I don't know if it's shown but I've been feeling unmotivated to post lately. It's mostly because I've been exhausted by a slew of other work (much of if SSV2-related, ironically enough) but also, I've been feeling uninspired by music to some degree. I'm not going to turn this into a therapy session or anything but the gist of my dispassion is a combination of a few forces (among them a general pessimism about the state of hip-hop but why roast that old chestnut again?).
In any case, I came upon this story today and I was so incredulous over it that it renewed some of my faith in the magic of music. Why?
Because the Dapele album that this story discusses being rediscovered in Japan and bringing attention to a group no one's heard from in three decades was something I wrote about in 2004 on this very site. Yeah, you heard right: I was up on Dapele since back in the day (insofar as "the day" was three years ago). In fact, do a search for "Dapele" and who comes up #2 in Google? Sayin'.
My point is not to preen - it's not like my site had anything to do with Dapele's resurgence (not that I know of). My point is that sometimes, I forget that what makes writing about music fun isn't opining over whether or not the new Fabolous cut with Jay-Z is hot lava or not (btw...not really) or trying to figure out if Amy Winehouse is Elvis with a beehive but sometimes, it's about discovering music you haven't heard before and trying to share it with people. I know that's pretty much most of what I try to do here but for whatever reason, lately, I've lost sight of that and this whole Dapele phenom was a nice reminder that there are many great stories and music waiting to be rediscovered. I'm still exhausted but at least I feel reinvigorated to get back to why I started doing all this to begin with.
The Good News: The CDs finally came today. All pre-orders of SSV2 are now packed and ready to ship on Tuesday (Monday is a holiday in the U.S.).
The Bad News: The number of pre-orders far exceeded the prelim estimates which means I have to order an additional batch of CDs from the label. Hopefully, this time, it won't take so long to get them out but it does mean that those who ordered on or after Saturday, May 19th, will likely have to wait until around June 5th to see them shipped out. This also applies to people who made multiple orders (SSV2 + Deep Covers, for example).*
For those in the latter camp, I'm willing to refund your order if you like. Just email me and I can process right away. Again, this only applies to people whose orders were either 1) placed on or after 5/19, 2) included a second or third CD.
Thanks again for your patience. I'm adding another bonus CD for purchasers from the site as a way to thank folks for their understanding.
*Those who ordered the LPs: the LPs haven't gotten in yet but when they do, they will ship immediately.
It's Memorial Day Weekend which means that as we celebrate the informal return of summer, it also means we're relaunching our annual Summer Songs posts.
It all began here. Now, in our third year, we've gotten even more ambitious, with over 10 guests invited to muse on what their perfect summer songs are.
First up: Eric Weisbard. Enjoy. Frank Zappa/Mothers of Invention: Plastic People From Absolutely Free (Rykodisc, 1967)
Los Abandoned: Van Nuys Es Very Nice From Mix Tape (Vapor Us, 2006)
Jonathan Richman: That Summer Feeling From Jonathan, Sings (Rough Trade, 1983)
Garth Brooks: That Summer From Chase (Liberty, 1992)
DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince: Summertime From Home Base (Jive, 1991)
Bryan Adams: Summer of '69 From Restless (A&M, 1984)
The first guest for 2007's Summer Songs season is Eric Weisbard. I first met Eric back in the late '90s when he was the music editor at the Village Voice and not long thereafter, he joined the staff at the Experience Music Project and seeing him would become a yearly event thanks to all the work he put in assembling the annual Pop Music Conference. Since he and his wife Ann Powers ended up in Los Angeles not long before me and my family came down, I've had the pleasure of spending even more time with them and have constantly reminded myself that Eric has a scary, encyclopedic memory for all things music-related. He knows every anecdote and story you can imagine, cross-genre.
