Best Of 2013.

2013 was not only one of the most exceptional years for new music in recent memory, it also managed to be one of the most incredible and transformative years in my own adult life.  So much went down…a band came together; a band fell apart.  False friends showed their transparency and desperation; true friends were truer than ever before.  Dolly got a new job; I started teaching again…both of us finally finding the accolades and potential for upward mobility that we’d been working towards for such a long time.  I left behind the set of tunes I’d written for one band; I wrote and recorded a whole new album’s worth of material for another band a month later.  I started gardening; I found peace and meditation in the soil, in the earth, in my heart.  I went walking by myself every day in my neighborhood; I went hiking with family in my old stomping grounds, in the Colorado Rockies.  I mourned and cried and loved and laughed—as one always does simply because that’s the way it is—but it has been years since I’ve been able to look back upon the last twelve months at the end of their cycle, and feel so incredibly fulfilled.  Here’s a brief snapshot of what spoke to me musically during this wonderfully complex 365 days, stuff that I bumped on stereos from the Olympic Peninsula to the Continental Divide to right here at home, in Southwest Washington.  Love to all y’all out there…hope the end of 2013 finds you well, let’s keep it moving in 2014!

1.  Janelle Monae—“Electric Lady.”  Monae moves more directly into modern R&B with this release, but keeps in place her penchant for experimentalism and intricate lyrics, while guest stars like Erykah Badu, Miguel and Prince (!) liven up the mix with their own unique talents.  Certainly the record that I was awaiting most eagerly this year, and it did not disappoint.

2.  Elvis Costello & The Roots—“Wise Up Ghost.”  Bringing together the very best of what both artists do individually, this collaborative album works surprisingly well, with Costello’s dense, intellectual lyrics the perfect foil for The Roots’ expert, edgy musicianship.  There’s a sinister and smooth undertone to the sound they create together, and it’s fantastic.

3.  Los Amigos Invisibles—“Repeat After Me.”  The now-veteran disco-funk combo from Venezuela returns with another gem of a record, ranging in sound from Motown shuffles to Latin-funk-fusion to disco-funk-psychedelia.  Guitarist Jose Luis Pardo produces, and his instincts help the group to create what may very well be their best album yet.

4.  Jose James—“No Beginning No End.”  This album is so damn sexy it’ll make any couple lock up their doors and turn down the lights the minute it’s on the stereo.  Jose James’ voice is pure silk, while his grooves reinvent the whole jazzy neo-soul vibe, adding new elements to what had become a somewhat overplayed sound.  Subtle brilliance.

5.  Coultrain—“Jungle Mumbo Jumbo.”  Surreal, modern psychedelic soul from Coultrain, the mastermind behind The Hawthorne Headhunters.  Coultrain deals here in heavily spaced-out textures and tones, while his careening, caressing voice adds precise, soulful detail to each track.  A trip worth taking.

6.  Hiatus Kaiyote—“Tawk Tomahawk.”  One of the more interesting soul-based records I’ve heard in a while, from Australia’s Hiatus Kaiyote.  Somewhere in between Stepney’s Rotary Connection and D’Angelo, this group has a curious chemistry that somehow sounds retro and new all at the same time.

7.  Bilal—“A Love Surreal.”  Bilal pulls back on some of the more scattershot impulses of his previous “Airtight’s Revenge” to create a leaner, more focused variation on “Revenge’s” visionary expansiveness.  Bilal’s voice is still the greatest weapon in his musical arsenal, one of the most versatile vocal styles in all current music.  Mandatory listening.

8.  Charles Bradley—“Victim Of Love.”  Vintage retro-soul from NYC’s Daptone/Desco crew, fronted by long-time soul-singing pro Charles Bradley.  Bradley’s scratchy vocals ride atop the ‘60’s/’70’s-styled grooves in a beautiful, understated way that guarantees this record instant classic status.  Past and present merge; all that’s left is undiluted soul.

