Dec 30, 2014

Best Of 2014.

What a year.  I often feel, when I write these year-end wrap-ups, that I’m bemoaning the bitter depths of the past twelve months, wallowing in the valleys and not paying enough attention to the peaks.  This year, though, the view from the mountaintop was fairly consistent, due mostly to me finally finding full-time, contracted employment as a teacher, as well as some self-recognition of hard-won, long-sought inner peace.  There are always places and goals to move onward and upward towards, obviously, and that hasn’t changed for me…my hustle and grind is as strong as ever.  I’m not one to rest on my laurels, meager though they may be, but there’s no problem taking in the view once in a while.  What I mean to say by all this, I suppose, is that things are good—great, even, something I rarely like to say out loud because of my irrationally Irish melancholic fears—and I’m quite eager to see what happens from here.  All thanks go to my wife Dolly, who I’d be who-knows-where without.  Stay up, stay positive, and stay close to the truest souls around you.  They will never let you down.

In no particular order, here are my picks for the best records that were released this year…
 1.  Curtis Harding—“Soul Power.”  Part of the retro-soul revival in a sort of peripheral sense, I suppose, but Harding does his own thing with that sound.  He has a bit more of a rock flavor to his songwriting, and thus avoids the pitfalls of being a sound-alike to acts like Sharon Jones and The Dap-Kings.  Edgy and different.
2.  St. Vincent—“St.Vincent.”  St. Vincent has been on my radar for a couple of years, but this is the first album of hers I bought, and wow.  I was not disappointed.  Great songwriting and vocals alongside experimental sonics, wildly distorted guitars, and even a touch of funk here and there.  Shockingly brilliant.
3.  Ghostface Killah—“36 Seasons.”  The Wu-Tang Clan’s most consistent solo artist is back again, this time with a concept album and a live band (The Revelations).  I dig Ghostface as always, but the live sound is what really did it for me.  The Revelations are well-named, and provide GK with just the right kind of gritty soul and funk background over which to drop his astounding, acerbic rhymes.  True school hip-hop, in an era where the term hip-hop has nearly lost its meaning altogether.
4.  Prince—“Art Official Age.”  The Purple One made yet another comeback this year.  How many has he had?  5?  10?  I’ve lost track, and it doesn’t matter anyway.  The only difference for me is that “Art Official Age” is easily his most high-quality release in ages, at least since “3121,” and possibly since “Diamonds And Pearls” (an album which “Age” frequently resembles from time to time).  Prince’s songwriting is at its pop-savvy, genre-bending best, and though the “concept” of the LP is a bit flimsy, it certainly forced him to push his already-out-there creative boundaries.  Perhaps not the kind of comeback that some expected, but when has Prince ever danced to the beat of a drum other than his own?  Quite frankly, that aspect of his personality is one of my favorite things about the guy.
5.  The Roots—“...And Then You Shoot Your Cousin."  If you’ve followed The Roots’ career from their early days up until now, the band that made “Organix” over twenty years ago is practically unrecognizable from the one that made this album.  The group, and Questlove in particular, have been on a rather dark journey over their past few records, mirroring the rather dark world we currently live in.  “Cousin” is more of the same, with very little optimism and quite a bit of venom, which is interesting when considering these guys are one of the most popular and likeable bands on late night TV.  For me, I respect immensely that, on the one hand, they can be a dynamite and upbeat media sensation, but on the other, that they will always stay vehemently true to their creative vision on wax.  Even though it’s not always an easy listen, The Roots haven’t lost me yet with their artistry, and probably never will.
6.  Jesse Boykins III—“Love Apparatus."  There are few pleasures as exquisite as swimming in a sonic sea of smooth R&B, and Jesse Boykins III has smoothness to spare.  Even on the moments where he stretches the groove’s musical possibilities and goes further towards the fringe, the smoothness is still there.  His voice is a subtle instrument that croons and caresses the lyrics, which have their own quirky strangeness about them.  If you dig the sound of modern soul and neo-soul, this is for you.
7.  Jose James—“While You Were Sleeping."  Easily the best underground soul artist in the game right now.  Here, Jose James takes the seductive foundation he built with last year’s “No Beginning No End,” and adds a heavier, almost Hendrix-esque psych-soul vibe to the mix, with the results being a head-nodding, hypnotic feast of an album.  Always looking forward to what’s next from this cat.
8.  Takuya Kuroda—“Rising Son.”  While we’re on the subject of Jose James, it’s worth noting that he produced this shimmering jazz-funk-fusion album for trumpeter Takuya Kuroda, only further proving the case for his depth and versatility.  James mans the studio controls here with the same kind of warmth and bass-heavy vibe he uses on his own material, and it benefits the whole in spectacular fashion.  Meanwhile, Kuroda has a smooth, fluid, lyrical tone that has to be heard to be believed, and even covers a couple of Roy Ayers jazz-funk classics, featuring James himself on lead vocals for “Everybody Loves The Sunshine.”  Music like this proves that jazz is alive, well, and in good hands, contrary to some contemporary narratives mourning its disappearance.  You just have to know where to look.