These days, apart from EMP, Eric stays busy with book writing, having already helped put the Spin Alternative Record Guide together as well as writing an entire book on Guns N' Roses' Use Your Illusion. He's currently finishing up his long-delayed PhD dissertation from UC Berkeley (Bears, holla!). With that, here's Eric Weisbard's ruminations on summer songs*:
Summer for me is sleepaway camp, that great invention of Jewish parents looking for a way to make their kids full-on Americans rather than pasty Yids. Michael Rogin and many others have written about how Jews "became white." Summer camp is how we became tanned. My parents, both former counselors, are among the least rocking people I know. But they loved the beach, lobster in Maine, tennis, and Catskills holidays, and they sent me first to a summer camp in the Poconos sponsored by the once-socialist Workmen's Circle and then to a place around an unspellably Indian-named lake in New Hampshire. Like most things my parents pushed, I eventually hated summer camp, but my own variants – bicycle trips via American Youth Hostels, a consistent habit of uprooting myself in the sweaty season – owe a lot to it. Summer is all about the getaway.
Which makes summer songs the music I found when I got there. It was "Plastic People" by Frank Zappa in NH, heard via a bunkmate with an older brother and some hippie ken who introduced me to the concept of underground sounds, or maybe of using music to sneer. It was "My Way" performed by Sid Vicious, which three punk girls on one of my bicycle trips listened to obsessively, decoding the words as if Sid's were the only version available. And it was "Rebel Without a Pause," whistling like a new Yankee Doodle out of the cars that went boom the summer I moved from Princeton to Berkeley and took with me a (duh) black Public Enemy t-shirt that bizarrely accorded me a smidgen of rap cred.
Did the genres stop changing with the seasons, or did I just get older? Preparing to move back from Cali to New York City, my summer song was Neil Young's post-grunge "I'm the Ocean," a manifesto of realized rockhead that attached to my own triumphant feelings driving around his immense ranch as my first cover story for Spin coincided with their offering me my first job. The summer of 2001 was the opposite: exchanging media for museum work in Seattle, my wife Ann and I slamdanced, on September 8, with the college radio crowd, at Josh's wedding at the summer camp in Maine that his rich stepfather had bought to recapture childhood, to the unapologetically retro Loser's Lounge live rendition of "Islands in the Stream" -- thirtywhatevers settling in for the long haul and saying goodbye to more than we realized. Most recently, when I got to Los Angeles last year for a summer that began May 1 and rarely blinked, my companion in air conditioned traffic snarls was Los Abandoned's Spanglish power-pop; I was a parent myself now, benign about a younger generation's (and different immigrant group's) need to dance along the line between assimilation and conquest.
Jonathan Richman's "That Summer Feeling" was the song I thought of first when you asked me about the subject. It's programmatic, comprehensive, and refuses to let you say no. But ask yourself, is he really nostalgic for his childhood or rather haunted by feeling like a (Jewish) outsider to the whole Beach Boys endless summer thing? Or think about Will Smith's "Summertime," "That Summer" by Garth Brooks, or Bryan Adams's "Summer of '69." Three varieties of mainstream reverie, each is about finding a new way to fly into the sun. The fantasy was set in myth long before we all got there. The challenge of the summer song is to see what place for you there is anyway.
*Given the number of songs in this post, I divshare-d them as a way to reduce bandwidth. Sorry for the inconvenience.
It's Memorial Day Weekend which means that as we celebrate the informal return of summer, it also means we're relaunching our annual Summer Songs posts.
It all began here. Now, in our third year, we've gotten even more ambitious, with over 10 guests invited to muse on what their perfect summer songs are.
First up: Eric Weisbard. Enjoy. Frank Zappa/Mothers of Invention: Plastic People From Absolutely Free (Rykodisc, 1967)
The first guest for 2007's Summer Songs season is Eric Weisbard. I first met Eric back in the late '90s when he was the music editor at the Village Voice and not long thereafter, he joined the staff at the Experience Music Project and seeing him would become a yearly event thanks to all the work he put in assembling the annual Pop Music Conference. Since he and his wife Ann Powers ended up in Los Angeles not long before me and my family came down, I've had the pleasure of spending even more time with them and have constantly reminded myself that Eric has a scary, encyclopedic memory for all things music-related. He knows every anecdote and story you can imagine, cross-genre.
