Sylvia Striplin: Give Me Your Love
Taken from the 12″ on 1980

Peekskill Express: Raise Ya Hands
Taken from the 12″ on Bee Pee 1981

Johnny Harris: Odyssey
Taken from the 12″ on Sunshine Sound (1980)

Don Armando’s 2nd Street Rhumba Band: I’m An Indian Too
Taken from the 12″ on Buddha (1979)

Sam Sparro: Cling Wrap
Taken from the advance CDR E.P. Black Gold (now available on import) (2008)

Hercules And Love Affair: Raise Me Up
Taken from the self-titled release on DFA (2008)

A follow up to my post from last week, today we explore some classic sounds, some quirky sounds and a few selections from the new frontiers of modern… D.I.S.C.O.

A bit about our little disco adventure…

As for Part One of the series: the Golden Flamingo track (could those drums sound any iller?) and the Wild Sugar song were both new to me. The first ripped from a very well-recommended series brought to us by the heads at Counterpoint, who have done well to piece together a collection of disco, boogie, and disco-rap into a tightly knit two installment comp. The second, a nice little flea market score. (So that’s where “Brass Monkey” comes from…).

The other joints (Charanga 76, known for their latin reinterpretations of disco classics and a staple of my DJ sets for the handclapping hell-raiser that it is; Evelyn King, courtesy of 98.1 up in the Bay, where the song held court on a regular basis; and Milton Wright, like, woah) have all been with me for a minute and I thought it long overdue for a bit of sharing and caring.

Part Two–above–includes some recently discovered obscurities such as the Peekskill track which I’ve been hunting for for a minute. (Wait it out till the five-minute mark and you get an absolutely epic three-minute crescendo…)

Don Armando was a side project of Kid Creole in the early 80’s. Already known for his bizarre breed of disco/funk/rap, this kind of track is so curiously pleasing, it takes about fifty listens before you start to wonder how you ever lived without it. Sometime Creole collaborator Fonda Rae absolutely slays the wacky vocals which were originally sung by… Ethel Merman?!? That’s right. The writing credit on this track goes to Irving Berlin. Go figure.

The blazing “Odyssey” synth-fest was originally used as scoring for an episode of the 80’s TV show, Buck Rogers in the 25th Century–???, prior to my existence–before K.C. and the Sunshine Band brought Harris on to their own label for the 12″ release. Listen to that instrumental freak out.

“Give Me Your Love” is the a-side to a banging two-fer which features a certain unforgettable Biggie/Junior Mafia sample and epic jam in its own right on the flip.

Lastly, the new stuff.

Forget that Sam Sparro happens to be a friend of a friend–Dude is mad talented and his new record is apparently blowing the F up in Britain right now. If Jamie Lidell wrote with a sense of humor and Jamiroquai returned from Jupiter, maybe the three of them could form the epickest 3-part pale-skinned Prince cover band ever. Till then, don’t sleep on fresh talent.

And for best record of the last 12 months I nominate… Hercules and Love Affair. Run, don’t walk, to you local record store where you may happily fork over 20 bucks (sorry, import only) for the most inventive dance record in recent memory. Gorgeously layered disco production + vocals by Antony (yeah, as in, and the Johnsons…) = an absolute frickin’ dream. THE ALBUM IS INCREDIBLE.

So there it is. Get your dance on, friends. This is good music to sweat by.

Ceil Miner: Stardust
From This Is For the People (Car-dor, 196?)

Lorez Alexandria: I’m Wishin’
From Didn’t We (Pzazz, 1968).

The last time I was in the Bay Area, I picked up this jazz album by vocalist Ceil Miner from the Groove Merchant and was really mesmerized by her rendition of “Stardust.” It’s already a “dreamy” tune to begin with but the way the song opens accentuates it even more. I’ve always liked “Stardust” as a standard and love Miner’s take on it. And it got me thinking of other jazz vocals that have left similar impressions on me; songs the evoke a sense of nostalgia for a time I never lived through yet I have this image (no doubt ripped off from countless movies) of a smokey lounge where the songs waft through.

