Jackey Beavers - Somebody Help The Beggar Man
Jackey Beavers' "I Need My Baby" is probably one of the best-known Northern Soul songs of all time, and his contributions to the history of Motown are important to that label's history. Overall, though, Beavers' recordings are pretty obscure. Some biographical details are here and I'll defer to them for most of this write-up. Beavers found himself working with John Richbourg at Sound Stage Seven and Richbourg's own Seventy Seven label at the end of the '60s and into the early '70s, where he wrote for several of Richbourg's artists and recorded everything from soul to funk to gospel as a solo artist, none of which was particularly successful (one recording was a remake of "Someday We'll Be Together," which he had written and recorded with Johnny Bristol many years earlier - see this post about the great, but mostly unknown, Jackey & Johnny version). "Somebody Help The Beggar Man" is a solid piece of get-down that was released on Seventy Seven in 1974 (at some point the record also came out on Buddah). Beavers and a male chorus provide some off-kilter and pretty meaningless lyrics, as the bumping proto-disco groove is the star of the record. The flip, the strangely titled "Mr. Bump Man (Lend Me a Hand) (Part II)" keeps the groove alive for another three minutes.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Get On Down With The Gospel Truth!
Clarence Smith - I Don't Know Why Jesus Loves Me (Oh Yes I Love Him)
(Warning: This is a big file - 18MB)
Last week's Sunday gospel post covered Stax's short-lived Chalice label. After Chalice folded, save for the 1969 Volt 45 "Hello Sunshine" b/w "Amazing Grace" by Maceo Woods, Stax stayed out of the gospel business until it established the Gospel Truth imprint in the early '70s. Since Stax was no longer the mom-and-pop operation it was in the Chalice days, R&B industry pros like the legendary promoter Dave Clark (from Duke/Peacock) and Gene Barge (from Chess) were brought in to join the Stax staff with these recordings. The label's biggest successes came via the Rance Allen Group, whose recordings such as "Hot Line to Jesus" and "Just My Imagination (Just My Salvation)" brought gospel into the soulful '70s. When Stax's distribution arrangement with Columbia Records began to go south in 1974, Stax rebranded the label as "Truth Records" and released soul, pop and country recordings along with gospel in an unsuccessful attempt to put out material outside of the distribution agreement (an approach also taken with the heretofore spoken word/political soul Respect label).
Today's selection came from the 1973 Gospel Truth LP Whatever Happened to Love, a Tom Nixon production on Clarence Smith. The album is a virtual "who's who" of the Stax staff at the time: Nixon had produced Rufus Thomas' funk hits and had hit with the Temprees on his own We Produce imprint; singer/songwriter/producer Mack Rice (who had written hits for the Staple Singers and others) wrote some of the material for the album and sang backup along with several other Gospel Truth and We Produce artists; and the Movement (Isaac Hayes' band), along with the South Memphis Horns (whose leader was the former Bar-Kay Ben Cauley), provided accompaniment. Although the LP's funky take on the spiritual "Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child" is the best-known cut, as it has made some noise among beat heads, I'm partial to Smith's cover of Andrae Crouch's "I Don't Know Why Jesus Loves Me." At first the song doesn't sound like anything special, as Smith sings the verses pretty plainly, but a majority of the 8-minute track is spent on Smith's personal testimony. As he tells the listener of his own path to God, the strong groove and the "Jesus" refrain from the backup singers spins a hypnotic web, and by the end of the track Smith moves into a falsetto that soars over the groove to cap things off.
(Warning: This is a big file - 18MB)
Last week's Sunday gospel post covered Stax's short-lived Chalice label. After Chalice folded, save for the 1969 Volt 45 "Hello Sunshine" b/w "Amazing Grace" by Maceo Woods, Stax stayed out of the gospel business until it established the Gospel Truth imprint in the early '70s. Since Stax was no longer the mom-and-pop operation it was in the Chalice days, R&B industry pros like the legendary promoter Dave Clark (from Duke/Peacock) and Gene Barge (from Chess) were brought in to join the Stax staff with these recordings. The label's biggest successes came via the Rance Allen Group, whose recordings such as "Hot Line to Jesus" and "Just My Imagination (Just My Salvation)" brought gospel into the soulful '70s. When Stax's distribution arrangement with Columbia Records began to go south in 1974, Stax rebranded the label as "Truth Records" and released soul, pop and country recordings along with gospel in an unsuccessful attempt to put out material outside of the distribution agreement (an approach also taken with the heretofore spoken word/political soul Respect label).
