Merry Clayton - Gimme Shelter

Miss Merry Clayton

The lot of the background singer is a sad one, at least in respect to fame and fortune. They add incalculable flavor to countless albums and mask the technical deficiencies of those for whom they work (especially these days). How often do you see some young pop tart on TV, dropping his/her latest single before you like so much steaming crap, and whenever the notes get especially difficult to reach, or the vibrato required is far more than the “star” can muster, the background singers – every one the technical superior of their employer – drop in to sweeten things up for the folks at home. This is not to say that occasionally one of these singers doesn’t get their own minute in the spotlight. Numerous Raelettes, Ikettes, etc had their own solo shots at stardom, and it pays to remember that the late lamented Luther Vandross came to prominence as a background singer for David Bowie. Back in the day (late-60’s, that is) there were a few singers that seemed to have the market cornered for backup singing on rock’n’roll albums. The names that come to mind first are Clydie King (a Raelette, who recorded some great solo 45s for Minit and an LP for Lizard), Venetta Fields (an Ikette), Claudia Lennear (another Ikette) and today’s featured artist, the mighty Merry Clayton (also a Raelette). These names appear on scores of albums recorded in the 60’s and 70’s (often the same albums), where they added a serious helping of soul to the rock’n’roll stew. Clayton, who was born in New Orleans in 1948, had moved to west coast where she recorded a number of 45s for Capitol in the mid-60’s. The first time I remember seeing Merry Clayton’s name was when my Dad brought home Leon Russell’s first album (passed on to him by one of my older, long-haired cousins). Clayton and Clydie King (joined by lesser lights like Mick Jagger, Joe Cocker and Bonnie Bramlett...) added vocal flavor to this classic LP as well as a number of records by artists in Russell’s orbit, including Delaney and Bonnie and Joe Cocker. Clayton also appeared as part of the soulful chorus backing Neil Young on ‘The Old Laughing Lady’ from his first solo LP. The other big name with whom Clayton recorded was the Rolling Stones. It was was with the Stones, on the ‘Let It Bleed’ LP that Clayton would add her voice to one of the bands greatest records, ‘Gimme Shelter’. If you’ve ever heard the record (and I’m assuming that that would be true for anyone over the age of 10), the wailing, gospel-styled vocals that provide a counterpoint to Mick Jagger in the chorus leave a lasting impression (without which the record would have lost a considerable amount of power). That vocalist was Merry Clayton. The following year Clayton was signed to Lou Adler’s Ode records, and would record the first of three LPs for the label. That LP, ‘Gimme Shelter’ included a number of covers including tunes by the Doors (for whom Clayton’s husband – West Coast hard bop legend - Curtis Amy had provided the sax solo on ‘Touch Me’), Simon and Garfunkel, and Van Morrison. The highlight of the LP, and it’s first (maybe only) single was a reprise of ‘Gimme Shelter’. There are those, I’m sure, that would consider any remake of the Stones classic to be at best a waste of time, and at worst out and out heresy. I’m here to disagree. Certainly any remake of such an iconic tune is going to be haunted by the memory of the original – especially when one of the signature voices is present on both. However, the Clayton version, produced by Adler and arranged by Gene Page, cleans up the sound a little, and the replacement of Jaggers vocal with Claytons powerful sound can only be seen as a major improvement (I’d go as far as to say that upwards of 80% of the lyrics are now decipherable...). Taken as a whole, Clayton’s version has a funky edge with some great wah-wah guitar, backup vocals (go figure) and horns. Whereas the Stones original has a monolithic, apocalyptic edge to it, Clayton’s version remakes it as a straight-ahead (albeit funky) rock’n’roll song. I’d almost go as far as to say that I prefer her version, but I’m sure that’s the result of my having heard the Stones version literally hundreds of times since I started listening to the radio in earnest more than 30 years ago (familiarity breeding contempt and all that...). An interesting counterpoint to this is Thelma Houston’s, Jimmy Webb-arranged version of ‘Jumping Jack Flash’ from the previous year, which I will most definitely blog in the coming weeks. Merry Clayton's version of 'Gimme Shelter' has been reissued on "Gimme Shelter -- A Kaleidoscopic Collision " which is available over at Dusty Groove.

