June/July 2012: Cadet, Ter-Mar Studios and the joy of music.

The summer is beginning to shape up nicely, as I sit here writing this on a gorgeous and archetypal June afternoon in the Pacific NW.  I decided it was finally time for me to address my obsession with all things related to the Chess/Cadet label, and it seemed to me that there was no more appropriate time in which to do so than now, as I stand on the verge of a return to Chicago, a city I have not seen since I was 13 years old but which has always weighed on my mind as a place of wonder, excitement, power, creativity.  When I saw it as a child just entering adolescence, it seemed so vast, so dense with possibility and danger.  This ignited fires in my young mind that I never knew existed before, this idea of a CITY in which anything and everything had potential, not the small-town city feel of my hometown in Omaha but a big, endless, urban wilderness that stretched out before me like some multi-faceted hydra constructed of steel, pavement and people.  I saw what I could in the short time my family was there—the Art Institute, the restaurants, the El trains, the skyline—but we of course had not even scratched the surface.

Years later and well into my ‘20’s, a similar felling of ignited fires took hold of me as I slowly and inexorably was drawn into the sound of the Cadet label circa ’65-’75, a sweeping, majestic, inimitable sound that absorbed music of the past while creating music of the future.  Jazz, funk, soul, blues, folk, rock, psychedelia…it was all there, sometimes on the same song even.  With arrangers Charles Stepney and Richard Evans working behind the scenes to establish this unique new sound, and with the warmth of Chicago’s Ter-Mar Studios serving as the primary setting for much of what transpired, the framework was created in which a whole new renaissance movement in the world of music would come to the fore.

Now, however, this period in the Chicago scene has become a mere footnote when it should be a novel unto itself (at least!), and so I am one of many who are working to revise what history has either overlooked and/or outright ignored.  This time out, loyal readers—CADET is what’s happening!!

The Ramsey Lewis Trio: "Another Voyage"

This was my first foray into the expansive world of Cadet, purchased years ago for $2 while I was a student at the Evergreen State College in Olympia, WA.  This album gave me a sense, even then, that there was a certain quality present in the recording sessions themselves that was extremely individualistic, and defiantly so.  Ramsey Lewis, of course, was already one of the Cadet label’s big stars by the time he made this masterful album, having charted such monster hits as “The In-Crowd” and “Wade In The Water,” songs that insured him employment and creative control with said label for as long as he wanted.  What makes this LP so crucial, however, is the presence of some very key players in the studio.  Charles Stepney manned the boards and did the arrangements, while Ramsey’s rhythm section of the period (Maurice White on drums and Cleveland Eaton on bass) drove the music in the direction of hard-hitting funk and R&B, with most of the jazzier elements confined to Lewis’ piano fills and solos.  The two-part “If You’ve Got It, Flaunt It” that bookends the record is a statement of purpose, a cooking funk-jazz number that sets the live-in-the-studio-party tone perfectly.  Other highlights are the pre-hip-hop-groove meditation on Stevie Wonder’s “My Cherie Amour” and the grooved-out, laid-back take on the Eddie Harris classic “Bold And Black.”  There are even moments that take clear, defined steps directly into R&B’s further evolution, such as Maurice White’s use of the kalimba on “Uhuru.”  The title of this LP—“Another Voyage”—seems deliberate and intentional on the part of Lewis, Stepney, White, etc…they were announcing the arrival of a new sound and a new generation, made even more potent by the presence of Lewis.  The man was a veteran of the scene, yes, but one willing to take chances and push his art in directions that many of his peers were afraid of, or simply didn’t understand.

Rotary Connection: "Songs"

