day, but needed three weeks.
113) Bo Knows
Just what nobody was looking for — a revisit to the land of New Jack Swing. That said, Goldsher’s ability to replicate a Bell Biv DeVoe track is impressive enough. But again, does BBD really need replicating?
112) 1991
Nothing special. That’s all. Nothing else needs to be said.
111) The Point After
This one has “commerce” written all over it. It would be an ideal melody for the theme to a 1980s sitcom — but not an ideal melody for a playlist.
110) Firedance
Goldsher’s elastic, oh, let’s just go ahead and say “Goldsher-esque” bass lines can almost always salvage his periodic lack of focus — almost. Decent, but not particularly memorable.
109) Digit7Jam
One can guess Goldsher’s mood during the week-long Digits session via the quality of the tune. Here, it sounds like he could’ve used a little more sleep and a bigger breakfast.
108) Polly
All We Are, Goldsher’s collection of Nirvana covers, is, for the most part, a solid piece of work. But this style-shifting take on Kurt Cobain’s heartbreaking song is incongruous at best, and disrespectful at worst.
107) Sunny Bird (version one)
A tribute to saxophone great Sonny Rollins, Goldsher diminishes his pleasant bebop/funk melody by performing said melody on an overly-distorted bass. Good thing there’s a version two.
106) Pop of the Tops
A nice little beat that ends before it begins. Think The Beatnuts at the tail-end of a 12-hour session.
105) Digit6World
The cool horn melody is counteracted by the song’s slightness. The potential was there. The delivery wasn’t.
104) Cacao Nibs
As is the case with Goldsher’s more pedestrian material, this major-key swinger stays at one dynamic level. Some more up/down, stop/start contrast certainly would’ve helped.
103) The Hardest Working Man In Show Business
When you hear the phrase, “The hardest working man in show business,” you assume there’ll be some James Brown vibes. Here, the bass work recalls Bootsy Collins…to a point. A different title might’ given listeners — listeners like us — slightly different expectations, which might’ve given this tune a more advantageous spot on the list.
102) Mamba Mentality
This is a case of not enough. Clocking in at under a minute, this rock-tronica groove snippet should’ve been expanded. Give us more of this, Alan. Give us more!
101) Wash Away the Dust (version one)
As was the case with about 33% of the material from his double-album debut, this is the work of a work-in-progress. Good thing there’s a version two…
100) Heads
Goldsher has claimed this is an homage to Talking Heads, and we can see that. Kind of. That said, he probably didn’t have Jerry Harrison’s phone number, which would’ve helped.
99) Swunk
Here’s the two-minute Fletcher-Henderson-meets-Pete-Rock jam we’ve all been waiting for. Actually, few, if any of us have been waiting for a Fletcher-Henderson-meets-Pete-Rock jam, but if you were, you’ll probably be satisfied.
98) Friend Or Foe
We’ll give Goldsher this: He’s become a craftsman to the point here in 2024 that even his lesser material feels pretty good. Not much depth, but plenty of groove, and some nice upright bass splatterings.
97) Smells Like Teen Spirit
We’re divided on this one. Some think Goldsher nailed it, while other’s see it as a missed opportunity. That said, Cobain would probably appreciate this muddy, trap-ish take on his classic.
96) Strawberry Letter #44
Arguably the oddest selection in Goldsher’s catalog, this tribute to Barack Obama has two distinct sections: The nu-jazzy part one and the disco-ducky part two, both of which feature interspersed snippets of Obama’s Greatest Hits. Worth three or four listens. But not five. And definitely not 44.
95) Feels So Good
What can you say about a reggae-ish cover of a Chuck Mangione song? Seriously, what can you say? We can’t think of anything.
94) My Favorite Sport
We have a spot in our hearts for old-old-old-school hip-hop beats, thus we have a spot in our hearts for this Scott La Rock-inspired groover. But — say it with us, now — it lacks development.
93) Foe Or Friend
A deep dive into this companion piece to “Friend Or Foe” shows that Goldsher pulled the most electric eight bars from the other composition and remixed it into something fresh-ish. Not necessarily something notably better. But something fresh-ish.