Young-Holt Unlimited - Superfly

Young-Holt looking Super Fly

The only artist I’ve hit more than once in the short but illustrious history of this blog is the mighty Eddie Bo. I figured, “ I haven’t even done 100 posts yet, and God knows I have more than enough artists in the crates to avoid duplication for a while..”. But then, while digging through those self-same crates last week I pulled this gem out, and thusly Young-Holt Unlimited becomes the second repeat artist in the annals of the Funky16Corners blog (whoopee!). Anyway, I figured this’d work because it’s from a decidedly later incarnation of the group, in which Isaac “Redd” Holt (drums) and Eldee Young (bass) were joined by Ken Chaney on piano. I covered some of the basic history here. Today’s selection, a cover of Curtis Mayfield’s ‘Superfly’ appeared on the 1973 LP “Young-Holt Unlimited Play Superfly’ (see super “fly” cover above). The concept of said LP was Young-Holt dropping a whole sides-worth of covers from the ‘Superfly’ soundtrack, with the other side of the LP composed of other covers (and a few originals). I know there are folks out there that would file the Young-Holt catalogue with countless other similar groups - i.e. bands that were ostensibly “soul jazz” but made their bread and butter covering pop hits – and feel that records like this, while enjoyable are ultimately disposable. I say au contraire mon frere! While lots of uninspired soul-jazz was cranked out by poseurs or (even worse) great musicians trying to cash in, the Young-Holt organization (in it’s various configurations) had a real flair. They were always solid players, and they brought both an authentic jazz vibe to their recordings as well as an equally authentic soul/funk vibe. The concept of doing instrumental covers of the best tunes from Mayfield’s legendary soundtrack is an interesting one, with the Young-Holt group taking on mainly vocal numbers like the title track, ‘Pusherman’ and ‘Freddie’s Dead’ (all done well). This version of ‘Superfly’ cranks up the energy considerably (trying to duplicate that patented Curtis laid-back cool would have been foolish), with Chaney’s electric piano featured prominently (I’ll assume he’s playing the synthesizer as well), and some very cool guitar playing (not sure who it is). The overall vibe reminds me somewhat of early 70’s sides by the Crusaders (listen to ‘Put It Where You Want It’ from 1971’s ‘Crusaders 1’ LP, especially Joe Sample’s piano) in that it was funky, but not overly polished (which is a good thing). The feeling is that the 60’s aren’t long gone, the 70’s are definitely in the house, but things haven’t gotten out of hand yet (if that makes any sense at all). For a Chi-town record, ‘Young-Holt Unlimited Plays Superfly’ has a decidedly West Coast feel. Producer/engineer Paul Serrano was a journeyman Chicago jazz trumpeter who had a second career producing/engineering sessions for locals like Ramsey Lewis, Richard Evans, Terry Callier and Eugene Record. He’s also credited with designing the cover of this LP.

This LP has been reissued. Dusty Groove usually carries it, but appears to be out of stock (you can sign up to be notified when it comes back in).

Brother Jack McDuff - Hunk O'Funk

Brother Jack McDuff

Nobody (but NOBODY) represents the “Hammond Groove’ era better than the mighty Brother Jack McDuff. The man laid down his first album (under his own name) in 1960, and recorded all the way up to his passing in 2001. McDuff covered all the bases, capable of playing the greasiest, down-home tavern style R&B movers as well as soul jazz and funk, always making his mark. McDuff recorded for Prestige through the mid 60’s, laying down classic 45s like ‘Hot Barbecue’, ‘Grease Monkey’ and his outstanding cover of the Marvellettes ‘Too Many Fish In The Sea’ from his 1966 ‘Walk On By’ LP. In 1966 he moved to Atlantic records, where he would record four albums over the next two years. Though I find his Atlantic work to be hit and miss, when it hit, it hit hard. His 1966 LP “Tobacco Road” includes the essential ‘I Can’t Be Satisfied’ (also available as a two-part 45). In 1968 he entered a period where he would record for both Cadet and Blue Note through 1970. This is for me – by a longshot – his most interesting and productive period. The sounds started to get funky, and on his adventurous 1969 ‘Moon Rappin’ LP on Blue Note, decidedly far out. The really interesting thing for me with McDuff is the fact that unlike many of his contemporaries, he had a genuine feel for funk, and his recordings showed that he something to say beyond the confines of the one or two funky 45s or album tracks offered by so many others. His Cadet/Blue Note period is marked by some serious growth as an artist, resulting in some of his best work. The lps in the ’68-’70 period are dominated by strong original material, solid (and interesting) arrangements and some of McDuff’s best Hammond work. The 1970 Blue Note LP ‘To Seek A New Home’ was arranged by J.J. Jackson and featured a large ensemble that included members of Jackson’s ‘Greatest Little Soul Band’, including bassist Larry Steele and keyboardist Chris Parren. Today’s selection – the albums hottest cut – ‘Hunk O'Funk’ is not only one of the funkiest Hammond 45s in my crates but one of the best numbers McDuff ever laid down. The cut opens with an incredibly tasty drum break (recorded as if they had anticipated the era of sampling – it was later sampled by Black Sheep and Fatboy Slim among others), with the horns and rhythm section dropping in for a verse. There’s a short break, followed by a seriously funky flute solo (there are three flute players credited, so I can’t say for sure who’s playing) featuring some great Rahsaan Roland Kirk style overblowing. By the time the organ comes in Brother Jack is ready and raring to go. The entire time he’s soloing (and through much of the rest of the record) Parren can be heard comping on what sounds like a clavinet, and the contrast between the keyboards works really well. Interestingly enough, the album was recorded in the UK. Sadly, Blue Note has not yet chosen to reissue ‘To Seek a New Home’. ‘Hunk O’Funk’ is available on the ‘Blue Funk’ and ‘Blue Note Rare Grooves’ compilations. The 45 will be a lot harder to track down...

Jerry Blavat & The Yon Teenagers - The Discophonic Walk

"The Geator with the Heater"