9.  Omar—“The Man.”  Omar is definitely the man.  This British soul artist has been making music for twenty years now, yet he remains woefully underrated, and if there’s any justice in the world, the fierce, heavy jazz-funk-latin-fusion of “The Man” will finally give him the exposure he deserves.  Don’t sleep on this—one of 2013’s least heard but best soul albums.

10.  Kendra Morris—“Mockingbird.”  I confess.  I am in love with this album and, by proxy, with Kendra Morris.  She takes what could be just another tired set of covers and makes songs heard ten thousand times sound completely rejuvenated, with her powerful vocals positively dominating each cut.  Maybe my favorite record this year.

11.  Black Milk—“No Poison No Paradise.”  For my money, this is the best thing producer/rapper Black Milk has done up to this point, and everything he’s done has been good.  Deeply soulful beat-craft that defies expectations by laying meaningful, heady lyrics amidst the already rich, hard-hitting soundscapes Black Milk is so adept at putting together.

12.  Daft Punk—“Random Access Memories.”  The most mainstream pop entry you’ll find on my year-end list, but I can’t front, this album is the biz.  From the ubiquitous radio smash “Get Lucky” to more interesting, less-played deep cuts like “Giorgio By Moroder” and “Lose Yourself To Dance,” this record is awesome, AND Nile Rogers plays guitar on it!

13.  William Onyeabor—“Who Is William Onyeabor?”  Dazzling, percussive, futuristic, funky electro from Nigeria’s William Onyeabor.  This music was all made in the late ‘70’s/early ‘80’s, but it stands apart from its time, as its singular combination of synths, drum machines and more traditional African musical elements is a whole separate genre unto itself.  Check it.

14.  Sly & The Family Stone—“Higher.”  This lavish, four-disc boxed set is a must for Sly fans, and offers rare and previously unreleased treasures among the many Sly classics that make up the bulk of the material.  One of the twentieth century’s most forward-thinking and influential artists, Sly gets the due he deserves with this career-spanning collection.

15.  Donny Hathaway—“Never My Love.”  A four-disc set devoted to Donny also.  The unreleased material here isn’t the greatest—Donny’s daughter Lalah has come forward saying as much, and I can see why she felt that stuff shouldn’t have been put out—but everything else here is crucial, and the full disc of alternate takes from the “Live!” sessions is stunning.

16.  Various Artists—“Purple Snow:  Forecasting The Minneapolis Sound.”  OK, so I’m cheating a bit with this last one—I have it but haven’t listened to it yet.  However, c’mon now…two discs of pre-Prince-breakthrough funk and soul grooves from Minneapolis circa the 1970’s?  You know this is gonna be amazing.

American Gypsy: "American Gypsy"

Weird psych-soul on the Cadet label.  American Gypsy was a group of ex-pats from the States, and they recorded this album in Holland in 1975.  There’s an interesting mix of styles at work on this LP, from the Gil Scott-Heron/Bill Withers-fashioned vocals of “Inside Out” and “Lady Eleanor” to the more spacy soul meditations of “10,000 Miles” and “Sweet Angel Eyes.”  As a band, American Gypsy reveals itself to be very versatile, as comfortable with heavy psych-rock as they are with clavinet-soaked funk, and they even dabble in ‘70’s prog rock a la Yes or ELP from time to time.  There’s little that one could criticize about this record musically; however, it leaves something to be desired thematically, as the relentless genre-bending makes for a less than coherent listen.  It’s as though they want to show all they know within this one record, and while creatively that may be an impressive goal, in the end it disrupts the focus and momentum, as the endless juxtapositions become more and more jarring with each song.  Still, anyone interested in multi-genre psych-funk exercises will want to investigate this, as it is, if nothing else, unique, and at the particular moments where the style combinations strike the right balance, it’s exhilarating.