92) So What
We suspect that had Goldsher recorded this in 2023 rather than 2020, it might’ve had more maturity and resonance. As it is, this jungle house version of the Miles Davis classic feels simultaneously incomplete and overblown. He does, however, get significant points for his electric bass work, which comes off as the love child of Tony Levin and Brian Bromberg.
91) Some 70s Shit
Sometimes Goldsher’s most memorable tunes are the simplest, which is the case here. That said, the simplicity might be a bit heavy-handed (or light-handed, as the case may be), making this a what-coulda-been kind of deal.
90) Eyes Agleam
Hand this one over to a killer mixing engineer (Bob Clearmountain? Chris Lord-Alge?), and you’d have something with some staying power. Its lack of deep bottom end, however, keeps it out of Goldsher’s top tier.
89) Wash Away the Dust (version two)
One of Goldsher’s best characteristics is that he rarely sounds exactly like any other artist. This tune, however, could have come off of a New Mastersounds record. A solid New Mastersounds ripoff, but a ripoff nonetheless.
88) My Sharona
Easily the funniest of Goldsher’s covers, this reimagining of the Knack’s classic rock classic is a tad too hyper for regular consumption. Not to play armchair quarterback, but had he slowed it down by about 15 BPM, this could’ve been a viral sensation…at least among classic rockers.
87) Dad Jokes
This thoughtful chill-out piece is propelled by Goldsher’s double-stop bass lines and a mood-setting vibraphone groove. It would be an ideal soundtrack for, say, a 1990s-era indie movie — but is that what we want on our playlist?
86) D-Minor: The Saddest of All Keys
Based on the title, one would expect some sort of aural nod to Spinal Tap. As it is, it’s literally a sad-sounding song in the key of D-minor. It has two distinct parts, both of which are quite enjoyable, but don’t necessarily mesh.
85) Way Back Home
This admittedly beauteous cover of a Crusaders jazz-soul fave is lacking…something. Maybe it’s a chorus or two of improvisation. Maybe it’s a second or third instrumental voice on the front line. Maybe it’s a guest apperance from an actual Crusader. But this is from his debut collection, and Goldsher was still finding his way.
84) Gorillas and Gorillaz
From his EP Live at the Lakeview Lounge, this piano/bass/drums jam comes across as if you threw some Bud Powell vinyl and a Chick Corea CD into a Kitchen Aid, then covered the entire thing with the burnt ashes of a Kendrick Lamar t-shirt.
83) Fat Mama/Quiet Storm
If you listen to the original version of both of these tunes — the former by Herbie Hancock and the latter by Smokey Robinson — you’ll realize that combining the two makes sense. Not peanut-butter-and-chocolate-level sense, but close enough.
82) Fables Of Faubus
We’re conflicted about this one. On one hand, it’s a perfectly enjoyable listen. On the other hand, we’re confident that the tune’s composer, the infamously irascible Charles Mingus, would despise it. We don’t want to get on Mingus’ bad side — he’s terrifying, even though he’s dead — so we’ll leave it at that.
81) Sunburst Synapse
Some of Goldsher’s early material feels like a bullet train veering off its tracks. And sometimes, that kinetic unpredictability is a good thing, as is the case on this banger.
80) Spanish Inquisition 2: Electric Boogaloo
Approximately 25% of Goldsher’s output is flat-out fun. It’s not groundbreaking. It’s not earth-shattering. It’s not Grammy material. But it gets you on your feet and gets you smiling. That’s the case here.
79) You Too
Cool song, but Goldsher’s bass is out of tune to the point that it’s distracting. There are certain musicians who can get away with this sort of sloppiness — Bob Dylan made a career out of crappy intonation — but not Goldsher.
78) Script Flipped
The chord changes remind us of John Coltrane’s “Syeeda’s Song Flute,” and the beat reminds us of East Coast hip-hop, circa 1995. A satisfying combo platter.
77) Grace the Place, Trace the Bass
Goldsher’s bass line was ripped from the obscure Minugs composition, “Hobo Ho.” The tiny batch of lyrics feel like they could’ve been kidnapped from a Fatboy Slim B-side. None of that is a bad thing.
76) The Accuweather Forecast
Drum-and-bass meets bebop bass. A rewarding dyad that would’ve been more interesting and successful in 1998. Enjoyable, sure, but derivative.
