soul

Album of the Week: Bloodstone s/t (1972)

October 24, 2022 — Leave a comment

Bloodstone started in Kansas City in the early 60s as a junior high singing quartet started by Harry Williams, which became The Sinceres. While The Sinceres they never released an album, you can find their excellent single “Don’t Waste My Time” on Spotify. Moving to LA as Bloodstone, they recorded and released this excellent debut for Decca.

Bloodstone is a tight mix of classic 60s R&B and dirty 70s funk. I love the electric guitar on this record. While opener “Sadie Mae” is not necessarily a killer song, the band makes up for it with their ripping guitars. The centerpiece here is the lone cover song, “Little Green Apples”, written by Bobby Russell and performed by several artists including O.C. Smith, who hit #2 on Billboard with his version. Whereas Smith’s version was about 4 minutes, Bloodstone kick it into epic territory with a 9 minute take. The pre-chorus (“If that’s not lovin’ me…”) is magically drawn out, and the falsetto backing vocals make the track. This is a killer soul deep cut.

The B-side starts with “This Thing is Heavy”, an outsider’s take on the bourgeoning world of recreational drug use (“What’s this thing, people talkin’ bout ‘let’s get high’?”) “Lady of the Night” is a funky rave-up with some excellent rhythm guitar. Next to “Little Green Apples”, closer “Dumb Dude” might be my favorite track here. It starts out as an almost dirge, with Bloodstone’s vocal-group roots showing in vocal harmonies. Then the track finds a more upbeat groove in its final 2 minutes, with a killer guitar tone. Wonderful ending to a tight album.

Bloodstone would go on to record their biggest hit as the title track of their sophomore record, Natural High. Somewhat oddly, the entire B-side of Bloodstone was released on the CD (and now streaming) version of their third LP, Unreal, which is also a winner. But for a place to start, Bloodstone comes with my high recommendation.

Listen to Bloodstone here.

Album of the Week: Curtis Mayfield’s Sweet Exorcist (1974)

July 25, 2022 — Leave a comment

We love Curtis Mayfield over here at GSG. Curtis, Roots, Superfly – all stone-cold classics, not to mention There’s No Place Like America Today, my personal favorite of his. A few of his albums slipped through the cracks though, including Sweet Exorcist.

A 1974 review in Rolling Stone complains that the album “sounds hastily conceived and then competently executed to meet some contractual deadline.” Christgau gave the album a C and wrote that “To Be Invisible” is “its only interesting song.” Was Sweet Exorcist deserving of its lukewarm reception?

Well, yes and no. Compared to earlier outings from Mayfield, it’s a step down. But once you’ve listened to those records innumerable times, this one comes as something of a fresh discovery. It’s certainly not as weird as the cover would suggest – and seriously, what is going on here? Naked blue-haired men rising from a skeleton sea to lift up the planets and an electrified embryo? I’m not sure if this cover helped or hurt sales.

But the contents are, for the most part, classic Curtis. The title track grooves and “To Be Invisible” is a damn good ballad. While “Power to the People” is a bit rote and “Kung Fu” is lyrically silly, the rest are solid tracks. “Suffer” has a co-writing credit from Donny Hathaway and is accordingly heartfelt. “Make Me Believe in You” ends things on a strong note with a driving beat.

At just over half an hour, Exorcist feels a little slim. Who knows, maybe it was indeed executed to meet some contractual deadline. Nevertheless, we have in 2022 the convenient ability to instantly stream this music instead of going out and buying the record, weird-ass cover and all.

Listen to Sweet Exorcist here.

Album of the Week: The Intruders’ Cowboys to Girls (1968)

May 23, 2022 — Leave a comment

Remember as a kid when you used to chase girls and beat ‘em up? What? You don’t? Well, me neither actually. But this is a strange memory of the narrator in “Cowboys to Girls”, a lush dream of a track from The Intruders, an R&B group and early musical project for Philadelphians Gamble & Huff.