Today's selection came from the 1973 Gospel Truth LP Whatever Happened to Love, a Tom Nixon production on Clarence Smith. The album is a virtual "who's who" of the Stax staff at the time: Nixon had produced Rufus Thomas' funk hits and had hit with the Temprees on his own We Produce imprint; singer/songwriter/producer Mack Rice (who had written hits for the Staple Singers and others) wrote some of the material for the album and sang backup along with several other Gospel Truth and We Produce artists; and the Movement (Isaac Hayes' band), along with the South Memphis Horns (whose leader was the former Bar-Kay Ben Cauley), provided accompaniment. Although the LP's funky take on the spiritual "Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child" is the best-known cut, as it has made some noise among beat heads, I'm partial to Smith's cover of Andrae Crouch's "I Don't Know Why Jesus Loves Me." At first the song doesn't sound like anything special, as Smith sings the verses pretty plainly, but a majority of the 8-minute track is spent on Smith's personal testimony. As he tells the listener of his own path to God, the strong groove and the "Jesus" refrain from the backup singers spins a hypnotic web, and by the end of the track Smith moves into a falsetto that soars over the groove to cap things off.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Chicago Soul Writer's Block Solutions
Major Lance - Follow The Leader
I apologize for not doing part of the "Soul Blues" series today, but I'm just a little too tired to look stuff up and give a good write-up of my next planned selection for that series. Fortunately, there is always a good solution to any problem, and today that solution is Major Lance.
Major Lance's string of '60s R&B smashes (some of which, most notably "The Monkey Time," did well in the pop market as well) for OKeh would cement the Chicago soul singe in the annals of fame, but many of his subsequent recordings of the later '60s and the '70s for Dakar, Volt, Curtom and other labels are definitely worth checking out. I was hipped to this tasty Dakar 45 by Brian Phillips, who included it on the most recent episode of his "The Electrophonic Sounds" show (click the "Rockin' Radio" link at the right and check out this great show), and while joining Phillips at a recent record fair I was able to score a copy. The Brunswick/Dakar sound is in full flower here, and Lance rides the surging groove well. Thanks Brian!
I apologize for not doing part of the "Soul Blues" series today, but I'm just a little too tired to look stuff up and give a good write-up of my next planned selection for that series. Fortunately, there is always a good solution to any problem, and today that solution is Major Lance.
Major Lance's string of '60s R&B smashes (some of which, most notably "The Monkey Time," did well in the pop market as well) for OKeh would cement the Chicago soul singe in the annals of fame, but many of his subsequent recordings of the later '60s and the '70s for Dakar, Volt, Curtom and other labels are definitely worth checking out. I was hipped to this tasty Dakar 45 by Brian Phillips, who included it on the most recent episode of his "The Electrophonic Sounds" show (click the "Rockin' Radio" link at the right and check out this great show), and while joining Phillips at a recent record fair I was able to score a copy. The Brunswick/Dakar sound is in full flower here, and Lance rides the surging groove well. Thanks Brian!
Friday, July 28, 2006
Writer's Block Friday
Hank Ballard Along With the Dapps - You're So Sexy
For some reason this morning I couldn't settle on a selection for today. I listened to Leon Huff's "I Ain't Jivin, I'm Jammin'," thought about following up on yesterday's Carla Thomas post with "The Honeydripper" by the Van-Dells (another record that Steve Cropper stole with his guitar work), and even considered risking my credibility by posting Shirley Ellis' "The Name Game" (which, although viewed as a novelty record and a staple of mainstream "oldies" radio, is a damn good Northern Soul record), but still was unsatisfied. Finally I settled on today's selection. Of course, it's a top-notch recording also, so it was last but definitely not least.
