Showing posts with label 1972. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1972. Show all posts

Sunday, December 30, 2012

My God, my Freedom


Jewel/Paula ad in Billboard,
Aug. 11, 1973, p. 25
In November 1971, Stan Lewis of Jewel-Paula signed Fontella Bass. »She is the daughter of the great gospel singer, Martha Bass. Fontella was the musical accompanist for her mother and traveled extensively through the country playing Gospel music. In 1969 Fontella and her family moved to Paris, and there she recorded several albums with The Art Ensemble of Chicago. One was the soundtrack of the French film "Les Stances à Sophie." Fontella also has had numerous successes on the domestic scene. Now she'll be released on the Paula label« ran the short Billboard notice a few days later (Dec. 04, 1971, p. 14).

Billboard, Sept. 11, 1971, p. 35
At this time, around 1970-71, Fontella's career was indeed at a turning point. For one thing, she had started to work outside the pop and soul circuit, as with the above-mentioned Art Ensemble of Chicago (The soundtrack LP Les Stances à Sophie was recorded and released in France in July 1970, and in the US only in 1971). For another thing, she was picked up by Jewel-Paula in late autumn 1971 and embarked upon another pop-/soul career. However, the resulting album Free (Paula LPS # 2213, rel. 04/1972) was to be her last LP release in the field of secular music. In August 1973, her LP Free was, justly, described as »an instant success«, and Paula- Jewel announced »plenty of tunes still waiting for release« (BB, Aug. 11, 1973, p. 22). Yet these tunes were never released for their major part, and only some of them are found on the CD re-release of the 1972 Paula LP (Varese/Sarabande 2000).
     Fontella's 1972 LP is certainly, as has often been claimed, a lost jewel in the realm of post-1970 soul music (read a review here). It was arranged and produced by Oliver Sain, Fontella's old mentor, producer and musical manager. Lightyears away from the often shallower pre-1970's productions, this LP comprises a wide array of well-arranged songs: love songs, political songs, and gospel, all adorned and made special by Fontella's outstanding performance. That we find a gospel song on her 1972 Paula LP prefigures the turn her later career took, when she focused mainly on gospel. Although she occasionally appeared live to sing R&B stuff, she only released gospel material after 1972 (apart from less than a handful of other songs exclusively on 45''). An incomplete overview over her post-1972 LP/CD releases would include the following:
  • From the Root to the Source (Soul Note LP # 1006, 1980, together with her mother Martha)
  • Everlasting Arms (1991)
  • No Ways Tired (1995, arranged by James Cleveland and nominated for the 1996 Grammy Award of Best Traditional Soul Gospel Album)
  • Speaking In Tongues (1999, together with saxophonist David Murray; read a review by Stan North here)
  • Travellin' (Fontella Bass with The Voices of St. Louis, 2001)
From her 1972 Paula LP comes this gospel gem, written by accomplished guitarist Morris Dollison (his real name being said to be Maurice Dollison; he often used his showbiz name Cash McCall) and entitled »My God, My Freedom, My Home«. Musicians and background singers are not credited, so we have to live with the simple fact that it's Fontella singing. But that just about suffices, doesn't it? Ah, by the way, it could well be Fontella herself playing piano on this recording; in any case she did it on a number of other occasions. (If somebody can corroborate this, please let me know.)
Blessed Sunday all!

Fontella Bass: »My God, My Freedom, My Home« from the Paula LP Free (1972):

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Thursday, March 15, 2012

Encore!


Two days ago Jimmie & Vella made their ap- pearance on this blog and I decided that they won't leave it, for the moment, without an encore. Now, since their '72 LP is a master- piece from beginning to the end, the choice of today's song was a hard one. Eventually I chose the most lyrical, poetical if you like, tune of the album, maybe also the one musically most accomplished. Its title is simply »Rain«, befitt- ing the seeming simplicity of the song. It runs for well over 7 minutes and was therefore never released as single. And, as you will hear, the song doesn't convey a mood normally associated with rain and downpour. On the contrary, I found it very con- sonant with the cloudless sky which today announced the beginning of spring over the town where I live. No more said. Be carried away ... and search out this album to listen to all its sonic jewels!

Jimmie & Vella: »Rain« from the Atlantic LP # SD 8301(1972):

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Tuesday's Twosome # 12


Atlantic LP # SD 8301
Why they never made it completely eludes me: Between 1968 and 1981 they had three LPs out, plus several 45s, and all and everything they did is, in its very entirety, great artwork, starting from their '68 Imperial album and continuing in their following LPs. I am speaking of Jimmie & Vella Cameron, a husband & wife duo active from the late '60s. Often they have been categorized as »folk singers« but they actually transcend all categories by their sheer creativity and incredible musical feel.

In May 1972, their second (self-titled) LP was released, Atlantic # SD 8301. What a formidable effort, unjustly ignored in its time and by an ungrateful posterity! All the songs are originals; styles and moods flow from soft folk to what has been called »folk funk« ... and much more besides. If you have the chance, get this album for yourself, you won't regret it! There are sacred tunes on this LP (»To The Master Of Every King«), protest and freedom songs (»Lord Abide With Me«, »Then I Woke Up«, »Do You Really Know How I Feel«), melancholic love songs (»Just Hasn't Been The Same«, »Rain«) and don't-know-what-to-call-them tunes with a heavy beat like »Chica Boom«. At the Soundboutique blogspot, there is a very considerate and rather enthusiastic review of Jimmie & Vella's work. Let me quote some passages here (and I very much agree with what the author is saying):
Success might have eluded them, but milestones are what they left us on all three of these LP's. They bounced around on a different label for each decade (...). In 1971 Jimmie and Vella expanded and deepened their sound with 'Jimmie And Vella' released on Atlantic Records. They turned away from commercial stresses, explored more folky grooves and wrote about social issues and injustice. In 'Lord Abide With Me' they came with a heavy gospel and revolutionary feel. This 'self-titled' LP is a fine crafting and example of 'hippie soul' or 'folk funk'. At times laid back and delicate and at other times empowering, passionate and furious. Just a well rounded work.
Atlantic LP # SD 8301, gatefold sleeve (inside)
Jimmie & Vella's Atlantic LP features several songs in the 6 or 7-minute range, and each of these is a masterpiece. However, each a bit too long for today's post. So I chose two of the shorter tunes, »Just Hasn't Been The Same« and »Chica Boom«. They perfectly illustrate the range of what you can, musicallywise, expect from this LP. And if you get taken away by listening to Jimmie & Vella, you're not the first! So beautiful ...