Though they would go on to write and produce bigger and better tracks, like “Love Train” and “Me and Mrs. Jones”, Gamble & Huff’s work on Cowboys to Girls has its own breezy charm. Reportedly from North Philly and led (originally) by the smoky voice of Sam “Little Sonny” Brown, The Intruders straddle the line between the harmony-heavy doo-wop of the early 60s and the smooth soul of the early 70s.

“Turn the Hands of Time” recalls The Supremes or Jackson 5 in its ecstatic chorus. Clocking in at under 2 minutes, “Sad Girl” is (perhaps too) short and sweet, rounding out the first side. In the second half we have the quite corny, yet cute “(Love Is Like A) Baseball Game”. Not really as great a metaphor/song as “Heat Wave”, but they can’t all be classics. I do like this brief version of “By the Time I Get to Phoenix”, which, although originally performed by Glen Campbell, I most associate with Isaac Hayes’ mammoth 18 minute version.

The Intruders would go on to release several more albums, which I have not yet heard at the time of this rating. But I recommend Cowboys to Girls to any soul/R&B fan looking for something slightly obscure (it is difficult even to find a high-res upload of the album cover) yet very smooth.

Listen to Cowboys to Girls here.

Album of the Week: James Brown’s There It Is (1972)

January 10, 2022 — Leave a comment

The Godfather of Soul has an overwhelmingly huge discography, and I’ve heard relatively few of his studio albums, live albums or compilations. The guy basically invented funk music, and many fans point to records like Sex Machine and The Payback as essential collections of his energetic funk mastery.

There It Is is a bit different. It contains some tracks that are outside the sound of James Brown’s typical oeuvre. “King Heroin” is amazingly surreal: over a laconic groove, Brown describes a dream about a “strange weird object” talking to people. Turns out it’s heroin, and Brown (as the anthropomorphic heroin) recites the dangers of the deadly drug. This one must be heard to be believed! Ultimately, James Brown’s anti-drug PSAs feel hypocritical, as he would go on to abuse PCP and other drugs for years. “Public Enemy #1” follows the example of “King Heroin”, but packs less of a punch.

There are a few classic funk cuts here, most notably “Talkin’ Loud and Saying Nothin'”, “I’m a Greedy Man” and the title track. “Who Am I” is a rare James Brown ballad, and his voice isn’t exactly tailor-made for the style. Nevertheless, I like it. The closer “Never Can Say Goodbye” has a laid-back beat similar to “King Heroin”, but there’s no proselytizing on this song. It’s a nice way to end a strong outing from the prolific James Brown.

Listen to There It Is here.

Album of the Week: The Gap Band’s Gap Band IV (1982)

December 13, 2021 — Leave a comment

Elementary school gym class, 2003. It’s a beautiful day in suburban Pennsylvania, and I’m ridin’ dirty:

The scooter board experience was fun even for a chubster like myself. At least until you sat too far back and the thing flipped upwards in front of you and you landed on your ass. Or you had to race 30 other kids and got some shoes in your face or whatever. I liked the free time to just glide around the gymnasium floor like a roomba. And on these days, there’s one song I remember the gym teachers blasting over the speakers repeatedly: The Gap Band’s “You Dropped a Bomb on Me”.

Maybe not the most appropriate track given the “you turn me on” line, but damn if I didn’t love this one as a kid. The synth tone is too funky, and of course what makes it is that cartoonish bomb-dropping sound effect. Fucking sick. And it’s just as electrifying today.

“You Dropped a Bomb on Me” is probably The Gap Band’s biggest hit in terms of chart position, but Gap Band IV also features “Outstanding”. This one is a proven smash at any party, and younger listeners might recognize the melody from Tyler the Creator’s “911”.

