Admittedly this is more a sampler of this album than a full review. I didn’t notice until I pulled it out of the sleeve that someone had bit a chunk out of the disc, rendering cuts one, six and seven performus non gratis. The rest of the album, another buck-fifty thrift shop gem, is a crackly, crinkly dip in a pool full of acoustic jazz, folk and blues.
My version of Ice Water opens with Pamela Brown, a sardonic take on Tom T. Hall’s largely unknown tune from the 1960’s. I tend to zoom in on one or two tunes per album and play them over and over. This is the one that catches my fancy hereabouts.
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