December 2022

It makes sense that I abandoned this project in the Winter of 2016.  It was the end of one era and the beginning of another; the beginning of the United States being run by a sadistic, narcissistic, insecure madman…a dimestore antichrist.  Here we are six years later, somehow.  Still existing, still clinging to democracy, still clawing away at the sociopathic specter of white supremacy, even as it writhes and screams and gathers its ammunition in rural warehouses.  Still fighting and still standing.  And of course, still listening to dope records.  What are revolutionary resolve and community organizing without a soundtrack?

Willie Wright: “Lack Of Education”

I truly don’t know where to begin in approaching this magnificent yet inscrutable work of art.  It is unconventional in every sense, from the curious title to the private press label it was released on; from the spare instrumentation to the fact that most of the tracks are covers that are nearly unidentifiable from their original incarnations. 

 

That last aspect is particularly significant, and definitive in creating a singular space for Wright’s music to live and breathe and thrive.  We’ve all heard loads of versions of Harrison’s “Here Comes The Sun”, likewise “Something” and James Taylor’s “Fire And Rain”, but we’ve never heard them like this, and we never will again.  There’s also the dynamically funky-but-still-minimalist reading of Sly’s “Thank You”, yet another song which is difficult to bring anything new to due to countless renditions, and yet another groove that Willie somehow manages to make completely his own.  This is to say nothing of his originals, which have a crystalline, fragile beauty to them that both confounds and envelops the senses, tied together by the impossibly exquisite warmth of a voice and writing style that, while certainly drawn in part from other sources, occupies its own sphere entirely.

 

Tags like “folk-soul” are easy to throw around now, and like any genre name are essentially meaningless in the face of experiencing music holistically, but that’s probably as close as one can get to categorizing this, inadequate as such attempts may be.  This is one of the most brilliant LP’s I’ve ever heard; no small praise from someone who’s spent a lifetime listening to melodic shamans and rhythmic conjurers.  An audio journey with roots in the earth and branches way, way out in the stratosphere.

Trees: "On The Shore"

Most of what I’ve read about the band Trees is a bit dismissive, in the sense they’re often described as a sort of cut-rate Fairport Convention.  While I understand the comparison, I think it sells them more than a bit short.  Sure, Celia Humphris isn’t Sandy Denny, and nobody on earth is Richard Thompson, but just because they’re both folk-rock groups drawing from traditional tunes doesn’t mean they’re necessarily in competition.  Trees carve out their own space, playing a bit looser and freer than Fairport, while still being able to deliver stomping riffs and doomsaying lyrics when the occasion calls for it.  They completely transform trad material like “Polly On The Shore” and “Geordie”, while also contributing worthwhile originals in “Murdoch” and “While The Iron Is Hot”.  Really a fantastic record, and woefully under the radar considering its strengths.  Final thought: the front and back cover of this LP are extremely creepy—haunting, even—and they may or may not stalk my nightmares. 

Gilberto Gil: "Cerebro Eletronico"

Electric brains and melted minds.  “The feedback’s getting thicker/just some liquid mutant fuzz”…I had other folks in mind when I wrote those lines in one of my songs years ago…Lou Reed, Larry Graham, Eddie Hazel, Bootsy Collins…but they might as well have been written about Lanny Gordin, Tropicalia’s resident axe-shredder and one of the most brilliant guitarists most people have never heard of.  He elevates this LP like every record he plays on, contributing sounds that are more like interplanetary transmissions in coded extraterrestrial language than anything related to more conventional six-string solo stylings.  Combine that with Gilberto Gil’s effervescent virtuosity and Rogerio Duprat’s heady, retro-meets-future arrangements, and you have an authentically tripped-out psychedelic masterpiece.  It is remarkable to think that this was recorded after Gil had already been imprisoned by the Brazilian government, and was facing imminent exile besides, as his ebullient, joyful persona seems undimmed by such trauma.  There is not so much a darkness here as a yearning for another world, inimitably represented by Duprat’s still-astonishing experimental production.  The Beatles, Hendrix, Funkadelic…not even in their wildest lysergic daydreams could they have concocted a work of art this strange, or surreal.

Aktion: "Celebration"

Hot hot Afro-Psych heat on Ben Okonkwo’s Clover Sound label.  Aktion started out as The Action 13, recording some highly sought-after 45’s in Nigeria in the early ‘70’s.  They later shortened their name, and dropped two absolutely monstrous LP’s—“Groove The Funk” and “Celebration”, which actually reprises the title track from the previous album in a slower, stonier fashion.  Full of fuzz guitar, trippy organ and raw synth, this is a nonstop jam, and even when it slows down, the heady atmosphere remains.  I’m especially partial to the title track, the hazy funk bounce of “Let’s Be Free”, the fusion-gone-JB’s “Centepede”, and the heavy psych vibes of “Love”.  Massive stuff.

Michael Chapman: "Window"

I’ve never been able to figure out why Michael Chapman didn’t get the shine and adulation enjoyed by some of his peers in the British folk-rock scene.  His albums up through the mid ‘70’s are easily the equal to anything being done by Richard Thompson or John Martyn or Nick Drake at the time, and in some ways, their obscurity and unfamiliarity makes them stand out from the crowd that much more.  Supposedly Chapman has disavowed “Window” as a hurried, unfinished project put out by his label without his approval, but it doesn’t really sound that way.  Perhaps a bit airier and jammier than his all-time masterpiece “Fully Qualified Survivor”, also from 1970, but not necessarily lesser.  The fact is, I could listen endlessly to Chapman’s laconic voice, virtuoso guitar playing, and eccentric songwriting regardless of thematic setting or lack thereof, and the unfussy, casual tone of “Window” simply adds to its overall charms.  Lots of fantastic playing from his band here, too, which includes Ritchie Dharma on drums and a pre-Steeleye Span Rick Kemp on bass, their rhythms fattened with production from a pre-Elton John Gus Dudgeon.  Those collaborators only go towards furthering the argument that Michael Chapman was ahead of his time, and severely overlooked in the narrative of the legendary folk-rock boom in the U.K.  Dig deeper.

Eko: "Kilimandjaro My Home"

I don’t know much about Cameroonian keyboardist Eko Roosevelt Louis, but every record he made in the ‘70’s bumps like crazy.  This is my favorite of them all, with the title track in particular demonstrating an elevated funk consciousness that sounds like Geraldo Pino fronting the Headhunters, with Charles Stepney on string arrangements.  How’s that for a comparison?  The other tracks range from slow-burn soul ballads to West African ‘70’s pop to full-on funk fusion, and the production throughout is on point.  Cop this if you ever see it.