9.  Paolo Nutini—“Caustic Love.”  Not since the days of the Average White Band has Scotland produced such a fine, authentically gritty blue-eyed soul and funk act.  Hard-edged, rockish soul-funk that keeps the momentum going all the way through the record, with great raspy vocals from Nutini.  A left-field treasure.
10.  The Budos Band—“Burnt Offering.”  The Budos Band returns with more of its trademark Afro-Beat, except that this time around, they’ve been listening to more Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin than Fela.  The group gets very hallucinogenic on this release, and slams heavy metal guitar and bass atop its roiling, percussive backdrop, making for a welcome and surprising creative leap forward from their tried-and-true sound.
11.  Big K.R.I.T.—“Cadillactica."  The last major-label Big K.R.I.T. album left me cold, and wondering what all the fuss was about.  Well, this one left no questions in my mind.  Southern hip-hop at its finest, still gut-level and street-level, but with a meditative, thoughtful, pensive outlook that does sound a bit like a throwback to the halcyon days of OutKast.  Outa-space, soul-driven grooves well worth checking out.
12.  Theo Croker—“Afro-Physicist.”  More dope modern jazz and jazz-funk from a thoroughly modern trumpeter, although, believe it or not, I think I like this one even better than the Takuya Kuroda album.  Croker’s a more technically gifted and versatile player, and when he does funk and fusion, he rocks a whole lot harder.  All that, plus he does an impossibly lovely trumpet-and-vibes cover of one of my all-time Stevie Wonder deep cuts, “Visions.”  The rare fusion-styled record that wears its funk credentials on its sleeve while sacrificing none of its jazz credibility, evidenced by the fact that the whole project was produced by collaborative partner and jazz legend Dee Dee Bridgewater.  Spectacular.
13.  Lee Fields—“Emma Jean."  Lee Fields continues to evolve and build upon his core sound with this release.  The hard funk and retro-soul of his previous records is here, but there is also a slow-burn balladry that is absolutely breathtaking, a new hybrid of sorts.  Possibly my favorite so far from this latter-day renaissance man.
14.  D’Angelo And The Vanguard—“Black Messiah.”  Speaking of renaissance men.  D’Angelo dropped this LP as a surprise, last-minute release at the end of the year, and for me anyway, it did not disappoint.  He should have included a lyric sheet with the physical release, as his vocals are impenetrably garbled on every track, but it almost adds to the mystery of the project, literally fourteen years in the making.  The music is unbelievable, trading in influences from Sly to Badu to Prince, but always following D’Angelo’s own unique, enigmatic muse.  This album puts me in a trance-like state when I listen to it, and in the storied tradition of many other classic “grower” records, presents something new each time I hear it.  Dense, layered, next-level funk.
15.  Kelis—“Food.”  I love love LOVE this record…definitely my personal favorite of 2014.  Who knew that Kelis of “Milkshakes” and “Bossy” fame had an LP like this in her?  Written on the heels of her breakup with Nas, Kelis and TV On The Radio’s Dave Sitek crafted something indescribable, which sparkles with its songwriting, lyricism, and use of a live band.  Kelis’ vocals drive the message and the music home, and though you can hear the hurt in her voice, you can also hear the resolve.  This album struck me in the way that a Beatles or a Funkadelic record might; it’s on that level.  Truly a masterpiece.
16.  Various Artists—“I'm Just Like You:  Sly's Stone Flower."  A fascinating document of Sly’s early experiments with the Rhythm King drum machine, tried out with various artists and on his own.  This material is the missing link between the “Stand!” and “There’s A Riot Goin’ On” albums, which in and of itself makes it necessary from a historical standpoint.  The fact, however, that the quality of the songs is so high reveals something more crucial, that is, that Sly’s creativity during this period was as fertile and innovative as ever.
17.  Bob Dylan & The Band—“The Complete Basement Tapes."  An insanely dense treasure trove compiling “all” of the legendary Basement Tapes sessions (how are we ever really going to know if they found them all?).  Everything and the kitchen sink (almost literally) is on this, from Dylan and The Band goofing around on old standards and throwaway originals, to the presence of all-time classics, most of which were first recorded  by other artists, but can be heard here in all their rugged, ethereal glory.  Definitely not for the fair-weather follower, but any true Dylan fanatic will need this.
18.  The J.B.'s—“These Are The J.B.'s."  I must say I found it a bit disingenuous that this was advertised as a completely “new” album, as the title track and “The Grunt” both appeared on the “Food For Thought” LP, albeit in edited form.  However, the previously unreleased jams are indeed worthy, and show a snapshot of the Bootsy Collins-led JB’s in peak form, leading the listener to wonder what might have been had this particular incarnation of the band not disintegrated.