Jerry Blavat

I’m sure that I’ve gone on in this space before about what an amazing musical city Philadelphia is. Even if you only take in the R&B/soul records made in the 60’s and 70’s, Philly stands head and shoulders above almost any regional scene (Detroit excepted). One of the things that helped to make it great was the local radio stations and air personalities. One of the greatest from that era (and he’s still around today) was the Geator with the Heater, Mr. Jerry Blavat. When he started on the radio in 1961 (he had previously been a dancer on the original incarnation of American Bandstand), Blavat was a hyperactive kid from Philly with a serious taste for black music. During the 60’s he rose to prominence on the Philly airwaves, working at both WCAM and WHAT (the home of the “Mighty Burner” Sonny Hopson). From 1965 to 1970 he hosted the ‘Discophonic Scene’ TV show on WCAU and WFIL, which was also nationally syndicated. At one point he appeared as himself on an episode of ‘The Monkees’. Blavat was no ordinary Top 40 dj. His playlists were filled with grittier sounds, especially soul and R&B and it was all served up with his mile-a-minute, motor-mouth jive talk delivery. The 1988 film ‘The In Crowd’ featured a character named “Perry Parker” who was clearly based on Blavat (who apparently sued – and settled out of court – over the uncanny resemblance). The soundtrack to that film (never released) was a window into the kind of sounds Blavat was spinning in the mid-60’s, including cuts like ‘I Do’ by the Marvellows, ‘Mine Exclusively’ by the Olympics and ‘The Real Thing’ by Tina Britt. The real-life Blavat – like many other DJs in the 60’s – compiled and released party records, which is where today’s selection comes in. Strangely enough I picked this album up at a garage sale two doors down the block (Thanks neighbor!). I’m always interested in Philly stuff, so I grabbed the LP when I saw Blavat’s name on the cover, but it was another story entirely when I opened up the gatefold. I’ve seen a bunch of these dance party records, but never one as good as this. This was a record compiled by (and intended for) people that knew their music, including cuts by the Olympics (the aforementioned ‘Mine Exclusively’), C.O.D.’s, Four Shells (?!?), Jackie Lee and Warren Lee (can I get another ?!?) among others. To make things even cooler the inner sleeve listed the tunes next to the appropriate dance for each number (I wish I could see what some of those dances looked like). Included on one side of the LP was Blavat’s theme (from 1966) ‘The Discophonic Walk’. The tune is credited to ‘Jerry Blavat and the Yon Teenagers’ (that was how he referred to the kids). The tune, a hard hitting dancer which features the singing of the Geator - Blavat has said that he was backed by Cameo-Parkway session musicians, including drummer Bobby Gregg – and hand clapping from the assembled masses. The tune accurately reflects Blavat’s infectious energy. I’ve seen a reference on the internet that suggests that this record (which was also released as a 45 on the Favor and Cameo/Parkway labels) was done for the benefit of a local high school and recorded in the school gym, with the students providing the background noise. Blavat apparently performed the song on American Bandstand at some point. Jerry Blavat is still around today, broadcasting on a couple of different South Jersey stations (WVLT, WWZK and WPEN) as well as hosting popular record hops/dance parties and hosting at his Margate, NJ night club Memories. He also shows up on some of those PBS pledge week oldies concerts. Below is a quote I found on the web from a 1966 article in Record Beat magazine: “That's a show, baby, and that's what we do: we wail for you; and it may be silly, but it's only in Philly; but -- no sad song, it won't be long until we make our bow from Maine to Cal. And you too can do the Boogaloo. "What's the Boogaloo?" Well, you might ask me what the Philly Dog is or the Rain Dance or the national talk, the Discophonic Walk! They're dances, babe-ophonic baby, and they're all created by yon teenagers. No choreography, nobody's idea of what they THINK teenagers might dance like -- this is it! A soulful group of Philly kids-- not hand-picked, just grabbed off the streets where the dances originate! And they wail up an insane breeze!” – Jerry Blavat

Harvey Averne Band - Stand

Harvey Averne

I’ve been a big fan of Latin music for a long time. There something hypnotic about the intersecting sounds of all those different drums that are just good for the soul. As a teenage drummer, bashing away on congas, contemplating buying timbales (but never taking the plunge), I had to make due playing along with records. My first exposure to “Latin” sounds, were pretty typical for a kid in the 70’s, i.e. via Santana records. I heard some Latin jazz (mainly via my Dad’s George Shearing records, which featured Armando Peraza, who I would see backing Santana in ’79), and later on digging on Mongo Santamaria and Cal Tjader (among others). It wasn’t until I was in my 30’s that I was introduced to the sounds of boogaloo and Latin soul. The crossover sounds from the mid-to-late 60’s, where Latin bands started to mix in soul and funk sounds made for some of the most exciting records of the era. Many of these records were made by established Latin recording stars like Ricardo Ray (who’s version of ‘Nitty Gritty’ is a killer), Ray Barretto (who’s ‘Acid’ and ‘Hard Hands’ lps are classics of the genre) , Joe Cuba (‘Bang Bang’, ‘El Pito’), Mongo, Willie Bobo and Larry Harlow, who started to work a soul and rock sound in with their clave. One of the folks who got into creating these fusions with a passion was Harvey Averne. Averne (like Larry Harlow, a New York born Jewish cat* with no Latin blood to speak of) started out working under the stage name Arvito, with his own Latin dance band. Originally an accordionist, Averne was taught by Harlow to play the vibes. Working with arranger Marty Sheller (who also worked extensively with Mongo Santamaria) Harlow recorded albums for Atlantic, Fania and Heavy Duty that took the pop/Latin mix to new extremes. Averne’s recordings (under his own name, and with the Harvey Averne Barrio Band and the Harvey Averne Dozen) included a large amount of pop covers (Mamas & Papas, Beatles, Dusty Springfield, Sonny & Cher), and some smoking originals (the Atlantic 45 ‘Micro Mini’ is smoking hot). Today’s selection, ‘Stand’ from the LP ‘Brotherhood’ is not only one of Averne’s best cuts but also my fave Sly & The Family Stone cover. Opening with a drum break, and featuring Averne’s vibes prominently, the tune has a tasty horn chart. They take the tempo up a notch but manage to keep the funky vibe of the original. The arrangement by Sheller has a great rock edge to it, especially during the second half of the 45 where the vibes are up against some fuzz guitar and organ. While the feel may not be as tough as some of the Ray Barretto material from the same era, there’s enough grit to keep the dancers happy and Averne had an authentic feel for the pop and rock music of the day. Unfortunately the ‘Brotherhood’ album doesn’t seem to be in print. There are imports available of the two LPs by the Harvey Averne Dozen (‘Harvey Averne Dozen’ and ‘Viva Soul’) and the ‘Harvey Averne Barrio Band’ LP (check out Dusty Groove). *So beloved was Harlow on the Latin music scene that he was given the nickname ‘El Judio Maravilloso’ (the Marvelous Jew). Another great supporter of Latin music (and also a great NY Jew) was none other than the legendary ‘Symphony Sid’ Torin, who became enamored of Latin jazz in the 60’s and devoted much airtime (and the second half of his radio career) to the sound.