Steve Grossman: "Some Shapes To Come"

Moody underground jazz from a group of musicians that would eventually form the band Stone Alliance, led here by saxophonist Steve Grossman.  This is a very cerebral record; Grossman was an alumni of Miles Davis’ electric-era incarnations, and the Miles influence is heavy, especially on tracks like “WBAI,” “Haresah” and “The Sixth Sense.”  Grossman has an expansive, wild tone to his sax playing that is a mix of John Coltrane and Joe Henderson, incorporating both the fearlessness of the former and the lyricism of the latter, while the musicians that back him on this set are all legends in their own right—Jan Hammer on keys and synths, Gene Perla on bass, Don Alias on drums and percussion.  The small quartet format of the unit prevents some of the more over-wrought leanings of the fusion sound from rearing their head, and instead these guys simmer menacingly and with purpose.  What makes this album stand out from the seemingly infinite amount of mid-‘70’s fusion releases is the bottom-heavy funk groove that underpins the best tracks, heard to greatest effect on the aptly titled break-beat favorite “Zulu Stomp.”  To be sure, this is heady stuff, and if fusion jazz isn’t your thing you may not be feeling this, but I personally love the searing, surrealistic soundscape that Grossman and company develop.  Inventive and intense.

Tom Brock: "I Love You More And More"

Man!  So difficult to find an OG press of this one anymore, I got super-lucky and found a lovely copy for far less than it usually sells for.  The question is, as per usual with rare records, does the rarity surpass the quality?  In this case, not at all.  This is a gorgeous, lush, ‘70’s soul masterpiece, produced by Brock’s friend and collaborator Barry White, although I like this more than a lot of White’s solo material from the same period.  It’s not nearly as over-the-top as Barry’s stuff could be, some of which verged on self-parody at its worst.  Instead, Tom Brock hits just the right balance between White’s ‘70’s cinematic funk romanticism and his own mellower tendencies, crafting the kind of funk-soul record that you just want to swim in, so sublimely groovy and layered is its foundation.  My favorite songs are the bouncy, hard-hitting title track, the smooth “Have A Nice Weekend Baby,” the confessional “Naked As The Day I Was Born,” and the optimistic, album-closing “If We Don’t Make It, Nobody Can.”  Do yourself a favor and search this one out, it has a staying power and accessibility that many other rare soul burners of its ilk can’t even come close to matching.

Hambone: "Big Fat Juicy Fun"

Big fat juicy fun indeed.  This was a “blind find” for me, as I had no idea what to expect when I picked it up.  It met my usual criteria for such purchases:  I’d never seen it for sale before, the release date and label (1981 and Salsoul, respectively) were on point, and it had an awesome cover (a woman stretched luxuriously across a bed, scantily clad, and sucking a lollipop, with stuffed animals all around her…umm…?).  I’m guessing Hambone must be a nickname for the session’s harmonica player (Fred Bluestone, an alias perhaps?), ‘cause there’s harmonica all over this record.  It doesn’t always work with the music, but for the most part it makes for an interesting and very different sort of listening experience, sometimes sounding like bluesy funk, other times sounding like Stevie Wonder’s discarded ‘70’s instrumentals.  The tracks are slamming, a mix of heavy boogie (“Hey Music Man,” “Hambone”) and laid-back, clavinet-laden modern soul (“Feelings,” “Win Or Lose,” “This Masquerade”).  In addition to all its other rather attractive era pedigrees, this LP has the bonus of having been produced by Tommy Stewart, who also manned the boards for the Spirit Of Atlanta album (see earlier post).  “Big Fat Juicy Fun” shows his same musical trademarks present but evolved to match the early ‘80’s milieu, deeply focused on that clubby, bubbling Atlanta disco-funk sound that he did so well.  On the whole, this is a goofy and entertaining funk session that I would recommend without reservation.