Mar 2, 2014

Pete Jolly: "Seasons"

An album that sounds for all the world like early electronica, ten to twenty years before its time.  Pete Jolly’s reputation as a jazz pianist was long solidified by the time he made this record, a deliberately experimental attempt at capturing the electric piano/early synth zeitgeist in its infancy…and what an attempt.  Jolly plays piano, Wurlitzer, Musette, Sano Vox, Hammond B-3 and even accordion, on what is a very contemplative, zoned-out set of mellow yet grooving jazz.  “Plummer Park” is likely the funkiest track here in the break sense, but this album actually works better taken as a whole, as piecing it apart cut by cut detracts from what is meant to be a seamless, full-LP listening experience.  Each song flows smoothly into the next, and the other musicians that accompany Jolly (including Paul Humphrey, Milt Holland and Emil Richards) feed symbiotically off of the shifting moods and spontaneity.  This music is extremely fertile ground for sample-heads seeking loops, as it presents a fairly limitless set of possibilities to the modern beat producer, but do yourself a favor and rock this LP in its entirety the first time you hear it.  Sublime waves of shade, texture and sound await.

King Hannibal: "Truth"

Gritty funk heaviness from King Hannibal AKA The Mighty Hannibal, who, sadly, passed away this last month.  Hannibal’s larger-than-life performance aesthetic, combined with his willingness to address social issues in many of his songs, make him an important figure in the history of soul and funk, and make his a legacy worth examining.  This album, which he cut for the Aware label in 1973 under the “King” Hannibal moniker, is his sole long-playing effort, with the rest of his material being released in the 45/singles format.  Adding to Hannibal’s already formidable presence are other great, underground funk names like Lee Moses (anybody who’s got a line on his “Time And Place” LP hit me up ASAP) and Herman Hitson on grungy guitars.  At times the music drifts into mellow Southern soul, and at other times it’s full-on funk-rock more indebted to Funkadelic, but even on the slower numbers, the psych-fuzz guitars wash over everything, leaving a delightfully hazy gauze perched atop the simmering rhythms.  My choice tracks are the funk stormers—“I Got That Will,” “The Truth Shall Make You Free,” “Wake Up”—but I also dig the dreamy psych-soul of “Party Life,” and the dark, desolate gospel-blues meditation “Hymn No. 5.”  It’s a shame Hannibal only ever got around to releasing this one complete record; to listen to it, he surely had many more like it waiting in the wings.  Thank goodness he did this one, though.