Albert Collins - Cookin' Catfish

The Iceman,

The Master of the Telecaster,

Mr. Albert Collins

Albert Collins was the man. The Iceman that is... Though he was best known for his later “straight” blues recordings for the Alligator label, Collins had behind him a 15 year history of recording some extremely hot R&B/rock/blues fusion 45s. Collins (read more here) had a band that featured his slashing guitar, as well as organ and saxophone. They played the bars of Texas for years, with Collins employing an extra-long guitar cord so he could walk out into the audience (a bit lifted from the late great Guitar Slim). Starting in the mid-50’s Collins recorded a string of great 45s for a variety of labels including, Kangaroo, Hall, Hall-Way, TFC, Tracie, 20th Century and Imperial. Ostensibly a blues artist, Collins’ sounds covered a wider range, incorporating rock’n’roll, soul/R&B and even surf-ish guitar instrumentals. His 1962 recording ‘Frosty’ was a huge hit. The Hall/Hall-Way/TFC 45s, which encompass a period from the early to mid-60’s are all worth grabbing. Tunes like ‘Sno-Cone’ (later covered by the J. Geils Band on their first LP), Defrost, ‘Sippin’ Soda’ and ‘Don’t Lose Your Cool’ (picking up on a theme yet??) sound less like a bar-tested blues journeyman and more like a rock combo with their ear pressed to the charts (and a shit-hot guitarist in their ranks). In fact, listening to a tune like ‘Thaw Out’ makes me wonder if Texas garage punkers like Mouse & The Traps or the Elites weren’t wearing these 45s out on their Close’n’Plays (and it’s not hard to hear the influence Collins had on Texas teens like Johnny Winter and Stevie Ray Vaughn). Collins recorded an LP for Hall (‘The Cool Sound of Albert Collins’ released in 1965) that included many of the 45 sides. Following his tenure with Hall, he recorded 45s for Tracie and 20th Century. The 20th Century 45 is today’s selection, the absolutely deadly ‘Cookin’ Catfish’. First, a slight detour.... In 1968, Bob ‘The Bear’ Hite of Canned Heat convinced Imperial Records to sign Albert Collins. Collins went on to record three excellent LPs for Imperial, all carrying on his tradition of fusing blues/rock and soul (and for the first time recording Collins as a vocalist). I suspect that ‘Cookin’ Catfish’, which dates from 1968 may have been part and parcel of Collins interaction with Hite and Canned Heat. This is suggested to me both by the date, and the fact that ‘Cookin’ Catfish’ reappeared later that year under the name ‘Doing My Thing’ on the ‘Trash Talkin’ LP on Imperial. The tune opens with a horn blast and immediately hits its stride with Collins soloing. Shortly, things drop back just a touch to allow an organ solo (likely Walter McNeil who played with Collins through the 60’s). ‘Cookin’ Catfish’ (which sounds like a not-too-distant cousin of ‘Green Onions’) is a certified soul dancer with a great energy. Following his Imperial recordings, Collins recorded an LP and a few singles for the Tumbleweed label and then dropped out of the game for seven years, working as a carpenter (ain’t that a fuckin’ waste??), until Bruce Iglauer at Alligator signed him up. Collins continued to record until his untimely death from cancer in 1993. Fortunately, the reissues of Collins’ best work aren’t too hard to track down. For the budget conscious, there’s the CD “Truckin’ With Albert Collins’, which was a Tumbleweed-era reissue of ‘The Cool Sound of Albert Collins’. The Imperial LPs are available on a couple of budget reissues, and if you’re lucky you might be able to catch a copy of the EMI ‘Complete Imperial Recordings’. For the hard core among you, Japan’s P-Vine label has reissued Collins earliest recordings for the Kangaroo label (including ‘Collins Shuffle’). If you are – like me – a certified 45 nut, many of Collins Hall-Way era 45s (as well as some of the Imperials) are findable in the $10 to $20 range.

