During the 90's I spent a lot of time and money at used CD stores. I have to say, I am definitely one of those folks that is lamenting the death of the record store. Honestly, I've been so broke in the last few years that I have been unable to purvey even those few stores that do still exist, but for a long time it was my hobby of choice. I never really got into collecting LPs mostly because I never had a decent record player or the storage space for them, and also since I spent more of my youth with cassettes and CDs, to my ears CDs sound better than vinyl. There, I said it. Yeah, there's something cool about the crackles and pops of an old record spinning on the stereo, but I just can't bring myself to be an elitist/hipster who's into vinyl just for the sake of being "different".
Anyway, I digress: at the time I was shopping a lot I had a bit of cash to burn, so I would spend my week making trips between the local Circuit City (had the best music selection for new discs at the best prices), CD Revolution, which was a dedicated used CD store, and occasionally Cutler's Music in New Haven, which was grossly overpriced but had a lot of cool, hard-to-find music. I was starting to get heavily into funk, and I was branching out into funky R&B/Soul and funky jazz. That's when I started to discover the Blue Note Rare Groove series. I started out by picking up a couple of Rare Groove compilations, but then I started to seek out the entire discs by the artists I dug. The great thing about most of those old Blue Note discs is that they list the players and the year recorded on the back, so after a while I was buying discs based entirely on the those facts. I figured out that all the good funk was from '67-'73-ish. Pre-1967 soul jazz was much more straight ahead swingin' and post-1973 tended to be smoother, more produced and potentially more disco. It was in this climate that I came upon Dr. Lonnie Smith's Live At Club Mozambique.
Dr. Lonnie was one of those dudes that I had heard about in passing but hadn't ever really listened to until I got to meet him. I was working at Mars Music in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida and the store hosted a clinic by drummer Steve Smith (Journey, Vital Information) that Dr. Lonnie showed up at. After maneuvered myself into a position to tell him I was a fan, I had to go out and buy some of his music so that I wasn't exactly lying to him. This disc met the label and year requirements, and although I only recognized one player besides the good doctor (George Benson on guitar!) I knew it had to be good. And guess what: I was right (you're welcome)!
Recorded at Club Mozambique in Detroit on May 21, 1970, Live At Club Mozambique is a funky little ride featuring Dave Hubbard (tenor sax), Ronnie Cuber (bari sax), George Benson (guitar, duh), Joe Dukes (drums), Gary Jones (conga) and Clifford Mack (tambourine). That they have a dedicated tambourine player is actually pretty badass if you think about it. The set starts us off right with I Can't Stand It, a groovy little cover of James Brown's I Can't Stand Myself (When You Touch Me). Dr. Lonnie starts singing right off the top and actually has a really cool voice that's the perfect match for the vibe of the night. His solo is just great; it sounds like he's fighting with the organ just to get sound out of it, and you can hear all his grunting and groaning in the background. So funky. Benson takes a nice solo in the middle as well.
Expressions blasts us into straight-ahead territory, and DAMN are they just cookin' straight off the top. Anyone who doubted these players because they opened with a funk tune beware: Expressions is not for the faint of heart. Ronnie Cuber's solo at the top is just excellent, and Benson just burns this track to the ground when his turn comes up. Y'know, with all his smooth R&B-ness, I often forget how much of a true badass he really is. Joe Dukes is killing it behind them all, and when Lonnie comes to bat it's all over. How do they follow this up, you ask? Scream is straight back to funk school, and class is in session, kids. I love it when jazzers remember that jazz was originally music to dance to, and dropping a bit of backbeat on a crowd always gets my feet tapping.
This formula continues Play It Back, a blues tune set to a great groove. Joe Dukes gets a chance to stretch out underneath a very simple bass and guitar ostinato and how have I not seen his name on more records? Never thought of that until now, but man he's good. Love Bowl was the one tune from this disc that I didn't have ripped into my library, and now I'm wondering why I had skipped it... what was I thinking? This one has got a very 70's TV show theme song vibe to it, especially in the bridge. The Greyboy Allstars, one of my favorite bands that I'll cover here soon I'm sure, plays this sort of groove a whole lot.