5 Stairsteps & Cubie: "Love's Happening"

Beautiful windy city soul by this young singing group, who would hit it big a couple of years later with the song “O-o-h Child.”  Curtis Mayfield produced this LP, and the same sound that he was crafting for the later Impressions material is in full effect here, including a redone version of the title track, which first appeared on the Impressions’ “This Is My Country.”  The 5 Stairsteps, led by their father Clarence Burke, Sr., aren’t the seasoned singers that the Impressions were—their ages ranging from 3 (that’s Cubie!) to 18—but they make up for it with raw, youthful enthusiasm and passion.  Mayfield also contributes some peculiar production touches, especially on the cover of “Love’s Happening,” which begins and ends with some trippy early synth effects.  Other gems are the strolling “Don’t Change Your Love” (with break-beat intro), the swinging “Stay Close To Me,” and the lovely, elevating “I’m The One Who Loves You.”  Every track on this LP, actually, is quality.  Further evidence not only of the genius of Curtis Mayfield (as if any further evidence was necessary), but also that the amount of explosive talent emerging from the late ‘60’s/early ‘70’s Chicago soul scene was endlessly vast.

Harold Mabern: "Greasy Kid Stuff!"

Yes!  My first OG Harold Mabern LP—long on my want list of Prestige label releases, but for whatever reason I never ran across any of his stuff until just recently.  I first became aware of pianist Harold Mabern through his work on numerous jazz and soul-jazz sessions from the late ‘60’s, and was always intrigued by the melodic, expressive flavor he brought to his playing.  Here he has an opportunity to let that flavor shine more brightly than ever before, and the sidemen he uses on this date are equally impressive—Lee Morgan, Idris Muhammad, Buster Williams, Hubert Laws, “Boogaloo” Joe Jones.  Morgan and Laws, in particular, are a horn section to be reckoned with, and Laws, mostly known for his skills as a flautist, takes off with some exemplary tenor sax playing throughout.  There’s a mix of styles that Mabern tackles, as was usually the case with Prestige LP’s from this time (1970), including the bumping soul-jazz-funk of the title track, the exquisite, shimmering ballad “I Haven’t Got Anything Better To Do,” and a seriously groovy rendition of the J5’s “I Want You Back,” which has a wonderfully bop-laced, lackadaisical trumpet solo by Lee Morgan.  Lazy morning jazz at its finest, cup of coffee in hand and troubles evaporating like so much condensation.

Sins Of Satan: "Thou Shalt Boogie Forever"

Oh, shalt we?  Doesn’t seem like such a terribly hellish proposition, and if this band is the soundtrack, said boogie will certainly be exceptional.  This is an odd, sublime piece of psychedelic disco-soul, with Ernie Isley-copping, distortion-plus-phase guitar solos, melodic chord progressions, and lavish, lascivious vocals.  No shock that this was recorded at Detroit’s United Sound studios—home to more classic recording sessions than there is room to mention here—and that storied locale’s beautiful sonic fingerprints are everywhere on “Boogie,” accenting the dope percussion breaks and jazz-meets-P-Funk vibe nicely.  My favorite tracks are the jazzy “Devils Disco,” the rhodes-and-guitar-soaked “How Would You Feel,” and the strutting-but-smooth “Rope-A-Dope.”  It’s a bit of a shame that this group decided to go with what was, in their time, a rather controversial band name and concept, as I’m sure it prevented them from whatever larger musical success they could have achieved.  This is a sleeper of a soul record, and not one you see in its original pressing often.  Don’t pass on it if you find one.

Simtec & Wylie: "Gettin' Over The Hump"

