Originally released in 1969 on the Canyon label, produced by Swamp Dogg, and recorded at Capricorn studio in Macon, I’m a Loser is Doris Duke’s best album, and up until now, one of her hardest to find. Alive’s reissue is remastered and includes session photos and new liner notes from Swamp Dogg. Available October 29. 
The epitome of lo-fi singer-songwriter greatness
Lo-fi can be effective as a chosen aesthetic, waving an aural banner that lays an artist’s money on songs and performances, rather than on production. But that aesthetic is even more powerful when it’s forced upon an artist by circumstance, such as a lack of budget, an inescapable urge to get music on tape and material whose intimacy might be smothered in a recording studio. Such was the case for this 2002 set by singer-songwriter John Darnielle. Recorded through the condenser mic of his trusty Panasonic RX-FT500 boombox, the album is almost purposeful in its throwback to the raw energy of his earlier work. The songs find their personality in personal details (“I am healthy, I am whole, but I have poor impulse control”) rather than their themes of troubled childhoods, misadventures and varying romantic temperatures. The lo-fi acoustics, including background noise from the boombox’s transport, magnify the feel of an artist’s notebook, and with songs that were often recorded within minutes or hours of being written, the performances have the urgency of a diary. Merge’s 2013 reissue was re-mastered from the original 1/4-inch transfers of the boombox tapes, and adds seven contemporaneous pieces from additional cassette sources. [©2013 Hyperbolium]
The 1966 country jukebox of your dreams
The passing of decades often elides the full range of music that spun on jukeboxes and the radio. The commercial necessities of CD (and now MP3) reissue and oldies broadcasting further reinforce this narrow view with hit anthologies and playlists stocked primarily with superstars. What quickly recedes from earshot are the lesser hits and journeyman artists that made up the full context of the times. Faintly remembered are artists like Nat Stuckey, who regularly visited the Top 40 for more than a decade, but only cracked the top-ten a few times, and indelible acts like The Browns are usually recognized for their sole chart-topper, “The Three Bells,” rather than their other half-dozen Top 10s. Even country music’s superstars, such as Faron Young, Eddy Arnold and Ray Price, had so many hits that the bulk of their work is overshadowed by a few well-anthologized icons.
But the true soundtrack of a year’s music is a mix of hits, album tracks, superstars, journeymen, one-hit wonders, chart-toppers, regional breakouts and singles that barely grazed the Top 40. It’s this tapestry that gives a year, an era or a genre its full flavor. Bear Family’s twenty-six volume series Country & Western Hit Parade covers the years 1945 through 1970, one year per disc, interweaving chart classics with a wealth of lesser-anthologized, but equally influential releases. Each disc recreates the sound of its year by placing oft-repeated hits in the company of their lesser-known chartmates, providing context to the former and returning status to the latter.
The mid-60s were a transitional time for country music, with the Los Angeles-based Country & WesternMusicAcademy (later rebranded the ACM) exerting a West Coast pull with the introduction of their all-country awards show. In addition to Nashville’s cross-over pop, torch ballads, 4/4 Ray Price beats and a sprinkle of throwback honky-tonk, 1966 found Bakersfield in full flight, with Buck Owens in the middle of releasing fourteen-straight chart toppers and Merle Haggard starting a series of sixty-one Top 10s, including his first #1, “The Fugitive.” Billboard’s expanded country chart and a refined method of measuring radio play led to faster chart turnover, an increased number of charting titles, and greater opportunity for new acts to break through. Jeannie Seely had her first (and biggest) hit with “Don’t Touch Me,” Mel Tillis broke through with “Stateside,” and Tammy Wynette scored with her first single, “Apartment #9.”