75) Una Noche Con Frances
Coulda, woulda, shoulda. The interpretation of Bud Powell’s tune? Check. The layered frontline harmonies? Check. The restrained beat? Check. But the choice to include Dexter Gordon sound clips rather than an improvised solo? Misstep City.
74) Lithium
Nirvana + Dubstep = Interesting + Almost
73) The Pocket (version one)
One of Goldsher’s slickest bass lines, it took him two albums to get this one just right. Version #2 prevails, but version #1 is plenty funky.
72) Back To You
Goldsher’s fan base cites this one among their go-tos, thus its realtively high rating. We don’t cit, only because the sum doesn’t quite equal the parts…and one of those parts sounds like the theme to the 11:00 news.
71) Grading
Goldsher’s predilection for smashing together two or three styles in the span of eight bars is a hit-or-miss proposition. It’s all fine and good to meld Scott Walker with Albert Ayler and a TR-808, but it can make things…challenging. In this instances, shifting between minimalist nu-jazz with fun and bouncy hip-hop kinda works.
70) Sky High
We’re already established that Charles Mingus might not be Alan Goldsher’s biggest fan. Donald Byrd, on the other hand, would get on board, as Goldsher’s ebullient rendering of the trumpeter’s 1973 soul-funk masterpiece hits the sweet spot between emulation and adoration.
69) Straight Life
A mid-tempo Fender Rhodes-driven jam that once again demonstrates Goldsher’s affinity for updating mid-1970s tunes composed by trumpet masters not named Miles Davis (see above). One can only hope he opens the songbooks of Blue Mitchell, Eddie Henderson, Nat Adderley, Hugh Masekela, Randy Brecker, and Don Ellis.
68) To Alhaji Bai Konte
Until we heard this song, our favorite Danish guitarists were Børge Ring (when he wasn’t directing films like Oh My Darling, of course), Jakob Bro, and Henrik Andersen. But this take on a gentle ballad composed by Pierre Dørge sent us down a Dørge rabbit hole, and we liked it down there. So we stayed.
67) Baby Bass
Mood music for when you’re not in the mood for mood music.
66) Take Five
It took us 17 listens and about two hours of research to figure out that the sampled voice at the beginning of the track belongs to one Frank Zappa. That’s almost as cool as the fact that Goldsher rebooted the Paul Desmond composition — originally played in a 5/4 time signature — as a 4/4 romp. Zappa would approve.
65) Breezin’
An author by trade, Goldsher must have taken extra special care with this one, as the tune was made famous by George Benson — a guitarist/vocalist whose memoir Goldsher ghostwrote. Does it love up to Benson’s rendering? Or Gabor Szabo’s? Or Hank Crawford’s? Or Masayoshi Takanaka’s? We’ll land it below Szabo and above Crawford.
64) Digit1Lounge
Truth in advertising. This is a lounge tune. And a good one. Not great. Just good. But good is good.
63) Thumb
Sometimes, Goldsher just lays it out there. No frills, no muss, no fuss, just pleasant grooves, melodic keyboard improvs, and, of course, stick-in-your-craw bass lines.
62) The Rumproller
We have mixed feelings about this one. On one hand, this cover of the title cut from trumpeter Lee Morgan’s 1965 justifiably acclaimed Blue Note Records outing is practically twice the tempo of the original and, thusly, wildly out of control. On the other hand, you’d never know that the trumpet and tenor sax sounds heard here are MIDI-generated, so props on that.
61) Chameleon
One of the original electrified jazz/soul crossover tunes, this Herbie Hancock composition has been covered about 6,000,000 times, with varying degrees of success. Slot Goldsher’s reggae-fied rundown on the plus side of that equation.
60) Love and Peace
Among Goldsher’s most clever covers, this utterly original drum-and-bass throwdown of the deep-crate Quincy Jones composition could have come from the studio of Goldie, Netsky, or Dieselboy.
59) On A Plain
Of all the tunes on Goldsher’s Nirvana cover album, this four-on-the-floor Chicago house rave up is probably the one Cobain would hate the most. Which might explain why we like it.
58) CollectX
Like a percentage of Goldsher’s work, this one could be the theme song to a murder podcast. And we mean that in the most complimentary manner possible.