I have yet to listen to a lot of Gap Band albums, but I can tell you that this is one of those records where every song is good. I love “Early in the Morning”: it begins with a rooster cawing and an ominous synth tone, before the piano shines some sun on the track. It’s an upbeat jam that’s as good as any to start your day to. Charlie Wilson would reuse the “I was young and foolish…” bridge 23 years later on Snoop Dogg’s “Signs” (another classic from my childhood). “Season’s No Reason to Change” has a Stevie Wonder vibe to it, while “Lonely Like Me” is conceptually similar to “Call Me Maybe”: hey, I just met you, but maybe we have something in common!

“Talkin’ Back” is such a clear P-Funk track that it almost feels like George Clinton should receive royalties. This wasn’t totally new for The Gap Band (see 1980’s “Humpin'”), but it’s the only track on IV that fits the description. Nevertheless, it’s so good that it doesn’t really matter. As a closer it makes it clear that The Gap Band’s party is just getting started, and indeed they would keep releasing numbered albums up through 1987’s Gap Band 8 (their… 11th album?). I’ll have to get back to you on the rest of those records, but IV is a funky 80s gem.

Listen to Gap Band IV here.

Album of the Week: Shuggie Otis’ Freedom Flight (1971)

September 20, 2021 — Leave a comment

17. How’s that for writing “Strawberry Letter #23”? Yes, Shuggie Otis was 17 when he sported that cool mustache and wrote and recorded Freedom Flight, the predecessor to his masterpiece Inspiration Information and an excellent album in its own right. It’s one of his only records, as he essentially disappeared after 1975.

According to a 2016 profile in The Guardian, the guitarist “admits he enjoyed being out of the spotlight, away from the pressures of being Shuggie Otis, the erstwhile teen prodigy who never quite managed to capitalise on all the acclaim”. It is not often that an artist takes over 40 years to release their next album, but that is exactly what happened with Shuggie Otis. 2018’s Inter-fusion proves that he never lost his guitar-playing chops (or, you know, died or anything), but the songs aren’t there. The only track with vocals is “Ice Cold Daydream” a pale remake of the first track on Freedom Flight.

The Freedom Flight version of “Ice Cold Daydream” starts things off with pep. Then we have the classic “Strawberry Letter #23”, an all-time love song that became a hit for the Brothers Johnson several years later. Shuggie plays “Me & My Woman” with a blues expertise that would make B.B. King proud. “Purple” is a bit formless, but it still rips. Then there’s the title-track. “Freedom Flight” is a stoned 70s classic, a peaceful psychedelic odyssey. None other than George Duke plays keys here, and his assistance gives the track some rhythm after a few minutes.

As a listener, you can’t help but feel a little frustrated that there isn’t more to Shuggie Otis’s discography. Maybe his youthful spark didn’t last. Maybe he was too hard-headed about playing solo, or the alcohol got in the way. Whatever the case may be, Shuggie is a living legend, and Freedom Flight is a standout album of the rich 70s.

Listen to Freedom Flight here.

Album of the Week: Kool & The Gang’s Light of Worlds (1974)

June 28, 2021 — Leave a comment

wrrrrrrrrrrrrr – WRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr – WRRRRRRAAAAAA – WRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAA – WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Is there any song quite like “Summer Madness”? Those rising synth notes (presented in my best written attempt above) are jolting; they raise the hair on your arms. The track is iconic enough that it’s been sampled hundreds of times (I heard it years ago in Digable Planets “Jimmi Diggin Cats”), and remains a highlight on Light of Worlds, the fifth album from Kool & The Gang.

Yes, it’s Kool & The Gang, of “Celebration” and “Ladies Night” fame. Light of Worlds finds them pre-Chart Toppers, but post-“Jungle Boogie”. In other words, they weren’t yet a total sensation but they knew how to make a hit. Light of Worlds, then, bubbles with under-the-radar jazz-funk flavor. As an ensemble, they rival Earth, Wind & Fire in their ability to blend funk and pop.

Fans of J Dilla’s Donuts will instantly recognize “Fruitman” from “The Diff’rence”. It’s a groovy, horn-filled jam and an early highlight. The rhythm section is super tight throughout the album, but the title track especially feels like the Gang in top form. The late Ronald Bell, who fronted the group, whips out his fat ARP synth on the second side, and oh boy does this thing rip. Listen to “Whiting H. & G.” and tell me you don’t feel like you’re cruising down the coast with shades on in a convertible. The seagull sounds at the end don’t hurt either.