As I alluded in a prior post, when James Brown started out at King Records in 1956, Hank Ballard and The Midnighters were major hitmakers for the label with their raunchy "Annie" records ("Work With Me Annie," "Annie Had a Baby," "Annie's Aunt Fanny") and other great R&B gems (the original version of "The Twist" would come out two years later, and "Finger Poppin' Time" was still five years away). By the end of the '60s, however, Ballard's fame had waned significantly and, like Bill Doggett, James Brown had stepped in to help out. "You're So Sexy" is a hard-hitting piece of rock-oriented funk, with Ballard fronting the white band The Dapps, whose guitarist, "Fat Eddie" Setser (who was the subject of a James Brown-produced record by James Crawford and who is the "look at Fat Eddie, he's 300 pounds" reference in Charles Spurling's "Let Me Be (A Steppin' Soul)"), drives this record along with a strong rhythm. Ballard is exhibiting the wild looseness that sometimes put him on the wrong side of being in tune (this was particularly evident on the awesome "Butter Your Popcorn"), but it works for this number. The whole thing cooks like nobody's business, but I am particularly fond of the coda, where Hank and the band take the volume down and Hank starts chanting over a "chug-a-lug" groove that Fat Eddie lays down. Great stuff.
For some reason this morning I couldn't settle on a selection for today. I listened to Leon Huff's "I Ain't Jivin, I'm Jammin'," thought about following up on yesterday's Carla Thomas post with "The Honeydripper" by the Van-Dells (another record that Steve Cropper stole with his guitar work), and even considered risking my credibility by posting Shirley Ellis' "The Name Game" (which, although viewed as a novelty record and a staple of mainstream "oldies" radio, is a damn good Northern Soul record), but still was unsatisfied. Finally I settled on today's selection. Of course, it's a top-notch recording also, so it was last but definitely not least.
As I alluded in a prior post, when James Brown started out at King Records in 1956, Hank Ballard and The Midnighters were major hitmakers for the label with their raunchy "Annie" records ("Work With Me Annie," "Annie Had a Baby," "Annie's Aunt Fanny") and other great R&B gems (the original version of "The Twist" would come out two years later, and "Finger Poppin' Time" was still five years away). By the end of the '60s, however, Ballard's fame had waned significantly and, like Bill Doggett, James Brown had stepped in to help out. "You're So Sexy" is a hard-hitting piece of rock-oriented funk, with Ballard fronting the white band The Dapps, whose guitarist, "Fat Eddie" Setser (who was the subject of a James Brown-produced record by James Crawford and who is the "look at Fat Eddie, he's 300 pounds" reference in Charles Spurling's "Let Me Be (A Steppin' Soul)"), drives this record along with a strong rhythm. Ballard is exhibiting the wild looseness that sometimes put him on the wrong side of being in tune (this was particularly evident on the awesome "Butter Your Popcorn"), but it works for this number. The whole thing cooks like nobody's business, but I am particularly fond of the coda, where Hank and the band take the volume down and Hank starts chanting over a "chug-a-lug" groove that Fat Eddie lays down. Great stuff.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
The Memphis Queen (And a Wild Card)
Carla Thomas - I've Got No Time To Lose
Let's start with a straightforward declaration: Carla Thomas is my favorite female soul singer. Even if Carla hadn't have been instrumental in giving Stax Records, my fave label, its initial successes (by duetting with her father Rufus on "Cause I Love You," the first hit for the erstwhile Satellite label, and then cutting the major hit "Gee Whiz" (which she wrote) as her first solo single), this assessment would remain the same. Carla Thomas' vocals are a study in contradictions, sounding soulful yet erudite, youthful yet mature (I think it was Dave Godin that parsed the way she pronounced the word "sweetheart" as "sweet heart" in order to demonstrate her style; he was right). Whether singing a sweet ballad like "Gee Whiz," sassy fare like Otis & Carla's "Tramp," Hayes-Porter material like "B-A-B-Y," "Dime a Dozen" or my favorite, "Separation," or records featuring "raps" like "Guide Me Well," Carla wore the "Memphis Queen" moniker with style.
On "I've Got No Time To Lose," a 1964 Atlantic single (through 1965, Carla's records came out on Atlantic as part of the distribution agreement Stax and Atlantic had at the time), Carla takes the melody and works her contradictory magic with the help of some churchy backup singing (were the Drapels backing her on this?) and great accompaniment by the Stax regulars. One of the aforementioned "Stax regulars," Steve Cropper, nearly steals the show on this record, as his guitar work is nothing short of exquisite. From the pealing riff that opens the record and pushes the song along to the stinging lines that close out the verses, he darts in and out of the background to take the great ballad to that "next level" that so many great soul records reached.
