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.

L’Trimm : He’s A Mutt and Cars That Go Boom
taken from the album Grab It! on Hot Productions (1988)

Black Eyed Peas : My Humps
taken from the album Monkey Business on A&M (2005)

It was the year that Bush Numero Uno took office. Some of you wanted to be Axl Rose and others (who shall remain nameless) wanted to be George Michael. Personally, I wanted to be a member in the female rap group, L’Trimm.

Bunny B. and Lady Tigra who comprised the kiddie-pop duo, scored a moderate hit with the song, “Cars That Go Boom.” Sound familiar? There’s a good chance though that you missed the less familiar, but far more infectious, “He’s a Mutt.” This sassy moral tale – layered with the occasional dog bark – playfully rehashes close encounters with the promiscuous kind (not our growing mixed-race population as the song’s title might have you believe).

While L’Trimm’s brand of silly-girl-booty-bass was scoffed at by serious rap fans, the group easily struck a chord with post-feminist elementary school girls (and some boys) such as myself. What L’Trimm may have lacked in lyricism, musicality, or even fashion sensibility, they made up for with their ingenuity for unadulterated fun.

Clearly no match for the lyrically ferocious Salt-N-Pepa or Queen Latifah, it’s no surprise these ladies endured a rather short career. But not to worry folks, L’Trimm’s legacy continues to live on in such recent jewels like the Black Eyed Pea’s “My Humps”, not to mention the entire Fanny Pack catalog.

Christine, who self-admittedly can’t match a beat, goes by the name of DJ RHAP.

Tabu Ley Rochereau & L’afrisa International : Karibou Ya Bintou
taken from the album “Karibou Ya Bintou” on Sonodisc (197?)

Tabu Ley Rochereau & L’orchestre African Fiesta : Caroline Mama
taken from the album “Seigneur Rochereau” on Sonafric (196?)

Orchestre Regional de Kayes : Nanyuman
taken from the album “The Best ot the First Biennial of Arts and Culture for the Young” on Mali Music (1970)

I’ve often thought it would be quite alright to skip the majority of adulthood and go right into being a grandpa. I imagine it’s a lot less pressure than being an actual parent in the first degree. Rather than being the enforcer of rules and harbringer of spankings, I could be the spoiler, the precious gift giver, the kooky and eccentric source of history and wisdom. Perhaps I’d partake in a little cheek pulling and repetition of tale telling, but what really interests me most is kicking back in my rocking chair with a refreshing breeze ruffling what’s left of the hair on my head and a little block of soft wood to whittle with my wrinkly but agile hands. One signifigant detail which likely distinguishes me from the average American geriatric, is that somehow I picture myself growing old in West Africa. Don’t really know why, can’t explain it. I guess it might have something to do with my affinity for music like this.

Every music lover has an absolute weakness- if not several. It’s that soft spot in the ear drum that’s triggered by a specific combination of harmony, tone, fuzz, static, and something entirely supernatural. Once caught in the all-powerful rapture of this particular musical combination, the listener is rendered powerless in the world of mortals. Earthly concerns disintegrate, the fundamental separations that comprise our daily cognition become indecipherable, language is seen as the mere shadow that it always has been, and in the place of all our menial life’s travail, the listener is given a momentary glimpse of heaven’s horizon! This is the stuff that grandpas whittle for. While the phonograph spins another round under a Guinean moon.

Tabu Ley is a cat that lacks a pretty face, but more than makes up for it with his musical tastes. Although, I might suggest skipping over some of the “high octane soukous” of his late 80’s work. But that’s just me. The man has written more than 2,000 songs and his records still sell more than almost any other African artist- a living legend. As for the Ochestra Regional de Kayes, sadly this is their only record. And it has yet to be re-issued. Another beautiful song from this LP was recently compiled on the super-dope (required listening for people with similar soft spots) Love’s A Real Thing: The Funky Fuzzy Sounds Of West Africa.

Also, been meaning to post this for a hot minute. Some friends over in Austria really dug the Gumbo Funk EP and decided to put together this CRAZY music video for “The Don” in their free time (when they’re not shooting commercials and movies). Can’t really describe it, kinda gotta see it for yourselves. Check out the video from Illuminati Films right HERE.

Final Note: you can find a lot more classic African grooves at Aduna Blog. And there’s always Benn Loxo too!