Jimmie & Vella: »Just Hasn't Been The Same« / »Chica Boom« from the Atlantic LP # SD 8301 (1972):


For the record: The album was recorded at the Electric Lady Studios, NYC, in August 1971, with the exception of »Chica Boom« (rec. at Island Studios, London, UK); producer: Ralph Moss. The song »Chica Boom« was also released on Atlantic # 45-8277 (to no effect whatever chartwise).

Friday, March 09, 2012

How She Made it Good


Happy birthday, Laura Lee!

Born today in Chicago, Ill., 67 years ago ... No need to present her, I guess!

Gospel singer with the Meditation Singers, then under contract at Chess, she first charted with »Dirty Man« in 1967. Her biggest success came while recording for Hot Wax in 1971-72.
By 1972, she had two albums out for Hot Wax, including Women's Love Rights. In the autumn of '72, Chess sensed that it would be a good idea to cash in on Laura's ever-growing popularity. So they released the Love More Than Pride LP (Chess LP # 50031) in October, which actually contains songs recorded back in 1968. Some few songs on this album were produced and arranged by Gene Barge (from the Chess staff) and recorded in Chicago. Most were produced by Rick Hall and recorded at the Fame Studios, Muscle Shoals, including the two tracks you can hear below. On the back cover of Chess LP # 50031, however, only the Ter Mar Studios of Chicago are explicitly credited.

Thanks so much for all the great songs, Laura! Here are two of my favorites (out of many) ... funky tunes and a Southern groove for a Friday night ... from the Chess LP # 50031 ...

Laura Lee: »It Ain't What You Do« / »It's How You Make It Good« (LP rel. 1972, rec. in 1968):


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P.S. Listen here to Laura Lee talking about her career.

Saturday, February 04, 2012

Nina ... Champale?


Recently there were musings in the blogosphere about the possible connections between acquiring a taste for a certain singer and the gustatory sensation created by high-quality (and, incidentally, high percentage) brewings (read more here). I've been thinking a little bit further along these lines and was hit, while doing so, by the following ad, published in the December 1967 issue of Ebony magazine:


At first, I tried to submit the message of this ad to the ongoing state of my reflec- tions about the subject outlined above ... but I didn't find it helpful after all. While the first note and you know it's Nina is most certainly true (and the first sip and you know it's Champale might be as well, even in the negative and not intended sense!), I can't bring myself to see any connection between Nina and the advertised bever- age except one of complete antagonism: Champale is sort of a beer made to look like wine and tasting like neither of them; to dazzle the customer it is sold in a champagne-like bottle. Nina, on the contrary, is the original songstress of the 20th century, not a mixture of anything, never appearing differently from what she is, and certainly not sold in a deceiving package. I guess she's the very opposite of everything Champale evokes in my mind. (I can add, for the sake of pedantry, that the ad shown above is missing from the Champale advertisement webpage.)

So this thread leads nowhere, really. At least not as long as I don't switch to thinking about which beverage makes for the most unlikely comparison with a singer's art and being. Which maybe, only maybe, could be the winning strategy in the case of Nina, for she can't be compared with anyone or anything! So like in modern theologi- cal reflection about God, which for want of applicable affirmative terms ended up as a negative theology (being only able to say what God is not), we might, in Nina's (less than divine but still out-of-this-world) case appreciate the idea of a wholly negative admiration by affirming what she is not. To conclude this, she certainly isn't anything like Champale.

But of course Nina had her own negative theology! And this is brought out in perfection by Nina's medley of George Harrison's (well, sort of) »My Sweet Lord« and her adaption of David Nelson's poem »Today (Is A Killer)«. The piece fills the entire side 1 of her LP Emer- gency Ward! (RCA # LSP-4757, out in Oct. '72). It was recorded live in concert, the exact locality and date are unknown (at least to me); the choir you hear in the recording is the Bethany Baptist Church Junior Choir of South Jamaica, New York. The entire medley being too long to be played here in full, you can hear an extract of about half its length, basically the centre piece:

Nina Simone: »My Sweet Lord« / »Today Is A Killer« (extract !) from the RCA LP # 4757 (1972):

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Push the Button


Oh well, read the postscript before going any further ...
My car stereo has a curious feature: if a song starts playing (CD or mp3), you can push the main button during the first 20 secs or so. What then happens is that the song will stop and the previous tune (not the tune just started) gets repeated. You may ask what's it good for? Listen to the song below. It's this song that keeps me pushing this button on my car stereo for days now. I am actually waiting for the moment I get annoyed. It hasn't happened so far. BTW, it's Esther Phillips with Eddie Floyd's song »Til My Back Ain't Got No Bone« (first done by William Bell in 1971, I think) - from her first Kudu LP:



POSTSCRIPT, the day after: I wondered whether I had a scotch or two when I wrote the above lines yesterday! Well, I hadn't ... but you wouldn't guess it from my meandering mumblings. I think I just wanted to say that I love that song !!!