Rotary Connection was Stepney’s answer, and challenge, to psychedelia.  As the late ‘60’s wore on and the music of many bands seemed to float even further out into the ether, Stepney used Rotary Connection as a vehicle for his feelings on the movement and the time period itself.  The sound contained within their albums ranged from placid, folky musings to acid-rock freakouts to hardcore R&B to early funk-fusion, all the while addressing the musical and cultural mutations that were occurring throughout the world in the swirling turbulence that was the second half of the 1960’s.  On “Songs,” Stepney speaks directly to certain musicians and bands by taking their songs and turning them inside out.  Employing the staggering, height-scaling, dove-tailing vocals of Minnie Riperton and the rich, worn, soulful voice of Sidney Barnes, Stepney takes such ‘60’s staples as “Respect,” “Sunshine Of Your Love,” “The Weight” and “Salt Of The Earth,” and molds them into creations all his own, often making the more famous composers and/or performers of the original tunes look rather tame by comparison.  Riperton is simply astonishing; anyone who is a fan but only knows her from her ‘70’s material MUST investigate her work with Rotary Connection, as she rocks harder and takes more risks than she ever would again.  She pushes her vocals to the brink many times over, displaying an edge and ferocity uncharacteristic in her later work.  The other star of this recording is the band, uncredited on the LP but likely made up of the usual Cadet studio suspects—Phil Upchurch, Pete Cosey, Cleveland Eaton, Maurice White, Morris Jennings.  The guitars are particularly crunchy, with Phil Upchurch in full-on heavy metal mode, taking on Hendrix, Page, Clapton, Townshend, etc., and winning.  Throughout this record there is a distinctly evident vibe, as there was on so many of the other Cadet projects from this time, allowing the listener to lose themselves and be overwhelmed (in a good way) by the stark beauty, sprung from deep inside the genius mind of Charles Stepney.

Minnie Riperton: "Come To My Garden"

A Cadet release in everything but name, put out by the GRT label, Cadet’s parent company.  The natural outgrowth of Stepney’s work with Rotary Connection was to collaborate on a Minnie solo album, although I was never sure why they only did this one together, as it was brilliant and certainly left the door open for future possibilities.  Another important piece of the puzzle was the involvement of Riperton’s husband Richard Rudolph, a long-time songwriting partner of Stepney’s for Rotary Connection and Riperton’s co-writer for the remainder of her career.  Rounding out the equation was the ’69-’70 version of the Ramsey Lewis Trio, the same one that recorded “Another Voyage” as discussed above.  Together these potentially disparate factors created vivid, breath-taking music, with my favorite moments found in the epic, symphonic-funk grandiosity of opener “Les Fleur,” the folk-jazz melancholy of “Rainy Day In Centerville,” and the Rudolph-penned title track.  Stepney and the Lewis trio crafted a musical backdrop for Minnie’s dazzling vocals that is now defined as “baroque soul” or “chamber soul,” but at that time had no terminology associated with it, as it was so completely and refreshingly new, the end result of which was (and still is) a wondrous, beautiful record.

Terry Callier: "Occasional Rain"

The flipside to the Stepney/Riperton collaborations was Stepney’s work with Terry Callier.  This meeting of the minds occurred right around the same time Minnie sought greener pastures on the Stevie Wonder-produced “Perfect Angel” LP, and greener pastures she did indeed find with the smash “Loving You.” Nothing that Callier did even approached that level of commercial success, but I’m not necessarily sure that’s what he was going for either.  Callier had a different history than Riperton in that he had been a songwriter on the Chicago scene for quite some time before his Cadet solo career, shopping material to the Dells, Jerry Butler, Rotary Connection, etc.  What Charles Stepney did with Callier was flesh out his sparse, folk-soul songwriting style and add textures and layers that didn’t inherently exist in the original creations.  Songs like “Ordinary Joe” and the segue-connectors “Go ‘Head On” practically leap out of the speakers with a joyful yet meditative bounce, the former in particular being a Callier anthem, all blues-shuffle-rhythm and eerie Stepney keyboards.  Then there are the distinctly Chicago-sounding, almost haunted ruminations that Stepney was so effective at, like “Do You Finally Need A Friend” and “Trance On Sedgewick Street.”  The album closes with the dramatic, tension-releasing “Lean On Me” (not the Bill Withers cut), followed by one final “Go ‘Head On” segment, leaving the listener with a sense of conceptual closure.  These Callier/Stepney records can be somewhat of an acquired taste for the uncertain, but anyone seriously interested in immersing themselves in the Cadet sound and era will need to check them out.

Dorothy Ashby: "The Rubaiyat Of Dorothy Ashby"

Wowie zowie.  Here it is.  Maybe the single rarest LP in my collection, though I’m not one hundred percent sure on that.  Certainly one of them.  Here we transition from the arrangements of Charles Stepney to those of bassist/arranger Richard Evans, a figure from Chicago who has received an equal amount of cult-like devotion in the era of “crate-digging as archaeology.”  Evans definitely has a different feel than Stepney—while still dramatic, his sensibility was also more exotic, a kind of world-music perspective considerably futuristic in its approach.  In working with Dorothy Ashby—the world’s foremost, and likely one of its only, jazz harpists—he found a kindred spirit, and met her challenge on creating a set of sounds to match Ashby’s near-spoken-word readings of the 11^th century Persian philosopher and intellectual Omar Khayyam.  Ashby doubles on harp and its distant relative the koto (from Japan), creating a hypnotic, mystical energy that swirls around the dense yet funky arrangements from Evans and the session band.  Her singing/speaking, while not revolutionary or technically versatile, fits the otherworldly vibe perfectly.  My favorite cuts are the opening “Myself When Young,” the dreamy, very ’60’s-sounding “Drink,” and the edgier, more forward-thinking acid-funk workout “The Moving Finger.”  I can see why this album is so rare now, along with Ashby’s other records…even in the unpredictable music business of the late ‘60’s/early ‘70’s, it is hard to imagine a specific market that would appreciate something so lovely and bizarre.