These days, apart from EMP, Eric stays busy with book writing, having already helped put the Spin Alternative Record Guide together as well as writing an entire book on Guns N' Roses' Use Your Illusion. He's currently finishing up his long-delayed PhD dissertation from UC Berkeley (Bears, holla!). With that, here's Eric Weisbard's ruminations on summer songs*:
Summer for me is sleepaway camp, that great invention of Jewish parents looking for a way to make their kids full-on Americans rather than pasty Yids. Michael Rogin and many others have written about how Jews "became white." Summer camp is how we became tanned. My parents, both former counselors, are among the least rocking people I know. But they loved the beach, lobster in Maine, tennis, and Catskills holidays, and they sent me first to a summer camp in the Poconos sponsored by the once-socialist Workmen's Circle and then to a place around an unspellably Indian-named lake in New Hampshire. Like most things my parents pushed, I eventually hated summer camp, but my own variants – bicycle trips via American Youth Hostels, a consistent habit of uprooting myself in the sweaty season – owe a lot to it. Summer is all about the getaway.
Which makes summer songs the music I found when I got there. It was "Plastic People" by Frank Zappa in NH, heard via a bunkmate with an older brother and some hippie ken who introduced me to the concept of underground sounds, or maybe of using music to sneer. It was "My Way" performed by Sid Vicious, which three punk girls on one of my bicycle trips listened to obsessively, decoding the words as if Sid's were the only version available. And it was "Rebel Without a Pause," whistling like a new Yankee Doodle out of the cars that went boom the summer I moved from Princeton to Berkeley and took with me a (duh) black Public Enemy t-shirt that bizarrely accorded me a smidgen of rap cred.
Did the genres stop changing with the seasons, or did I just get older? Preparing to move back from Cali to New York City, my summer song was Neil Young's post-grunge "I'm the Ocean," a manifesto of realized rockhead that attached to my own triumphant feelings driving around his immense ranch as my first cover story for Spin coincided with their offering me my first job. The summer of 2001 was the opposite: exchanging media for museum work in Seattle, my wife Ann and I slamdanced, on September 8, with the college radio crowd, at Josh's wedding at the summer camp in Maine that his rich stepfather had bought to recapture childhood, to the unapologetically retro Loser's Lounge live rendition of "Islands in the Stream" -- thirtywhatevers settling in for the long haul and saying goodbye to more than we realized. Most recently, when I got to Los Angeles last year for a summer that began May 1 and rarely blinked, my companion in air conditioned traffic snarls was Los Abandoned's Spanglish power-pop; I was a parent myself now, benign about a younger generation's (and different immigrant group's) need to dance along the line between assimilation and conquest.
Jonathan Richman's "That Summer Feeling" was the song I thought of first when you asked me about the subject. It's programmatic, comprehensive, and refuses to let you say no. But ask yourself, is he really nostalgic for his childhood or rather haunted by feeling like a (Jewish) outsider to the whole Beach Boys endless summer thing? Or think about Will Smith's "Summertime," "That Summer" by Garth Brooks, or Bryan Adams's "Summer of '69." Three varieties of mainstream reverie, each is about finding a new way to fly into the sun. The fantasy was set in myth long before we all got there. The challenge of the summer song is to see what place for you there is anyway.
*Given the number of songs in this post, I divshare-d them as a way to reduce bandwidth. Sorry for the inconvenience.
One of the compliments once paid to Soul Sides was in regards to our now famous "Apache Post" that was an adaptation of a Michaelangleo Matos paper given at the Experience Music Project Conference a few years back - this time, complete with sound files to help illustrate the point.