Stop for a second and breathe. Dr. Lonnie brings it down a bit, and decides to preach to you before singing the incredibly sexist and awesome Peace Of Mind. Right on, Brother Smith. I can't say that I would ever have the balls to sing this potentially outrageously offensive tune myself, but the sheer fact that it's 1970 and he doesn't give a shit is just fantastic! And if you're going to be an asshole, at least be amazing and Lonnie is certainly that. Add another smokin' George Benson solo here and what else could you ask for?
To round it all out they cover I Want To Thank You by Sly & The Family Stone which is a bit sloppy but another solid groover and finish off the evening with an deceptively explosive Seven Steps To Heaven. Lonnie starts it off all sweet and then goes right ahead and tears your face off at about 240 bpm or something. Damn, guys. Damn.
First off, what EXCELLENT cover art. Trust me when I say that it looks much better in person than in the photo, but you get the idea. Only eight months after Dr. Lonnie and company leave town, Detroit resident Grant Green shows up at his local Club Mozambique and crushes it. He's got the always outstanding Idris Muhammed on drums, Houston Person on and Clarence Thomas on saxes, and Ronnie Foster on organ. Recorded on January 6 & 7, 1971, this one sat in the Blue Note vaults until it's release in 2006. I came upon this one while shopping for a birthday or Christmas gift for a buddy of mine which I had turned onto soul jazz. He got Jack McDuff's Moon Rappin' (another great album I'll be writing about) and I kept this one for myself.
The disc opens with the ever popular funk standard Jan Jan. Idris lays down a great bubbling groove with Ronnie Foster, Grant digs in right off the bat. I could listen to him solo all day: his tone is so pure and he's so funky. Houston Person handles his solo well and so does Foster, but Grant is the star here. They drop into Farid, a dark little groove with another bubbly part by Idris. It's a nice breather before we get to Bottom Of The Barrel. This one is similar to Dr. Lonnie's Seven Steps To Heaven in that it starts all quiet and deceptive and then blasts off about a minute in.
Walk On By starts off like a sweet ballad which kicks into a poppin' groove in the middle. I love Idris' ability to be light and funky all at the same time. Not many others outside of Curtis Mayfield's band made that kind of groove a speciality. More Today Than Yesterday is actually an inspired performance of a tune that really isn't my bag. Covering pop songs in a funky jazz setting was such a staple of that scene and while I've heard a lot of interesting covers, most of them are very samey. It's nice to hear a bit of soul injection on this one.
I'm not sure what I think of One More Chance. The Jackson 5 had so many better grooves to bite, and the bubblegummy-pop-ness of this is just too cheesy to bear. Then, just when I've lost faith, Grant takes a solo and Idris & Foster take the groove to a whole new place. The lame back beat is dropped, and Idris lets loose on the funk, playing up all the off beats underneath both the guitar and sax solo. Finally, when my faith has been restored, the lame comes crashing back with a soaring soprano sax solo. Yikes!
Patches is another tune I could pretty much do without. It's not that I mind ballads, but the cheese factor here is pretty high. Again, they save the day with the solo section, but for as good as these middle bits are, why bookend them with such cheese? Even in the 70's, wasn't cheese cheesy?
If you can manage to swallow the cheddary bits, the band returns to the good stuff for the closer, I Am Somebody. Solid groovin' and solos all around; a nice funk jam to finish out the set.
I don't think that Grant Green's album is as accessible or consistent as Dr. Lonnie's, but both are most definitely worth investing your time. I love this era, and soul jazz is one of those things I come back to again and again, these albums in particular. It's unique combination of musicianship and danceability is what gets me; there aren't too many other styles of music that give me that blend.
Stay funky, world. I'll have more useless info and opinions for you soon, I promise.
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