Dom Um Romao : Lamento Negro
taken from the album “Spirit Of The Times” on Muse (1975)

Osvaldinho Da Cuica E Grupo Vai-Vai : Vendaval
taken from the album “Vamos Sambar” on Discos Marcus Perreira (1974)
note: the song title on the actual record label reads: “A Beleza E Voce Menina”, not sure which is the correct title.

Novos Baianos : Preta Pretinha
taken from the album “Acabou Chorare” on Som Livre (1972)

Swing is one of those things that’s quite difficult to put your finger on. It’s a bounce and a lag time. It’s the enemy of all things quantized. It’s far enough off beat to describe a whole lifestyle- that of the graceful yet wildly playful swinger. And swing also seems to be entirely at home in Brazil, where it evolved into a completely different genus than that somewhat tamer version which can be found here on records with Blue Note labels or the Creed Taylor stamp of approval. Not that American jazz is anything to goff at, ’nuff swing from Blakey and Roach, but Brazilian music seems unable to escape from swing’s grip. I’m not an expert in the area, like my man Gregzinho, but I feel like batucada, samba and bossa managed to thoroughly saturate the country’s musical output- at least enough to instill some of that swaggering swing as an ever-present Brazilian phenomenon. I’m giving you a funk-fusion track, a somewhat more straightforward samba joint, and a folk-rock hippie jump off here- all from 70’s Brazil, featuring some serious swing in effect. Maybe it’s just that shaker that I keep hearing?

Partly in the mood since lil’ brody proposed the highly tempting idea of trekking down south in the direction Rio, Sao Paulo, and Bahia during the rapidly approaching winter break. Trying to figure out right now if I can gather the necessary funds in time to make it happen. We’ll see…

Lucky for you, the Dom Um Romao album has been re-issued. Cop it here for a nice price. The Osvaldinho album is probably not so easy to find, but if you dig the soulful singing (loving that falsetto) from Papete, then you should look out for this album. The Novos Baianos album (really a beautiful collection) has also been re-issued, you can find it here.

Also, a Crate reader hipped me to this site where you can find TONS of ill Brazilian music (even some of the HIP HOP has swing!).

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.

Tito Puente : Fancy Feet
taken from the album “On The Bridge” on TICO (1969)

Larry Harlow : Freak Off
taken from the album “El Exigente” on Fania (1967)

Roberto Roena Y Su Apollo Sound : Shades Of Time
taken from the album “2” on Fania (1970)

Joe Bataan : Make Me Smile
taken from the album “Mr. New York And The East Side Kids” on Fania (1967)

Low ceilings. Little light. Sweltering heat. Lack of oxygen. Dust. Mold. Sweat.

And VINYL. Thousands upon thousands of old dirty records. Covered in the funk of ages. I had never seen so many records in such a small, tightly enclosed area- with such a minimum of consumer traffic! At the end of an enlightening and resuscitating Caribbean excursion, I found my place of yogic peace in amongst these alleys of long forgotten Latin hits, and misses. Surrounded by the countless products of creative individuals experimenting in their respective primes, I found myself reverently calm and silent. Here were the highest hopes and reveletory dreams of multiple generations of artists, mass produced masterpieces shelved and left for dead. Sadly, I walked into this digger’s heaven only three hours before my plane was scheduled to leave from San Juan back to NYC. But it’s almost better that I didn’t end up staying in that place any longer. I’m still sneezing up black boogers, and it’s been a full week now.

Finally, the last of my plastic picks has been windexed clean and all of the covers have been scrubbed and scraped of mold. A smell lingers, but I’m pretty used to the fine scent of a nicely aged attic mold at this point. The French appreciate their cheese don’t they?

So here is a small portion of my latest dig. Some crackles and pops to be sure, but the louder you play the music, the less this interferance is noticeable. I’m in an old-school upbeat soulful mood, thus the boogaloo and shingaling over the salsa and ballads today. But there’s plenty more where these tracks came from.

Curious to find out more? Tito, Larry, Roberto, and Joe were all (and everyone but Tito remain) highly prolific and groundbreaking Latin artists… well, Larry is Jewish, but still. I actually got to see Roberto play live down in Puerto Rico and I met him afterwards. I gave him a copy of my E.P. and challenged him to find the place where I sampled him. Real mellow guy.