As roots as reggae gets, absolutely essential, deeply soulful almost-Rocksteady genius from Bernard Collins and the Manning Brothers. Together they ran the mighty Clinch label, which more or less released their singles but also other top action. They split after this record, and nothing was ever quite the same, although in a way I prefer them having gone out at the absolute zenith instead of what may or may not have lain in wait for them in the depths of the 80s. Basically, this band fronts some of the tightest vocal harmonies in the history of Trenchtown, and that’s where they cashed their checks, but check this lineup: Sly & Robbie, Chinna Smith, Tommy McCook, Boris Gardiner and Errol Thompson behind the board, Bongo Herman on bongo, Ras Jawbone on percussion, Bobby Ellis on trumpet, and my man Cedric IM Brooks on tenor! Whew. Rhythm & Pulse & Island Testify to burn! Worth nothing for the Historically Geographically Hazy: Abyssinia was Ethiopia before Ethiopia, back from the thirteenth century and the rise of the Solomonic Empire (which of course included the saucy Queen Of Sheba), when it likewise contained Eritrea and ruled the Horn Of Africa, all the way up to Mussolini’s disastrous invasion, whereupon Haile Selassie and the Boyz kicked some serious Fascist ass, laying the spiritual and cultural groundwork for the codification of a certain mythic Kingston religion and herbaceous way of life. Oh yea.
Well, this is probably my favorite BN 10”, at least if based on a combination of lineup, music, and art. Which is why, for instance, it beats out another close favorite from ’55, The Lou Mecca Quartet. It’s also extremely cool that the art on the 10” is by Gil Melle! The ’57 12” is also among my favorites in the entire BN catalog, for what should be fairly apparent reasons, for instance three extra tracks from a mind-blowingly great session, an insane lineup of Cecil Payne on baritone, Oscar Pettiford/Percy Heath on bass, Potato Valdes on congas, Blakey, Horace Silver, Hank Mobley, Jay Jay Johnson on trombone, and twelve-year-old genius Dorham blowing the straight horn. PLUS, the 12” may also be my favorite Reid “Fifty Bucks A Cover” Miles cover. Word on the street is that Miles, who was also a compositional kingpin over at racy men’s mag Esquire at the time, didn’t actually like jazz very much. It’s one of those deals where it’s entirely possibly that the genius of his design was predicated on being emotionally removed from the subject. No ham fists or over-laudatory images, just slick color masking, fonts, and photography that, with each release, has a connective tissue and tonal consistency that probably would be impossible if he were a Charlie Parker fanboy. Anyway, you don’t need any words on the cuts, and neither do I. Bop, Baby.
Found this badboy sealed and took a flyer based entirely on the cover and private press potential. Normally the year would have sent me straight to the listening table first, but that wasn’t an option. Ross Records is a joint out of Alabama that has exactly one release to its credit. So, the good news is the vinyl is M, since I’m the first to play it. The bad news is that while it is boogie-funk, which is precisely what I laid out cash for, it’s hopelessly 80’s and garage-produced and pretty dated. Which isn’t to say the one “banger” isn’t fun, cuz it is, but it 100% could have replaced Harold Faltermeyer’s zippy work on the “Beverly Hills Cop” theme and not a single person would have noticed the difference. It’s also sort of a naive/grim testament to the times in that one tune is a warning to The Boyz in the greater Montgomery area to wear condoms when getting busy with Freaks since there’s some wack shit going around. I doubt this one survives the next cull, but I don’t mind owning it for now, Axel Foley’s gonna spend some time in the house and we’re all going to bask in nostalgia for the era of mixtapes and Morris Day dance remixes. I imagine if you’re a DJ, this is a sort of crate grail, but I am not a DJ, just a humble slave to the rhythm. Oh yah.