The first song that immediately came to mind was Lynn Marino singing “Beyond the Clouds” from Frank Cunimondo’s sought-after Feelin’ Good LP. The title cut is the one most people focus on and I’m not going to argue: Marino’s rendition of “Feelin’ Good” is one of the best I’ve ever heard. But as time goes by, I’ve gravitated more to “Beyond the Clouds.” It’s less fiery than “Feelin’ Good” but it’s that subtlety to this song that I think leaves me charmed even more (also, peep that dream-like echo effect at the end, similar to how “Stardust” opens).

What’s funny is that the first time I heard “Stardust,” I thought, “this sounds like a Gilles Peterson song,” by which I mean that Peterson has a real penchant for these kind of jazz vocal songs, as evinced on his Digs America series. It’s on last year’s Vol. 2 where he turned me onto this great Lorez Alexandria song, “I’m Wishin’.” I wrote about this before but it was worth bringing back for a second spin, especially in fitting into the post’s theme.

Dream on, draem on. (And if you got recommendations for similar tunes, please comment!)

Gladys Knight: Try to Remember/The Way We Were
From I Feel a Song (Buddah, 1974). Also on The Essential Collection.

Freeway: When They Remember
From Free At Last (Roc-A-Fella, 2007)

Yeah, I know it’s been a minute since the last “Who Flipped It” segment. This one came to mind the other week when I was chatting about this Gladys Knight song with my wife and I thought about both the Wu and Freeway songs that use Knight’s vocals so effectively. But before we get there, let me just note that it wasn’t until that conversation that I realized: duh, this was the same song as Barbra Streisand’s hit. Not only that but Knight manages to combine the song with lyrics from The Fantasticks, making this song an impressive proto-mash-up conceit.

Musically, RZA doesn’t really much of Knight’s song for “Can It Be So Simple” (look to Labi Siffre for that) but the song also wouldn’t be the same without the forlorn sounding snippet of Knight ghosting into the chorus. In contrast to that kind of subtlety, Bink decides to set off a bomb in your face when he takes a different part of the song and uses it power Freeway’s explosive “When They Remember” (one of my favorite songs of all 2007…the energy here is so palatable). On hypeness, I’d have to give the nod to Bink’s flip.

Max Roach with the J.C. White Singers: Were You There When They Crucified My Lord
From Lift Every Voice and Sing (Atlantic, 1971)

Gil Scott-Heron/Brian Jackson: Peace Go With You Brother
From Winter In America (Strata-East, 1974)

When I was in Duke the other month, Mark Anthony Neal was telling me about this Max Roach and J.C. White Singers album and how powerful it was, especially the hymnal, “Were You There When They Crucified My Lord.” Unfortunately, it’s not the easiest album to track down – it’s been out of print on CD for a while – so it took some footwork (read: eBay + patience) to track down the LP but *whistle* was it worth the wait.

Let’s just first say that the sound of the song runs deep and for good reason: this is a Joel Dorn production, which is perhaps why – even though I had never heard the song before – it sounded familiar, like a lost Headless Heroes song. J.C. White has such a powerful, resonant voice on the song; the music has a slow, measured power to it too, of course, but it’s White’s vocals that brings the song down upon you. But wait toward the end, when the full chorus comes in and the song’s emotional state changes from morose to uplifting – it’s stunning.

For whatever reason, listening to this, I kept thinking about Gil Scott-Heron – stylistically, there’s some clear similarities – and it motivated me to pull out one of my favorite albums by him, Winter In America (almost certainly the most successful Strata-East title ever). “Peace Go With You My Brother” begins the album and it sets a tone that, like the Roach/White song, tells you, “this is some serious sh–, listen up.” Musically, the texture of the song benefits so richly from the use of electric piano (I’m assuming Rhodes here, given the flange effect). The song sounds marshmallow mellow on one hand but when you listen to what Heron is singing about, there’s a abiding darkness that seeps into the otherwise soft musical fabric.

This pair of songs is best heard beginning with a deep breath. Then dive in.