The Emotions: "Untouched"

One of those albums that becomes more and more elusive as the years go by; once a forgotten relic from the Stax/Volt empire, now forever sought after for the frequently sampled “Blind Alley.”  This early Emotions material is fantastic—before Maurice White/Charles Stepney/EWF came in and polished up the group’s sound, sacrificing some of their trademark gospel grit in the process—and this LP certainly represents the peak of their Volt tenure.  Isaac Hayes, David Porter and Don Davis produced, and with The Movement and The Bar-Kays in the rhythm section, you know this stuff hits on all cylinders.  There’s the sweet soul of “Take Me Back” and “Tricks Were Made For Kids” (the latter of which sounds like it could have been recorded in Philly and not Memphis), the raucous funk of “Blind Alley” and “Boss Love Maker,” the off-kilter, odd-time “Love Ain’t Easy One-Sided,” and the proto-modern-soul stroll “If You Think It (You May As Well Do It).”  The Emotions’ powerful, churchy vocals hold sway over the surroundings, and work in tandem to drive their positive soul message home.  Though they were still years away from monster hits like “Best Of My Love,” The Emotions were already experts at their craft, even at this early stage.

Eddie Russ: "See The Light"

This is a severely underrated LP.  Eddie Russ is a jazz keyboardist with an inclination towards the heavy funk, and on this album more than any other, his ambition and influences coalesce into a Herbie Hancock- or George Duke-level jazz-funk-synth masterpiece.  Beginning with a cover of Earth, Wind & Fire’s classic “See The Light,” Russ springboards from there and doesn’t let up, grooving in an uptempo funk-fusion mode that almost borders on disco at points, but not in a bad way.  My personal favorite track here is the slinky, laid-back, almost P-Funk-esque “Poko Nose”—by far the hardest funk groove on the record—and I also love the breezy, melodic “Tomorrow Is Another Day” and the Latin-infused “Zaius.”  Eddie Russ gets wild tones out of his keyboards on every tune, and offers up a versatility and experimentalism often associated exclusively with the widely-recognized “greats” of the instrument.  This music elevates Russ to pantheon status, and puts him in the company of the aforementioned Hancock and Duke, as well as such heralded electronic funk pioneers as Lonnie Liston Smith and Bernie Worrell.  Find this.

The Fatback Band: "People Music"

A live-in-the-studio funk jam released as an LP, and all the better for it.  I have to admit, I didn’t gravitate towards The Fatback Band’s music the first time I heard it—even their earliest, rawest stuff had this proto-disco underpinning that wasn’t my thang—and so I passed on their records for years.  Yet over time, I’ve gained a respect for both the group’s prolific nature (SO many Fatback albums out there), and for their unique approach to the funk.  That being said, this LP is definitely one of their heaviest funk outings, and more in my wheelhouse as far as the kind of earthy funk I prefer goes.  Every track here echoes the ambiance of a smoke-filled studio in NYC (Fatback’s home turf) on a Saturday night, with the band just getting down as they please, trying all sorts of grooves on for size, and succeeding with each one.  Highlights are the dancefloor-driven “Njia Walk (Street Walk),” the band’s musical statement of purpose “Fatbackin’,” the slow-burning, spacy “Baby Doll,” and my personal favorite cut from the LP, the outstanding, b-boy-breaking “Kiba.”  This was an exciting time for East Coast rhythm evolution, as the Latin sounds of Spanish Harlem collided head-on with James Brown-style funk, begetting in the process a style that would eventually be called “disco,” with The Fatback Band being at the very forefront of the new wave.

Ray Barretto: "The Other Road"

The cover is what first grabbed me about this record, with “the other road” referenced in the title leading to some sort of futuristic, Oz-like city, set against a mountain sunset.  Add to that the fact that this was released at the moment in time when master conguero Ray Barretto was starting to blend his Latin styles with funk grooves and vice versa, well…obviously, this became a must-locate item for me instantly.  Straight out the gate, you hear the Latin-funk-fusion “smack!” of Billy Cobham’s fatback drums, and you know you’re in for a total audio experience.  The crystal-clear production spotlights Barretto’s congas and the cascading keyboards of Eddy Martinez beautifully throughout, with highlights along the way being the classic Latin jazz title track; a percussive yet lyrical take on Thelonious Monk’s “Round Midnight”; Latin funk fiesta “Lucretia The Cat”; the deeply spiritual, ruminative “Oracion (The Prayer).”  Ray Barretto says about this album in the liner notes, “this is the source of pride for me, that we LATINOS got together and played some jazz.”  The group here doesn't just play—they re-invent.