This is almost certainly THE best French boogie-fusion jazz-prog jammy blowout you’ve never heard of but have possibly mistaken for a Brazilian percussionist in the past, especially since our man Fogo is a MONSTER drummer. There’s Rhodes galore, sax breaks, big fills, and total 70’s cinema action on top of a virginal jazzy foundation. Sometimes fronting as Chico Loco, and others as Sylvain Krief, Fogo put out just one record, which is bizarre for how good it is. On the other hand, as Krief he also put out only one record, but that record is the deeply mysterious grail Rupture “Israel Suite / Dominante En Bleu”, which is sort of mind-blowingly good/weird modal jazz-fusion-funk in the full Serge G/Phillip Catherine mode that commands Brand New Lexus prices, if it can be located at all, which it probably can’t. Rupture also features French cinema/Library wheel Jean-Pierre Mas. In any case, “Airto Fogo” is just a killer spin all the way around, definitely in the Mike Selesia realm of free-form jam genius, the record for you if you dig CCPP, but with a whole extra frosting of creative lunacy. Oh YEA.
More killer Italian cinema-library blowout rare groove action from the maestro Trovajoli. It of course varies in style, but swings from HUGE brass arrangement big band heavy punch drama to Clint in a poncho doing his cheroot Spaghetti gunfighter thing, then to mod hipster vocal arrangements usually accompanying racy silhouettes of naked women in various colors superimposed over James Bond, then some whistling solos that sound a lot like my grandfather, who could whistle like Charlie Parker, and also build houses by hand with the plans scribbled on a piece of paper, fly planes, fix anything mechanical after staring at it for three minutes, and add huge columns of multi-digit numbers in his head. No joke, he also got a scholarship to play football for Alabama, but some guy apparently insulted my grandmother in a way that probably was just a mistake and my grandfather beat him so badly he was arrested, his scholarship canceled, and the judge told him he could do prison time or join the army. So, he flew B-19s for the Air Force. Anyhow, my grandfather was also pretty deeply racist, sexist, and virulently homophobic, went to church 2-3 times a week, believed unthinkingly in someone else’s god, and had a split-atom temper. I was terrified of him, but he was also my hero and I loved him deeply. And still do. Turns out the world is a complicated place, and anyone offering convenient answers is lying to you. In any case, my grandmother played a massive church organ and SHE seriously dug movie soundtracks and she would have LOVED this record, and after listening for a minute, busted out all the chords and melodic lines while my grandfather drank beer. Buy this record! Seven Men Of Gold! And not just because Trovajoli was once married to the super-sexy actress Pier Angeli.
Someone posted this recently and so had to dig it out. One of my favorite things about this (almost entirely) positive and educational IG vinyl community experience is that it makes me feel multi-lingual. Like, I know I am talking a language that a relatively smallish group of people dig enough to get fluent in, and it’s both a relief and a sort of celebration not to have to explain WHY while amongst fellow musical immigrants. In my non-pixel life I often am called upon to deconstruct not only a (mild) obsession with vinyl, but aging hi-fi equipment, jazz in theory, jazz in practice, an inexplicable preference for, say, one measure of Eric Dolphy as opposed to the entire Eagles catalog, and why Steely Dan is not, in fact, jazz. You get back exactly what you put into this life, which is primarily why more complex, nuanced, and intentional forms of art are more engaging than those displaying rudimentary skills and/or overriding commercial concerns, although in the right mood I dig a spin of “Deacon Blues” or “I Can’t Tell You Why” as much as the next dude. All of which is to say, I am thankful for y’all on Instagram Vinyl. For decades I did this almost entirely on my own, when sharing literally meant exchanging records by hand, and every day I see a title I wasn’t aware of or that needs a fresh spin, and Charles Brackeen is case in point. Who knows how long this has sat in the stacks, and continued to do so, especially since it’s excellent otherwise? Features the mighty Andrew Cyrille, and as you would expect, a fair amount of in-pocket Free Blowing on cornet from Olu (NAS’s dad) Dara, and drums by Fred Hopkins. Oh yea.