At the same time, veteran acts were winding down or changing direction. The Browns’ “I’d Just Be Fool Enough” was their next-to-last Top 20, and Eddy Arnold fully committed himself to middle-of-the-road pop with “I Want to Go With You.” The latter, though written by Hank Cochran, has a chorus and strings that overwhelm the hint of country in Floyd Cramer’s slip-note piano. Waylon Jennings’ “Anita You’re Dreaming” still bore Chet Atkins’ countrypolitan touches (including a marimba played by Ray Stevens), and though it would be another half-decade until he fully broke free of Nashville’s control, the seeds were being planted. Loretta Lynn found her feisty, personal songwriting voice with “You Ain’t Woman Enough” and her first chart topper, “Don’t Come Home A Drinkin’ (With Lovin’ on Your Mind).”
In addition to charting entries, this volume includes Johnny Paycheck’s outré album track “(Pardon Me) I’ve Got Someone to Kill,” Dallas Frazier’s original non-charting single of “Elvira,” and the original demo of “Distant Drums” that (with the appropriate Nashville dubbing) became a posthumous chart topper for Jim Reeves. The list of artists is complemented by a who’s who Nashville and West Coast A-list session players and country songwriters that include Cindy Walker, Tompall Glaser, Harlan Howard, Hank Cochran, Bill Anderson, Loretta Lynn, Roger Miller, Merle Haggard, Mickey Newbury, Dallas Frazer, Mel Tillis, Jack Clement, Johnny Paycheck, Liz Anderson and Waylon Jennings. Bear Family’s exquisitely selected 31-tracks (clocking in at 83 minutes) are amplified by the label’s attention to detail in sound (original stereo except for 9, 12, 17, 22, 28 and 32), documentation and packaging. Each disc is housed in a hardbound book with 71 pages of liners, color photos and song notes. The set’s only disappointment is the unnecessarily difficult cardboard sleeve in which the disc is housed; deal with it once and keep the disc in a separate case. [©2013 Hyperbolium]
A revised retelling of should-have-been power pop stars
The Paley Brothers – Andy and Jonathan – had the experience, original material and connections to make a much bigger splash than managed in the mid-to-late-70s. Having threaded individually through the Boston rock and New York punk/new wave scenes, their work as a duo charmed power-pop aficionados, but had little commercial impact. Their records with Seymour Stein, Jimmy Iovine, Earle Mankey, Phil Spector and the Ramones failed to ignite widespread notice, and their primary catalog – a four song EP and an album on Sire – has been unevenly reissued since its 1978 release. Surprisingly, this first-ever twenty-six track anthology, curated by the brothers themselves, tells a slightly different story than the original releases; but its alternate takes and mixes may offer some clues to the original lack of commercial rewards.
The collection’s lack of fidelity to the brothers’ original releases is both a blessing and a curse. The eleven previously unreleased tracks offered here, including two from a live date with Shaun Cassidy at Madison Square Garden, flesh out a fuller picture of the Paleys’ time as recording artists, and the alternate takes and mixes provide an aural view that went unheard at the time. But the alternates don’t always best the originals, and the lack of clear attribution creates a shadow of revisionism. The Paley’s may prefer these versions, and there is great merit in letting them out of the vaults, but replacing dear artifacts without so much as a note (the credits source the EP and album without any indication that some tracks are different recordings, and most are different mixes) is a disservice to those seeking clean digital copies of the originals, as well as to those who’d be enticed by the alternates.
With the album having been reissued in 2009, what’s still missing from the digital domain are the previously released versions of the duo’s 1978 Ecstasy EP. What’s here are mono mixes of “Ecstasy,” “Rendezvous,” “Hide ‘n’ Seek” and “Come Out and Play” that, while often more crisp than the vinyl release, are not always better. The alternate take of “Rendezvous,” in particular, hasn’t the Spector-inspired grandeur of the previously released version, and “Come Out and Play” is offered here at the edited length that appeared on the album. To be sure, the alternates are a gift to the Paleys’ fans, but offering them in lieu of the originals renders this “complete” collection incomplete, and leaves fans to find and transcribe original vinyl.