Let's start with a straightforward declaration: Carla Thomas is my favorite female soul singer. Even if Carla hadn't have been instrumental in giving Stax Records, my fave label, its initial successes (by duetting with her father Rufus on "Cause I Love You," the first hit for the erstwhile Satellite label, and then cutting the major hit "Gee Whiz" (which she wrote) as her first solo single), this assessment would remain the same. Carla Thomas' vocals are a study in contradictions, sounding soulful yet erudite, youthful yet mature (I think it was Dave Godin that parsed the way she pronounced the word "sweetheart" as "sweet heart" in order to demonstrate her style; he was right). Whether singing a sweet ballad like "Gee Whiz," sassy fare like Otis & Carla's "Tramp," Hayes-Porter material like "B-A-B-Y," "Dime a Dozen" or my favorite, "Separation," or records featuring "raps" like "Guide Me Well," Carla wore the "Memphis Queen" moniker with style.
On "I've Got No Time To Lose," a 1964 Atlantic single (through 1965, Carla's records came out on Atlantic as part of the distribution agreement Stax and Atlantic had at the time), Carla takes the melody and works her contradictory magic with the help of some churchy backup singing (were the Drapels backing her on this?) and great accompaniment by the Stax regulars. One of the aforementioned "Stax regulars," Steve Cropper, nearly steals the show on this record, as his guitar work is nothing short of exquisite. From the pealing riff that opens the record and pushes the song along to the stinging lines that close out the verses, he darts in and out of the background to take the great ballad to that "next level" that so many great soul records reached.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
I'm Loving Me Some Don Covay!
Don Covay - Take This Hurt Off Me
After yesterday's post I realized that I also wanted to feature today's fine selection. After several years of recording on various labels, Don Covay's 1964 hit "Mercy, Mercy" ushered him into his most successful era. "Take This Hurt Off Me" was the follow-up to "Mercy" and naturally borrows from the earlier hit, but it's a very engaging tune with a relaxed groove and good singing from Covay, craggly falsetto overdubs and all. After "Mercy" and "Take This Hurt Off Me" Covay re-signed with Atlantic (who had released his very first solo 45, "Bip Bop Bip," under the name "Pretty Boy" back in 1957) and would stay with the label for the rest of the decade. (It should also be noted that future rock guitar legend Jimi Hendrix was one of Don Covay's Goodtimers at the time of the two Rosemart singles!)
After yesterday's post I realized that I also wanted to feature today's fine selection. After several years of recording on various labels, Don Covay's 1964 hit "Mercy, Mercy" ushered him into his most successful era. "Take This Hurt Off Me" was the follow-up to "Mercy" and naturally borrows from the earlier hit, but it's a very engaging tune with a relaxed groove and good singing from Covay, craggly falsetto overdubs and all. After "Mercy" and "Take This Hurt Off Me" Covay re-signed with Atlantic (who had released his very first solo 45, "Bip Bop Bip," under the name "Pretty Boy" back in 1957) and would stay with the label for the rest of the decade. (It should also be noted that future rock guitar legend Jimi Hendrix was one of Don Covay's Goodtimers at the time of the two Rosemart singles!)
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Gimme Some of Yours ...
Don Covay & The Jefferson Lemon Blues Band - Ice Cream Man (The Gimme Game)
Don Covay and his eccentric recordings have been the subject of a prior post, to which I refer you. For a few years in the late '60s and early '70s Covay fronted the "Jefferson Lemon Blues Band" on recordings for Atlantic and Janus. Although the best-known Jefferson Lemon Blues Band recording was the unusual but awesome Atlantic LP House of Blue Lights, which found Covay mixing some deep-in-the-Delta blues stylings with his more customary soul groove, he also recorded some hard-hitting soul and funk sides, most notably a version of "Sookie Sookie." Today's selection was the flip side of the bluesy Atlantic single "Black Woman." After a stinging blues guitar intro, "Ice Cream Man" starts off with a nice burbling groove over which Covay narrates the song's premise, but then moves into an aggressive climbing groove in which Covay turns a children's game into a not-so-veiled come-on. Despite the innuendos, and the craggly falsetto Covay uses for his overdubbed backgrounds (and what's with the "Popcorn! Ice cream! Candy!" during the mid-song vamp?), the record is a solid piece of get down, and by the time the horns are blasting at the end you shouldn't be able to sit still.