The follow-up to last week’s post of the mighty “Soul Revolution Part II”, this record has been released 100 times in 100 guises, including re-packaged cash grabs of every variety, but notably as “African Herbsman” and “Rasta Revolution” on Trojan, although to be fair, there is additional material on each, and owning a little Wailers overlap and cover art is really not the starkest tragedy in the world. As I said posting “Revolution”, this is my very favorite Bob incarnation, the Pre-Worldwide-Icon Marley; younger, more vulnerable, voice not fully developed, more roots than hits. In fact, this record is so fantastic that I would shoot the deputy if he tried to confiscate it. There are just some times that I NEED early Bob in my life, and it’s a stone relief to know exactly where I can get him. I guess there’s an All-Dub version of this record? Not sure who’s behind it and if it’s legit, and right this moment I’m took lazy to poke around, but that seems worth some later investigation. As my re-immersion into the world of The Lions Of Zion after a long break continues, I find I like it more than ever, and am grateful not to have sold the bedrock titles when the rest of it went, as it would break my heart to have to either re-acquire or gaze fondly on them from afar. My Roots/Dub/Rocksteady/Dancehall/Ska stack is small but dangerous. More soon.
If you’re reading this, you likely already know that “Nino And Radiah” is one of the great Euro boogie-soul records of the 1970s, and is an essential collection component for anyone with a pulse, but you may be less clear on the quality of other Ferrer non-Radiah wax. I sort of think of it in the way that John Cale has many really very excellent solo albums, but a surprisingly small subset of Velvet Underground fetishists bother to seek them out. Which is a shame on both fronts, especially since Ferrer was basically the James Bond/Steve McQueen of funky euro dance-boogie, and his records tend to have really top notch musicianship despite the fact that the songs veer a bit into prog-noodle excess and lyrical self-indulgence. But so what? They groove! Nino was a leather pant-and-cravat iconoclast who had a toe in a little bit of everything, feeling marginalized, pigeonholed, and widely mistreated by the music industry despite a string of huge hits. The entire backing band on this record is British, which somehow seems like the perfect choice, in the hands of the French this could quickly have devolved into parody, and they might as well be Archie Whitewater, or the Edgar Broughton band. Yup, this action cooks and is a lot of fun. I put a great deal of stock into records that aspire to nothing else.
1965 Mal Waldron”Les Nuits De La Negritude - Reflections In Modern Jazz” on Powertree Records11/26/2025
Well, the good news is that I seriously love this record. Actually, for the number of records he put out, especially in the EU and Japan, I think Mal may be The King in all of jazz for total amount of releases without a single even mediocre, let alone subpar, title. This one is a particular favorite for its spare, uncompromising sound. It’s not Mal Alone, but I think Mal is alone in his head for the duration, it just conveys a sense of deep rumination and personal expression. George Tucker and Al Drears on bass and drums both do their jobs with aplomb, which is generally to stay out of the way of genius. Another piece of good news is that this badboy is a very clean OG. The bad news is that Powertree Records out of NYC went out of business quickly because they had no clue how to press a record, and that includes releases of actor Lou Gossett Jr. singing hippie East Village nonsense, or the no doubt highly stirring “President Kennedy Speaks In Ireland.” There’s just a heavy, smoky haze over both sides, and although clean, plays with hiss. I’ve never seen a copy in which this wasn’t the case. The good news is that I also have the 1977 Japanese RE, which sounds great, so owning this version is really about Greed & Vanity, which as we all know are the two essential cornerstones of vinyl. If nothing else, this record makes it abundantly clear why Billie Holiday loved Mal so much, he understands melancholy down to his marrow, like oxygen, without ever wallowing in it.