Saturday, December 03, 2011

Tragelaphus Strepsiceros Revisited


Together with Nina Simone's Colpix, Phillips and RCA LPs Esther Phillips's series of Kudu LPs is without doubt one of the highlights of 20th cen- tury female jazz & r&b vocals. Formed in summer 1971, the Kudu label was launched by Creed Taylor (of CTI Records); in July, the first LP was releas- ed. Kudu was to be a vehicle for »soul jazz« and Taylor described it as »a black awareness label, more commercial oriented than CTI and indi- genous to the black popular music of the United States.« The name of the label, referring to the African Kudu (tragelaphus strepsiceros), was meant to convey Afro-American consciousness, and so did the colors used for the logo (red, black, green) and the bee-striped (actually kudu-striped!) sleeve. Vic Chirumbolo, sales manager for CTI, said that »[t]he jazz on the Kudu label will capture r&b jazz as well as blues-oriented jazz as opposed to CTI, which features more experimental and universal jazz artists« (Billboard, July 31, 1971, p. 13). In January '72, Esther Phillips's first album was out, From A Whisper To A Scream (Kudu LP # KU-05).

In a June 1972 interview originally published in Living Blues # 17 (1974) and re-issued in The Voice of the Blues (eds. Jim O'Neal & Amy Van Singel, London-New York 2002, pp. 375-87), Esther had the following to say about how she came to Kudu:
I felt I had to get with a smaller company where they had time to concentrate on me. Fortunately, this is what's happening with CTI.
So this company that I record for now, which is Creed Taylor, Incorporated, CTI Records, Kudu, they have a jazz label with Stanley Turrentine, Freddie Hubbard - so they were looking for me out in California and, at this time, I was without a record company again. And we got together, they wanted one album, so I recorded From A Whisper To A Scream and it worked out very well. ... So far, other than Atlantic, who did promotion, this com- pany really gives you a lot of promotion, which I can really appreciate. They're doing a fantastic job. I'm very pleased with them at this point. (p. 382 f.)
In the September 1972 issue of Ebony magazine, her first Kudu LP got an enthusiastic review. After mentioning Esther's heroin addiction (»everything but heaven itself had conspired to do her in«), the critic praises her power of will and sees her as »the logical successor to the great Dinah Washington.« (Others, however, have stressed Esther's closeness in art & life to Billie Holiday which, to my mind, is a more fitting comparison.) He then goes on to review some of the main tracks of the LP (several of which were released on Kudu 45's and reached the Top 40 of the r&b charts in '72). The album's closing track, the 6½-minute monster blues »Scarred Knees«, is described as an »improvisatory "Umph-umph-umph" thing« ... well, if this was to mean that Esther hhmmms, squeaks and even hiccups (listen at 01:33!!) herself through part of the song, he's right. This is the song, the bluesiest tune on the album (never released as a 45) and the one which has Esther experimenting most with her voice; she really draws you in:

Esther Phillips: »Scarrred Knees« from the Kudu LP # KU-05 (1972):


* * *


P.S. Did I mention that Esther Phillip's string of Kudu records started at the same time (in January 1972) as the Westbound / ABC record series of Denise LaSalle?

Saturday, October 15, 2011

What She Is


In the wake of her smash single »Trapped By A Thing Called Love« (released in July 1971 on West- bound # 182, eventually to reach # 1 r&b and # 13 pop), Denise LaSalle had her first Westbound album out by January 1972. (Westbound was a Detroit- based label distributed by Janus.) »Trapped By A Thing Called Love« was not her first single: There was »A Love Reputation« (released on Tarpon # 6603 and Chess # 2005 in 1967, see here and here), then her first Westbound 45, »Hung Up, Strung Out« (Westbound # 162, rel. in May 1970).

Her first Westbound LP (WB 2012) set the tone for most of LaSalle's later career. Recorded in Memphis (see photo below) and arranged by Willie Mitchell and Gene Bo-Legs Miller (yes, it is actually written »Bo-Legs« in the sleeve notes), the album embodies the post-Stax »new« Memphis Soul of the early '70s which is bound up with the names of Ann Peebles, Al Green and many others. Production credits are to Crajon Enterprises, the company LaSalle was running with her husband Bill Jones. What is noteworthy above everything else, however, is that LaSalle wrote most of her material, thus being one of the few female singer-songwriters around in soul music.
     But »soul music«, especially as that term was used in the early '70s, her music was not. So what was it, then? Denise LaSalle spoke at length about that in an interview with David Freeland. This is what she had to say:

[W]hen you go to the Grammys, who they put in a blues category is going to be KoKo Taylor, Etta James, and people I ain't never heard of before. People that never seen a record on a major radio station in their life. And they're in the Grammys. And then they'll put a white girl up that ain't nobody ever heard of but white folk. And KoKo Taylor performs mainly to white audiences. They'll pull these people and put them together and they'll ignore me over here.
     Then they go to the soul music; I'm
ignored there. Then we'll go to the pop music; I'm ignored there. You go to R&B, I'm ignored there.
     So what am I? I'm nowhere. So I say, "Well, okay, so I'm not a blues singer, y'all say." But the R&B people say, "You're a blues singer." And then the blues singers say, "You're not a blues singer, you're R&B." So I'm here in this middle of nowhere. And I say, "OK. I'm a soul-blues singer." I'm a soul-blues singer. Why can't I get someone to see that? And every time I'm interviewed I say, "I am a soul-blues singer." I cannot get people to recognize that terminology. Give me a category. I deserve it.

(Quoted from D. Freeland: Ladies of Soul, Jackson 2001, p. 35 f.)

And that's not all. Talking to Freeland, LaSalle emphasized that country music is what really influenced her, and country has always remained her favorite music. She said as much in a number of other interviews. Lately she put it a bit differently, yet she wouldn't diminish the role of country music: The Blues and Gospel is what really got me. I should say it is my favorite. But to be honest with you, when I write and listen for my own writing mood, it is Country music. I'm sorry. I disappoint a lot of people. Country music has been with me since the beginning of my life. I would lean in that direction (see Monica L. Yasher: »Sitting Down with Denise Lasalle & a Cup Of Coffee«, May 16, 2011).

