Tag Archives: R&B

Jimbo Mathus: Blue Healer

JimboMathus_BlueHealerA head-turning arc through the Southern musical landscape

From the blistering opener, the original “Shoot Out the Lights,” it’s clear that Jimbo Mathus will be laying on hands that have been sanctified by the spirits of all manner of Southern music. With the prodding of Bronson Tew’s drums and and Eric “Roscoe” Ambel’s guitar, Mathus confesses that he’s the sort of person that trouble seems to find. It’s the start of a loosely structured concept album that sees Mathus’ protagonist counting up his sins, seeking the healing powers of the mystical title character, and questioning whether redemption can really even be had.

The story begins with the narrator cocooned in his troubles, but with “Ready to Run,” he emerges into a Springsteen-styled catharsis of urgency, ambition and passion. He aims to vanquish his doubts of redemption, but the struggle isn’t resolved in a simple, linear narrative. His thoughts turn inward with the mystical ponderings of “Coyote” and “Bootheel Witch,” and resurface to find wanton ways still at odds with a commitment to change. “Waiting for the Other Shoe to Fall” documents Saturday night’s revelry, and the closing “Love and Affection” provides Sunday morning’s appeal for forgiveness. In between, “Save It For the Highway” depicts the ongoing struggle between dark and light, and suggests the cycle may have no end.

There are numerous musical threads woven into this album, often within a single piece. The lyrics, guitars and Tex-Mex sounds of “Mama Please” echo David Allen Coe, Merle Haggard and Doug Sahm. The invocation of “Blue Healer” suggests the hoodoo of Dr. John and the dark, melodrama of Screamin’ Jay Hawkins. There’s neo-psych guitar, an acoustic love song, spiritual New Orleans R&B, and even a great, noisy jam playing out “Bootheel Witch.”. This is music made by someone steeped in Southern styles; someone whose education was as much atmosphere as lesson plan. The fluency with which Mathus navigates his influences will come as no surprise to his fans, but even they may be floored by how fluidly it all comes together. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Jimbo Mathus’ Home Page

Curtis Knight & The Squires: You Can’t Use My Name – The RSVP/PPX Sessions

CurtisKnightAndTheSquires_YouCan'tUseMyNameJimi Hendrix’s early recordings as an R&B sideman

Before he was Jimi, he was Jimmy; and before his name was above the title, he was a sideman, playing guitar for the Isley Brothers, Don Covay, Little Richard and others. In late 1965 and early 1966 (and again for a jam session in 1967), Hendrix performed and recorded with Harlem R&B singer Curtis Knight, and through Knight met and signed with manager Ed Chalpin. That contract, which became entangled with a subsequent 1966 contract with Chas Chandler, resulted in these early recordings being misrepresented and shoddily released (and re-released) in the wake of Hendrix’s solo success. During his lifetime, Hendrix was offended that these recordings were passed off as his own artistic creations, but in retrospect they provide a valuable look at his climb up the professional ladder to stardom.

Four of these tracks were released in 1966 as singles on the RSVP label. The first, “How Would You Feel,” riffs on Dylan’s “Like a Rolling Stone,” with new lyrics that invoke issues of racism and the on-going struggle for equality. The second single, instrumentals “Hornet’s Nest” and “Knock Yourself Out,” represents Hendrix’s first commercial release as a songwriter. Neither single made any commercial, chart nor critical impact at the time, and the rest of the tracks remained in the vault until Hendrix’s fame blew up in 1967. At that point Chalpin began issuing albums that seemed to intentionally obscure the material’s provenance, giving Hendrix credit over Knight, and using cover photos that post-dated the sessions by two years. This continued off and on for decades, until the family-run Experience Hendrix organization finally acquired control in 2003.

Remixed by Hendrix engineer Eddie Kramer to reflect the sound of the times in which they were recorded, and presented accurately with Hendrix as a sideman, these tracks become an essential element of the Hendrix legacy. Stripping away the coattail hucksterism of earlier releases, this volume shows a side of Hendrix’s guitar playing that would soon be overshadowed by his on-going invention. Knight is an adequate vocalist and the material is bouncy, if not particularly inspiring, and as a sideman, there was only so much Hendrix could do to add juice. Knight gets originality points for working the audience through the Jerk, Bo Diddley, Mashed Potato and Monkey on “Simon Says,” as well as for setting the classic nonsense poem “One Bright Day in the Middle of the Night” to a stomping Bo Diddley beat on “Strange Things.”