I happened to notice the other night that this FANTASTIC record has just been reissued by some dudes outta N’awlins, and all I have to say to them is, thank you for recognizing genius. Tell you what, I rarely give out hot Super Bowl betting tips or which horses to box the Exacta at Santa Anita with, but if you’re inclined to take some advice in 2025, I highly recommend adding this record to your stack. Hal and Mel are not, in fact, Hal Singer and incorrectly spelled Mal Waldron, they’re Harold Battiste (organ, piano) and Melvin Lastie (flugelhorn, trumpet, cornet, percussion). The duo never really gained national traction, but are early Rock and Roll heroes of the very specific gumbo variety who come together here for a wholly unexpected soul/funk/compositionally avant blowout that sounds like if Julian Priester and Jack McDuff did a two year residency at Professor Longhair’s Free Jazz Symposium. Who else is on the record? Oh, only Mr. Chuck Rainey and Mr. Cornell Dupree. Battiste toured with Sam Cooke and Dr. John, plus was a talent scout for the mighty Specialty Records, while Lastie was his partner in founding the imprint A.F.O. Anyway, this record RULES, and if you don’t need it, you probably don’t need anything, which is a skill all its own.
The last of three bangers from the Black Hebrew collective out of Liberia via Detroit and ultimately Israel. This one is more traditional in nature, still just as spiritual but more soulful and less funky, which in other settings would be a criticism but here is a nice gearshift compared to the other two records. Great instrumentation, lovely harmonies, a real feel for the music of the region as re-interpreted by Lateef’s Detroit. Thomas “Yehudah” Whitfield on git, John “Shevat” Boyd with the vocals, and Charles “Hezekiah” Blackwell on HEAVY bass. As always, heavy on the deep desert Praise N’ Testify, but never forgets the streets. Oh yea.
The second of three great records from the Black Hebrew collective from Liberia via Detroit and finally Israel. This is sort of a comp of different lineups within the group, including the Soul Expressions, the Tonistics, the Angelettes, and Shavat. Super funky, heavy groove, tight instrumentation, spiritual-soulful worship jams with Thomas “Yehudah” Whitfield on git, John “Shevat” Boyd with the vocals, and Charles “Hezekiah” Blackwell on HEAVY bass. Amazingly, this one is pretty much just as good as the grail-ish first, which is fairly unusual in the annals of both vinyl and bands and labels and pressure and marketing and distro, and having to come up with new ideas a year after you released the debut record of all your ideas since you were fourteen. It’s heavy on the deep desert Praise N’ Testify, but never forgets the Detroit streets. Killer action. Oh yea.
Friends, I’m going to roll the dice and say this is a genuinely great record, and may, in fact, be one of the top releases on all of the massive Paddle Wheel catalog. Discogs lists this as Jazz-Funk and Fusion, which is true in a way, but also totally false. It’s Ultra-Creative Avant Groove (UCAG) which is neither funk nor fusion, although it is jazzy, and also jazz, but really is pure Suzuki in origin, conception, and delivery. Plus, it rocks the MIGHTY Shigeharu “Spacing Out” Mukai on trombone, Toshiyuki “Burnin’ Waves” Honda on trumpet, and Shigeo “The Thing” Hirayama on drums. This isn’t a collection of songs, it’s a compendium of IDEAS masquerading as music. Which means it is definitely not Fusion, which, even if done exquisitely, is really one idea. This is a canvas full of paint. I love it. Top Action!
The mighty Janko, who I’m going to go out on a limb and say is THE greatest French Montenegrin Library composer of all time, turns in another killer comp of cinematic snippets, funk gurgles, soul grooves, Third Stream moments, drum breaks, sax wails, and various other heavy organ-led tracks. You of course likely know Nilovic by his alias Abra K. Dabra, or one of his lesser monikers, like Alan Blackwell, E. Orti, Johnny Montevideo, Tonton Roland, or Yako Doussis. This record should not be confused with “Pop’ Impressions”, “Psych Impressions”, “Rythmes Contemporains” (which is really the “Giant” album), or “Super America”, all of which are fantastic in their own right. The dude was on fire for decades. Top action!
Yup, it’s Shades Of Blue. Trevor Tompkins, Rendell, Carr, Colin Purbrook, Dave Green. This record means a lot of different things to a lot of different people.