On her first Westbound album much of that is not yet completely evident. »Trapped By A Thing Called Love«, »Heartbrea- ker Of The Year« and »Catch Me If You Can« are on the pop-side of soul. But there are some tracks which, in hindsight, clearly show the direction LaSalle would be moving towards in the following years: soul-blues, as she wanted to have it. »Good Goody Getter« and »Do Me Right« would qualify, and so do »Now Run And Tell That« and »Keep It Coming«. »Now Run And Tell That« was released in January '72 on Westbound # 201, and »Keep it Coming« had been the B-side of Westbound #182:

Denise LaSalle: »Now Run And Tell That« / »Keep It Coming« from the Westbound LP # WB 2012 (1972):


* * * 
From BILLBOARD, May 22, 1971, page 33.

Thursday, June 09, 2011

They Got It, Don't Forget It


She didn't make it into the All Music Guide to Soul nor into The Blackwell Guide to Soul Recordings. You don't find her listed in the Goldmine Standard Catalog of R&B Records. Mystery a-plenty! Well, not to worry. This is her as she liked herself to be shown on her first album, on the back cover (details):


Her name is what her music makes me: Merry, the family's Clayton.

* * *
Hell of a singer she is alright. From near New Orleans, grown up in a Baptist minister's family. In December 1962, she made her first solo recording (billed as »Marry Clayton«). In 1966 (or maybe in late '65, I couldn't establish that exactly) she joined Ray Charles's female backing group, the Raelettes. Later she said about her experience with Ray Charles:
»To be a 17-year-old, to be going on a national tour, flying in a plane with Ray Charles, ... you couldn't have asked for anything better than that. Your gowns and your clothes had to be perfect, your make-up had to be cool, you had to be cutified. You had to be gorgeous, smell good, it was a privilege to be a Raelette - you had to be a little diva, honey!« (quoted in Mike Evans: Ray Charles: The Birth of Soul, New York - London 2005, p. 225)
Doesn't sound as if she had a bad time. However, when Ray Charles sacked one member of the Raelettes (Gwen Berry), Merry hit the road, too. Together with Odie Coates and two ex-Raelettes, Gwendolyn Berry and Lillian Fort, she formed »The Sisters Love« in 1968, contracted to a Los Angeles-based label. But what she was doing most of the times in the late '60s was recording as a studio backing vocalist with names which (deservedly or not) resounded more with the general public, among them the Rolling Stones (see also here). In around 1970 she appeared on various recordings together with Clydie King (another ex-Raelette) and Venetta Fields (then from the Mirettes and an ex-Ikette). Then, her single »Gimme Shelter« (the Rolling Stones song) was released in May 1970, with an album of the same title following in August 1970 (Ode '70 LP # 77001).

Ode '70 LP # 77001
Her first album was well-received. In a Billboard review from Oct. 17, 1970, we read: »Miss Clayton's dynamic soul-rock styles is the main ingredient in her first solo LP for Ode 70. The album includes her hit reading of the Stones' "Gimme Shelter" and her current single, James Taylor's "Country Road." Other outstanding cuts are the Doors' "Tell All the People," Forget It I Got It," and an unpredict- able "Bridge Over Troubled Water."« The album's title song, »Gimme Shelter«, had been out since around May 1970 (on Ode '70 # 66003), and a second single (»Country Road« / »Forget It I Got It«, Ode # 66007) was released in September. Slowly but surely she made her name and art known during the latter months of 1970, and the February 1971-issue of Ebony was graced with the following notice on page 24:
»Perhaps you've never heard of this 22-year-old singer but she's been supplying soul backgrounds for pop artists since she was 14. Former lead singer with Ray Charles' Raelets, she's backed up folks like B. B. King, The Supremes, Bob Dylan, Bobby Darin and "white soul" singer Joe Cocker on his two albums. Now she's on her own with a husky, intensely emotional sound reminiscent of Mavis Staples and Cissy Houston.«
The comparison with Mavis Staples is fitting indeed (Mavis had released her first solo LP just one year before in summer '69). And I fully agree with the above-quoted Billboard reviewer's opinion that »Forget It I Got It« is among her LP's »outstanding« tunes.

So let's come down to the nitty gritty: »Forget It I Got It« was penned by Gary Wright and Jimmy Miller of the UK-outfit »The Spooky Tooth«. Gary Wright, the organist, was the only U.S.-member of the band, and Jimmy Miller produced them. Their original version of »Forget It I Got It« appeared on their first LP »It's All About«, released in 1968 (on Bell in the U.S.-version). Needless to stress that I think that Merry made a better job with this memorable song than the UK-boys could ever hope to achieve. Merry recorded the song in Hollywood in early 1970, together with the other tunes of her LP. Here it is, ripped from the original LP. Unfortunately it's not an absolutely mint copy and there is some surface noise left ... but what the heck! Surely Merry's voice and the forceful song won't make you notice the smallest scratch ...

Merry Clayton: »Forget It I Got It« from the Ode '70 LP # 77001 (1970):


* * *
But it doesn't stop here, and enter the ... Raelettes, or rather »The Raeletts« as Ray Charles billed them in 1972, presumably for copyright reasons. Some months ago I posted a song from their 1972 Tangerine LP # TRC-1515 (Ray Charles presents The Raeletts: yesterday ... today ... tomorrow). And yes, this LP also contains a version of »Forget It I Got It«, although it appears under a different title: Here we find the song as »Come Get It I Got It«. The change might have been made again for copy- right reasons, I can't tell for sure. And it doesn't matter.

