On those rare occasions when I look back at my recording career, the album covers and songs remind me of the eras in which I made them. When I first started out in the early ’60s, by necessity and circumstance, we worked fast. We didn’t have the time, budget or technology to record an infinite number of tracks. As a result of these so-called “limitations,” we had fewer decisions to make about the best takes or mixes.

I suppose this is how between concerts, TV appearances, Broadway musicals, making movies, raising a child, devoting time to social causes, antique hunting, and shopping for one-of-a-kind vintage clothes, I was able to record two albums a year for two decades! The boundless energy of youth is quite remarkable!

For me, the studio is a combination musical playground and laboratory…a private sanctuary, where the possibility of catching lightning in a bottle always exists. Whenever that kind of magic happens, it’s extremely satisfying. Sometimes though, when the arrangement doesn’t quite gel or the song no longer fits the tone of the album it was meant for, the tapes go into the vault for safekeeping.

Working on this 2nd volume of Release Me has been a lovely walk down memory lane…a chance to revisit, and in some cases, add a finishing instrumental touch to songs that still resonate for me in meaningful ways. I’m particularly struck by the ongoing relevance of “Be Aware” and “One Day,” which still speak to our collective sense of humanity.

My brilliant friend, Leonard Bernstein, once said, “Music can name the unnamable and communicate the unknowable.” I think that’s true, because the songs I’ve recorded have provided me ways of expressing thoughts and feelings that would otherwise be difficult to convey. With that in mind, I hope this collection of tracks that have been quietly resting in their tape boxes, waiting to be released, will stir your emotions or simply make you smile.