That said, the newly released material here is terrific. Opening the set are two previously unreleased originals from 1979, the bouncy Beach Boys-styled “Here She Comes” and the love-poor (but vocal-rich) “Meet the Invisible Man.” The latter, produced by Andy Paley, features a driving guitar line, brilliant harmonies and a coda that brings to mind the Beatles’ Revolver. Also from 1979 is “Boomerang,” with Brian Wilson adding his vocal to the background, the rock rave-ups “She’s Eighteen Tonight” and “Spring Fever,” the rare Paley Brothers ballad, “Sapphire Eyes,” the blink-and-you-missed it surf-styled “Jacques Cousteau” (though not the single’s B-side “Sink or Swim“), Â and a faithfully sweet cover of the theme song to the supermarionation show, Fireball XL5.
In 1978 the Paleys had opened for Shaun Cassidy (who, in addition to fine bubblegum, waxed Wasp with Todd Rundgren), and two covers from their August stop at Madison Square Garden show how easily the brothers added Everlys-styled harmonies to Bobby & His Orbits’ Zydeco-tinged 1958 rocker “Felicia” and Tommy Roe’s 1966 smash “Sheila.” The remaining rarities are a cover of Richie Valens’ “Come on Let’s Go” and the Phil Spector-produced “Baby, Let’s Stick Together.” The former was recorded in 1977 with the Ramones while Joey Ramone was laid up in the hospital, and may be the Paley’s most broadly known single, as it was included on the soundtrack to Rock ‘n’ Roll High School. The latter was waxed at the temple of the Wall of Sound, Gold Star, with the Wrecking Crew kicking up the beat from Spector’s previous production of this title with Dion.
The Paley’s have stated that this is not an album reissue, which is fine, but without proper annotation, the changes elide rather than augment. Sorting out what’s actually here (and more importantly, what’s not) is basically impossible. To their credit, the mostly mono mixes of the album tracks improve upon the dated, booming production and vocal processing of the original album vinyl. The 16-page booklet includes liner notes by Gene Sculatti, terrific memories from Sire Records chief, Seymour Stein, and rare photographs that provide visual context for the Paleys’ place in the musical milieu of the 1970s. This is a must-have for Paleys fans, and a good, if not historically complete introduction for those who missed them the first time around. [©2013 Hyperbolium]
Career-spanning box with mono singles, rarities and unreleased tracks
Sly and the Family Stone’s catalog has never been difficult to find. In addition to dozens of compilations (one of which, 1970’s Greatest Hits, was their first album to top the charts), the band’s original albums have been remastered and reissued with expanded track listings. The remastered albums have themselves also been anthologized as The Collection. But there’s more to Sylvester Stewart than the Family Stone and there’s more to the Family Stone’s catalog than the albums. Pulling together pre-Family obscurities, hit singles (many in their punchy mono single mixes), album cuts, live performances and previously unissued material creates an arc of musical discovery that paints a wholly (or holy) different picture than hearing the material in separate installments.
This box set opens with five sides Stewart (not yet Stone) recorded for San Francisco’s Autumn label in 1964 and 1965. Stewart served as a staff producer for Autumn, helming sessions for the Beau Brummels, Mojo Men, Great Society and others (see Precious Stone, Listen to the Voices, The Autumn Records Story and Dance With Me for more of his production work), and his first sides riff on the hit single, “C’mon and Swim,” he’d written and produced for Bobby Freeman. The B-side, “Scat Swim,” cut a deeper groove than the plug side, and his next single, “Buttermilk (Part 1),” was a catchy blue-soul instrumental, with Stewart playing all the instruments, including organ and harmonica leads. The unreleased “Dance All Night” and his last single for Autumn, “Temptation Walk,” show how early (and easily) Stewart began mixing pop, soul, blues, R&B and jazz into his original stew.
After leaving Autumn, Stewart quickly assembled what was to become Sly and the Family Stone, and waxed the 1967 demos that would land them a contract with Epic. In the wake of the group’s later success, two of the tracks, the original “I Ain’t Got Nobody (For Real)” and a cover of Otis Redding’s “I Can’t Turn You Lose,” were released on the Loadstone label. The former is powered by Larry Graham’s insistent bass line and topped by the Family Stone’s trademark trumpet-sax combination of Cynthia Robinson and Jerry Martini. The group began recording for Epic (at the same Golden State Recorders at which Stewart had produced for Autumn Records) in mid-1967, and the fruits of these initial sessions fill out disc one, starting with their first A-side, “Underdog,” and its two B-sides, “Higher” (from early promo singles) and “Bad Risk.”