Tangerine LP # 1515 (1972)
To tell you the truth: I am in love with this LP of the Raelettes since I heard it for the first time. I think it's superbly produced and superbly executed ... there is no filler here, only strong songs that kick me right off my feet every time I listen to them. And one of these is, you name it,  »Come Get It I Got It«. Basically, it's pretty different from Merry Clayton's version and its strength comes from the group effort: It's a very impressive piece of close-harmony singing in the pop-gospel mould if there ever was one. This is what vocal group-singing was all about in the early '70s, no doubt about it. Well, judge for yourself, here it is:

The Raeletts: »Come Get It I Got It« from the Tangerine LP # 1515 (1972):

Sunday, May 08, 2011

The Many Uses of a Dark Room


»In The Garden«

Summer has returned. And a Sunday in May is just the right day to present the religious hymn »In The Garden«.

Soul Note LP # 1006 (1980)
Both Mitty Collier and Fontella Bass, among many others, have recorded versions of this song. Mitty Collier's version comes from her LP »The Warning« (1972). Fontella Bass's version is contained on her album »From the Root to the Source« (Soul Note # 1006, 1980, Italian pressing). The songs on Fontella's LP were recorded on 4. & 5. February in the Barigozzi Studios, Milan. Fontella is accompanied by her mother Martha Bass who had been active for decades in the gospel circuit and for a time was a member of the famous Ward Singers.

The hymn »In The Garden« was composed in 1912 by Charles Austin Miles (1868-1946) and belongs since many years to the common repertoire of gospel singers, even if neither composer nor his song made it into Anthony Heilbut's Gospel Sound. However, Cedric J. Hayes's / Robert Laughton's The Gospel Discography 1943-1970 (West Vancouver: Eyeball Productions 2007) lists no less than 25 recordings of this song (up to 1970), and the list does not include the many commercial »Pop-Gospel«-recordings of the song by the likes of Dionne Warwick (1968), Loretta Lynn (1968), Pat Boone (1957), Perry Como (1958) and Elvis Presley (1967)! (Perry Como's version, recorded on June 18, 1958, with the »Ray Charles Singers«, was arranged by Ray Charles himself.)

In a blog entry, the great-granddaughter of C.A. Miles provides the following information: »By the way, for a little bit of irony, the gospel song we are speaking of, In The Garden, was written on a cold, dreary day in a cold, dreary and leaky basement in New Jersey that didn't even have a window in it let alone a view of a garden.« This more or less corresponds to what Miles himself (as quoted in George Washington Sanville's book Forty Gospel Hymn Stories, 1947) said, namely that he had the inspiration for this song in his dark room where he kept, curiously, not only his photo equipment but also his organ.

He then opened his Bible in the dark, opening it in the chapter 20 of John. The story there tells of Jesus, arisen from the tomb, as he speaks to Mary Magdelene on Easter morning. Miles had a vision in which he saw the scene ... and this vision became the song: »Under the inspiration of this vision I wrote as quickly as the words could be formed the poem exactly as it has since appeared. That same evening I wrote the music.« It does not matter much whether visions of that kind enter in your frame of belief or not. The interesting thing is that Miles's is presented as a very »modernistic« version of an enlightening vision – Miles said about his first reaction afterwards: »I awakened in full light« – because it conceptualizes darkness viz. blindness not metaphorically but in the quite real setting of a ... dark room!

Well, here are the two versions of the songs, first that of Fontella Bass, followed by that, some years older, of Mitty Collier. The lyrics below follow Bass's version; Collier treated the traditional lyrics somewhat more freely, changing the text or adding to it.

Fontella Bass (1980) / Mitty Collier (1972), »In The Garden«:

I come to the garden alone
While the dew is still on the roses,
And the voice I hear falling on my ear:
The Son of God discloses

And don't you know He walks with me
And He talks, He talks with me,
And He tells me I am His own
And the joy we share as we tarry there
Oh, none other has ever known

He speaks and the sound, the sound of His voice
Oh, so sweet the birds hush their singing
And the melody that He gave to me within, within my heart
Within my heart is ringing

Don't you know, He walks with me and He talks, He talks with me
And He tells me I am, I am His own
And the joy we share as we, as we tarry there
None other has ever known ... ... ...

Thursday, May 05, 2011

Keep Goin' 'Round

Some weeks ago I posted something concerning the album »Think! (About It)« (People # 5602) by Lyn Collins ... well, I thought today we might just return to it for a second visit.

I'd like to present the two songs »Wheels Of Life« and »Just Won't Do Right«.The first is a midtempo-handclapper, driven forward by the bassline, the brass section, some dark jungleish drum and the piano. A classic r&b song, rather »southern« in feel and »Memphisian« in orchestration, with few signs of James Brown having had his hands in it. But that's just what I like about the song, for a change! ... The second song is a soul-ballad, and towards the end, and possibly in the first part as well, you can hear JB contributing (after all, he played piano on this recording and wrote the song). »Wheels Of Life« was recorded Jan. 26, 1971, at the Rodel Studios in Washington, D.C., »Just Won't Do Right« was put on tape in 1971 (maybe on February 15) at the Bobby Smith Studios in Macon, Georgia. James Brown himself during the 70s recorded several songs in this Macon studio, among them »Talkin' Loud And Sayin' Nothing« (1970).

People LP »Think« (1972), backcover
Interestingly, both songs were the very first recordings which Lyn Collins made on the instigation of JB. They were released as a single, first on King # 6373 (1971), then on People # 45-2503 (1972, with a possible promo-version from the year before). Both songs were included on her first album »Think! (About It)«, and it's these versions which you can hear in the following.


Lyn Collins: »Wheels Of Life« / »Just Won't Do Right« from the People LP # 5602 (1972):



BILLBOARD, Sept. 16, 1972

Sunday, March 27, 2011

The Warning

Calling on Mankind to abandon nuclear energy

III A.M. Records LP # 1022
In 1972 Mitty Collier saw the first gospel-album of her career released. Its cover image is certainly drastic: Mitty indicates a globe that is going up in flames. But it is not real yet, just a warning of things to come. And a warning for our time as well - many among us still need to be warned. Admittedly, Mitty Collier did not, with her posture, intend to put us on the alert of a nuclear catastrophy, even though the image seems to evoke that if we look at it from today's perspective. It is tempting to re-interpret it as a warning to us, still living in the nuclear age. No, Mitty did not think of a nuclear catastrophy. Rather she points at the state of contemporary christendom. That's why her song »The Warning – Get Right, Church!« is critical of and directed against those preachers who do not live up to the high ideals of what they are preaching: hypocrites preaching moral and themselves leading »a wicked life« instead.

