Geraldo Pino: Africans Must Unite
Taken from the album Let’s Have A Party reissued on Soundway (2005)

Geraldo Pino: Power To The People
Taken from the album Let’s Have A Party reissued on Soundway (2005)

Man, I done fell off. Apologies all around. Murphy has been working like an absolute hound dog on a new mix which, having just finished it, I can safely say is pure fire. Query: what you know about some 22nd century soul, jazzy hip hop, mid tempo disco stepper cuts, and funk break bombs sprinkled with a bit of latin sum’tin sum’tin? Seriously, whatchoo know about it? The as yet untitled mix will be available very soon on The Crate.

In the meantime take in some Geraldo Pino to satisfy the funky African in you. Brought to you courtesy of the folks over at Soundway, the above tracks are taken from Pino’s second release, originally recorded in 1974. I learned of Pino via Michael Veal’s Fela Kuti bio, in which Fela remembers his early encounters with Pino’s pioneering Afro-funk. Particularly evident in the keys work of “Africans Must Unite”, the influence seems pretty undeniable. Fela later recounted to another biographer, “After seeing this Pino, I knew I had to get my shit together. And quick!”

Born in Sierra Leone, Pino spent most of his musical career touring through West Africa with his heavily James Brown-influenced band, the Heartbeats. Eventually, they settled in Accra, Ghana, where, according to the record’s liner notes, they basically owned the music scene. It was there that Fela first took in the fatback American-style funk drums that Tony Allen would later transform into Afro-beat.

Dengue Fever: Tip My Canoe
Taken from the album Escape From Dragon House on Mimicry (2005)

Dengue Fever: Sleepwalking Through The Mekong
Taken from the album Escape From Dragon House on Mimicry (2005)

A contemporary treat for you all today. While the A.W.O.L. Captain hibernates through the ever-colder New York winter days, things in the City of Angels are heating up, in no small part owing to a smoking local band that caught my attention at an in-store performance at Amoeba Records a few weeks back.

With a five pieve backing-band heavy on crisp, break-laden go-go drumming (from Beck collaborator Paul Smith) and soaring organ work, Dengue had a lackadaisacal Tuesday night record-shopping crowd in full-on boogie mode. Front woman, Chhom Nimol (who could probably attract a sell-out crowd just by showing up) dropped a forty-minute set that swept the Hollywood crowd away. Suddenly, Sunset Boulevard seemed a very distant memory. And here we were, en masse, in a banging Cambodian discoteque cerca 1970. Woah!

The tracks I’ve posted for you guys are teasers; honestly, support these cats. Check out their website, see them live, buy their record. This is homegrown Gumbo Funk. Show love.

Little Sister: Stanga
Taken from the 7″ on Stone Flower (1970)

Little Sister: Somebody’s Watching You
Taken from the 7″ on Stone Flower (1970)

The holidays are upon us. Family disfunction, overeating, et al. A time to celebrate the sometimes tenuous linkage of blood. A time to revel or wallow in the ties that bind.

For those of you who don’t know, The Crate is curated by brothers. This post is in honor of the good Captain: a gentleman, a scholar, an inspirational beat-hunter, and a fine brother. Now if only we could get our funk collabo on, Stone-style!

Little Sister was a flash in the pan in their own right, but owing to their familial and sonic connection to one of the great funk outfits of all time, they will have a secured place in musical history. It doesn’t take much in the way of abstraction to hear the Older Brother’s influence on Lil’ Sis. After the tremendous success of There’s A Riot Going On, Sly Stone created Stone Flower records and released a handful (four, to be exact) of tasty singles recorded by his younger sister, Vet Stone and two of her cohorts, Mary McCreary and Elva Mouton. In addition to their limited solo material, the trio made notable contributions to some of Sly and The Family Stone’s classic tracks: “Everyday People”, “Stand!”, “I Want To Take You Higher”.

The tracks are solid and bear the inimitable imprint of Sly, who wrote and arranged all of Little Sister’s material. (“Somebody’s Watching You” would later be re-recorded by Sly and released on Stand!). In its initial incarnation, however, “Somebody’s Watching You” will go down in the books as the first charted song in history (!) to used programmed drums. Eat your heart out Timmy Thomas.