Despite a fresh sound that crackled with the energy of its multiple roots, neither the single nor the album A Whole New Thing made a commercial impression at the time; it wasn’t until “Dance to the Music” was recorded in September that the Family Stone had their first hit in the can. Launched in January 1968, “Dance to the Music” quickly established the group’s revolutionary combination of pop, rock, soul, funk and gospel, and shifted the course of pop music. Other acts quickly latched onto elements of the sound, but none could match Stewart’s output as a songwriter or the band’s approach as a unit. The group was sufficiently prolific as to leave fully-finished masters in the vault, including the four that end disc one. Here you’ll find the band trying out previously unheard original songs, experimental vocal arrangements, and repurposed lyrics and melodies.
The July-August 1967 session tracks continue on disc two, showing the wealth of great material produced before the band finally hit with “Dance to the Music.” Two of session tracks (“What Would I Do” and “Only One Way Out of This Mess”) were previously issued on the expanded edition of A Whole New Thing, but three more are included here for the first time: an inventive cover of the pop-folk song “What’s it Got to Do With Me,” an early take on the autobiographical “Future and Fame” and the Freddie Stone-sung deep soul ballad “I Know What You Came to Say.” All five session tracks are as good as the material that made the original album, but the lack of early commercial success doomed this extra material to a long stay in the vault.
The band’s commercial breakthrough is finally heard six tracks into disc two, with the ecstatic three-minute mono single mix of “Dance to the Music.” The song is, quite literally, a brilliantly catchy tutorial on the sound being created before the listener’s very ears. As memorable as are the mono singles, stereo album sides like “Ride the Rhythm” more expansively show off the band’s inventive arrangements and tight musicianship as they explode across the soundstage. Disc two finishes out with album tracks from Dance to the Music, the previously unreleased “We Love All,” the obscure mostly-instrumental French-language single “Danse a la Musique” (and it’s even stranger Chipmunk-voiced B-side, “Small Fries”), the unreleased B-side “Chicken,” and exuberant sides from Life, including mono single masters for “Life” (with a different lead vocal track than the album cut) and “M’Lady.”
Disc three opens with the band’s second smash single, the #1 “Everyday People” and its charting flipside, “Sing a Simple Song.” These tracks, along with “Stand!” (offered here in a live recording) and “I Want to Take You Higher,” powered the commercial success of the band’s third album. As with their debut, the band recorded a lot more material during the album sessions than they could issue, and disc three includes another helping of previously unreleased bonuses, including unused instrumental backings. The group became a hot live act, essayed here with performances from the 1970 Isle of Wight Festival, and scored in 1969 as singles artists with “Hot Fun in the Summertime,” “Everybody is a Star” and “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin),” all heard here as mono singles.
The final disc open with the band’s next album, There’s a Riot Goin’ On, including album tracks and all three of its singles. Ironically, though the album yielded the hit “Family Affair,” it was recorded in large part by Stone alone, with overdubs by Family members and other hired-hands (including keyboard player Billy Preston). The album hasn’t the organic sound or joyous mood of the band’s earlier material, and the sonics of 1971 overdubbing and the use of a drum machine on several tracks subdues the group’s underlying funk. By 1973 the group’s membership was beginning to change, including new drummers, a replacement for the departed Larry Graham, and the addition of a third horn player. The group’s singles (including “If You Want Me to Stay” and “Time for Livin'”) continued to chart in the Top 40, as did their final two albums Fresh and Small Talk.