As a backing player in an R&B band, Hendrix was limited in what and where he could play, but he’s still Hendrix, and you can’t help but listen as he vamps rhythm chords, chicken picks or plays with a springy Ike Turner-styled tone. Hendrix gets numerous opportunities to play lead, and distinguishes himself with concise solos that make the most of a tight spot in someone else’s four-minute song. It’s not the revelatory work of his solo years, but neither is it a journeyman merely filling time. Three of the set’s instrumentals – “No Such Animal,” the hard-driving “Hornet’s Nest,” and the nearly seven-minute unedited version of “Knock Yourself Out (Flying On Instruments)” – provide room for Hendrix to stretch out and show just how good he was as a relatively straight R&B guitarist.

Engineer Eddie Kramer has rescued these tapes from the edits, overdubs and poor mixes of earlier vinyl issues, restoring their vitality and returning them as close to their original state as one could hope for. The drums remain a bit muddy in the background – most likely a product of the original recording- but the bass is fluid and strong, and the guitars and organ have some real sting. With forty studio masters and stage recordings to choose from, this volume promises to be the first of several, which makes the track selection a bit of an overview, and the sequencing a bit of a puzzle. The set features tracks from the late ‘65 and early ‘66 dates, as produced by Ed Chalpin, instrumental sessions produced by Jerry Simon, and a couple of pieces from a 1967 session that was recorded amidst Hendrix’s legal wrangling with Chalpin. The latter includes studio chatter in which Hendrix admonishes Chalpin not to use his name to sell these recordings, and “Gloomy Monday,” which was recorded four days after Hendrix was served with a lawsuit by Chalpin.

The 16-page booklet includes interesting liner notes by John McDermott and numerous photos; what’s missing is track-specific session data that would draw a clearer picture of what’s here, what’s missing, and why the tracks are sequenced as they are. In particular, tracks that were issued as singles are spread throughout the set, which may represent their session order, or may just be the reissue producers’ idea of good musical flow. With the painstaking attention paid to restoring the audio, it would be helpful to know the recording dates, as well as the selection process for this particular sampling from the vault. That said, the truth is in the grooves, and with Ed Chalpin’s machinations stripped away, fans can finally enjoy these recordings as a legitimate part of Hendrix’s path to stardom. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

Jimi Hendrix’s Home Page

The Valentinos: Lookin’ for a Love

Valentinos_LookinForALoveGospel-soul gold from Sam Cooke’s SAR label

The goldmine that is the ABKCO vault continues to pour out its riches. Earlier releases from the Stones, Sam Cooke, Herman’s Hermits, and the Cameo-Parkway catalog, are now complemented by a pair of seminal compilations by the Soul Stirrers and Valentinos. The former launched Sam Cooke’s career, and he returned the favor by signing the group to his own SAR label. The latter, comprised of future solo-legend Bobby Womack and his four brothers, (Friendly Jr., Curtis, Harry and Cecil), wove their father Friendly Sr.’s deep faith into a soulful sound born of Cleveland’s meanest streets. They held onto the fire of their church grounding even as their material moved from gospel to secular, and the arrangements from harmony-laden worship to hard-charging soul.

The group’s transition from sacred to profane didn’t happen all at once, nor ever completely. The driving rhythm of their first single, “Somebody’s Wrong,” and the soulful croon of “Somewhere There’s a God,” were never really left behind. Their lyrics soon turned to a search for romantic love, but the vocal fervor continued to resound with a congregant’s search for heavenly connection. Having himself made the transition from gospel to R&B in the mid-50s, Sam Cooke well understood both the stigma and opportunities. But after failing to gain commercial traction with Bobby Womack’s original gospel “Couldn’t Hear Nobody Pray,” Cooke convinced the group to try R&B, commissioned his staff songwriters to rework the melodic hook of “Pray” into “Lookin’ for a Love,” rechristened the group as the Valentino’s, and scored their first and biggest hit single in 1962.

It wasn’t the last time that the Womacks and their songwriters would develop R&B material from gospel roots. The 1962 B-side, “Somewhere There’s a Girl” borrowed its melody and lyrical structure from 1961’s “Somewhere There’s a God,” and 1963’s “She’s So Good to Me” was based on the gospel standard, “God is Good to Me.” Curtis and Bobby Womack wrote the lion’s share of the group’s material, supplemented by songs from Sam Cooke, J.W. Alexander and a few others. “Lookin’ for a Love” was followed by the low-charting “I’ll Make it Alright” and the non-charting “Baby Lots of Luck,” putting the group’s commercial fortune in question. But two years after their breakthrough, Bobby Womack offered up a song that would top the charts. Just not by the Valentinos.