Mitty Lene Collier from Birmingham, Alabama, was the seventh of seven children - »the seventh daughter«, which also features in a few blues songs, albeit less prominently than »the seventh son« ... Robert Pruter, the authority on the Chicago music scene, remarked that »she must be counted among the best soul singers of all time.« (Robert Pruter, Chicago Soul, Urbana–Chicago 1991, p. 102). She was one of the many soul singers who embarked on a second career in the 1970s when they turned to gospel music and began, in many cases, to be active in church.

And Rev. Collier was especially active in this regard: in 1983 she had the idea to install the Bible Study Telephone Prayer Line (BSTPL), meant to enable Bible study via telecommunication ... that's how things were in the pre-Facebook era! In 1989 she became a pastor in the Chicago More Like Christ Christian Fellowship in Chicago (today part of the New Zion Christian Fellowship). Mitty Collier was awarded a B.A. »in Evangelism« and a honorary Ph.D. in theology (Honorary Doctor of Divinity Degree). And nowadays pastor Mitty Collier is also present on FB ...

Mitty Collier came first to Chicago in the summer of '59 to visit her brother who was living there at the time. In Chicago she met her old French teacher from Birmingham who took care of her - not by giving her further lessons in French, but by inscribing her at several local talent contests! In one of these shows, Al Benson's »Talent Show« in the venerable Regal Theater, Mitty made the first place for 6 weeks in a row (that's how she remembers it, see Pruter, Chicago Soul, p. 103). What then hap- pened is history: Chess Records soon had her name in the notebook and eventually gave her a contract in 1960. Her first single saw the light of the day in 1961, and she remained with Chess until 1968. She had her first hit with »Part Time Love« in summer 1963 (r&b # 20), and according to the Billboard charts her biggest success came with »Sharing You« in 1966 (r&b # 10). However, her best-known tune of the 1960s remains »I Had A Talk With My Man« (1964) which hit # 03 on the Cashbox r&b charts. Much sought after until today is her 1965 Chess-album »Shades Of A Genius«. Her last recordings for Chess were made in the Fame-Studios in Muscle Shoals, Alabama, a place that saw the likes of Etta James and Aretha Franklin coming and going in those days. After her contract with Chess had ended, Mitty recorded some songs for William Bell's Peachtree Label in Atlanta (1969–70), yet without having the same success as before.

When she was still singing »secular« soul you could note a subtle but persistent undercurrent of gospel. Suffice it to say that the best-known song »I Had A Talk With My Man« was adapted from »I Had A Talk With God (Last Night)« by James Cleveland.  But her return to gospel in 1972 was caused by a very personal experience. In October 1971, her voice started to fail and she faced the danger of losing it completely. The sleeve notes by Evelyn Spotser tell us what happened then: »During this time prayer and faith in the Lord were the keys to the return of this fine, glorious voice that you will now hear. Although she attended a physician, it is quite clear to her that it was the Lord who gave her back the power to sing again.« This experience and Mitty's recovery led to her conversion as a reborn Christian, and ultimately to her first gospel-LP of 1972: »The Warning« (III A.M. Record Company # 1022). The majority of songs on this album were written by Mitty together with arrangeur und pianist Charles Pike, they are therefore Collier-originals. The album was recorded in 1972 at the Universal Studio in Chicago.

You can hear two songs from this album in the following: »You Cannot Serve Two Masters« and »I Can See Clearly Right Now«. The first song, »You Cannot Serve Two Masters«, is a gospel-blues-ballad, referring to a passage in Matthew (6:24): »No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon«. As in other songs Mitty here expresses her scorn at those »so-called Christians« who are unwilling to chose between God and Mammon. The songs says, »just like the rooster sitting on the fence, you find so-called Christians living just like this: with their heads on one side, and their tails on the other«. The second song, »I Can See Clearly Right Now«, is still deeper in the gospel-blues-mould, actually a rare and beautiful example of its kind. As to its message we have here a typical »conversion song« in which the rebirth in faith is likened to a recovery from blindness: »Touch me, Lord, open my eyes so I can see!« Certainly, you don't have to be a Christian to admit that too many are still struck with blindness in our days!

Mitty Collier:
»You Cannot Serve Two Masters« / »I Can See Clearly Right Now« from the LP »The Warning« (1972):

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Tina Drinks Coffee


»Black Coffee« (1972)


On the cover of United Artists LP # UAS-5598 »Feel Good« we read »Ike & Tina«. Actually, this is beside the truth. This album is, in fact, only »Tina«. Ike is quoted as producer and engineer, and the songs were recorded in »his« Bolic Sound Studio in Inglewood, Calif. in March 1972. But all songs are credited to Tina, except one Lennon-McCartney-title. On the entire album, Tina does not perform a single tune by Ike. So it seems that this was the first effort of Tina's to get away from Ike, musically for the time being. In other respects she couldn't get away from him: Black Coffee is her name. At the same time, in 1972, Ike more and more lost himself to his cocaine addiction and got his kicks, bodilywise, with white hippie girls. Tina knew it, of course, the girls often went in and out of her home. And there were quite a few persons at the time who actually viewed the self-destruction of the egomaniacal brute Ike and his escapades as a hip, never-ending party.