You can check out Vet’s website here. Give your fam a hug from Murphy; spread the love. Peace y’all.

Wayne McGhie: Going In Circles
Taken from the album Wayne McGhie and The Sounds of Joy on Birchmount (1970)

Paul Kelly: Don’t Burn Me
Taken from the album Hangin’ On In There on Warner Bros. (1973)

Chairmen of the Board: So Glad You’re Mine
Taken from the album Bittersweet on Invictus (1972)

Ah, the tenor croon… The plaintive wail of mid-range vocals straining at their uppermost threshold does something to me. The kind of tune that, try as I might, I simply cannot avoid singing along with. (My vocal faculties being what they are, it’s an added bonus that I have an equivilent, if vastly underappreciated, tonal range. Let my neighbors tell it.)

First thing’s first: So help me God, Wayne McGhie will get a full post on The Crate dedicated to his squandered genius. Until then, a teaser:

Jamaican-born, and later emigrated to Canada, Wayne McGhie recorded only a single LP, the self-titled, uber-rare masterpiece Wayne McGhie and The Sounds of Joy. It’s a kaleidescopic, sprawling work that dips into rock steady, hard funk, pop R&B and slow burner soul throwdowns. In other words, and I think the Cap’n would agree, the very essence of Gumbo Funk. Throughout the record and it’s variegated stylistic tones one thing remains absolutely consistent: the potency of McGhie’s voice. Call me a sap, a song like “Going In Circles” slays shit. I’ll hit you with some of the funkier bombs and dancefloor numbers on a later McGhie post. For now, grab your girl and hold her tight.

Paul Kelly really deserves a full post as well, but seriously folks, who has the time (ha!). After a few unsuccessful 7″ releases, the Florida-based soul man hit the charts in the early seventies with his highly-controversial “Stealing In the Name of The Lord”, which brazenly defamed Southern Baptist preachers. On the strength of that release, Kelly signed with Warner Bros. and promptly went into the studio to record a strong series of tracks that were released initially as singles and later culled for Hangin’ On In There.

Last up, we’ve got Chairmen of the Board. Headed by General Johnson (nice name, buddy, nice name), the Chairmen created for themselves a unique Detroit soul sound anchored by the Good General’s wobbly tenor wail. Their biggest hit, “Give Me a Little More Time” (1970) is pretty jointly, however the real gems are on Bittersweet, released in ’72. On this album you’ve got some gritty na-na with “Men Are Getting Scarce” (to be posted later when I find a less scratched copy of this record) and, my personal favorite, “So Glad You’re Mine”. (The opening kinda reminds of that Method Man track from days of yore, “All I Need”.) It’s pretty scuffed-up, but let’s be honest, you’re singing along anyway.

Gregory Isaacs: Slave Master
Taken from the soundtrack album Rockers on Island (1978)

Gregory Isaacs: Night Nurse
Taken from the 7″ Night Nurse on Island (1985)

Gregory Isaacs: Rock On
Taken from the album Rock On on X-Bam Records (197?)

Arzu: Amor
Taken from the 12″ Amor on VP (199?)

I never professed to be a cool kid. I don’t wear tight jeans; I can’t tell the difference between Air Force One’s and Air Force Two’s; perhaps most dazzlingly pathetic, I had never, until two nights ago, seen the movie Rockers. I’m a hack, I know. (To my credit, I know the soundtrack by heart.)

For anyone unfamiliar with the seminal roots-reggae film (all three of you), the only essential knowledge I can impart to you is that you must see it. It’s a virtual who’s who of late seventies rootical superstars: Robbie Shakespeare, Dillinger, Jacob Miller, Burning Spear, all essentially playing their colorful, stoned selves against the gritty backdrop of the smooth 70’s J.A. Oh, and of course, Gregory Isaacs.

I would give you more history on Gregory, but I’m cuddling right now, and don’t really have time for you jerks. Find out about Mr. Isaacs elsewhere. If his safe-cracking skills from the film don’t get you riled up, then surely his music will.