The Valentino’s country-tinged original “It’s All Over Now,” co-written by Womack and his sister in law, Shirley, was just starting to gain notice when the Rolling Stones rushed into the Chess studio in Chicago to wax their immortal cover. The Valentinos original still managed to climb to #21 R&B, but stalled out in the low 90s Pop as the Stones version rode to the chart’s upper reaches. Womack initially felt oppressed, like so many other African-American artists before him who’d been covered on pop radio, but his mood quickly turned. As he told Terry Gross in 1999, “Well, I didn’t like their version ’cause I didn’t think Mick Jagger – and to this day I say Mick Jagger can’t out-sing me. You know, but, when I saw that first royalty check, I liked their version.”

A final single for SAR, “Everybody Wants to Fall in Love,” was released in 1964, and with Cooke’s death in December of that year, the label folded. Bobby Womack, who’d been playing in Cooke’s road band, moved on to session work and solo stardom, and a depleted Valentinos finished out the decade with Chess and Jubilee. Of the nineteen tracks included here, ten appeared on the 2001 anthology Sam Cooke’s SAR Records Story, but – incredibly – this is the first official reissue of the Valentinos’ full SAR catalog, including both sides of all seven singles, six previously unreleased masters (13, 15, 18, 19, 20, and 21), and a hidden bonus track of Sam Cooke giving direction in the studio. The 12-page booklet features session, chart and personnel data, photos, ephemera and extensive liner notes by Bill Dahl. This collection is decades overdue, but now that it’s here, you’ll find it was more than worth the wait. [©2015 Hyperbolium]

The Revelers: Swamp Pop Classics, Volume 1

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Revelers_SwampPopClassicsVolume1Hot covers of four swamp-pop favorites

Founding members from two of Louisiana’s freshest bands of the past decade – the Red Stick Ramblers and the Pine Leaf Boys – have joined together to produce this four-song salute to swamp pop. Swamp pop is a label given to the late-50s amalgam of southern R&B, soul, doo-wop, country, Cajun and zydeco influences heard in chart hits like Jimmy Clanton’s “Just a Dream,” Phil Phillips’ “Sea of Love” Grace and Dale’s “I’m Leaving It Up To You,’ and most famous of all (due to Bill Haley’s rock ‘n’ roll cover), Bobby Charles’ classic “Later Alligator.”

The EP opens with a Cajun-influenced arrangement of “Let the Good Times Roll,” that combines accordion, horns and second-line drumming with electric guitar and bass that lean to Chicago R&B. Bobby Charles’ “Grow Too Old” brings the R&B focus back to New Orleans, and Jerry LaCroix’s “Lonely Room” echoes the ’50s vocal thread that runs through many swamp pop originals. The closing “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf” is a horns-and-organ soul instrumental [1 2] juiced with a hot tempo, Blake Miller’s accordion, and a sizzling sax solo from the band’s newest addition, Chris Miller.

This is available on vinyl from the band’s website, or as a digital download from retail; either way, it’s sure to heat up your dance party. [©2014 Hyperbolium]

The Revelers’ Home Page

NRBQ: Brass Tacks

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NRBQ_BrassTacksTerry Adams’ latter-day NRBQ keeps chugging along

The discussion no doubt rages on, as to whether founding member Terry Adams’ reconstituted lineup should be using the NRBQ name. Even Adams wasn’t so sure back in 1989. But with the band’s long-time lineup starting to fray in 1994, and an official hiatus ten years later, a number of interrelated projects took the group members in various directions. Adams, who turned out to have been dealing with throat cancer, returned to full-time music-making with the Terry Adams Rock & Roll Quartet in 2007, and four years later, with the rest of NRBQ still dispersed in other bands and projects, reapplied the NRBQ name to his quartet for the album Keep This Love Goin’.