57) Excursions
Let’s get this out there right now: Alan Goldsher can’t rap. He tries. He tries hard. But he’s on the level of Young Black Teenagers and K-Fed. (Credit where credit is due, he’s better than Vanilla Ice.) But his weirdo hippy-dippy vocal work on this ATCQ cover — he sounds like he’s on ‘ludes and/or Dextromethorphan — is certainly compelling enough. And, also credit where credit is due, we suspect that Q-Tip would bite the bass line in a minute.
56) Still Sticky
Some of our favorites from the Alan Goldsher Songbook are the tunes that are actually tunes, you know, with chord changes and bridges and harmonies and the like. That’s the deal here.
55) Alt AF
Frenetic. Disjointed. Inscrutable. Entertaining.
54) Come As You Are
The most loyal rendering from his Nirvanawannabe set, this tune is, if nothing else, proof that Kurt Cobain could write the hell out of a melody. Kudos to Goldsher for recognizing and embracing the Aberdeen native’s nose for auditory hooks.
53) The Other Pocket
In interviews, Goldsher has expressed his interest in creating what he calls “build songs,” compositions that generally begin with a bass hook then crecendo to a provocative, near-rapturous sense of chaos. This could’ve used an edit — 30 seconds less on the fade seems right — but it’s one of the highlights of his early work.
52) One By One
Another Wayne Shorter cover, but unlike his take of “Witch Hunt,” Goldsher sticks forgoes rapping in favor of a drum-and-bass bed of beats. Wise, wise decision.
51) Memphis Underground
“Trading fours” is a form of conversational improvisation where musicians build a solo together by alternating four measures. Here, Goldsher trades fours with himself, offering splashes of funk-bop from a MIDI-generated flute, a MIDI-generated Wurlitzer keyboard, and a MIDI-generated Hammond B-3 organ. Good thing we don’t have issues with MIDI generation.
50) Red Clay
Before pivoting to a more improvisitional-based approach, Goldsher tended to lay down a song’s melody, then a few minutes of effective groove, then a revisit of the melody. This celebratory disco-fied rundown of the venerable Freddie Hubbard jam exemplifies that approach in an engaging, non-disposable manner.
49) Sticky
See: #56. Same song, same deal, basically.
48) Natty’s Other Idea
Goldsher’s second outing, 96 BPM, is a collections of tunes that each clock in at, you guessed it, 96 beats per minutes. He gets points for the diversity on the repetitive tempo, and this ballad is the most divergent tune the album has to offer.
47) Digit4AcidJazz
The best tune on his Digits album, and it’s not even close. (Frankly, most of that album comes off as phoned-in mediocrity.)
46) Sunny Bird (version two)
One of the bassist’s prettiest songs, this reboot is filled with delightful little touches that are discovered and appreciated after multiple listens on headphones in an empty apartment in a room with the shades halfway drawn.
45) I Like This Song, It’s Funky
We like this song. It’s funky. We don’t like the title. It’s simplistic.
44) Spiral Dance
A listener commented that Goldsher’s take on this Keith Jarrett deep cut meanders…but so does Jarrett’s original. We accept loyal meandering, and don’t abide by misguided listener comments.
43) Listen Here
If Goldsher had a Taylor Swift-level fan base, he’d single-handedly create interest in soul-jazz recorded between 1967 and 1975. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have a Taylor Swift-level fan base — and he never will — so we’ll have to enjoy this Eddie Harris cover with Goldsher’s 72 other loyalists.
42) All Apologies
Another instrumentalized Nirvana cover that Kurt Cobain wouldn’t sign off on.
41) Health (Not) Care
To reiterate: Alan Goldsher can’t rap. But on this heartfelt, heartbreaking story of his battle with epilepsy and the country’s Byzantine healthcare system, he’s allowed.
40) Cissy Strut
Goldsher has a tendency to make his covers sound as little like the original as possible, without losing the orginal’s melody or spirit. Here, he remains completely loyal to the Meters, and we’re all better off for it.
39) The Written Word
If you’re ever asked, “What’s Alan Goldsher’s music about?” point them to this song, a jaunty Goldsher-esque (is that a word?) jam that would work on a dance floor, in a bar, or in your living room.