Allen Toussaint - From a Whisper to a Scream

Allen Toussaint

I have to admit that the first time I heard the ‘Toussaint’ LP, I was underwhelmed. Allen Toussaint’s first solo LP since the ‘Wild Sound of New Orleans in 1958’ was a departure from the kind of records he was producing/arranging for others in the same time frame. Recorded in LA (though with a largely Nawlins-centric band that included Dr. John as well as Earl Turbinton of the Gaturs) for the Scepter label, the LP was a decidedly laid back effort. Previous to picking up ‘Toussaint’ my experience with his solo work was limited to the ‘Wild Sounds..’ LP, and a number of 45’s from the mid-to-late 60’s with the Stokes and as a solo performer. He certainly left his mark on dozens of amazing 45s for other artists, as composer, producer and arranger, but never really broke out as a performer. I have to be honest and say that for me it was his work as an “auteur” of sorts that overshadowed his solo work. Ultimately this kind of comparison is unfair because it discounts both the contribution of the vocalists to these records as well as the unique discipline that a composer/producer/arranger brings to the table. In the end, Allen Toussaint’s work as a performer has to be considered separately. That said, given several listens, and making the distinctions I mention above, the ‘Toussaint’ LP has definitely grown on me. First and foremost is the singing voice of the maestro. Toussaint has a reedy tenor with more than a little New Orleans flavor in the delivery that was well suited to the material on ‘Toussaint’ (and vice versa). It seems likely that Toussaint recognized that his voice – while pleasant – was not suited to heavy, overly orchestrated backing. I also can’t help but wonder about the overall sound of the LP. Despite occasional successes, Toussaint saw countless brilliant records flounder on the national charts. The ‘Toussaint’ LP is relatively free of idiosyncratic New Orleans-isms (one of the reasons it didn’t grab me right away), and may very well have been a pragmatic reach for popular acceptance. That’s not to say that it is in any way crass or ordinary, but that it seems to me that when Toussaint was putting it together (and perhaps this was the motivation/benefit behind recording in LA) he had his ear turned away from New Orleans and toward the pop charts. The title track (and today’s selection) was a slice of smooth soul with a wide dynamic range. Opening with a high-hat tick and repeated electric piano chord, Toussaint comes in, followed by the backing vocals (Merry Clayton and Venetta Fields who had done similar duty for Leon Russell among others). There are also small touches that will be missed unless you check this tune out on headphones. Toussaint keeps making a “whoosh” sound into the mike, and at one point says ‘For heavens sake girl, don’t do this to me’ at an almost imperceptible volume. The arrangement is cool (in all senses of the word) and a model of subtlety, with a tasteful horn chart and bits and pieces of brilliant guitar, piano adding accents. Toussaint’s vocals convey the heartbreak of the song perfectly, and at a few points in the song, there’s a bit where the back-up singers are almost taunting him with whispers of ‘You lost her...she’s gone’, making the sadness all the more palpable. In the end, ‘From a Whisper To a Scream’ is truly amazing, opening a new chapter (at least for me) in the Allen Toussaint story. I can’t say that the rest of the LP hits me as hard. There are a couple of less than inspired remakes (‘Working In The Coal Mine’, ‘Everything I Do Gohn Be Funky’), some funky instrumentals (‘Either’, ‘Louie’) and a couple of cool originals (‘What Is Success’, ‘Sweet Touch of Love’). It’s a cool listening experience – especially when taken in context with the rest of his discography – and certainly worth picking up the CD reissue. Interestingly enough, a year after his own recording, Esther Phillips covered both sides of this 45 on her LP ‘From a Whisper to a Scream’ to much success. Phillips was nominated for a Grammy, and when she lost to Aretha Franklin, Franklin reportedly gave her the award, saying that she deserved it. A year after that Robert Palmer recorded another cover of the tune.

Huey "Piano" Smith & The Clowns - Don't You Just Know It

Huey "Piano" Smith

I’m trying to drop something upbeat and fun in my Friday posts, i.e. something that’ll give you a good start on the weekend, and remind you that work ain’t 24/7 (at least not yet). It’s in that spirit that I bring you one of the great party records of all time, ‘Don’t You Just Know It’ by Huey “Piano” Smith and the Clowns. Years ago, when I was still known to imbibe like a condemned man on the loose, the wilds of Central Jersey were haunted by a pack of goons (and I mean that in a good way) known as the Swinging Neckbreakers. These cats had gotten together a seriously powerful garage punk unit (a few years past the sell-by date on the 80’s garage revival, but we won’t hold that against them). The Swinging Neckbreakers took the savage energy of forebears like the almighty Sonics and the alcohol-soaked ethos of a thousand 1960’s frat bands and brought it into the early 90’s. They were formidable on record, but absolutely DEADLY in person. Assuming that the audience had sopped up a fair amount of spirits (a VERY safe assumption to make), and the band was in good form (which they generally were), a raucous good time was guaranteed for all. I remember (sort of....it’s one of those hazy memories that smells like old beer) a night at the Court Tavern in New Brunswick, NJ, around 1993, where the Neckbreakers were ending their set, and I (along with everyone else in the room) was sweaty, staggering, hoisting my stein and singing along. That’s when they did it...Out of their arsenal of true blue, guaranteed to stupefy musical weaponry, they pulled the rustiest sword of all. Projecting a sound that suggested that if the tune had been rehearsed, it had been only casually so, the Swinging Neckbreakers started to play ‘Don’t You Just Know It’. In no time at all, the entire drunken mob was wailing at the top of their lungs.... HA HA HA HA!!! HHEYYYYYYYYYYOOOOO! GOOBA GOOBA GOOBA GOOBA! WAH HA HA HA! WAH HA HA HA! HEYYYYYYYYOOOO!

It was a trancendant experience. For just a moment, if you squinted through the sweat pouring down your face, or stared through the bottom of your glass of beer, you were transported briefly to the basement of some long ago frat house (god knows the downstairs of the Court Tavern looked like someone’s basement...). It was kind of an ultimate party moment, taking full advantage of that feeling you get just before you realize you’ve had too much to drink and are still having fun. Without the work of Huey “Piano’ Smith and his clowns, that moment (and countless others like it) would never have happened. Smith started out playing piano for a numerous New Orleans greats, including Lloyd Price, Smiley Lewis and Little Richard. During the mid-50’s he assembled his band the Clowns and music was never the same again. With Bobby Marchan (among others) at the helm, the Clowns first hit in 1957 with ‘Rocking Pneumonia and the Boogie Woogie Flu’. ‘Don’t You Just Know It’ (backed by ‘High Blood Pressure’) was a two-sided hit in 1958 scaling both the Pop and R&B charts. ‘Don’t You Just Know It’ was an instant classic, and one of the great party records to come out of a town absolutely swimming in them. It has since been covered by many bands, and was a clear favorite of the Pacific Northwest frat rock crowd having been recorded by the Sonics, the Kingsmen and Paul Revere & The Raiders among others. According to Jeff Hannusch’s liner notes for a New Orleans comp, the title of the song was a catch phrase of the Clowns bus driver, none other than a young Rudy Ray Moore, aka Dolemite.