I’m kind of surprised “You Don’t Have to Change” wasn’t released as a single: it’s as mellow and accessible as most anything else released in ’74. The melody in the verses to me recalls The Spinners’ “It’s a Shame”, which is another classic. “Higher Plane” was the album’s biggest hit on the R&B charts, and its tight funk guitar reminds me of another “Higher” song by one Stevie Wonder. “Here After” closes things on a stellar note, with a great voice-over and a spiritual-jazz leaning instrumental, complete with kalimba! I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend this album to any fan of 70s soul music, whether pop, funk or jazz is your thing. Light of Worlds does it all and does it well.

Listen to Light of Worlds here.

***

BONUS ROUND: YouTube comments on this live “Summer Madness” –

“this version sounds clean and smooth like the album version, i love to smoke weed to this song” (from user masterbate23)

“i am seriously High and im loving this live version!” (from user DontPanic2008)

“Kool and the Gang are definitely cool.” (from user Shanedango32)

Album of the Week: Presenting Isaac Hayes (1968)

June 14, 2021 — Leave a comment

Isaac Hayes was the man before he was the man. At 22, the Tennessee native was playing keys on Otis Redding records and writing songs for Sam & Dave. Fast forward a few years and we arrive at his breakout Hot Buttered Soul (1969), one of those records to end all records, a consummate soul masterpiece. Stand it up next to What’s Goin’ On, Innervisions, what have you. Hot Buttered Soul is a monolith.

But it wasn’t Hayes’ debut. That would be the previous year’s Presenting Isaac Hayes, a surprisingly unknown soul-jazz session that deserves more props. The back-cover details the story of a typical 60s night in Memphis with Big Ike: “A few years back, Isaac strolled into Currie’s Tropicana Club in Memphis and sat in with the group, which included drummer Al Jackson, Jr. He sat down at the piano and began rambling over the keyboard. His offerings were an instant crowd success.” This was the Stax/Volt Records house band, essentially Booker T. & The M.G.s augmented with Isaac Hayes instead of Booker, who was in school at the time.

Presenting finds Hayes on piano and vocals, with the aforementioned Jackson Jr. on drums and Donald “Duck” Dunn on bass guitar. The trio’s Stax sessions for the album were improvised with no additional musicians. I’d love to hear more from these sessions, since the original album with 5 tracks is only half an hour long.

Once you’ve heard the full version of “Precious, Precious”, the album edit doesn’t really work. It’s sort of like if you took a 20-minute Coltrane session and cut it down to 3 minutes. Like its perfect follow-up Hot Buttered Soul, Presenting Isaac Hayes works best outside the confines of radio-friendly time constraints. The longform tracks here are just excellent – “I Just Want to Make Love to You” is raw: the sound is live and intimate, like you’re in the studio with the three players. With alcohol on his breath, Ike has a vocal swagger that pushes the track to the next level. It’s blues, as blue as Willie Dixon’s original, but Hayes’ chops on piano take it to the ever-transcendent realm of soul-jazz.

The “Going to Chicago Blues” track is another rambling wonder, with a fantastic vocal from Hayes at the end of the conjoined “Misty”. The closer “You Don’t Know Like I Know” is one of two Ike originals (though he makes every song his own), and the instrumental piece wouldn’t sound out of place on an Ahmad Jamal Trio record. There’s something in the timbre of the drums here, they’re just so warm and organic. While I wouldn’t mind vocals, it’s a great cut nonetheless.

And then, on streaming and reissue versions, we conclude with the long version of “Precious, Precious”. Wow! Big Ike is feelin’ it here! It’s no wonder he has that top hat and baton on the cover, because this is 20 minutes of magic. Sorry for the corny line, but listen! The man mumbles and wonders, the band carries the driving theme and the music just flows and flows. I love Isaac Hayes wordless vocals, it sounds like he’s making love to the music. Or, as Lil Wayne would say 45 years later, “I just fucked this piano”. Probably another reason they cut it for the first release.