At first, Tina was enthusiastic about the new Bolic Studio that Ike had installed: »I always really wished that Ike could get what he wanted – a string of hit records. Because when he did, I was going to leave him. ... So when he built that studio, I thought: "Wonderful - I'll be rid of him!"« (Tina Turner with Kurt Loder: I, Tina. My Life Story, New York 1986, p. 166). But, alas, this soon appeared to be an illusion: Ike produced no hits, but went on working frenetically in his studio ... and this was to become a pain in Tina's ass: »Then the phone calls started – three o'clock in the morning: "Tina, Ike wants you." And I'd have to get up and drive down there and sing, or sometimes just bring them food. That's when I started drinking coffee, to stay awake.« (My Life Story, p. 166).

How much of Tina's life is in »Black Coffee«? A whole lot, I think, and not only because she was called to the studio in the middle of the night and pumped herself up with caffeine. »Now I'm independent and nobody's maid« seems at first sight to refer to her life-story, Tina being an Afro-American Cherokee from Tennessee: »I started out as a slave, I got free ...« we hear Tina sing. But in hindsight it is easy to see also a reference to Tina's situation in 1972 in those lines: »Now I'm independent« may therefore as well express her firm intention to get away from Ike, physically and psychologically. Again in hindsight, it proved to be wishful thinking.
But there may be more autobiographical references in this song: »my mind is black«, »a cup of black coffee is what a working man wanna see«? Black Coffee »with not a thing«, no sugar, no milk, black coffee that you can buy for a dime. Is this, after all, Tina herself, who didn't get nothing from Ike and had learned not to expect anything from him? Hadn't Ike bought her for a dime, while she had to come begging for every dollar she liked to spend? In this view, also »America, the land of the free«, as the songs says, might be little more than autobiographical sarcasm ... And what about the »Black Tea« which doesn't compare »with me«? Well yes, black it is, but tea still conjures up the idea of something insipid, pale, black by name but not by appear- ance. Could that refer to the white hippie girls who went after Ike (or the other way round)? And isn't Tina »the real thing«, the »Black Coffee« which is »what a workin' man wanna see«? Speculations. They come to mind somewhat easily. And we have to conclude: For all the rhetorics of liberation and freedom which we find in »Black Coffee« Tina wasn't free of Ike yet.

But the lyrics of this song have, quite apart from the possible autobiographical side, many other sides as well. It speaks of Black Power, of America as the land of milk and honey for all, of sexual energy. Last not least it also gives a cynical comment on the music bizness: »You can get what you want if you got some DoReMi«. Yet again, this might well be a double-sided message having also a personal tint, as Ike was fooling around with several of The Ikettes over the years, much to the chagrin of Tina! Without doubt the song alludes to all this and more besides, presenting itself to various kinds of »lectures«. Admittedly, the song itself, as a piece of music, is in danger to be buried among the significances of its messages. In fact, it is not even »a song« in the classical mode, rather a statement with musical coating. But that's not really the point here:

Tina Turner: »Black Coffee« from the LP »Feel Good« (1972)


Black Coffee is my name
Black Coffee with not a thing
Black Coffee freshly ground, fully packed
Hot Black Coffee is where it's at

Way back on yonder, I don't know when
I was brought over before I was ten
You see my skin is brown but my mind is black
But here Black Coffee is where it's at

Black Tea, black as can be
Black Tea can't compare with me
Black Tea is good as it can be
But a cup of Black Coffee is what a working man wanna see

Here in America, the land of the free
You can get what you want if you got some DoReMi
I started out as a slave
I got free, I got paid

Now I'm independent and nobody's maid
I got me a place, I got me a raise
Come over Black Coffee
And how good it taste

A dime, I say, is all you pay
For a cup of Black Coffee
Here in the States

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

THINK !

In Memory of Lyn Collins (1948–2005)

Today six years ago, on March 15, the news-wires announced the death of Lyn Collins (real name Gloria LaVern Collins). She passed away on March 13, 2005, in Pasadena, aged 56. She had just returned from a tour in Europe, actually the first solo-tour of her entire career.

People LP # 5602 (Cover)
It is often said that the Texas-born singer made her first recording in 1964. However, about the spurious song she is said to have recorded - »Unlucky In Love« - there is next to no reliable information and I haven't come across it yet (but cf. Bob McGrath, The Soul Discography Vol. 1, West Vancouver 2010, p. 332. Other relevant discographies do not list the song at all.) Her actual career started when she was employed as backing vocalist by James Brown, in 1970. Brown got to know her because Lyn was married to a man who promoted the James Brown Revue around Texas. And Brown saw to it that in 1971 her first single hit the market: »Wheels Of Life / Just Won't Do Right« (King # 6373). Together with Vicki Anderson and Marva Whitney she was one of those female singers who were supported by Brown and eventually brought into a recording studio. (Lyn Collins later asked Marva Whitney to sing backing vocals on her 2006 CD »Mama Feelgood«.)

From JET-magazine, February 3, 1972
In 1971, Lyn Collins shared the stage with the »The Soul Twins« (see photo above) on 330 days (!) of the year as backing vocal-trio in the James Brown Stage Show. They had a solo-spot in the show – similar to The Ikettes in the Ike & Turner Revue –, and Sharryn Watts wrote in mid-January 1972 about a concert of the James Brown Stage Show she had attended in San Francisco:
»Third on the show after the J-B's were Lynn [!] Collins and the Soul Twins. The trio, though, practically unknown, is exceptionally good. ... Every song is superb, however it's on their last number ... that they really open up and leave the crowd screaming for more. This is one of the groups Mr. Brown is personally pushing and we should be hearing from them on their first album in the near future.« (quoted in N. George / A. Leeds [eds.]: The James Brown Reader, London 2008, p. 96)
In any case, Lyn Collins was not to remain »practically unknown« for long. She had several singles and two LPs out in 1972, on JB's People label. In addition, she can be heard on several Polydor-recordings of James Brown himself. The first song of her first album of the same title – »Think (About It)« from the People LP # PE-5602 – was to become her biggest hit ever. Her last recordings for People were made in 1975.

