Cecil Taylor – Cecil Taylor All Stars Featuring Buell Niedlinger

Cecil Taylor All Stars Featuring Buell Neidlinger

Cecil TaylorCecil Taylor All Stars Featuring Buell Niedlinger CBS/Sony SONF01107 (1974)


A grab bag of stuff that doesn’t seem to belong together on one album.  But it’s interesting nonetheless.  “Jumpin’ Punkins” is the most intriguing because it’s a full-on Ellingtonian piece, and Taylor plays strange yet oddly fitting comping.

The Swan Silvertones – Great Camp Meeting

Great Camp Meeting

The Swan SilvertonesGreat Camp Meeting HOB HOB290 (1968)


The Swan Silvertones’ over five decade existence can be broken down into about four periods.  The first period is their early period from formation in 1938 through 1951, roughly encompassing their time recording for King Records, when they were searching to find their style beyond “jubilee” gospel.  During this time they didn’t really have a sympathetic record label to record them, so today we have to just guess what they would have sounded like live.  Some surviving notes suggest that the band was holding some of their better material and arrangements in reserve until they found a more willing label to record them.  Nonetheless, they had some mild success in this early period, but probably not a tremendous amount on a national scale.  The second period is 1951 through the later years of the 1950s.  I consider this the classic period of the Swans, when they firmly established their own unique style of “hard gospel”.  They were recording for Specialty Records.  While Specialty gave them essentially complete creative control in picking arrangements and songs, it seems Specialty didn’t do that much for the group in terms of promoting them and releasing in a timely fashion what had been recorded.  During this time they recorded some all-time greats.  While I think the group was gaining a reputation, they probably weren’t getting as much exposure through their recordings as they deserved.  The third period, and the one that probably brought the group the most commercial success, was when they moved to Vee-Jay records at the end of the 1950s.  On Vee-Jay, they added instrumental backing for more or less the first time — previous recordings were mostly a cappella and generally included only minimal percussion accompaniment.  They also were releasing full-length LPs of new material for the first time.  In this phase, the group was expanding upon the stylistic ideas they had previously developed.  Things were going very well, but then Vee-Jay closed down in 1965.  They switched over to HOB records, but the group’s long-time leader Rev. Claude Jeter left in 1966.  The group continued though.  They recorded more for HOB.  Starting in 1968, HOB albums were distributed by Scepter Records, but Scepter shut down in 1976 at which time the group switched over to record material for Savoy Records, with longtime manager John Myles departing.  In these later years, particularly on Savoy when Louis Johnson took over leadership of the group, they had what has been described as a “seventies gospel” style.  This post-Vee-Jay period is the fourth and final period of The Swans’ existence — though the Savoy years could perhaps be viewed separate from the HOB years.  Finding albums from this last period can be incredibly difficult, as even discographies covering this period can be hard to find, much less copies of the LPs, most of which have never been re-released on CD in full as of this writing.  If anything, the band kept moving in a direction that bore little connection to any of their earlier periods.  In some respects, this is the least rewarding period, and that probably goes a long way towards explaining the lack of reissues and willful amnesia among fans and critics. I don’t want to make this period sound like it’s consistently terrible, because these recordings were still well-crafted, just not always very stylistically rich or ambitious.  Claude Jeter supposedly came back a few times through the 1980s and early 1990s for live appearances.

That brings me to Great Camp Meeting.  This was released on HOB records originally, and did manage to earn a CD reissue.  The album represents the peak of the increasingly rock and soul oriented sound the group first suggested with Blessed Assurance and continued into the 1970s with generally diminishing results.  When Rev. Claude Jeter left the group, he was replaced by essentially an imitator in new lead singer Carl Davis.  It seems like Davis is present on material here like “Little Wooden Church,” where his vocal similarity to Jeter is striking.  However, it’s clear that the group is under new leadership (with John Myles in control).  A lot of the material here also seems less elaborate than Swan Silvertones recordings from just a few years earlier.  The best stuff on the album tends to be the songs with simple, up-tempo instrumentals and Louis Johnson clearly taking the lead on vocals, with his voice swinging back and forth between gravelly shouting and smoother crooning.  “Can’t Do Nothing” is one of those, with one of the most grooving, driving beats you’ll find anywhere in The Swans’ catalog.  It’s probably my favorite cut from the post-Jeter era.  The version of “This Little Light of Mine” here is also really propulsive, one of the best versions of the songs I’ve yet heard, with an intense beat that shows clear signs that soul music was a vital force in popular music at the time.  Also really good here are a few of the songs like “It’s Good to Be Saved” with Johnson slowly sermonizing over driving backing harmonies, and “Stand Up and Testify” with Paul Owens delivering some slow, jazzed-out lead vocals.