The Dells: "Love Is Blue"

My favorite vocal group after the Temptations.  There are many others—Delfonics, Stylistics, Dramatics, Futures, etc.—in the running for that position, but none that cut through to my soul quite like the Dells.  The group made a LOT of records, so it’s hard to pick just one, but when backed into a corner, “Love Is Blue” is the standout for me.  It encompasses everything from their radical re-interpretations of songs like “Dock Of The Bay” and “Whiter Shade Of Pale” to more classicist doo-wop numbers like a re-recording of their big hit “Oh What A Night” and the pleading “The Glory Of Love,” all, and once again, via Charles Stepney arrangements.  Anyone noticing the redundancy of the Stepney connection in this post is simply catching onto that same concept that I was blown away by when I first delved into this stuff a few years ago, that is, how enormously influential and omnipresent of an individual he really was.  The production by Bobby Miller on this LP is also notable, as he gets a live, visceral sound from the boards.  The Dells take all of this as an opportunity to showcase the very best of their sparkling harmonies and individual leads, making for their most exciting, and perhaps most lasting, LP.  One for the ages.

Jack McDuff: "The Heatin' System"

Brother Jack McDuff!!  He’s made it into a post before, with his ground-breaking “Moon Rapping” LP on Blue Note.  McDuff, in fact, recorded for so many different labels that his discography is fairly convoluted, yet his work for Cadet remains some of his best.  Originally from Champaign, IL, McDuff started out as a bassist but moved on to become one of the earlier jazz organists; in the wake of Jimmy Smith, yes, but years ahead of the late ‘60’s boom lurking on the horizon.  “Heatin’ System” strips away much of the arrangement and orchestration that McDuff had been saddled with on his recordings from this period (’72), and instead places the organ virtuoso in the instrumental company of Chicago and NYC royalty like Phil Upchurch, Sam Jones, Don Myrick (formerly of The Pharaohs, later of EWF), and Derf Walker, among others.  This LP is essentially one long, extended studio jam session, which, when played by musicians like this, means it’s gonna be a helluva ride.  Highlights are the title cut, which moves from swing to soul-jazz to horn-driven funk in the length of its 12+ minutes, as well as the propulsive “Pressure Gauge” and the almost avant-garde, fusion-esque “Radiation.”  In addition to the great organ playing of Brother Jack, there is the jazzy, pocket bass of Phil Upchurch throughout the album, too, for the fanatics out there.  Umm…yeah…I’m one of those Upchurch obsessives, you picked up on that yet?  More on that very, very soon.

Phil Upchurch: "Upchurch"

Told you.  This isn’t Upchurch’s debut, as some believe—he had done “You Can’t Sit Down” and “Feeling Blue” before this—but definitely the signifier of his arrival as a guitarist to be reckoned with.  More Stepney arrangements to build the musical scaffolding, and in fact, the liner notes talk about Stepney’s writing and arranging of opener “Black Gold” (later transformed into Rotary Connection’s timeless “I Am The Black Gold Of The Sun), in which he backs Upchurch with a 36-piece (!!!) band.  Phil also takes on then-contemporary material like “America” and, most daringly, “Crosstown Traffic” and “Voodoo Chile (Slight Return).”  This version of “Voodoo Chile,” in particular, rivals the Hendrix original for sheer force, intensity and distorted guitar grunginess, at the same time making the rhythm section funkier, adding an uptown soul backdrop that complicates AND complements the guitar.  As for Phil Upchurch, he continued to do all kinds of solo and session projects after he made this record, but he never played with such a tense, terse, monstrous tone ever again.

Shades Of Brown: "S.O.B."