The song »Think (About It)« was often qualified »gospel-soul«. I am not sure if that's the right way to put it ... it could be said of the »preaching« intro, maybe, and you can hear Lyn Collins do a similar intro in a number of other songs, earning her the nick-name of »The Female Preacher« and frequently hoarse vocal cords during her performances. But the intro is just a part of the whole song, and the song in itself is pure heavy funk. However, the forceful message of the intro, belted out by Lyn, much reminds of Aretha Franklin's »Respect«, although Lyn's message is still more determined: Men, be warned! The women might just take into their own hands what they can do better by themselves anyway ... So, if there's no gospel here, we certainly get a stern lecture!

Following the intro, the song is as James-Brownish as anything you will ever hear. No surprise, though, because JB produced the LP and can be heard calling out occasionally in the background. And the song is a dead-sure footstomper and a neck twister if ever there was any: »from Collins' throat-ripping vocals to the track's nasty groove to Brown's background interjections, this is a killer« wrote Tim Sendra in the All Music Guide to Soul (San Francisco 2003, p. 155). The song was recorded on April 18, 1972, at the Cavern Studios in Independence, Missouri. Some overdubs were added later in the A&R Studions in New York. HITTIT!

Hey fellas: I'm talking to you, you and you too!
You guys know who I'm talking to?
Those of you who go out and stay out all night and half the next day
And expect us to be home when you get there
And let me tell you something:
The sisters are not going for THAT no more
'Cause we realize two things:
That you aren't doing anything for us we can do better for ourselves
So from now on, we gonna use what we got
To get what we want!
Soooooooo ... you'd better THINK !

Lyn Collins: »Think (About It)« from the People LP »Think« (1972)


JET-magazine, July 27, 1972

What's in an »E«?


»You Must Be Doing Alright« (1972)

This song is the opener on the second (and, tragically, last) album of the »Raelettes / Raeletts« from 1972: Tangerine LP # TRC-1515 (Ray Charles presents The Raeletts: yesterday ... today ... tomorrow). The album was recorded at the Tangerine/APM Studios in Los Angeles.

Tangerine LP # TRC-1515
The Raelettes were, as is known to everybody but the most unaffected by the charms of r&b music, the female backing choir of Ray Charles. Over the many years of their existence (from 1955 into the 1980s) they counted many different singers among their members. The group started their career as »The Cookies«. Towards the end of November 1955 and after the success of his most recent Atlantic single »Greenbacks / Blackjack«, Ray Charles set foot into New York's Atlantic Studio for a new session. When he suggested a female backing for some songs, Jesse Stones brought the local Cookies into the studio (see Mike Evans, Ray Charles: The Birth of Soul, New York 2005, p. 78). At that time the Cookies were a trio; they had formed in Brooklyn and could even boast an Atlantic single with their name on it.

In autumn 1958 Ray Charles, who was never reluctant when it came to marketing, personalized »his« Cookies and had them called »The Raelettes« henceforward (also spelled »The Raylettes« at first). At this point, not all of the original Cookies members were left in the group. Moreover, being a »Raylette« meant, beyond the singing, getting into Ray's range on a more intimate basis, and soon the joke was born: »To be a Raylette you have to let Ray« (quoted in Evans, cit., p. 101 note).

On the back cover of the 1972 Tangerine-LP the early history of the Cookies / Raelettes is alluded to as follows:
»Yesterday there was a young musician working on the road with his band who heard a group of young ladies whose soulful sounds impressed him. The young musician was Ray Charles, and this trio of female singers became the original Raeletts. Since then, The Raeletts have become an institution in the world of music ...«
Tangerine LP # TRC-1515 (back cover)
The »trio of female singers« to become the Raeletts were, as said above, the Cookies when Ray met them for the first time in November 1955. However, for all we know, Ray neither did »discover« the group, as the text suggests, nor did he hear the group while »working on the road« but they were brought to him into the studio. And none of this former group can be heard on the 1972 album! On the contrary, the five singers to feature on the LP are not even presented by name, although they are pictured on the front and back cover. Instead they are collectively called »The Raeletts of Today«. The group at this point consisted of Mable John, Susaye Green, Vernita Moss, Estella Yarborough and Dorothy Berry. Mable John was the most prominent among them, having had a solo career with Tamla-Motown (»Actions Speak Louder Than Words«) and Stax (»Your Good Thing Is About To End«, r&b # 06). I will return to the complex history of the Raelettes in another post.

Suffice it for the moment to say that the Raelettes appear on the cover of the 1972 LP as »The Raeletts«. On other records of the epoch and in contemporary ads we also find »The Raelettes« or »The Raelets«, not to mention the earlier spelling »The Raylettes«. The different spellings have confounded many and are a nuisance for everyone researching their history. What is more, on the actual disc-label the group is billed as »Raelettes«, whereas on the front and back cover of the Tangerine LP they appear as »Raeletts«. What's in an »e«? Well, I presume some rights issue. We find a hint on the back cover of the LP where we read: »The name The Raeletts is an exclusive property of Ray Charles Enterprises, Inc.« So, probably, »The Raelettes« wasn't. But this is just guesswork. I'm not enough of a legal expert to judge the importance of leaving out an »e« when it comes to »exclusive« property.

Enough of that! Here is the song, penned by Tangerine housewriter Dee Ervin. It kicks off with a playful dialogue between Ray (on piano) and Mable (singing lead). It's a cool and groovy tune, no doubt about it. Superb harmony singing all the way. Few could ever do it like the Raelettes could. The song tells of a woman, actually has this woman speaking out, who with much tongue-in-cheek irony confronts her man: You don't care for me any longer and stay with other women ... so you must be doin' alright? ... You don't remember me, ain't even called me in quite a few days! ... You must be, you must be ... doin' okay?

The Raelettes feat. Ray Charles: »You Must Be Doing Alright« from the Tangerine LP 1515 (1972)