Ok, with that said though, I still wanted to bring the energy level up and the perfect fit, especially with the gospel/spiritual-edge of “Were You There” would be to end this post with a little Joubert Singers:

The Joubert Singers: Stand on the Word
From 7″ (Next Plateau, 1985)

I first discovered this through Murphy’s Law and not having heard a lot of gospel disco, I wasn’t sure what to expect but good god (appropriately enough), this song is – no blasphemy intended – f—ing incredible. According to discogs.com: “”Stand On The Word” was first ever recorded live in the First Baptist Church in Crown Heights, NYC, in 1982. Soon after the church pressed up a couple of hundred copies for the congregation,” upon which, it was discovered by local DJs at places like Garage, The Loft, etc. and ended up getting a promo-release on Next Plateau (on both 12″ and 7″). There’s some disagreement over who actually remixed the song – there’s a bootleg 12″ you can find that credits Larry Levan but the actual record nods to Tony Humphries so go figure. Either way, it’s just great.

I played this at Boogaloo[L.A.] and apparently, someone actually knelt to the floor and gave thanks at the song’s completion. I kind of get that feeling too with it.

Golden Flamingo Orchestra feat. Margo Williams: The Guardian Angel Is Watching Over Us
Taken from the compilation Disco Juice 2 on Counterpoint (2007)

Zafra Bros: Can I See You Tonight
Taken from the 12″ on Eastbourne (1981)

Evelyn “Champagne” King: Love Come Down
Taken from the 12″ on RCA (1982)

Wild Sugar: Bring It Here
Taken from the 12″ on TSOB (1980)

Charanga 76: No Nos Pararan
Taken from the 12″ on TR Records (1979)

Milton Wright: Get No Loving Tonight
Taken from the album Friends and Buddies on Alston 1975

The perfect disco set is a difficult amalgam. It requires just the right proportions beat, cheese, strings, handclaps, obscurity, populist appeal, introspective build-up and anthemic deliverance . The old wedding day maxim could almost be jacked verbatim for application in regards to the necessary elements for a proper disco party-rock: Something old, something new… you get the idea. In this case we’ll tweak the ‘borrowed’ to mean a cover song and ‘something blue’ in the musical sense. Enjoy.

La Playa Sextet : Hong Kong, Hunca Munca , Olaya & El Chico Boogaloo
taken from the album Bailando El Boogaloo on Musicor (1967)

La Playa Sextet : Le-Lo-Lai & Sugar’s Delight
taken from the album Vaya Means Go! on United Artists (196?)

La Playa Sextet : Coco Seco/Anabacca & Mambo Inn
taken from the album The Exciting New La Playa Sound
on United Artists (196?)

I felt inspired to give La Playa (even THEY have a myspace page!) their due respect for several reasons. The first is selfish: I’ve been carrying these records in my crate consistently, week-in week-out, for probably a year now, and before I wear out the grooves on my favorite tunes, I wanted to retire the vinyl properly and let the music itself live on forever in digitally-preserved mp3/serato heaven. The second reason is because I’d also like to start doing a regular feature on somewhat overlooked latin groups. “Dura Obscura” or something like that. If I highlight a big name artist like Tito Puente or Eddie Palmieri, I’ll pick out something that is a bit lesser-known from their catalogue. La Playa seemed like as good a place as any to start. Chronologically, they rose to popularity on the Latin tidal wave that crashed in 1968 with the death of the Boogaloo and the subsequent birth of “Salsa” superpower Fania. Cha-cha, Charanga, Mambo, Bomba, Bolero all got branded conveniently under one banner, and La Playa somehow didn’t make the grade.

Most of what little I know about La Playa I picked up here and here. But without knowing about all the players and particulars, one of the major aspects of the group’s sound that stood out to me from the start, and caused me to seek out other titles, is the killer electric guitar playing by Payo Alicea. Beyond simply taking over the montuno parts traditionally played on piano, Payo really steered the sound of the group in a latin-rock direction (pre-Santana). “Hunca Munca” has that classic bluesy rock progression that sounds pretty dated today (maybe even tacky to some), but back then I imagine this was some pretty progressive stuff. I’m not sure what happened to the group after “Bailando..” was released, but their music is still heating up dancefloors here in Brooklyn on a weekly basis.