The kind of record I live for, dazed psychedelic funk-soul of the highest order, shaded in with fuzz guitars, breaks and the tandem Sam & Dave-influenced vocals of Simtec & Wylie.  Though this album was recorded in Chicago, it has more of a Southern soul sound to it, which I’m sure is at least partially due to the duo’s obvious hero worship of Sam & Dave.  The difference with Simtec & Wylie, however, is the wild lyrics—most evident on the tracks “Bootleggin’,” “Gotta Get Over The Hump” and “Put Up Or Shut Up”—a sort of lysergic, stream-of-consciousness soul vibe that has to be heard to be believed.  There’s also an odd, surprisingly heartfelt cover of Rod Stewart’s “Maggie May,” the fast paced distortion-plus-horns crackle of “Sold On You,” and the cautionary psych-gospel-soul of “You Just Can’t Win.”  While sometimes I feel that I might be talking about Chicago soul TOO often (clearly and as I’ve mentioned before, it’s a region and sound that I favor), how can I not when I continue to stumble across LP’s like this?  They’re too outstanding to ignore, and many, like this Simtec & Wylie effort, are undeservedly obscure.  Bringin’ that old-school psych-soul beat back is my mission, can’t stop won’t stop.

The Fabulous Counts: "Jan Jan"

Wow.  Didn’t think I’d ever find an OG copy of this, and for $5???  That’s an unbelievable price for this piece of jazz-funk-soul history.  I’ve read a few reviews of this LP that said it sounded too much like The Fabulous Counts were trying to imitate The Meters, but I don’t hear that at all.  The key difference is bandleader and primary songwriter Mose Davis, who plays stuff on the organ that Art Neville could never do; Davis sounds more like Jack McDuff than he does Booker T. Jones, and is audibly more studied in jazz than Neville.  The other difference is the grooves themselves; The Fabulous Counts have a firmly uptempo, tightened Detroit sensibility to their funk, and are pretty far from the stuttering, second-line pocket that The Meters concocted.  Taken on its own terms, this is such a fantastic record, reinforced with a handful of proto-jazz-funk covers of late ‘60’s standards, including “It’s A Man’s Man’s World,” “Hey Jude,” “Soulful Strut” and “Who’s Making Love.”  Then there are the originals, which are the true treasures of the set, among them the landmark title track (later covered by Grant Green), the spaced-organ-jazz of “The Bite,” the churning, driving “Dirty Red,” the exploratory modal funk of “The Other Thing,” and the exquisite, hallucinatory, break-heavy “Girl From Kenya.”  Two years after this LP, in 1971, The Fabulous Counts would rename themselves simply The Counts, and release the swirling funk psychedelia of “What’s Up Front That Counts.”  Yet with “Jan Jan,” they laid the foundation not just for their own future efforts, but for many other instrumental jazz and funk combos still searching for a sound to latch onto.  “Jan Jan” is a straight-up blueprint record, a strand of soul DNA that demands re-examination.

Mongo Santamaria: "Fuego"

While Mongo Santamaria is well-known for his contributions to Latin jazz and salsa, I would argue that his ‘70’s tenure as a funk pioneer is sorely overlooked, and even outright ignored.  Mongo made some of the best funk records I’ve ever heard—and you know I’ve heard more than a few—with “Fuego” being no exception.  The opener, “Crazy Lady,” is a dance-floor stunner, with what I think might be an uncredited vibes solo by Roy Ayers…no mention of vibes in the credits, but bassist William Allen is on this album, and he was an associate of Ayers at this time, so…?  The rest of the material ranges from equally funky (“Don’t Step On My Tears,” “Fingers”), to Latin-jazz-textured (“Springtime,” “Last Tango In Paris”), to Afro-Cuban (“Besame,” “Chambique,” “Malcolm X”).  The band is on fire throughout this LP, and the great, signature trend of having both Mongo’s congas and the drum-kit WAY up in the mix means that, if you have the bass on your stereo up, you may well end up with some blown speakers, to say nothing of your mind.  Next-level and without parallel.