The reason people seemed to like it is that it seemed to embody the potential for audioblogs to create a unique medium for discussion and expression. After all, it's more than just text or music on its own, but can combine the two in illuminating ways.
On that note, I'd like to pay respect to another EMP paper, this one given just the other month by ethnomusicologist Wayne Marshall of Wayne and Wax. It's on the "Zigzagging Zungazung Meme," which should be familiar to anyone who has, y'know, listened to hip-hop or reggae in the last 20 years. In this paper, Marshall traces the beginning of the "zungazeng zunga zunga zang" chant from Yellowman's "Zunguzung" in 1982 and how it managed to creep into everything from the music of BDP, 2Pac, Biggie, Joe Budden and Matisyahu.
It's a completely mesmerizing journey that Marshall takes you on and it's only abetted by the fact that he includes sound clips for every key way station you pass along the way, culminating in his massive "Mini-Mega-Mix."
This is well worth taking some time to read and listen. You'll thank yourself for it.
Meanwhile, I also had some time to catch up with some other audioblogs and seriously, When They Reminisce's two-part series on the samplings of "Blind Alley" (uno/dos) is what this medium is also all about. Eric, with help from Jaz, basically cobbled together a few dozen uses of the Emotions' "Blind Alley" (perhaps my favorite sample of all time) which is probably best known on Big Daddy Kane's "Ain't No Half Steppin'" but has been flipped many, many times since. The WTR folks did a bang up job turning over every stone, with a lot of songs most of you younger dudes have never heard and older cats like me forgot about.
Personally, aside from BDK, two of my other favorite uses of the song are: 1) Redman's "Reggie Noble vs. Redman" as well as 2) Craig Mack's "Funk Wit Da Style" (both are included in the Part 1 post) and the reason why is because they let the main loop play. At least half of the songs WTR includes are tracks that flip the drum break off the song but filter the loop out and personally, I love the song FOR those bells so any song that puts 'em front and center is good in my book.
Which leads us to...
One of the songs included is King Sun's "Sippin' Brandy" a legendary early '90s single that appeared on both Big Boss and Money Bag Records. Notoriously rare even though King Sun wasn't exactly obscure. I have to thank Ed over at Sandbox for getting me the Big Boss version into my hands, many years ago. In any case, it uses the "Blind Alley" loop but flips it a bit different from other folks.
I noticed the song was included in the WTR post and taking a listen to it I realized with a chuckle: it's the version of the song I put on my Incognitos Redux mixtape (not currently for purchase but I'm working on it). I know this because there's a breakdown in the song where I mix in part of a Motion Man single (Joe Quixxx, holla!) and sure enough, on the WTR version, that same mixed in segment is there. However, it sounds like they have a burn of a burn or something pretty lo-fi so I decided to re-up a better version above, albeit one where I edited it so it's only the first verse and chorus. Sorry but this is one of those songs that I still like to keep close to the chest, if you know what I mean. Still, you can see what makes the song pretty dope just based on what you have here. One of these days, someone needs to do a proper reissue of it. Such a lost classic....
But my point? When They Reminisce = killing it. Go peep their posts and check out those tracks before their gone. Great, great post so 'nuff respect to them.
One of the main extracurricular projects I've worked on this past year was to research and write the liner notes to Betty Davis' two reissue CDs, just released by Light in the Attic.
This is a big deal and I don't mean just for myself. Even though Betty isn't exactly the secret she's been in the past (I, among others, have written about her for a while), this is the first time her two Just Sunshine albums have been made available legally on reissue and Light in the Attic went all out in terms of packaging and extras. As such, this has also been the first time that Betty has made herself available to interviews in over 20 years. I spoke with her last spring and summer and since then, a few select journalists have also had access to the legendary recluse, including Jeff Chang for the SF Chronicle.
