The promo lit claiming Melvin Taylor is a "guitarist's guitarist" isn't even vaguely exaggerated, 'cause the guy's a phenom. This, however, is not the venue for verifying that—go, rather, to his Beyond the Burning Guitar (here) if you want to be dazed into submission by jaw-dropping dexterities insufficiently displayed in Taylor Made, which appears to be Taylor's Benson Move. I'm pretty sure, however, that it's a misstep…but, hell, what do I know? Look at all that crap Phil Collins pooted out that made him a rich man. I predicted he'd come a cropper and go crawling back to Peter Gabriel…and guess who's eating franks & beans while he dines on boeuf bourguignon and baked Alaska? This critic gig isn't all it's cracked up to be, so be wary of taking my word too gravely here.
That burning Zappa-esque solo in the funky Heartache is atypical of the CD's essence though highly welcome. Taylor's going Wave/soul/funk-city with this disc, importing refrains from the 'hood rather than putting a sweat on six-string riffburglars and making woodshedding aspirants throw their hands in the air, turning Telecasters and SGs into toothpicks and chopsticks. Frankly, for what I find here, I've found much better elsewhere, though I gotta say the organ/"clav" groove in Heartache, courtesy of Rick Jones, is tough as hell to disengage from, a distinct echo back into what Les Dudek and groups Sea Level used to do so damn well. Nonetheless, all in all, pass.
Edited by: David N. Pyles
Copyright 2013, Peterborough Folk Music Society.
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