Roy Ayers Ubiquity: "He's Coming"

One of the headiest, edgiest, funkiest LP’s in existence.  I really couldn’t believe my luck when I found an OG copy of this one for as cheap as I did ($12!), and since that purchase I can’t stop listening to it, though I’d heard it before I found the original and owned a reissue of it for years.  I’m not sure how I can add to the well-embedded discourse that’s already occurred regarding this record; it’s a classic, straight-up, but an underground classic.  Its hazy, thick, pre-hip-hop textures are the stuff of dreams; this is an album to get lost in.  Most famous is the track “We Live In Brooklyn Baby,” sampled infinitely by producers throughout the known universe and beyond, but there is so much more to “He’s Coming” than that one song.  There’s the laconic, revolutionary meditation “Ain’t Got Time” (one of Ayers’ most political grooves), the buoyant, percussive title track, the heavy jazz-funk of “Fire Weaver” (which Ayers also recorded with David “Fathead” Newman for Newman’s “Lonely Avenue” LP).  The sidemen chosen for this project are a crucial piece of the whole too; major names like Billy Cobham, Ron Carter and Sonny Fortune are all present, along with keyboardist Harry Whitaker, who, more than a sideman, was essentially Roy Ayers’ co-writer at this point, and a HUGE part of the sound of the early Ubiquity records.  This album was perhaps Ayers’ first fully realized funk opus, for while he had already ventured well into the funk-fusion genre by the time he released “He’s Coming,” he hadn’t quite had the moment where all his ambitions and stylistic blending had yet locked into place.  “He’s Coming” IS that moment, a record with such a wide-ranging and continued influence that its ripple effect is still being felt well into the 21^st century.

Father's Children: "Father's Children"

I first became aware of D.C. soul outfit Father’s Children through the archive release of their “Who’s Gonna Save The World” LP on the Numero label, music never issued when it was made in the early ‘70’s.  The “World” album was incredible, and so I knew I had to seek out the group’s self-titled LP from 1979, though I understood the sound of the band would be very different at that point, both because soul trends had changed drastically by the late ‘70’s and also because Wayne “Big Daddy” Henderson of The Crusaders produced the effort.  Henderson’s smooth behind-the-board touches are everywhere, but they actually fit quite well with the musical and vocal style of Father’s Children, both of which are inherently complex and layered.  There’s not a bad track here—there are P-Funk-flavored numbers (“Shine On,” “Dance Do It”), modern soul floor-fillers (“Hollywood Dreaming,” “Wild Woman”), and even jazz-fusion-tinged workouts (“Music Use It,” “You Can Get It”).  While it’s nowhere near as raw and edgy as their earlier “Who’s Gonna Save The World,” this “Father’s Children” LP on Mercury has its own sort of attraction, and the warmth of Henderson’s production allows the group’s evocative, unique sound to come through more clearly than ever.  Be on the lookout for this record, especially if you’re a boogie fan.

The Meters: "Look-Ka Py Py"

Well well well.  My first OG Meters LP from their years on the Josie label, so hen’s-teeth rare that I just about chicken-strutted my way out of that record store when I found it.  This is one of those albums that has been discovered, re-discovered and discovered again by generation upon generation of groove-seekers.  Quite simply, The Meters laid down the groundwork for nearly every instrumental funk outfit that was to follow, and while there were other bands carving out this territory—Booker T. & The MG’s, early Bar-Kay’s, the JB’s, early Kool & The Gang, The Nite-Liters—these four guys from New Orleans were always unique, and unlike all of the aforementioned groups, their economy had as much to do with that as anything else.  No big horn sections, no large arrangements, no falling in lockstep with the common idea of their time that, to be a funk band, you had to have at least nine or ten pieces—no, this was just organ, bass, guitar and drums, and it is still almost inconceivable how much sound they got out of such a tiny combo.  Another musical aspect that set them firmly apart from many of their peers is their distinctly NOLA rhythmic approach; this sort of loose, loping, shuffling beat that was slower than a great deal of the other funk music of the era, yet still burned with a relentless heat and intensity all its own.  As far as the songs themselves on this LP go, what even needs to be said?  Classics all, standouts being the title track, “Pungee,” “Yeah You’re Right,” “Funky Miracle,” “Dry Spell.”  Plainly stated, this is one of the best and most essential slabs of instrumental funk wax you’re likely to find, so cop it!