For my part, I spoke to around a dozen different people connected to Betty - some of my favorite interviews included Greg Errico, the former Sly and the Family Stone drummer who produced Betty's first album; Michael Carabello, Santana percussionist and Betty's ex-flame; and Fred Mills, one of Betty's studio and tour players for her third and fourth albums. Given that Betty doesn't really have much to say for herself ('tis true), it was only through interviewing others that one gets a sense of who she was and what her music was about.
I wish I had something more poignant to say about working on the project...or my thoughts on Betty (you can check here for some of that) but really, most of what I had to say is all in the liner notes - all gazillion words of it (it's long, very long).
In other words:buy these albums. At the very least, it finally puts some money back in Betty's pocket - this after years of her work being illegally bootlegged and sampled.
For the Soul Sides massive though, I have a few copies to give away.
Grand prize: both Betty Davis CDs (signed!) + SSV2 + Deep Covers.
2 Runner-ups: each person will receive one of the Betty Davis CDs
To enter, all you need to do is this: send me a photo that incorporates you and your copy of Soul Sides Vol. 1. The composition of the photo is up to you so long as both you and the album are somewhere visible in frame. Those wishing to use proxies may not use household pets but I will accept the substitution of small children (presumably yours). Out of the bunch, I'll pick a winner plus the runner-ups.
Note: I reserve the right to post any and all images you send my way unless you specifically request that I not.
I was totally derelict in forgetting to mention one of the best pieces you can read about Betty Davis - John Ballon's amazing cover story for Wax Poetics. It is absolutely essential, as much as my liners.
Ok, so the day is here: Soul Sides Vol. 2 is officially out.* I'll continue selling CDs through the site and remember - all Soul-Sides.com orders come with a bonus, 8 song disc (delivered electronically) with even more of my favorite cover songs (the titles are on the hush-hush).
However, I won't be selling any future copies of the album on vinyl (pre-order sales will be honored). Instead, I suggest people check with Dusty Groove with that. I'm assuming Turntable Lab will also pick it up eventually but it's not up on their site yet.
The launch parties should be in full swing. I just got back from the Massive Selector-sponsored party in San Diego - that was a blast (thanks Audrey!) and I'm trying to get the L.A. and Bay Area parties lined up and ready to go for June.
Just in case you want to know what other folks think of the album, here's a few reviews for you (not all of which call it the "best thing ever!!!" but we're cool with that):
Seriously, I don't want to drown my own site in plugging the CD. Ya'll know the deal. Many of you have already ordered and for that, I'm very appreciative.
I do, however, have other things to talk with ya'll about besides this album (namely, the Betty Davis CDs which I'm about to post about soon). Thanks for bearing with...
*For those wondering why I'm not hosting my own songs, I was asked not to as a way to help give the ringtone sales a boost and that seemed like a reasonable request to me. Besides, it's my album. Just buy it. Support the site!
For those who want to rock some SSV2 tunes on their mobile, there are four ringtones available:
We don't want to play favorites but the "Che Che Cole" kind of kicks ass as a ringtone.
By the way, for those who ordered SSV2 on vinyl, there's been delays in getting these finished. We won't be able to ship any vinyl orders until 5/22 or later. Apologies for that, though if it's any consolation, I think everyone is in the same boat as we are.
KRS-One and Marley Marl: I Was There From Hip Hop Lives (Koch, 2007)
Question: Has there been another hip-hop legend who has done more damage to his own legacy - by insisting we acknowledge his legacy - than KRS-One?
Sometimes I want to forget he made Criminal Minded or By All Means Necessary because then I have to acknowledge that he was once one of the greatest MCs ever. Now he's making songs that sound like parodies of a comedian recording a "KRS-One song." It's a little depressing.
By the way, in terms of why KRS would be so remarkably defensive sounding against "rap historians" - I'm going to take a long shot and guess it has something to do with this. Back in the day, I thought hip-hop would never die...
Frank Roberts Four: It's Your Thing From In Canada (Westmount, 196?)