Is it NRBQ? Many of the original band’s fans would probably say ‘no,’ but Adams, guitarist Scott Ligon, drummer Conrad Choucroun and bassist Casey McDonough, certainly carry on the NRBQ ethos of musical taste, deep knowledge and an irreverent sense of adventure. You need a pack full of hyphens to describe their mosaic of R&B, jazz, sunshine pop, country, folk and rockabilly, and their topics range from sweet (“Can’t Wait to Kiss You”) to loopy (“Greetings from Delaware”) to fantastical (“This Flat Tire”), and their music even stretches to a cover of Rodgers & Hammerstein’s “Getting to Know You” that’s more California sunshine than old Siam. Call them what you will, just make sure to call their music really good. [©2014 Hyperbolium]

NRBQ’s Home Page

Ronnie Milsap: Summer Number Seventeen

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RonnieMilsap_SummerNumberSeventeenA sweet, nostalgic trip to the ’50s, ’60s and ’70s

It’s hard to believe that it’s been more than two decades since Ronnie Milsap’s twenty year run of chart-topping success (including 35 #1s) finally faded. He’s continued to record albums and release occasional singles, branching out from mainstream country into standards, gospel, and with his latest release, oldies. Milsap visited his pop music roots before with 1985’s Lost in the Fifties Tonight, and that album’s #1 title song (which played off the Five Satins’ 1956 doo-wop hit “In the Still of the Night”) is reprised here as the album closer. The opening title tune provides another slice of nostalgia with its memories of teenage years, lush harmony vocals and a honking sax solo.

The track list is mostly given to covers of 1950s and 1960s chestnuts, transforming pop ballads, R&B, doo-wop, Motown, Philly soul and country into adult-contemporary productions filled with easy tempos, strings and cooing backing vocals. Lloyd Price’s “Personality” and Bobby Darin’s “Mack the Knife” each get a kick from horn charts, and a funky arrangement of “Mustang Sally” energizes Milsap’s performance. Mandy Barnett shows surprising talent for singing ’70s soul on a duet of “You Make Me Feel Brand New,” and Hank Williams’ “I Can’t Help It (If I’m Still in Love with You)” is stretched into a compelling croon. Milsap doesn’t really challenge the material, but his thoughtful readings connect deeply with songs he obviously loves. [©2014 Hyperbolium]

Ronnie Milsap’s Home Page

Liverpool Five: The Best Of

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LiverpoolFive_BestOfMid-60s Northwest R’n’R’n’B from ex-pat British Invasion band

The most honest part of this group’s name is “Five,” as they were indeed a quintet. The “Liverpool” part, however, seems to have been stuck on them by a manager in an effort to ride the Beatles’ coattails. All five members were from England, but apparently none from Liverpool, and their greatest success came after relocating to Spokane, Washington. The band toured the country as an opening act for U.S. hit makers and visiting British musical royalty, appeared on teen television shows, and recorded a pair of albums for RCA. There are remnants of the British Invasion to be heard in their RCA sides, but more on the London R&B side than Liverpool Merseybeat. More deeply the band was informed by the hearty sounds of Northwest rock and touched by the buzz of the American garage. Sundazed’s 18-track collection (originally issued on CD in 2008 and reissued for digital download by RCA/Legacy) cherry-picks from the group’s RCA recordings, sprinkling a couple of band originals among a wealth of well-selected, interestingly arranged and often wonderfully rare covers. Oddly, the group’s one brush with the charts, a cover of Chip Taylor’s “Any Way That You Want Me,” is omitted. Still, Sundazed’s done a wonderful job of resurrecting the core catalog of this undeservedly obscure transatlantic British Invasion transplant. [©2014 Hyperbolium]

James Booker: Classified – Remixed and Expanded

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JamesBooker_ClassifiedThe last studio recordings of a New Orleans legend

Though often cited as one of three primary New Orleans piano legends, James Booker’s popular renown never grew to the size of Professor Longhair’s or Dr. John’s. Launching his career in the mid-50s, he was sidetracked by a late-60s drug bust and continuing brushes with the law. One of those brushes, apparently, was with legal counsel Harry Connick, Sr., whose son became one of Booker’s students. The mid-70s roots revival brought renewed opportunities for Booker, particularly in Europe, and upon returning to the U.S. he took up residency at the Maple Leaf Bar. At the end of this run, in 1982, he hurriedly recorded this last studio album, and the following year succumbed to the physical and mental ravages of his drug use. Rounder’s remixed and expanded 2013 reissue adds ten bonus tracks to the original dozen, including nine previously unissued performances.

Booker is heard here playing solo as well as with a quartet of Alvin “Red” Tyler, James Singleton and Johnny Vidacovich. Playing “with” the quartet may be an overstatement, as they often seem to be chasing songs that he selected on a whim. Still, his playing and singing both show a lot of verve in each setting. The material is drawn from an incredible array of sources, including R&B (Lloyd Price’s “Lawdy Miss Clawdy,” Doc Pomus’ “Lonely Avenue,” Leiber & Stoller’s “Hound Dog” and Titus Turner’s “All Around the World”), country (Roger Miller’s “King of the Road”), classical (Richard Addinsell’s “Warsaw Concerto”), jazz (“Angel Eyes”), film (Nino Rota’s “Theme from the Godfather”) and the great American songbook (“Yes Sir, That’s My Baby” and “Baby Face”). Booker also drew from the New Orleans repertoire with Allen Toussaint’s “All These Things,” Fats Domino’s “One for the Highway” and a Professor Longhair medley; but even when he was playing outside material, the Crescent City was always in his fingers.

