The Marvelettes : My Baby Must Be A Magician
taken from the album “Sophisticated Soul” on Tamla (1968)

Donnie Elbert : If I Can’t Have You
taken from the album “Where Did Our Love Go?” on All Platinum (196?)

The Swordsmen : Disgusted and Discouraged and Oh My Soul
taken from their self-titled album on RCA (1969)

Billy Vera & Judy Clay : We’re In Love
taken from the album “Storybook Children” on Atlantic (1968)

One great thing about doing this blog (and there are not that many perks, I assure you), is that it gives me an excuse to raid my friend’s record collections. So This weekend I finally got to finger through some prime pieces of wax that belong to a one Mr. DZ. You might remember this particular goon from his Chanukah funk entry a while back. While he may lack in numbers (he bought his first piece of wax like 5 months ago), he more than makes up for it with quality. This week’s selections represent a mere pittance of his soulful plethora. Also, any of you cats out there who are getting your MPCs ready to sample and splice, be ye warned, the aforementioned DZ is also a well-versed beatconductor (some of his production can be found on our Defibrillators remix collection) who’s steadily stepping up his game. He’s already transformed two of the above tracks into thoroughly original hip hop classic material, and he’s planning on flipping at least one of the other cuts as well. So, just wanted to give you a heads up- figured I’d save you from the dissapointment when you hear his aural flame throwers come out with a Papoose (or is it Ghostface?) verse on it and you’re stuck with a played out beat on your hands.

I love every single one of these tunes thoroughly and completely. But I’m especially fond of the string accompanyment on the pre-hook of the Marvelettes tune, and the background vocals on the chorus of the immensely bold interracial love proclamation presented here by Billy Vera & Judy Clay (sometimes the background vocals can steal the show!). Also recently read about how a cover version of Donnie Elbert’s “Caught In A Lie” became the first ever Lover’s Rock song, at least according to this cool piece of literature. So enjoy this soul, and respect to DZ.

Final note, postings are cut in half right now due to the fact that young Murphy’s Law is off on a European jaunt. But never fear, he will be returning, and hopefully with a fat stack of RECORDS!

Cut Chemist : The Garden
taken from his upcoming album “The Audience Is Listening” on WB (2006)

Cut Chemist : A Peek In Time
taken from the album “Keepintime: Remixes” on Mochilla (2004)

I still remember clearly the first time I heard the J5 EP at a little indie record store in L.A. (can’t remember which one) at the suggestion of dood behind the counter. The rhyme style was catchy, musical, funloving and nostalgic in that way that I love, but even more jarring to my dome were the mindboggling beats. I bought doubles on wax as soon as I got my first set of (wack ass Gemini) turntables, and it was “Lesson 6: The Lecture” that became my first juggling tool. Funkier than Shadow, zanier than Nu-Mark, Chemist stood out from that scene to me as the guy I would most like to dig alongside. Everything I’ve heard from him since then has further confirmed my early suspicion. Despite the slim stream of output, the cat has stayed piercingly on point, and he’s one of the most lively DJ’s to watch on stage as well. These recent tunes, which display his admiration and love of Brazilian beauty as well as his vast creativity when it comes to re-interpretation, identify the man as a true knight of the gumbo funk kingdom.

Definitely cop this single if you see it, the flip side has a sick track with Edan and Mr. Lif. And keep your fingers crossed about the album actually dropping soon like it’s supposed to. Also here’s an interview with him on HipHopSite and another on Spin Science.

Johnny Colon : Merecumbe
taken from the album “Johnny Colon’s Disco Hits” on Cotique (1976)
originally released on the album “Hot! Hot! Hot!” on Cotique (1972)

Raphy Leavitt : Fiesta En Mi Corazon
taken from the album “Con Sabor A Tierra Adentro” on Borinquen (1977)

I get a big kick out of re-examining my old musical predilections and aversions. Like, when I was 14 I used to listen to Santana’s Greatest Hits every night to put me to sleep- no joke. I ain’t gonna hate on Santana, but what the hell was I thinking?!? I can’t hear any of those songs now without getting a mental wiff of Tommy Hilfiger cologne or picturing my homemade bamboo bong that I stashed in the corner of my closet. On the other hand, I can readily recall a time (of deep-rooted ignorance) when I thought of “salsa” music as cheesy, over-the-top, horn blast, bongo crash decadence. How wrong I was! Things changed for me by the time I was 17 and had a chance to see (in one unfogettable night) Cachao, Eddie Palmieri, and Tito Puente (during the last year of his life) all sharing the stage in a beautiful San Francisco ballroom- professional salseros swinging all around me. My eyes began to open, and thankfully, they have continued to search and uncover on a daily basis thanks to experiences like that night- Maria, donde estas? haHA

But anyways, where I was going with all that is just to say that nowadays I’m a full-blown Salsa JUNKIE. I love the real deal, la verdad, and I get to see on a regular basis how well these tunes still work on discerning dancefloors. Turn up the bass when bumping these joints, es bueno para tu salud. I’m not really gonna go into bio business right now, but peep here for info on Johnny (who I’ve blogged before) and check this for more on Raphy.