The Show Stoppers - Shake Your Mini

The Show Stoppers

As a fan of Philly soul, the Show Stoppers records have always been a fave of mine. The first time I ever heard one of their songs, it was as a teenager, listening to the J. Geils Band cover ‘Ain’t Nothing But A House Party’ back in the 70’s. Years later, when I finally discovered that the tune had originally been recorded by a group called the Show Stoppers (and found the 45) I realized that the J. Geils version couldn’t hold a candle to the original. Formed in the mid-60’s at Germantown High School in Philly, the Show Stoppers were Timmy and Earl Smith, and Alec and Laddie Burke (brothers of the mighty Solomon Burke). They recorded ‘House Party’ (which had been written by Del Sharh aka ‘Carl Fisher’ of the Vibrations who wrote ‘Storm Warning’ and ‘It’s Against the Laws of Love’ for the Volcanos) for the local Philly label Showtime, and it was subsequently picked up for national distribution by the Heritage label. The record didn’t do much in the US, but became a Top 20 hit in the UK, where the group would tour to some success. They recorded two 45s for Heritage (their second ‘How Easy Your Heart Forgets Me’ is a lost classic) and one more for Showtime, ‘Shake Your Mini’ (also written by Sharh). This is where the story gets interesting... The US release of ‘Shake Your Mini’ (on Showtime) was backed with a Hammond instrumental version of the tune by Ronnie Dee (pretty cool too...). The backing track to ‘Shake Your Mini’ also appeared on the Showtime label as the instrumental ‘Funky Donkey’ by the Illusions (with ‘Shake Your Mini’ by “the Illusions” on the flip)*. In the UK, ‘Shake Your Mini’ (and the groups other 45s) was released on the Beacon label with UK-only b-side ‘Heartbreaker’ (a cool Northern style track). ‘Shake Your Mini’ is by far the funkiest track the Show Stoppers ever laid down. A shout out to the sisters in the crowd to move it on the dance floor, there are mentions of the Boogaloo, the Broadway, and the Shingaling. The beat is heavy, and the horn chart is all over the place, with the saxophones dropping in with flourishes here and there. The Show Stoppers continued to tour (and record, perhaps as late as 1971) in the UK. I’ve seen mention of at least one other 45 by the group on Beacon (‘Reach In The Goody Bag’ b/w ‘Do You Need My Love’), and a 45 (also on Beacon) by their guitarist John Fitch called ‘Stoned Out Of It’ (which appeared on one of the Rubble comps). The Show Stoppers tracks are available on a number of comps, and the Heritage 45s aren’t too hard to track down at bargain prices. The Showtime 45s are a little harder to come by (especially ‘Shake Your Mini’), and the Beacon stuff harder yet. * My copy of the Illusions ‘Funky Donkey’ is on one of the ‘Sound of Funk’ comps. I haven’t heard their version of ‘Shake Your Mini’ but I’d be willing to bet it’s the same track as the Show Stoppers (vocals and all).

The Performers - I Can't Stop You

"Listen - I Can't Stop You MP3"

Today’s selection is unique in the annals of the Funky16Corners blog, in that I confess to knowing almost nothing about the artist. Despite that fact, I cannot deny that the record is a banger, from a label chock full of similar sides, so I figured, “what the hey...”. Mirwood records was a Los Angeles based soul/R&B label (along with sister label Mira, which featured jazz, pop and rock sides. Founded in 1963 by Randy Wood – who had been the West Coast sales manager for VeeJay records – Mirwood had it’s first hit with Jackie Lee’s ‘The Duck’. Much of the label’s success (aside from the artists talent) can be attributed to the work of Fred Smith and James Carmichael. Smith and Carmichael would produce and arrange much of the Mirwood catalog as well as records on other LA labels like Arvee, Keyman and Tri-Disc, and guiding the career of the Soul Runners/Watts 103rd St Rhythm Band crew. Aside from Jackie Lee (actually Earl Nelson, who with Bob Relf was responsible for almost a third of the labels released recording together as Bob & Earl, and separately as Earl Cosby and Bobby Garrett), the label also featured later sides by the Olympics, Mirettes (former Ikettes), and the Performers among others. The Mirwood “sound” made for some of the best soul dancers of the era, many going on to be favorites with the Northern Soul crowd. The Olympics ‘Mine Exclusively’ and e‘Dancing Everywhere’ by Bob & Earl are in my opinion one of the greatest 60’s soul sides on any label. The Performers two 45s for Mirwood fall at the very end of the label’s discography (circa 1968). They appear to have recorded at least one other (very rare and expensive) 45 for the Sir Graham label (“Little Angel”), and the info on the 45 label suggests that Hank “Sir” Graham (apparently a local entrepreneur) brought them to Mirwood as well. Graham seems to have had something to do with Mirwood artist Jimmy Conwell, and the Sir Graham label also released 45s by local garage bands as well. I first discovered the Performers 45 in a box of dead stock in one of my old 45 haunts. I grabbed several copies (all of which – aside from my personal copy – have since been sold or traded away), largely because I had so many other great records on the label. I have been eternally grateful I did, since both sides of this record burn. The a-side ‘I Can’t Stop You’ is an exciting slice of group soul with a pounding beat. There’s some very nice guitar and drums (drums and tambourine are nice and loud for the dancers), the horns are bright and the vocals have a Temptations-esque vibe. The chorus/breakdown is a killer. The flip side, ‘L.A. Stomp’ is an instrumental dub of ‘I Can’t Stop You’, and without the vocals in the chorus several drum breaks pop out in the open. I wouldn’t go so far as to classify either side of this record as out and out funk, but the sound is definitely on the way there. Despite its apparent obscurity, this 45 was also issued in the UK on the Action label. The Kent label has compiled many of the best Mirwood sides on ‘The Mirwood Soul Story’ (the first of two planned volumes), which includes ‘I Can’t Stop You’ by the Performers.