Picked this up in the wild for a few bills in DC a month or two ago. Cheap Heat action for sure! If you ignore the release date and Yearbook Photo cover art, this baby is the best spanking hard bop you’ll buy for next to nothing all year. I didn’t know anything about the record itself, just that Basso is a killer tenor and is on a lot of stuff I like. I’d never heard of the rest of the quartet, except on guy who MIGHT have played with Rava, and another guy who MIGHT be on a Bargozzi record, but no matter, they all just lay the concrete for Basso to burn, which he does, and without remorse. There is zero frill or frosting on this one. You want uptempo post bop to skin pop without having to think another minute about it, except the degree to which it’s slightly Italian-tinged, which just lends it a little extra curiosity/hot sauce? Well, you got it here. The guy is just a Doric column of bop, carrying the weight of the architecture without complaint. Castle Wax says Oh yeah.
Well, this badboy is SERIOUSLY hip and grooving Library boogie action, and if you’re hip to that neighborhood of things, you’ve probably given Signore Rocchi a spin in the past, although I’d say that among his excellent oeuvre, this might be the best title. Why? Well, it’s full of KILLER bass runs, funky drummers, heavy Rhodes, Third Steam compositional elements, Phillip Catherine-style guitar whanging, lysergic flute, and the usual Italian horror-harpsichord. Plus breaks galore, wah wah snapback, slick horns, and jazzy jazz funk. As per usual, nothing is said about the various musicians, everything laid at the feet of the maestro himself, which is just as well, dude deserves the love. Fonovideo, of course, is the home of Barigozzi Group and all its iterations, so you know the suits in corporate had excellent taste. Now, it should be noted that Erbe Selvatiche is, in fact, Italian for “Wild Herbs”, and I’m going to go out on a limb and guess the Modern Sound is not deriving from cilantro. Either way, Library Groove scores again, and this record rules hard.
I have to admit, I have a very weird relationship with this record. The ’69 RE is probably among the first 20 jazz records I ever ($5, tops) bought. I knew nothing about Harold Land (or jazz, or really anything else back then) but felt an immediate kinship with his tone, style, tempo, and ease. It sent me off on a total neophyte dive into Land, his sidemen, and Contemporary Records, which lead to Kessel, Niehaus, Manne, Counce, Coop, Collette, Previn, Golson, and of course Artie Pep and the whole West Coast thing, but most especially Ornette. Yet the The Fox painting always bothered me, to my eye un-evocative, dark, poorly rendered, and lacking an understanding of basic Color Theory. I think along with Wes Montgomery’s “A Day In The Life” it might be the two most aesthetically off-putting (hello, Herbie Mann) covers in all of jazz. But then I heard the mono version of the OG and cursed under my breath and upgraded. And then I heard the stereo version of the OG and upgraded to that. And, that’s currently where it stands with me and Harold Land over at Castle Wax. In any case, this record BURNS, pure post-bop banging swing with a killer lineup that includes MY MAN Dupree Bolton on trumpet (go down a rabbit hole on his life), the underrated Frank Butler on drums, MY MAN Elmo Hope on piano, and MY MAN Herbie Lewis on bass. I met Herbie Lewis a few times and he was also sweet as pie. PLUS the entire killer action is produced by David “Ax” Axelrod, and if that doesn’t mean anything to you, you might as well get into baseball card collecting. Bottom line? KILLER RECORD. Love it, at this point even the cover. A man can’t have everything he wants, Mick tells me, although Keef insists you can always git what ya need.
(btw, painting is credited to Saul White, who does appear to be a 60’s mod/boho painter of the era of some repute, a lot like DeKooning I would say, but also not. Either way, no proof if it’s the same dude)
Well, friends, there is worship music as a general concept, with every possibly permutation and instrumentation, that has existed as long as we have. Then there is gospel. Then there is Hard Gospel. Then there is Hard Southern Gospel. And THEN there is Hard Southern Soulful Boogie Gospel, and THAT is where I cash my checks. The organ, the bass, the vocal harmonics, the chorus, the choruses, the horn section, and the testifying. What Jesus can be praised for, what he wants from me and you, how he’s going to get it, what you better do to make sure you’re on the right side of history. What your actual theological beliefs are or are not comprised of is irrelevant. Can you feel the passion, the honesty, the genuineness, the conduit to something higher than yourself, even if it’s just an ultra-funky snare hit? For my money, there’s a lot of Hard Gospel slept upon that is WAY better than many hyped funk or soul grails, and “Who Is The Stranger” is a perfect example of a thrift score cauldron of boogie gold. I LOVE this record. Tight, righteous, no nonsense pure Detroit Sunday action led by Rev. T.W. Minox, who has a voice like a Husqvarna cutting through a stand of Michigan pine. Oh lord YEA.