Joe Hicks: Train Of Thought and Ruby Dean and Water Water
Taken from the album The Mighty Joe Hicks on Enterprise (1973)

Okay, so first thing first: I’ve got enough Theraflu in me to sedate a bear, so be patient with me as I attempt to string together a few coherent sentences about the elusive Mr. Hicks.

Despite the fact that this record isn’t all that rare, information on Joe Hicks is incredibly scant. Recorded on the Stax subsidary, Enterprise, the only real clues to his work are present in the “thank you’s” on the back of the record. Hicks shouts out the prolific Stax writer/arranger Spooner Oldham (who he calls Old Ham), but more significantly Sly and Freddy Stone, who apparently collaborated with Hicks on some of his earliest sides. (In “Water Water” you can hear the pulsing, organ-heavy Sly Stone influence running deep.)

I found it interesting that in an exhaustive internet search, the only words I could uncover about Joe and his one release, were tepid (or worse) reviews that suggested the record’s only worth lay in the delectable open drum break on the album opener, “The Team”. Personally, I find that the album as a whole is wonderful, if a bit disjointed. From the psychaedelic space-funker “Train of Thought”, to the almost Lynard Skynard-esque southern blues-rock of “Ruby Dean” there is a lot of soul, a lot of drums and plenty of organ to boot! No one would argue that his is the purest of tenors, but as a start to finish play, the record is a sure fire winner. Nay-sayers be damned!!!

Abeti : Gogo
taken from her self-titled album on Pierre Cardin (1973)

Miriam Makeba : Quit It
taken from the album “A Promise” on Disques Esperance (1974)

Captain Planet : Lully Bye Inst.
just one of them old beats I made…

I have to give credit where it’s due: I first learned about the illustrious Abeti from a mixtape given to me by young Murphy’s Law. THAT BASTARD! I thought upon reaching the Abeti track, just 10 minutes into side A (nestled nicely between some heavy latin stylings from Los Virtuosos and the trance inducing afro vibes of Malombo– bet you wish you had a copy of that mix!). How can lil’ brody who only just started coppin’ vinyl already be one upping me?! But yesterday, I evened the score once again by finding a copy for myself in a cheapie bin. Hailing from Zaire (now the Congo), Abeti was known throughout the seventies as “le nightingale du Zaïre” – I might have dubbed her the “le Janis Joplin du Zaire” instead. Soul, rock, funk and indiginous styles intermingle all throughout the album with Abeti’s powerful vocal chords soaring over twangy guitar riffs and heavy bass. Why no one has reissued it is a mystery to me.

We all know Miriam, but sometimes we forget about just how amazing she is. Quit It has been brought back into my world recently through several songs that use the silky wah-wah guitar intro that pretty much embodies a chill downtempo headnod. I first sampled this cut almost two years ago, then I heard it used by Afu-Ra on his latest album (did anyone listen to that?) and I got frustrated- it’s never fun to find out that someone else uses your sample first. And then a recent trip over to Aurgasm left me with the song “Bluebird” by One Self in my itunes heavy rotation playlist. Produced by the ever funky DJ Vadim, they do the sample much more justice (sorry Afu). So, now I really can’t do anything with this old beat of mine. If anyone out there is a singer and would like to freak a vocal version, holler at me, otherwise, I figure I’d just throw it out there into the blogosphere as a final goodbye- yes, I know the string sample is a bit off key, but for some reason I kinda like it. A Promise also features the super sick “Mama Ndiyalila” groove as well as the bouncy afro funk cut “Samba” which has been comped a couple times. Joe Sample and other members of The Crusaders are on here as well as string arrangements by one David Axelrod. So quit it.

Candi Staton: Sure As Sin
Taken from the 7″ on Fame (1972)

Esther Phillips: Home Is Where The Hatred Is
Taken from the 7″ on Kudu (1972)

I’ve been revisiting some of my old seven inch cache recently and was pleased to turn up these gems: two blisteringly soulful tracks from 1972, that found each artist in top form.

Candi Staton was called the First Lady of Southern Soul; this track hints as to why. If you aren’t familiar with her work, this collection is a pretty good primer to one of the preeminent soulstresses of the era. “Sure As Sin ” was recorded at Rick Hall’s iconic Fame studios in Muscle Shoals, Alabama. I believe (correct me if I’m wrong) it was one of the cuts that appeared on the LP Stand By Your Man. That album, along with two other releases in ’69 and ’74, I’m Just A Prisoner and a self-titled release, comprise a substantial portion of her best work. Powerful, nuanced southern soul. (If you can get your hands on any of her early, pre-disco work with Fame–lucky you. Shit’s hard to come by.)

Esther Phillips, on the other hand, has never been one of my favorite soul divas. She straddled too many genres, often missing the mark by making blues too pop’ish or countrifying (sic?) soul classics to little effect. This record, however, stands out head and shoulders above anything else I have heard from Ms. Phillips. The deceptive bouce-funk of an introduction gives way to vocals that would make a bishop kick in a stain glass window. And the horns that chase her through the track. And the string stabs. I’ve got crazy love for the original, but seriously–Gil Scott who? The song is especially poignant in light of the fact that the drug addictions with which Esther Phillips perenially battled, finally took her life within a few years of this recording.

Stay tuned for Soul Sisters, Part Two…