38) Everybody Loves the Sunshine
One suspects that given his druthers, Goldsher would record an album almost entirely consisting of bass solos. Based on this Roy Ayres exegesis, it just might work. (Or not. Because how much bass from somebody who isn’t Tony Levin can one listener take?)
37) Ruby Red
When he puts his mind to it, Goldsher can slap together an A+ ear worm. This childlike hop-skipper is as ear wormy as he’s ever gotten.
36) Mercy Mercy Mercy
Some might view the opening track of his most popular album Big Al Bassman Funks Up the Jazz Classic as a gimmicky, over-produced, onanistic trifle. But not us.
If you get a kick out of MIDI trombones — and who doesn’t ?— you’ll be enchanted by this loping, limping, limber lullaby.
34) The Girl From Ipanema
When you look at the list of tunes Goldsher has covered — and it’s a list that seems to get longer each month — it feels inevitable that the Jobim would make it into the repertoire. But the inevitability is mitigated by the distinction.
33) On the Ginza
The part-time author wrote an entire book about Art Blakey, so one should expect him to include a whole lot of Jazz Messengers material in the Alan Goldsher songbook. This begs the question, is too much Art Blakey…too much? Taking this track into consideration, it’s all good. For now.
32) In Bloom
We LOL’d (in a good way) at this blasphemous downtempo Nirvana tribute…but is it a tribute? Or is it a diss? Goldsher seems like he works in a snark-free zone, so we’ll go with the former.
31) The Pocket (version two)
The first version of “The Pocket” is, at best, okay. The second version of “The Pocket” is more than okay. For that matter, it’s delightful, recalling David Axlerod, David Shire, David Newman, David Amram, and David Heymann.
20) About a Girl
The clinker factor on Goldsher’s Nirvana tribute is relatively low, and the highs are notably high. This jungle groove redux is notably high.
29) Z’s Jam
While it won’t ever be in the, “What’s the best side-one-cut-one in music history” conversation, the opening track of Goldsher’s debut is a satisfying rocker that would make for a phenomenal ringtone.
28) The Message
The B-side of his Meters cover tops the A-side. Sorry, A-side, but you know it’s true.
27) Moanin’
His finest Art Blakey homage, Goldsher’s deft use of rubato during the bridge improvisations are unpretentious, unassuming, unostentious, and unimposing.
26) Heart-Shaped Box
We’re curious as to how Dave Grohl would feel about this tune’s churning funk beat. For that matter, we’re curious as to how Dave Grohl would play a churning funk beat. We know it would be astounding. But we’re still curious.
25) One More Time
Goldsher demonstrates his adoration of 90s hip-hop with a choppy, ingratiating collection of bass lines ripped from the Beastie Boys, Black Sheep, and Dr. Dre, among others. It shouldn’t work. But it does.
24) Burning Man
This is Goldsher’s third-most streamed song, and while it’s not our favorite, the masses have spoken, and once in a rare while, we actually listen to the masses.
23) The Hive
If the improvisations matched the intensity, the grit, and the expansiveness of the beat, this could have cracked the top ten. So close. So damn close.
22) Fishing For Pets: The Rhodes Reboot
Goldsher’s penchant for re-recording his originals is a wobbly proposition. Sometimes it works (“Sunny Bird”), and sometimes it’s unnecessary (“Wash Away the Dust”). With this adorable second pass at his second-most streamed song, it makes sense.
21) Percolate
The last 48 seconds of the best track from his debut outing is among the best 48 seconds of Goldsher’s discography. Ballsy, ballistic, bombastic, and mere millimeters away from brilliance.
20) Natty’s Bakery
Throw Harry Belafonte, Jaco Pastorius, Luiz Bonfá, Charlie Byrd, and Boogsie Sharpe, and four cups of brown sugar into a blender, and you’ve got “Natty’s Bakery.”
19) Maiden Voyage
Putting it politely, Goldsher’s keyboard work is evolving. He’s nowhere near Chick Corea’s universe, but on this wild Herbie Hancock cover, he does a credible Corea impression, bashing the crap out of a crankily overdriven Rhodes.