I mean, if you’re a wise record exec in the early 70s, you locate Pharoah, surround him with instruments, surround those instruments with genius sidemen, and roll tape. Done. Pharoah spirituals his way through alto, flute, tenor, fifes, koto, brass bell, Balophone, cow horn, and maracas. Needing a few additional tasks, he writes two of the six songs and also dabbles in a bit of percussion. The MIGHTY Cecil McBee plays bass and is credited with “bird effects”, while Lonnie Liston Smith credited as “LL” pens a few tracks and gets heavy with the Rhodes. Michael “Neuma” White is on violin, Clifford Jarvis on drums and Shango priest Chief Bey on percussion. The album title is Pharoah’s wife’s nickname, Nomathemba, who is South African and that fact alone can be seen as a major influence on the music and can be heard between the beats. There is CAPE in the house, but also adoration and delicate communication. Of course, bird calls are all lovely and meditative, but Mr. Sanders being Mr. Sanders, we also get HEAVY avant blowing as needed. Forget that recommended angioplasty, just spin “Red, Black, and Green” a few times. This record is, in the end, an examination of velocity, momentum, spirituality, poetry, and pure consciousness. TOP SATURDAY ACTION. Also every day action. Also there are no days.
Well, friends, there’s no question this banger goes on my Top 25 All Time Cheap Heat list. Could be wrong, but seems like I still see it around for $30 or so, and in terms of pure jazzy avant-boogie with an almost unfairly great lineup, it’s worth $3,000. Or course you, like me, dig our man Hamp in his own right, and it’s plenty of fun to watch him evolve from mid-50/60’s West Coast Contempo bopper into full-fledged Miles funk street jam groove. Who is actually on this record? Well, Chuck Rainey slinging bass for starters. Is it necessary to even continue typing, or are you already on your chopped Kawasaki splitting lanes to the record store? My man Harold Land shows up to do his Landian Routine, Leon Ndugu Chancler is all over the percussion, Arthur “Home Brew” Adams puts some funk-stink on the guitar, while Oscar Brashear honks trumpet, all of which combines into a slick organ-heavy fusion blowout that is the soundtrack of not going to Vietnam. Hampton at this stage in his career is all chordal nuance and Rhodes progressive tinkling when not in the groove, so it’s a nice back and forth between humility and brash reaction. This record has STYLE. I love it. (Also, don’t blame Hawes if he looks like one of William The Conquerer’s archers just back from the Battle Of Hastings on the cover - his deadpan expression belies the actual tenor of the music).
Well, it’s not Krautrock, more like K-Fusion in a Berlin Herbie sort of way, but is still pretty fun. The congas (Hans Herbst) add a nice side element, and it’s all originals except for the pretty unbearable “Spinning Wheel”. Hey, you know what, Euro Jazz dudes from the seventies? NO ONE wants to hear jazz covers of Blood, Sweat, & Tears. I know this for a variety of reasons, one of which is that I took my mother to a BS&T concert many years ago as she was a big fan, so I am intimately familiar with their schtick. On the whole it wasn’t bad. David Clayton Thomas, the singer, was amusingly gargantuan and had a winking grin thing going on with the blushing housewives in the audience throughout the show, sort of like the Chris Farley version of Tom Jones. Blood’s tunes are pretty lite mayo in a mildly country-bluesy AM radio pop sort of way, but there’s hooks galore and some solid horn arrangements and I really didn’t mind it at all. The great thing about aging bands playing to aging audiences is that they start at 7:01 for a 7pm show, and have the set list of hits + encore nailed and wrapped by 8:20, tops. I had mom in bed by 10. Anyway, what do you want me to say about Catch Up? It’s totally solid and pretty groovy jazzy funk that you can headphones-boogie along with the Rhodes solos to, but lacks the real inspiration of the Headhunter it so aspires to be. Charley Antolini is tight on drums, while Max Greger Jr. handles piano, electric piano, organ, Mellotron, and Moog. I sort of feel like Max would have been better off with less options. Milan Pilar on bass doesn’t really make his presence known in a significant way, but he’s fine keeping time. I guess I’ve tried to cull this one now and again over the years, but ended up keeping it. "Blues For The Kaiser" is definitely the moneycut!