By 1975 Sly had disbanded the Family Stone and begun to record as a solo artist backed by hired musicians. His album High on You, expands beyond the musical boundaries of the Family Stone, adding steel guitar and other touches that hadn’t been heard on the band’s releases. Disc four closes out with selections from Stone’s solo work, from the then-newly formulated Family Stone’s Heard Ya Missed Me, Well I’m Back, and a pair of previously unreleased tracks, “Hoboken” and “High.” The box set lingers a bit more over the first-half of the group’s career, rushing through the latter half in a single disc, but that’s in balance with the band’s rise to fame, the peaking of their invention, and the view most listeners will have of their career.
This is a well thought out anthology, touching on Stewart’s pre-Family solo work, the Family’s rise to fame, their chart domination and fire as a live act, their eventual end and Sly Stone’s return to solo work. Along the way there are iconic hit singles, B-sides and album tracks, seventeen previously unreleased tracks and a large helping of original mono single mixes. The only real omission from this set are the studio versions of “Stand” and “I Want to Take You Higher!,” each of which are included among the live tracks. The mono mixes will be greatly appreciated by fans who have already completed their collection of the expanded stereo album reissues. For those without any of the group’s catalog on-hand, your surround sound-trained ears may find the stereo hits more immediately satisfying; check out the album reissues, or the anthologies Greatest Hits or Essential.
In addition to the mono mixes and unreleased tracks, the set’s 104-page book is its own star. The book includes finely written liner notes, an informative timeline, rare photographs, reproductions of labels, sleeves and posters, and revelatory track-by-track comments from the Greg Errico, Larry Graham, Jerry Martini, Cynthia Robinson, Sly Stone and many others. In addition to the standard 4-CD set, there are several variations: an Amazon exclusive that adds a fifth disc (and parallel MP3 downloads), a vinyl LP edition (with its own Amazon exclusive variation) and a single disc highlights. [©2013 Hyperbolium]
1977 debut beats the blues
George Thorogood unleashed his Delaware-born and Boston-bred blues just in time to catch a transition in FM radio. Pressured by the growth of AOR stations, and striving to maintain currency with younger audiences, freeform stations were both tightening their playlists and stretching beyond their heritage artists. Thorogood’s tradition-laden blues (eight of this debut album’s ten cuts are covers) was an easy bridge from alternative FM’s roots, and the ferocity with which he and his band (not accidentally christened “The Destroyers”) played was fresh, powerful and a surprisingly good fit with the punk rock and new wave that were just starting to pick up commercial notice. The eight-minute “One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer” quickly became a bathroom-break staple on both commercial and college stations, and covers of Earl Hooker, Elmore James, Robert Johnson and Bo Diddley sent DJs to the stacks for some history lessons. Thirty-six years after its initial issue, the album hasn’t lost a bit of its drawing power, and the steady, unrelenting drive of “Ride on Josephine” will still make your feet move. Rounder’s 2013 reissue is a straight-up reproduction of the album’s original ten tracks, with a four-page booklet that includes a double-panel gatefold photograph and back-panel credits.
Confident and swaggering second album
Thorogood’s debut had been a turntable hit on freeform FM and college radio stations, fitting well with both those station’s heritage artists and the punk rock acts that were just starting to gain commercial traction. Thorogood’s no-holds-barred approach had roots in both blues and early rock, and though he was clearly a practiced player, there was a rawness (even a purposeful lack of finesse) that mated well to the rejection of studio-bound prog rock and overblown stadium prattle. His second album doubled down on the swagger of his debut, with a tour de force cover of “Who Do You Love?” whose howling vocal and rumbling rhythm figuratively and literally amplify the essence of Bo Diddley’s classic. The set’s opening take on “Move it on Over” likewise finds a second gear for Hank Williams’ first country hit. As with his debut, Thorogood leans on material from Elmore James, Chuck Berry, Willie Dixon, Brownie McGee and others, wearing his influences on the album sleeve and leading fans to look back in awe. Rounder’s 2013 reissue is a straight-up reproduction of the album’s original ten tracks, with an eight-page booklet that includes the label’s original liner notes. [©2013 Hyperbolium]
The Buckaroos’ main man steps to the front with his fiddle
Though it was Buck Owens’ name that appeared on the marquee, he’d have been the first to say that the marquees would have been a lot smaller without his right-hand man Don Rich leading the Buckaroos. Rich was an ace guitarist, harmony singer, songwriter and fiddler, and just as responsible for creating the Bakersfield Sound as Owens, Haggard or Wynn Stewart. Though he’s best known for his stinging Telecaster, he joined Buck Owens as a fiddler, and can be heard threading his strings around Owens’ vocals as early as 1961’s “Excuse Me (I Think I’ve Got a Heartache).” He’d pick up the lion’s share of the Buckaroos’ guitar work a couple of years later, but he never gave up the fiddle.