18) Drain You
An instrumental Brazilian attack? On a depressing Nirvana track? With a two-minute percussion solo? Sounds absurd. But it’s not. At least for the most part.
17) Fishing For Pets (version one)
To reiterate, putting it politely, Goldsher’s keyboard work is evolving, but here — what with the lolloping tempo and winsome chord changes — it feels evolved. Relatively.
16) Birdland
On this everyting-but-the-kitchen-sink cover of the beloved Weather Report hit, there’s a sense of swirling, freak-out energy that gets it across the finish line.
15) I Believe (When I Fall In Love It Will Be Forever)
Simplicity isn’t usually part of the Goldsher canon, but on this sumptuous soul salute, he pares it down in a manner that the former Stevland Hardaway Morris would appreciate.
14) Zoë Lost a Tooth
The leadoff cut from Goldsher’s COVID EP Glue, this sweet, silly tribute to his daughter is irresistibly endearing, worthy of inclusion in a “Hey, I need a cheer-up song” Spotify playlist.
13) Ayers It Out
With it’s complex melody, slick arrangement, and diverse instrumentation, this homage to Roy Ayres marked a turning-point in Goldsher’s approach, the moment when he shifted from dance-floor-filler to tunesmith.
12) She’s a Rainbow
When we were hipped to the fact that Goldsher was taking on the Rolling Stones, our stomachs fell. But when we heard it, out tummies went back to their proper perches. The upright walking bass doubled with the acoustic piano and the “background vocals”? Chef’s kiss.
11) The Revolution Will Not Be Televised
We’ve trashed Goldsher’s vocal abilities — such as they are — on numerous occasions, but here, he channels Gil Scott-Heron’s attitude with reverence and sincerity. Whether or not a white dude from the Chicago suburbs should be covering this protest song is a discussion for another column.
10) On the Q.T.
Like version two of “The Pocket,” this cinematic gem is an agile David Axlerod/David Shire/David Newman/David Amram/David Heymann melange.
9) It’s About That Time
We well aware that this take of Miles Davis’ 1969 seminal jazz-fusion composition was recorded entirely with MIDI, but man oh man, if you didn’t know, you wouldn’t know. Floaty, funky, and fun.
8) F = Funk
And speaking of floaty, funky, and fun, this one-chord wonder simultaneously recalls James Brown, Wynton Marsalis, Beethoven, and Jimmy Smith. (Okay, maybe not Beethoven. But maybe yes Beethoven!)
7) Aphrodite Shake/African Pop Session
Remember when Goldsher sent us down that Pierre Dørge rabbit hole? Well, he did it again, in this case with African sax great Manu Dibango. We pride ourselves on knowing every musician ever, and while we’re aware of Dibango, we weren’t aware aware. So thank you, Alan Goldsher. Thank you so very, very much.
6) Bullish and Bearish
It’s understandable why this effortless piano/bass/drums is Goldsher’s best-known track, as it’s easy on the brain but intense in the heart. And the key change at the bridge is an inspiring six seconds.
5) Jean-Pierre
In what could have gone terribly sideways, this cover of Miles Davis’ cutesy nursery rhyme — the second Miles cut in the top ten — is just right. On-point harmonies, on-point improvisation, on-point arrangement. If all of Goldsher’s covers were this on-point, he might have himself a career.
4) Uninvited
Charles Mingus wouldn’t be impressed with “Fables of Faubus.” Kurt Cobain wouldn’t be impressed with, well, any of Goldsher’s stuff. But Alanis Morissette would very likely be impressed with Goldsher’s veneration and earnestness on her Grammy-winning composition.
3) The Boogoo Reboot
Goldsher throws around the word “jazztronica” a whole bunch, and until we heard this propulsive funk-fest, we didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. Now we do.
2) The Hungry Rainbow
Do we like disco? In this case, the answer is a resounding yes. What with the traditional disco chord changes — and yes, there are traditional disco chord changes — and memorable string arrangement, Giorgio Moroder would be proud.
1) What a Wonderful World
It all comes together here — and who’d have thought it would all come together on a Louis Armstrong tune? An opulent approach to the melody on a phase-soaked electric bass. A build-from-the-ground-up arrangement. A speaker-melting climax. This almost makes up for “Can’t Hold It Back.” Almost.