Don Covay and his eccentric recordings have been the subject of a prior post, to which I refer you. For a few years in the late '60s and early '70s Covay fronted the "Jefferson Lemon Blues Band" on recordings for Atlantic and Janus. Although the best-known Jefferson Lemon Blues Band recording was the unusual but awesome Atlantic LP House of Blue Lights, which found Covay mixing some deep-in-the-Delta blues stylings with his more customary soul groove, he also recorded some hard-hitting soul and funk sides, most notably a version of "Sookie Sookie." Today's selection was the flip side of the bluesy Atlantic single "Black Woman." After a stinging blues guitar intro, "Ice Cream Man" starts off with a nice burbling groove over which Covay narrates the song's premise, but then moves into an aggressive climbing groove in which Covay turns a children's game into a not-so-veiled come-on. Despite the innuendos, and the craggly falsetto Covay uses for his overdubbed backgrounds (and what's with the "Popcorn! Ice cream! Candy!" during the mid-song vamp?), the record is a solid piece of get down, and by the time the horns are blasting at the end you shouldn't be able to sit still.
Monday, July 24, 2006
What's a Better Way to Start a Monday?
Warren Lee - Climb the Ladder
Starting off the new week is a nice New Orleans dancer. I refer you to Larry Grogan's Funky 16 Corners article for all of the details about Warren Lee Taylor and his recordings for Ron, Nola, Deesu and other labels. "Climb the Ladder," released on Deesu in 1966, is a bouncy, cheerful dance record featuring fun lyrics by Lee over a nice Allen Toussaint groove. I should also note that the flip, "Ever Since I've Been Loving You," is as equally enjoyable.
Starting off the new week is a nice New Orleans dancer. I refer you to Larry Grogan's Funky 16 Corners article for all of the details about Warren Lee Taylor and his recordings for Ron, Nola, Deesu and other labels. "Climb the Ladder," released on Deesu in 1966, is a bouncy, cheerful dance record featuring fun lyrics by Lee over a nice Allen Toussaint groove. I should also note that the flip, "Ever Since I've Been Loving You," is as equally enjoyable.
Sunday, July 23, 2006
The Deepest Soul
The Dixie Nightingales - All I Need Is Some Sunshine In My Life
The gospel recordings on the short-lived Stax subsidiary Chalice, set up by Al Bell upon his arrival at the label, are an outstanding alchemy of good gospel singing and the excellent accompaniment provided by Booker T. & The M.G.'s and other Stax musicians, who were clearly at the top of their game at the time.
Today's selection was an unreleased Chalice recording that saw the light of day on one of the Volts of Stax comps and on Disturb My Soul, a compilation of Chalice recordings (released in the US on the Specialty CD Free at Last). Ollie Hoskins and the Dixie Nightingales were a popular Memphis group with a weekly radio broadcast on WDIA. The group had recorded for Nashboro until their departure from the label over their song "The Assassination" (Ernie Young felt that the group's lamentation over JFK's assassination, with no references to God or Jesus, was not a gospel song and refused, therefore, to release it). The song was released on Chalice, starting the Nightingales on a new chapter of their career, which culminated in the group's transformation into the secular group Ollie & The Nightingales ("I Got a Sure Thing") and the establishment of Ollie Hoskins (later "Ollie Nightingale") as one of the most intense male vocalists in soul music. "All I Need Is Some Sunshine in My Life," like "The Assassination," differs from other gospel songs of that time with its dark lyrics (although there is a sense that God will make things right, face it - Ollie's depressed here!) and smoky accompaniment. It's a favorite of mine.
The gospel recordings on the short-lived Stax subsidiary Chalice, set up by Al Bell upon his arrival at the label, are an outstanding alchemy of good gospel singing and the excellent accompaniment provided by Booker T. & The M.G.'s and other Stax musicians, who were clearly at the top of their game at the time.