There are some songs where I never, ever, need to hear a cover of (starting with "Eleanor Rigby"). There are other songs where I'll always lend an ear for - "Ain't No Sunshine," "Cissy Strut," and today's selection, the Isley Bros.' "It's Your Thing." It's no secret I'm a huge fan of the song: I put Ann Peebles' version on an older mixtape, Adventures in Rhythm; Deep Covers has a Lyman Woodard version, and now SSV2 rocks the Cold Grits' version. Here's two more:
Dyke and the Blazers' is a tough one to beat - what I like about it is how it tweaks that familiar, signature bassline from the Isleys by flipping it almost double-time, basically making a funky riff even funkier. All praises due the Blazers on this one, aka the Watts 103rd St. Rhythm Band.
The Frank Roberts Four version comes from a Canadian private press soul album and their take on the classic is with an interesting blend of harmonized vocals and B3 Hammond organ front and center. Random to be sure but that's the beauty in cuts like "It's Your Thing." I'm sure, somewhere out there, some killer Polish or Maori or Vietnamese version lurks.
Da Youngsta's: Crews Pop From The Aftermath (East West, 1993)
Da Youngsta's: Grim Reaper From No Mercy (East West, 1994)
Da Youngsta's Illy Funkstaz: I'll Make You Famous From I'll Make U Famous (Pop Art, 1995)
I mentioned earlier about having a few posts on the back burner and I have to admit...one of them was above this trio of kiddie rappers from Philadelphia: Da Youngsta's.
First, I want to know why they have an apostrophe in their name...shoudn't it be "Da Youngatas"? "Da Youngsta's" is technically possessive but what is being possessed?
Second, I realize that many of you are either asking, 1) who the f--- were Da Youngsta's and/or 2) why is O-Dub dedicating a post to them, of all the various hip-hop groups I could have?
Fair questions. The thing is - I never found the group to be that compelling BITD - they were unabashedly a gimmick group from jump, capitalizing on, presumably the same wave that produced Kris Kross, pre-Infamous Mobb Deep, Chi Ali, etc. With each album, you could tell how derivative their style was based on who they were jacking at the time. Their second album was arguably the worst case offender with styles - visually and lyrically - that seemed straight bit off any number of NY-area artists, especially Naughty by Nature and Onyx.
Yet, despite all this, they put out four albums, three of which on majors. Sure, for the early '90s, that probably wasn't that rare but you have to admit that it wasn't like an everyday thing. Even more notable are the producers they got to work with: The Beatnuts, Marley Marl, Pete Rock, DJ Premier, etc. As such, all of their four albums still managed to produce a few songs that are worth a listen, just for kicks if nothing else (and here at Soul Sides, we're all about "just for kicks").
Some questions you should all consider:
1) How does a group that isn't even old enough to have reached puberty going to cut a song called "Reminiss"? 2) What's with the name "Da Younsta's Illy Funkstaz"? 3) Did they really have it like that, as they claim on "I'll Make You Famous"? 4) When they did a collabo with Mobb Deep, do you wonder if both crews looked at one another and thought, "toys"?
Eddie Kendricks: Date With the Rain (Disco Mix) From 12" (Duotone, 2001)
I've been so neck-deep in 1) end of the semester work + 2) SSV2-related stuff that I just lack the mental energy to craft too many new posts even though I have a slew of music to write about, waiting in the wings. As a way to keep the posts comin' though, here's an oldie but goodie though from Soul Sides past:
"I do not exaggerate when I say that this extended remix is one of the best things I've ever heard.
"Date With the Rain" is a most amazing dancefloor cut, like some magical song you enjoy while hopped up on E or 'shrooms except without the need for mind-altering substances. Sublimely funk/groovy, builds with patience but delivers quickly, and understands how to use repetition to maximum effect. I suppose you can enjoy this on headphones but really, you need to be knee-deep in a club, with this easing out of the speakers and you'll understand just how awesome it is."
If you never caught it the first time around, here's your chance now.