Had this on the want-list for five years, and it finally came ‘round.  One of the holy grails of vocal group soul, for sure.  The music is in a Chicago groove, but there is also a heavy Motown influence, which wasn’t necessarily common on other Cadet releases from this time.  Charles Stepney and Richard Evans were both involved with this LP, so it’s hard to say who was going for the Motown vibe, much less why, although it was the early ‘70’s and thus a potential commercial goldmine.  The Motown-sounding style can be found on cuts like “Lie #2” and “Ho-Hum World,” though there are other musical paths explored as well, such as the James-Brown-on-speed intro “Lite Y’all Up,” the brassy blues of “Man’s Worst Enemy,” the surprisingly rural break-beat longing of “The Soil I Tilled For You,” and the political funk track “Garbage Man.”  The Shades Of Brown, as a group, come through wonderfully, definitely taking a page out of the Dells’ playbook but also reveling in the electricity of their own youth and enthusiasm.  It’s the rare group soul album that is both funky and tasteful all at once.

Salinas: "Atlantis"

This album by Daniel Salinas is a somewhat out-of-place curiosity in the context of all the other music discussed in this post.  I believe this was originally recorded and released in Brazil, then picked up by Cadet in the States for some unknown reason.  Judging from its rarity, it couldn’t have been a smash hit.  Salinas was clearly trying to cash in on the money being made by another Brazilian arranger/keyboardist, Eumir Deodato, who in the early ‘70’s was riding the wave of his massively popular first two LP’s for the CTI label, “Prelude” and “Deodato 2.”  Salinas even tries to beat the man at his own game by recording an alternate version of Deodato’s biggest hit, his cover of “Also Sprach Zarathustra,” recast by Salinas as “Straussmania.”  It is absolutely the album’s hardest-hitting cut, with a neck-breaking rhodes/bass-line intro and lots of quick, in-the-pocket b-boy-style breaks.  Other points of interest are the more traditional Brazilian groove of “Baiao,” the strange take on “Bridge Over Troubled Water” that starts out decidedly MOR but then moves into more pronounced funk territory, and the closing cover of Donovan’s “Atlantis” which gives the LP its namesake.  One of the things that makes this such a fantastic record is the fat, thick, bass-centric production, turning what could have been an overblown fluff piece lost in its own orchestrations into a no-holds-barred chunk of funk that, in its best moments, tops other more famous projects of this nature.

Eddie Fisher: "Eddie Fisher & The Next One Hundred Years"

Not recorded in Chicago…instead stirred up and conjured in Archway Studios in St. Louis, with production help from “main man” Oliver Sain.  The groove is raw, lowdown, ominous…it’s what Grant Green might sound like as filtered through wah wah pedals, distortion, and backed up by The Counts, circa their Westbound tenure.  Guitarist Eddie Fisher had done an earlier album for Cadet called “The Third Cup,” a tribute to bandleader Leo Gooden that, while demonstrating some of his capacity for fringe experimentalism, suggested little of this gritty, small-band masterpiece.  Key tracks are the fuzzed-out “Either Or,” the Meters-meets-swing-fusion of “Another Episode,” and the long, drifting, movement-oriented “Beautiful Things,” which features an unnamed violin player taking Fisher and his group into a distant, hazy psychedelia that slowly morphs into a stomping funk throw-down.  The set closes with “East St. Louis Blues,” blues maybe but more accurately described as swampy funk.  This is the kind of session where you can practically smell the smoke in the studio, hear the conversation in between takes, imagine yourself there and as one of the players.  An intimate, late-night record that immerses the listener completely in its energy.

Muddy Waters: "After The Rain"

Gotta wrap it up with some blues, although we’re talking some very Cadet-style blues here.  This is the sequel to Muddy’s lauded and or derided (depending on who you’re talking to) “Electric Mud,” and the sound here is even more confrontational, more abstract, more metallic.  There are some more traditional blues numbers to be found amidst the madness—“Rollin’ And Tumblin’,” “Hurtin’ Soul,” “Screamin’ And Cryin’,”—but there are some sub-Stooges garage freakouts too, like “Bottom Of The Sea” and especially “Ramblin’ Mind,” which sounds like it was recorded inside of a tin can, the whole band scraping against the jagged, cheap metal within, frantically demanding to break free.  Yet another Chicago dream team forms the nucleus of the group, with Phil Upchurch and Pete Cosey on guitars, Otis Spann on piano, Louis Satterfield on bass, Morris Jennings on drums, and—who do you think I’m gonna say—Charles Stepney on organ.  This is primal, gut-level, gut-wrenching stuff that is only beginning to find its audience in our 21^st century chaos.  The blues…prescient as ever.