Rich cut albums backing Owens, with the Buckaroos and as a soloist, but this 1971 title is the only one to be released under his own name during his lifetime (a second album was posthumously released earlier this year as Don Rich Sings George Jones). The ten tracks were culled from previously released Owens and Buckaroos albums ranging from 1963’s On the Bandstand to 1970’s Boot Hill. The picks were surprisingly old-fashioned, with little of the kick that the Buckaroos brought to country music. Omnivore’s first-ever CD reissue adds ten more tracks drawn from similiar sources, but the selections highlight more of the Buckaroos’ instrumental sting. Rich’s fiddle is featured on each track, and his melodic lines are often drawn upon by the steel, dobro and guitar for their own spotlights.
Rich shows his fiddling prowess across a wide range of material and settings, with an especially evocative lead on the ballad “Faded Love” and a mid-tempo take on “Greensleeves” that may be the only version that invites you to two-step. Of the album’s original ten titles, Rich is especially fetching on the Louisiana-rooted numbers “Louisiana Waltz,” “Down on the Bayou” and “Cajun Fiddle.” Drawn from the Buckaroos’ most fertile period, these tracks find Rich backed by lineups that include Tom Brumley, Doyle Holly, Willie Cantu, Earle Poole Ball, Buddy Emmons, Doyle Curtsinger and Jerry Wiggins. Rich may be best remembered for his guitar and voice, but his fiddle was an important part of the Buckaroos’ sound, and here it’s given its just due. [©2013 Hyperbolium] Â
Instrumental versions of Buck Owens’ and Merle Haggard’s hits
Ominvore’s two-fer combines two instrumental albums that bookmarked the Buckaroos’ solo recording career. The Buck Owens Songbook was originally issued in 1965, and features a dozen twangy Bakersfield-sound instrumental covers of songs written by (or in the case of “Act Naturally,” closely associated with) Buck Owens. This classic lineup of the Buckaroos included Don Rich, Tom Brumley, Willie Cantu, Doyle Holly (playing guitar instead of bass) and Bob Morris (playing bass), and their guitar-led arrangements are tight and clean. But without Owens out front pulling them along, the playing remains a bit sedate, perhaps – as the original liner notes and included lyrics sheet suggest – for singing along. It’s a nice curio, but no substitute for either the original hits or some of the Buckaroos more adventurous instrumentals.
The Songs of Merle Haggard is a different beast altogether. Originally released in 1971, only Don Rich remained from the previous Buckaroos lineup, joined by Jim Shaw, Doyle Curtsinger, Ronnie Jackson and Jerry Wiggins. By this point, both Owens and his band had expanded their sound beyond the original Bakersfield sting, and while the underpinnings retain some of the shuffle and twang, they’re fleshed out with organ and breathy male chorus vocals. It’s as if someone decided to do a soft-country knockoff of the Bakersfield sound, but it works surprisingly well, particularly if you’re partial to the sunshine production sounds of the early ’70s. It’s a step removed from the Buckaroos primary invention, but it’s a still a hoot and a half. [©2013 Hyperbolium]
Socially-charged soul from the Swamp Dogg stable
“Raw Spitt” was the alter ego laid on Charlie Whitehead by his friend and mentor Jerry Williams, Jr. The latter had recently renamed himself “Swamp Dogg,” and was beginning to build a stable of artists. Williams and Whitehead had met in New York, and they developed a rich musical relationship that included both songwriting and original performances, with Williams producing Whitehead for this 1970 release on the Canyon label. Whitehead would release later material under his own name, but it’s the socially-charged songs of this rare full-length debut that minted the singer’s reputation with soul fans.