This particular pressing of this particular record is not on Discogs, although it is mentioned in the notes for the Upsetter pressing. Maroon was one of Lee Perry’s labels, and this is the second and last of the two Wailers releases produced by Perry, but Maroon is not listed on Discogs as one of Perry’s labels, although it does mention the other thirteen. Apparently there’s a pink-Xeroxed label version of this Maroon label Maroon that is a later RE, although this one does not have a clear release date, just rumors and innuendo. I’m calling it an OG, mainly because I own it and I’m tired of wading through Jamaican Hieroglyphic record keeping. In any case, there’s nothing to say about the genius in the grooves regardless. You either know it, or you don’t. You either own it, or you don’t. You either want to, or you choose otherwise. Roots/Dancehall/Rocksteady Soul is my particular and very preferred wheelhouse for reggae, and this bad-boy fires on every cylinder and then some. I love the innocent soulfulness of the voice of pre-Bob Bob, the less-confident and more vulnerable Bob, the non-worldwide-icon Bob. Also, these are never songs that bent hippies and scheming frat boys strum acoustic guitar covers of at parties, at poolside, on sailboats, at cafes, in hostels, fireside, or dorm room adjacent, which is a blessing for all. This album rules beyond rule, is the bridge out of Babylon. Oh yea.
Hey, how many times a week do you spin records out of Detroit/Chicago via Liberia that boast ultra-spiritual super funky soul gospel that sing the praises of black Hebrew Israelites and their various biblical journeys including the Exodus/flight from Babylon so prominent from Kingston to Trenchtown? I’m going to guess less than a dozen. Thomas “Yehudah” Whitfield, John “Shevat” Boyd, and Charles “Hezekiah” Blackwell pretty much owned the Monrovia funk scene of the early 70s, but if you’re familiar with the colonial history of Liberia, you know that the Garden Of Eden was not part of the scene, and no doubt inspired them embrace a mix of missionary zeal and soulful testifying, from the secular to the sacred, from the sacred to the profane. Plus, the pure boogie! The dudes all moved to Dimona, Israel where they apparently still live. Numero plundered the first few records for its excellent RE of many of the Soul Messenger side projects, plus this cover, and that bangs as well. Top Action in the Pyramids/Pharoahs/E,W&F + Hard Gospel style.
Two days in a row with bangers from Constantinople! Yeah, I have the Sussex pressing (as essential a soul/funk record as it gets), but had to grab this one too just because the cover is hip as shit, and since I love the wax so much. Back when I lived in D.C. (WAY back), these dudes were a revelation for me, and at the time Chuck Brown was still the King of The Town. I don’t know how many times I saw him play, but basically every night it was either Chuck or Fugazi. I posted and wrote about this record already, and I’m too lazy to scroll back and cut and paste what I already said, but basically I maintain my contention that the drum break in “Ashley’s Roachclip” launched hip hop. Not to mention it’s funky younger cousin Go-Go. So, hip-hop came out of the South Bronx under the stewardship of Sylvia Robinson, AND out of DC with Chuck Brown. Anyhow, this pressing sort of sucks, but who buys a Turkish Soul Searchers for the pressing? Still sounded pretty sweet when I spun it for the hell of it last night, and even the dog boogied by the door, entranced by the beat and massively tight playing. OH YEAH.
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