NOTE: If anyone has any additional info on the Performers, please let us know...

O.V. Wright - Love The Way You Love

Mr. O.V. Wright

Here’s one to start your weekend. Way back in the day (like 20 years ago) when I was first digging for soul 45s, O.V. Wright was one of the first artists I was lucky enough to find. Back then I had yet to develop a taste for polished Northern Soul type sounds, and my soul jones could only be soothed by the gritty Southern sound. Whether it was Stax, Goldwax, Fame or Back Beat, I liked my soul 45s dripping with barbecue sauce, onions and and echoes of the Amen Corner. This had a lot to do with the publication in 1986 of Peter Guralnick’s ‘Sweet Soul Music’, by far the best book ever written about Southern soul. Via Guralnick’s words I first found my way to giants like James Carr (‘Dark End of the Street’), Oscar Toney Jr. (‘Ain’t That True Love’) and Wright, and was lucky enough to have a source for many of their best 45s close at hand. Some of the earliest sides I dug up were classics that Wright recorded for Don Robey’s Back Beat label. Wright had started (like many soul greats) as a gospel singer, recording for Peacock with the Sunset Travelers. His first foray into secular music was the original 1964 version of ‘That’s How Strong My Love Is’ for Goldwax (soon to be covered by the mighty Otis Redding). The notorious Robey (one of the great “record industry gangsters” about whom countless horror stories exist) discovered that he still had Wright under contract and brought him to back to the Back Beat label. Wright recorded 20 45’s and several LP’s for Back Beat between 1965 and his early 70’s move to Hi records. Among those 45s, are classics like ‘Eight Men Four Women’, and one of the greatest soul ballads ever recorded (at least in my opinion) , ‘I Want Everyone To Know (I Love You)’. ‘Love The Way You Love’, the 1968 flip side of Wright’s cover of ‘Blowin’ In The Wind’ is one of the most dynamic, rocking soul 45s of the 60’s. Produced by Willie Mitchell, the tune opens with snapping drums (the snare comes down like a sledgehammer), tambourine and a strong horn section. O.V. drops in with a wailing vocal, leading into one of the great, “build-up” choruses of all time with Wright trading lines with his backup singers. I need it... I want it... I LOVE the way you love! (Love the way you love) The hard, relentless beat makes this a great dancer as well. This is one of those records, where it boggles my mind that it wasn’t a hit at the time. It doesn’t seem to have resonated with reissuers either as it doesn’t appear on any of the available collections of Wright’s Back Beat recordings. ‘Blowin In The Wind’ (but not ‘Love The Way You Love’) appeared on Wright’s 1969 Back Beat LP “Nucleus Of Soul’. This leads me to believe that ‘Blowin’...’ may have been regarded as the A-side of the 45, making for one of the greatest miscarriages of justice (and taste) in the history of soul 45s (though if you’re lucky enough to find a copy of the LP, it does include ‘I Want Everyone To Know’). Sadly O.V. Wright struggled with (and succumbed to) drug addiction in his later years, passing in 1980. As I said before, ‘Love The Way You Love’ does not appear to be available in reissue. Those of you that dig for 45s can take heart that none of Wright’s Back Beat sides are not very rare, most falling in the $5 to $15 dollar range (and depending on where you’re digging, a lot less than that). I would however suggest picking up one of the comps of his Back Beat sides (grittier overall than his Hi recordings). I would also suggest – if you haven’t already – reading Peter Guralnick’s ‘Sweet Soul Music’, which is absolutely indispensable.

Andre Brasseur - The Duck

The first time I ever heard Andre Brasseur was via a borrowed copy of a mix, lent to me by my pal Haim. He’d gotten a couple of CDs from legendary German DJ Frank Roth aka DJ Soulpusher. Roth used to put on the wild Vampyros Lesbos nights in NYC (and elsewhere), and the CDs were an insane collection of swinging Euro-rarities, some kitschy, some funky, and all new to me. There were a couple of tracks by Brasseur (including today’s selection), all of which I liked. So...always eager for new Hammond material, I decided to start looking for info on Brasseur. I discovered that he had at least one record released in the US, which was also a huge fave of the Northern Soul crowd, ‘The Kid’ (though it took me a while to track down a copy of the US 45 on the Congress label). The first record of Brasseur’s I was able to get my hands on was a French budget compilation that featured ‘The Kid’, as well as most of his early European hits (a native Belgian, he was a much bigger success in the EU, having had a huge hit with ‘Early Bird Satellite’ in 1965). Brasseur managed to take a pop organ sound and mix it with just a taste of R&B to keep things interesting without sinking into novelty. His early 45s, like ‘Special 230’ with its sports car sound effects had a real Euro-discotheque feel to them. ‘The Duck’, from 1968 is another story entirely. The picture sleeve says that it was recorded live at the Pow Pow club (‘Pow Pow’ is also the title of an early recording of his), and features Andre, perched at the keyboard of his Multi-Sound organ, with his sideburns and his high-school freshman’s moustache, looking bewildered. This look is understandable because the sounds on the 45 are borderline insane. Opening with a heavily accented count-off –

Wahn, teeeuiuexxx, wahn, teuxxx, zhreee fowwwwhhhrr!!