Thanks to everyone for coming out to the Mandrake Bar last night. Me and Murphy's Law had a good ol' time spinning, chatting it up with folks and giving away my Betty Davis promos. We plan on doing this again real soon - we'll keep you in the pipeline.
Speaking of which: here's a list so far of places hosting either listening or release parties for Soul Sides Vol. 2. My thanks to everyone for helping spread the word. We have the following cities represented thus far:
San Diego Staten Island Lawrenece, KS Chicago Pittsburgh Denver Vancouver Philly Washington D.C. Itaca Milwaukee
At some point, I'll put together a formal L.A. release party, probably in early June. And I definitely want to put something together for the Bay Area too.
I admit - it's kind of wack for me to copy n' paste my own article from another source but I had been meaning to write about the Twinight's Lunar Rotation comp for a while and having just done it for NPR's Song of the Day, I thought it'd be more *cough cough* efficient to just repost what I wrote for them and then add on some additional thoughts (plus a song).
Let me say this much: this is one of the best anthologies of a single label that I have ever heard and that says a lot considering the other fine titles in Numero Group's Eccentric Soul series. However, as I note below, song for song...the Twinight catalog is amazing and perhaps that explains why Numero has taken the extraordinary step of reissuing every single ever released by Twinight, beginning with these. Seriously, if you make only one purchase this month...well, actually, please buy SSV2. But if you make two purchases, make your other one Twinight's Lunar Rotation. Here's what I had to say about the comp and the Kaldirons song for NPR:
Chicago's Twinight imprint coexisted with scores of regional soul labels that sprang up during the 1960s. Like many, Twinight wasn't long for this world, lasting from roughly 1967 through 1972. However, during its lifetime, Twinight boasted — single for single — one of the strongest and most consistent catalogs for any R&B label of its era. Long overlooked save for a handful of tracks, Twinight finally receives the spotlight it deserves thanks to the comprehensive Twinight's Lunar Rotation anthology. (Numero Group intends to reissue the entire Twinight catalog of seven-inch singles on vinyl, with original label art.)
Of the 40-plus songs that dot this set, The Kaldirons' "To Love Someone (Who Don't Love You)" is first among equals, the product of a group formed at Harlan High School on Chicago's south side. Unfortunately for the group, "To Love Someone" ended up becoming one of Twinight's most obscure singles, with purportedly less than 500 copies ever distributed. This failure is hard to reconcile against the song itself: In short, "To Love Someone" is a monster of a ballad.
Produced by Jimmy Jones (best known for his collaborations with blues/R&B singer Syl Johnson), the song opens with a sweeping string arrangement. Strings are tricky to master in soul music: The right amount lends an important emotional weight, but an overabundance can overwhelm a song's delicate textures. Jones, like his counterpoint across town at Chess (the great Charles Stepney), nails that ideal balance. Even before The Kaldirons' vocal harmony glides in, "To Love Someone" already has the feel of something epic.
From there, the group gives a sweet soul performance that easily holds its own next to anything other Chicago groups (like the Impressions or Dells) could boast. Delivered in a striking falsetto, the truism "It's no good to love someone who don't love you" oozes heartache. Given the chorus' catchy arrangement, listeners shouldn't be surprised to find themselves singing along with every note — or at least trying to hit those upper octaves.
"To Love Someone" does leave a slight bittersweet aftertaste: In being witness to such grandeur, it's only natural to wish that the group had released more songs. Still, if it was destined to only release this one single, at least The Kaldirons made the most of it.
Bonus round: One of my other absolute favorites off the comp is "Be My Lady" by the Dynamic Tints which, unlike "To Love Someone" is actually fairly easy to come by (assuming you're willing to part with $25 or so). That's a blessing because it's such a great tune - something any soul/funk DJ/collector should consider filing into their crates. Is it the banging pianos at the beginning? The vocals? The lyrics? The horn section?
Yes.