Written primarily by Williams and Troy Davis, the album is apiece with Swamp Dogg’s own debut, Total Destruction to Your Mind, and this reissue includes a version of Total Destruction‘s “Synthetic World” among the five bonus tracks. Aside from a few pop and soul covers (“Put a Little Love in Your Heart,” “This Old Town” and “Hey Jude”), the album is populated with outspoken songs of social malfunction – rough childhoods and racially proscribed adulthoods – and anthems of unyielding will and self-empowerment. As on Total Destruction, the surface-level absurdity found in some of the song titles and lyric hooks quickly gives way to deeper messages; Williams was a man with much to say, and having found a forum, he was going to say it with little indirection.
Whitehead proved a superb front man for these songs, with a voice that was deeper than Williams’ own, with a ragged, soulful edge that suggested Otis Redding. Williams’ funky, soulful productions were well-served by Capricorn’s studio in Macon and a backing band that included James Carr, Johnny Sandlin, Robert “Pop” Popwell and Paul Hornsby. Long out of print, the album’s ten tracks previously appeared on the import Charlie Whitehead Anthology. Alive’s reissue restores the original album artwork, and includes two bonus tracks (“Synthetic World” and “Hey Jude”) that didn’t appear on the earlier compilation. This is a great find for those few who knew of Raw Spitt, those tracking down Williams’ work as a producer, and anyone seeking new veins of fine ’70s soul. [©2013 Hyperbolium]
Killer soul from should-be-legendary Florida studio and label
Stax, American Sound, FAME, Hi and Muscle Shoals Sound are all rightly famous studios, as are the artists who recorded there and the records they produced. But Valparaiso, Florida’s Playground Recording Studio and its associated Minaret label should be just as famous. From 1967 through the mid-70s, producer Finley Duncan waxed a series of soul singles that are as good as they are rare and highly prized by collectors. Incredibly, much like Leiber & Stoller’s Daisy/Tiger labels, Minaret’s soul sides failed to make even a faint mark on the charts. But the lack of commercial impact wasn’t due to a lack of goods: Minaret had records that were the equal of Stax, Atlantic or Hi, including B-sides that were as good (or in some cases even better) than their plug sides. How these records have remained unknown to all but the most dedicated crate-diggers is a mystery.
Minaret’s artists won’t roll off the average listener’s tongue, but even a cursory spin of these archival treasures will alert your ears to something big that was missed the first time around. Otis Redding, meet Big John Hamilton; Wilson Pickett, say hello to Genie Brooks; and if you’re one of the arranger-songwriters who brought life to Stax, you should probably get to know club member R.J. Benninghoff. Minaret’s house band was even more obscure than the studio’s performers (if that’s really possible), but – amazingly – the musical equal of the bands found at FAME and Stax. Bill Dahl’s detailed liner notes provides some detail on the players and their backgrounds, but it’s so completely revelatory as to almost feel like a hoax; as if someone wrote fictional histories for a make believe Pebbles volume of soul.
A rundown of the set’s best sides would list just about every track in the 2-CD collection. Though not every song, vocal or instrumental performance is equally strong, there’s something in each and every recording that’s worth hearing. Special mention must go to the B-sides, which include both vocal tracks and instrumentals; there were much more than throwaways meant to goose airplay of the A-sides. Omnivore’s forty-track set collects both sides of twenty singles, all but three mastered from the original analog tapes. “Juanita,” “I’ll Love Only You” and “Don’t Worry About Me” were mastered from original 45s, and sound fine. The twenty-page booklet includes liners, photos, label reproductions and discographical information. This is easily the year’s greatest surprise so far, and leading the race for the best reissue. [©2013 Hyperbolium]