If you like jazzy R&B, soulful jazz, soul-jazz, improvised blues jams or otherwise groovy tunes, don’t hesitate to give this one a spin. It’s an overlooked debut by an underrated master.

Listen to Presenting Isaac Hayes on Spotify.

Album of the Week: Ray Charles & Milt Jackson’s Soul Brothers / Soul Meeting (1958)

March 8, 2021 — Leave a comment

I recently rewatched Ray (2004) on HBO, which was fun, since Jaime Foxx is so charismatic and the music is so good. I think I realized this last year watching Fassbinder’s Gods of the Plague (1970), in which the protagonist slow-dances to “Here We Go Again” in one of the best scenes. Indeed, Ray Charles was immensely talented and his discography is full of gems. In 1958 he recorded Soul Brothers with the famed jazz vibraphonist Milt Jackson, AKA Bags.

This collaboration is interesting for a few reasons. For one, there are no vocals, which makes it atypical of Ray’s output and is probably why it’s one of the lesser-known releases in his oeuvre. Additionally, the two musicians decided to play around with different instruments, switching roles occasionally. That’s Ray Charles on saxophone on “Soul Brothers” and “How Long Blues”, where Milt Jackson plays the piano.

Soul Brothers and Soul Meeting were originally released as two different albums, both culled from 1958 sessions with the latter first released in 1961. The reissue combines them and sort of jumbles the track orders: for example “Soul Brothers”, originally the first track on the titular album, is now track 8. No matter – the two albums are quite similar and the relaxed nature of the pieces don’t require much of a formal order.

As I mentioned above, Ray plays the sax here, and he rips it. I especially love “How Long Blues”. Like most of these tracks, it’s in no hurry, but once you do reach Ray’s sax playing about 6 minutes in, it’s well worth the wait. “Blue Funk” has some tight guitar playing (courtesy of Skeeter Best) and groovy vibes from Bags. You can practically smell the smoke wafting out of some southern bar 60 years ago. As a jazzy collab, this is not the most immediate Ray Charles release. But it’s perfect for that laid-back Sunday afternoon vibe.

Listen to Soul Brothers / Soul Meeting on Spotify.

Album of the Week: Irma Thomas’s Wish Someone Would Care (1964)

December 21, 2020 — Leave a comment

Have you ever felt so lonely you could die? This is that feeling as an album. It’s filled with more lovelorn despair than any of my favorite sad-sack slowcore albums, all while being ten times as soulful and only half as long.

Dubbed the “Soul Queen of New Orleans”, Irma Thomas spent several years recording singles for New Orleans-based Ron Records and Minit Records while raising three children. The late, great Allen Toussaint found success as an arranger and producer on Minit (soon to be bought by Imperial Records), writing Thomas’s 1961 single “Girl Meets Boy”. The song is beautiful, but it does not foreshadow the hopelessness of this record, Wish Someone Would Care. Released at 23, her debut is lyrically pleading, but vocally it exudes the confidence and maturity of someone beyond her years.

The title track, composed by Thomas, opens the album perfectly. Every instrument is bursting with life, and Thomas’s first vocal is a great moan, filled with as much pain as melody. You can’t get a more perfect mission statement for a record filled with lonely yearning than “Wish Someone Would Care”. The next few tracks continue the theme, including the stand-out “Time on My Side”. This song was also released as a single three months later by the young British band known as The Rolling Stones, who had just released their first album and met Thomas in the UK.

Irma Thomas never had an album as commercially successful as this one since, but she is still around. In February, she said, “Survival is the thing I know how to do very well. Today or tomorrow, I get to the point where I can’t make a living singing. I know how to sew. I do a mean pot of red beans and rice.”

Listen to Wish Someone Would Care on Spotify.