I should also add, just for people's general edification: Syl Johnson (as noted above) was a huge part - if not seminal - to Twinight's success though, because he owns all his songs, he's notably absent from the comp. This isn't a real disaster given that you can actually buy a lot of Johnson's Twinight material on CD already (unlike the vast majority of what's on Lunar Rotation). I didn't have time to get into it for the NPR piece but yeah - Twinight was as much Johnson's baby as anyone's, especially in being one of the main producing forces there.
John Legend: Slow Dance From Once Again (Sony, 2006)
A reader brought to my attention that two recent songs - Legend's "Slow Dance" and Amy Winehouse's "He Can Only Hold Her" - are based around the same sample/interpolation and he was wondering: what is the original?
I was curious to and rooted around a bit and pulled up the Icemen's relatively obscure 1966 single, "My Girl, She's a Fox" (not to be confused with the Icemen's "How Can I Get Over a Fox Like You"...presumably, the post-break-up song). I say "relatively obscure" since the Icemen's tune is actually fairly well known for the simple fact of who's playing guitar on there: a young Jimi Hendrix. Legend's song uses the Hendrix lick obviously - Winehouse's song interpolates it but to be honest, I prefer Amy's track. It's more inventive but both songs make great use of the Icemen original.
Soul Sides Vol. 2: The Covers is now available for pre-orders, both CD and LP. All orders will ship out before the May 22nd release date.
Also, one lucky person who pre-orders will win themselves a vintage Califone turntable!*
But wait...there's more: All pre-orders will receive a bonus pack of songs (delivered electronically) - 8 more cover songs, all hand-selected. Half are songs that have never appeared on Soul-Sides.com. This offer is exclusive to Soul-Sides.com pre-orders only.
Thanks for everyone's patience - as noted last post, I've been doing a lot of traveling the past month and it's strange how even short two day trips are momentum-killers. I guess I'm not as flexible as I thought in terms of dealing with changes to my weekly routines. In fact, just to make this completely ironic - I'm literally writing this post on an airplane right now (god bless US Airways for having laptop power outlets in their coach seats). Hey, get in where you fit in, right?
I first came upon Honey & The Bees off of someone's soul mix and was so struck by their sound, the first thing I did was procure their Dynamite! anthology. I haven't done as much homework on the group as I'd like but here's the basics:
H&TB were a female soul group out of Philadelphia, originally named the Yum Yums, and comprised of Nadine Felder White, Cassandra Ann Wooten, Jean Davis and Gwen Oliver. They changed their name to Honey & the Bees before signing with Arctic (the great soul imprint that was also home to the Soul Ambassadors). The group recorded around five sides with Arctic, including a few choice and expensive Northern soul pieces. (Dynamite! compiles all those singles, plus what I can only assume to be a few bonus tracks from the vault).
In 1970, Honey & The Bees went over to Josie (best known as the home of the Meters' first three albums) and knocked out an LP for them plus another half dozen or so singles. I'm not entirely clear on this, but it seems that with both labels, the group had the backing of Gamble-Huff players including Thom Bell, Leon Huff, Ron Baker and others. As such, though the Supremes are an obvious point of comparison, Honey & The Bees had far better production that the vast majority of girl group aspirants from the same era.
The group was strong enough to end up touring with James Brown for a spell in the early 1970s (Fred Wesley would woo and eventually marry Gwen Oliver as a consequence) though their headstrong, take-no-b.s. attitude eventually came into conflict with Brown's own strong-armed control over his players and he had Wesley remove the group off tour.
"Together Forever" is probably my favorite track from the group's Arctic years (though the fiery "Baby, Do That Thing" is nothing to sneeze at either) - love the string arrangement, the group harmony that opens the song and the general lushness of it all.
"Come Get It" shares many of the same qualities and I especially dig that bass chord sequence that opens the song and powers the chorus. And as with all their songs, the vocals are phenomenal, especially for anyone who is into female soul as much as I am.