- it’s followed immediately by deranged female screams, hand claps and the heaviest drums ever heard in Belgium (until Chakachas came along). The horns drop in and are soon followed by the “multi-sounds” of the Multi-sound organ (sounds like a Hammond to me, though who knows how many of the sound effects on the record are coming out of the organ). The beat is heavy and the handclaps and swinging party atmosphere are accented by Andre (I think) laughing maniacally, blowing raspberry’s and generally whooping it up at the keyboard. The organ playing is rawer than most of what I’ve heard by Brasseur, and the drums just never let up (the production is great, and super loud). The party goes on for over four minutes, ending with a drunken refrain (instrumental) of that old chestnut ‘Good evening friends!’. Needless to say this 45 is a smoking little party starter. I have no idea if ‘The Duck’ has been reissued. I got my copy from someone in the EU, and the last time I played it out someone told me that it had also been released on an LP. Start looking friends...

Manu Dibango - Weya (45 edit)

Let me begin by saying that my knowledge of Afro-Funk is sketchy at best. I know a lot more than most, but almost nothing compared to some. In the last 10 years there have been a bunch of amazing comps of funky music from Africa, including later volumes of the ‘Ethiopiques’ series, the Africafunk volumes on the UK Harmless label (well packaged and annotated) as well as other one off discs. The problem is that as good as these compilations are (and some of them are excellent), they’re just scratching the surface. It’s like listening to one of the great Trojan ’20 Reggae Classics’ and thinking you’ve got a handle on the music (believe me, you don’t...). It doesn’t help that we’re talking about music from an entire continent, with distinct movements in Nigeria, South Africa, Cameroon, Mali, Ethiopia and on, and on, and on. I have a boxed set of African music that came out on some “world music” label (Ellipsis Arts, I think...) more than 10 years ago. To say that my mind was boggled by the sheer variety of Afro-pop sounds would be an undertstatement. It’s also important to note that there’s a lot of “funky” music from the continent, which most funk 45 collector types would not really classify as funk. I’ve liked King Sunny Ade and Fela for years, though most of what I’ve heard by those artists wouldn’t fall into the funk category. Perhaps the only African musician (aside from Hugh Masekela) to hit it big on the US charts with a “funk” cut would be Manu Dibango. Dibango’s 1972 ‘Soul Makossa’ was a huge international hit, spawning cover versions and rip offs all over the world (it hit the US top 20 in the summer of 1973) . You could probably fill a couple of crates with covers and variations on ‘Soul Makossa’ alone (I actually saw a reference somewhere that at one point there were NINE different versions of the song on various US charts) . When he hit with ‘Soul Makossa’, Manu Dibango had already been performing since the mid 1950’s, in France and Cameroon, originally as a jazz musician, and eventually fusing jazz, pop and African sounds. Dibango – like a lot of African musicians – was also listening to American soul and R&B, particularly James Brown. A tune like ‘Soul Makossa’, with Dibango’s driving sax and chanting was as hard, funky, and danceable as anything coming out of the US during the same period. There are some adventurous types will have you believe that ‘Soul Makossa’ was in fact an early disco record (mainly due to it’s success in European discotheques). Keep in mind that many of these same people say the same thing about ‘Do It (Til You’re Satisfied)’ by BT Express – a supremely funky record – and just because proto-disco DJ’s were spinning the record, doesn’t make it disco (followed of course by a Seinfeld-ian ‘Not that there’s anything wrong with that...”). I first heard ‘Weya’ when I picked up Dibango’s follow-up LP ‘Makossa Man’ (1973). The tune, which bears a passing resemblance to a more relaxed/groove oriented version of ‘Soul Makossa’ ran over six minutes long on the LP. When I finally tracked down the 45 posted here today, the tune had been edited down to around the four minute mark, but hadn’t lost any of its punch. Opening with a chant that includes the word ‘Makossa’*, the groove kicks in immediately. Starting with a fantastic rhythm guitar riff, polyrhythmic percussion and a repeated ascending piano line, all but the drummers drop out and the vocal chant of ‘Weya weya weya weya abana, weya weya weya weya weayaaaaa’ is repeated twice before the band comes back in to restate the main riff. There’s a “chorus” breakdown with some soloing by Dibango before the band gets back into the groove. I’ll be damned if I have any idea what they’re saying (some sounds African, some sounds French) but it’s one of the most infectious records I own. Give it a spin at your next giraffe-roast and watch the dance-floor magic begin! ‘Weya’ was also sampled by the Jungle Brothers for their track ‘Straight Outta The Jungle’. Sadly, ‘Weya’ is not currently available in reissue, unless you’re lucky enough to track down a copy of the Harmless ‘Africafunk’ comp. As always, you can always track down the vinyl (not all that hard to find in this case). If you can’t do that, the comp below is a good primer for the music of Manu Dibango. * The use of the term “Makossa” in tunes by Manu Dibango, expecially “Soul Makossa” has been disputed by scholars of African music, who claim that his records are not representative of the “Makossa” style. I have no idea what they’re talking about, but I thought I should mention it.