I’ve included in the post his epic performance from the soundtrack of Rockers, “Slave Driver”, as well as his coup de resistance, the ubiquitous, “Night Nurse”. For your listening pleasure, I’ve gone a step further to give you “Rock On”, one of the more heartbreakingly beautiful tracks from his vast catalogue that I recently discovered on a new compilation.

Lastly–and I can’t tell you what a stride in my generosity this is– I am putting up a track that I had avariciously vowed never to post on the grounds that it is simply too dope. ARZU!!!!!!!! Info on this cat is scarce at best. I believe he is either Peruvian or Venezuelan. The track pretty much speaks for itself: burning hot Spanish cover of Isaac’s Nurse. What more do you people want from me?!?!?

P.S. If anyone can fill in some of the blanks on Arzu, let me know. ‘Twould be much appreciated.

The Impressions: I’m So Proud
Taken from the album The Never Ending Impressions on Paramount (1964)

Curtis Mayfield: Underground
Taken from the album Roots on Curtom (1971)

Curtis Mayfield: Billy Jack
Taken from the album There’re No Place Like America Today on Curtom (1975)

Forget Nas. N-A-S are the letters that spell Curtis… well, they don’t really, but–shit. That doesn’t make sense. Dammit. Umm…

Way before the QB, the C.M. was dropping street science as the every day agenda. Over the signature seventies wah and hand drum grooves, and punctuated often by dulcet string arrangements, Curtis Mayfield’s inimitable falsetto was the unrelenting, insistent voice of Black-Power-Era urban America. The voice of the Impressions. The sound of Superfly. The bespectacled archangel of the ghetto. Mayfield impressed his music and his message as deeply as any soul artist I can think of. Marvin and Stevie included.

The thing is, aside from Superfly, most folks haven’t heard his best stuff. With a career that spanned more than twenty years, and well over a dozen albums to his name, his most provocative and evocative work has largely remained undiscovered. Curtis. Roots. There’s No Place Like America Today. Back to the World. From his earliest work with the Impressions through–dare I say–his last recordings in the Eighties, the man went head-to-head with The Man, politicians, the dire situations in the streets, while somehow maintaining the aura of neither of a rouble-rouser nor a cynic, but the sage uncle. A friend. A lover (listening to a few of his ballads could make Machiavelli’s heart flutter). An infinitely wise man, never pedantic, always reassuring that better things were to come. He struck the perfect balance of conscience, moralist, reporter and optimist.

O-Dub over at Soul-Sides threw up a very worthy post a few weeks back. And I’m sure other Curtis blogs have made their way around. Truth is, the Mayfield catalogue is so rich, it deserves full exploration, from beginning to end. These tracks are the just something to get your mouth watering. If you have the time and a few extra bucks to drop, the feast is yet to come. You won’t be disappointed.

A quick look at the tracks: “I’m So Proud” is a good example of Mayfield’s (and Jerry Butler’s) strong balladeering skills from his time with the Impressions. The Never Ending Impressions is a fantastic album that scores up there with People Get Ready as one of my early favorites.

“Underground” is taken from what is perhaps Curtis’ best album (excluding Superfly?). As a whole, it’s funk/soul whirlwind that jumps all over place with its content, rhythmic complexities and overall urgency. From the stomper “Get Down” to the melancholic “Now She’s Gone”, Roots is a masterpiece for real.

There’s No Place Like America Today is one of those albums that seemingly comes out of nowhere and goes so deep you can’t shake it. It helps too, that I discovered this album after I had erroneously concluded that I had heard all of C.M.’s great work. “Blue Monday People” is on here as well in addition to some suprisingly moving Jesus songs. But “Billy Jack”…. just, Billy Jack. While it bears similarities, I prefer this track to a song like “Freddie’s Dead”, though it is certainly more simple compositionally and lyrically. Perhaps because of that, it knocked my socks off when I first heard it. And when those horns drop a little ways in–just look out. WARNING: IF YOU ARE MAKING OUT WITH A GIRL WHEN THIS SONG IS PLAYING, DIRTY THINGS MAY HAPPEN. BEWARE THE HORNS.