The fluency with which Booker plays this wide range of material is breathtaking. He’s equally adept at classical fingerings, florid jazz changes, blue R&B chords and the rolling arpeggios of New Orleans. There are many highlights among the original album tracks, including a lighthearted take on “Baby Face” that shows more finesse than Little Richard’s 1958 hit, with a vocal that maintains the spark of Al Jolson. The reading of “Yes Sir, That’s My Baby” added to this reissue is even funkier, with Booker on organ, a wicked second-line drum beat from Vidacovich and some fat sax from Tyler. There’s little hint of Eddie Cantor here (and perhaps a touch of Ricky Nelson‘s sax man), but the core emotion is swing. Booker’s classical training comes forward for dramatic readings of the Rachmaninoff inspired “Warsaw Concerto” and the title theme to the 1966 Lana Turner film Madame X. Note that “Madame X” was listed by its subtitle, “Swedish Rhapsody,” on previous reissues, but it’s the same track.

From the pop songbook, Booker tears into Leiber & Stoller’s “Hound Dog” and Roger Miller’s “King of the Road.” The former is played with great percussiveness, the latter as a haggard ballad. Booker’s singing never really matched the easiness of his piano, but it serves both of these songs well, the former coy and sassy, the latter a bit shopworn. The bonus solo take of “Lawdy Miss Clawdy” is speedier than the band version included on the original album, but each approach has its own merits. Booker’s originals include the album’s title song, the bonus track “I’m Not Sayin’,” and the original closer, “Three Keys.” The first two have edgy rhythms and unusual fingerings that bring to mind Thelonious Monk, the third weaves “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands” into a rolling New Orleans’ piano solo.

Rounder’s reissue was remastered from the 24-track analog tapes, and includes Bunny Matthews’ 1983 liner notes alongside new notes by producer Scott Billington. The latter’s stories of Booker’s fragile and agitated state belies the remaining solidity of his musical mentality and ability to perform. The song list is all over the map, but Booker’s intellect and talent are enough to hold the album together. He pays homage to New Orleans in both song and style, giving traditional R&B tunes their due and pulling everything else into his Crescent City orbit. There are few who could so naturally give the “Theme from the Godfather” a helping of rhythmic soul and then add romantic flourishes to the jazz standard “Angel Eyes.” The album’s original lineup can be heard by programming 6, 20, 10, 9, 17, 19, 1, 12, 7, 14, 2, 21, but the expanded, rearranged track list plays as beautifully as Booker’s piano. This set makes a nice companion to Lily Keber’s documentary Bayou Maharajah: The Tragic Genius of James Booker, and a good introduction to the breadth of Booker’s genius. [©2013 Hyperbolium]

Barrence Whitfield and the Savages: Dig Thy Savage Soul

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BarrenceWhitfieldAndTheSavages_DigThySavageSoulHard R&B recalls tough frat rockers from the late ’50s and early ’60s

After a healthy run in the latter half of the 1980s, Barrence Whitfield and the original lineup of the Savages left the scene. Fast forward a decade and Whitfield and guitarist Peter Greenberg were back with a new lineup for 2011’s Savage Kings. Whitfield’s delivery is as wild as ever, with growls, howls and shouts, and the latest edition of the Savages rocks even harder than the original. This is equal parts soul and garage rock, lending it the feel of sweaty Northwest frat rockers fronted by a hard-soul vocalist who’s next gig you’d make a point of catching. Greenberg’s incessant rhythm chords and twanging riffs drive from the top, but the rhythm section never takes a breather and the sax and B3 squeeze themselves into whatever space is left (or, when there’s no room, they just push everyone else out of the way). Whitfield borrows Screamin’ Jay Hawkins’ incredulous histrionics for “I’m Sad About It,” but the album’s mix of covers and originals is never less than original. You can set your volume knob low, but this one will still play LOUD. [©2013 Hyperbolium]

Barrence Whitfield and the Savage’s Home Page

Sly & The Family Stone: Higher!

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SlyAndTheFamilyStone_HigherCareer-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]

Sly Stone’s Home Page