Today's selection was an unreleased Chalice recording that saw the light of day on one of the Volts of Stax comps and on Disturb My Soul, a compilation of Chalice recordings (released in the US on the Specialty CD Free at Last). Ollie Hoskins and the Dixie Nightingales were a popular Memphis group with a weekly radio broadcast on WDIA. The group had recorded for Nashboro until their departure from the label over their song "The Assassination" (Ernie Young felt that the group's lamentation over JFK's assassination, with no references to God or Jesus, was not a gospel song and refused, therefore, to release it). The song was released on Chalice, starting the Nightingales on a new chapter of their career, which culminated in the group's transformation into the secular group Ollie & The Nightingales ("I Got a Sure Thing") and the establishment of Ollie Hoskins (later "Ollie Nightingale") as one of the most intense male vocalists in soul music. "All I Need Is Some Sunshine in My Life," like "The Assassination," differs from other gospel songs of that time with its dark lyrics (although there is a sense that God will make things right, face it - Ollie's depressed here!) and smoky accompaniment. It's a favorite of mine.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Soul Blues Saturday: From Chicago to Shreveport
Cicero Blake - Dip My Dipper
By the end of the '70s the R&B business has undergone major changes. At the largest level, the demise of most of the main R&B independent labels found many of the more regional-based artists (particularly those whose sounds appealed to Southerners) affiliating with labels like Columbia, which drove them toward disco and other incompatible styles. Only a few stalwart labels stayed the course, albeit operating on a much smaller scale than Stax, Hi, Invictus/Hot Wax, and others had operated. The Jackson, Mississippi label Malaco was at the forefront, and to the very day continues to record soul, blues and gospel in the more traditional styles. Stan Lewis' Jewel/Paula/Ronn setup was another Southern label that kept the flame going.
Today's selection was a Jewel release. Corey "Cicero" Blake was a Chicago soul singer whose talent was never appreciated, as he bounced around several Chicago imprints (Mar-V-Lus, Brainstorm, Brunswick) and others with no hits to show for the great recordings he left behind with them; the Brunswick material is particularly notorious, as it sat on the shelves for over twenty years! In the late '70s he recorded "Dip My Dipper," a salacious blues that became a signature tune. After a small-label release (I have the 45 but it's not with me so I can't recall the label's name), Stan Lewis picked it up for national distribution. The style of the recording is one that what would appear on many future sides. Next week these stylistic elements will be featured and discussed in further detail.
By the end of the '70s the R&B business has undergone major changes. At the largest level, the demise of most of the main R&B independent labels found many of the more regional-based artists (particularly those whose sounds appealed to Southerners) affiliating with labels like Columbia, which drove them toward disco and other incompatible styles. Only a few stalwart labels stayed the course, albeit operating on a much smaller scale than Stax, Hi, Invictus/Hot Wax, and others had operated. The Jackson, Mississippi label Malaco was at the forefront, and to the very day continues to record soul, blues and gospel in the more traditional styles. Stan Lewis' Jewel/Paula/Ronn setup was another Southern label that kept the flame going.
Today's selection was a Jewel release. Corey "Cicero" Blake was a Chicago soul singer whose talent was never appreciated, as he bounced around several Chicago imprints (Mar-V-Lus, Brainstorm, Brunswick) and others with no hits to show for the great recordings he left behind with them; the Brunswick material is particularly notorious, as it sat on the shelves for over twenty years! In the late '70s he recorded "Dip My Dipper," a salacious blues that became a signature tune. After a small-label release (I have the 45 but it's not with me so I can't recall the label's name), Stan Lewis picked it up for national distribution. The style of the recording is one that what would appear on many future sides. Next week these stylistic elements will be featured and discussed in further detail.
Friday, July 21, 2006
It's "R&B" Time: Second Set Tonight!
Look out tonight for the podcast of the second set! Tomorrow regular posting will resume with the second installment of the "Soul Blues Saturday" series.
(7:00 PM) - The second podcast is now online! See the playlist here!)
(7:00 PM) - The second podcast is now online! See the playlist here!)
Thursday, July 20, 2006
It's "R&B" Time: The First Podcast Is Online!
The first of two podcasts re-creating my "Rhythm & Booze" sets is now available from this blog, via RSS feed, or (hopefully by tomorrow) iTunes! The playlist appears in Monday's post. Enjoy!
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