The kind of offhand, inviting, casual feel of so much of this stuff has really hooked me.  There is plenty of good stuff here, and what makes it good is a world apart from what made earlier Swan Silvertones albums good.  This may be my favorite Swan Silvertones album of the post-Vee-Jay years, and it might just be one of the group’s best albums period.  It feels just a little rough around the edges, but that’s exactly what I like about it.

The Afghan Whigs – Gentlemen

Gentlemen

The Afghan WhigsGentlemen Elektra 9 61501-2 (1993)


Back in the early 1990s heyday of “grunge” and “alternative rock” that cracked into mainstream airplay, The Afghan Whigs were in the cadre of the most well-known rock bands.  Gentlemen was ubiquitous.  I must admit to having known about it, but never bothering with it until a full two decades later.  Looking back at it, I can’t really say this is my thing.  The subject matter inhabits a place that seems a little too juvenile for me to relate to today, but I can still respect what the group achieves here.  Greg Dulli’s vocals achieve a kind of burning torment that encapsulates much of what they were about.  Yet the group’s real strength was how they blended together so much of what was in the air at the time.  The iconoclastic jazz musician and composer Anthony Braxton has theorized that there are three types of musicians: restructuralists (who come up with new ways of thinking), stylists (who expand upon the restructuralists’ new ways of thinking), and traditionalists (who operate within a defined space).  By that account The Afghan Whigs were stylists.  Frankly, they weren’t the most proficient musicians by this evidence.  But bits of this recall everything from alternative hard rock (Smashing Pumpkins), to Seattle grunge (Nirvana, Pearl Jam), to lo-fi rock (Pavement, Dinosaur Jr.), to funky party rock (Red Hot Chili Peppers), to britpop (Pulp, Suede, Blur).  They even occasionally adopt the kind of off-key vocals that would come to dominate “indie rock” a decade later.  The result comes across like more than the sum of its parts, just because it seems to carry on from beginning to end without ever running out of new bits and pieces to assimilate.  This may be a period piece of sorts, but it’s one that perhaps endures because of a slight sense that it’s hardly more than a garage rock experiment that worked out in spite of the odds. 

In Time

In Time (2011)

20th Century Fox

Director: Andrew Niccol

Main Cast: Justin Timberlake, Amanda Seyfried, Cillian Murphy

Yeah, so the name Justin Timberlake may be more synonymous with a “dick in a box” than cinematic acting prowess, but he proves an adequate choice for the lead in Andrew Niccol’s dystopian sci-fi thriller In Time.  Will Salas (Timberlake) is a lowly nobody working in some factory in a futuristic ghetto.  There is no “money” as such, but “time” instead.  People have a “clock” in their arm that counts backward.  When it reaches zero, they die.  But so long as they have time, they stay the same age indefinitely.  All adults are about 25 years old.  Buying coffee or taking the bus?  Time is taken away.  Payment for a day’s work?  Time is added.  You simply hold your arm to an electronic reader, or grip another person’s arm in what appears like a slightly aggressive secret handshake.  Residents of the ghetto in which Salas lives seem to all have no more than a few days or hours of time, always in a state of desperation.  And this is definitely a ghetto.  Well, a “time zone” the characters call it.  Increasingly steep tolls are required to pass from the ghetto into other time zones.

It isn’t much of a plot spoiler to say that the movie hinges on Salas’ personal awakening, after coming into possession a large amount of time, in which he realizes that there is nothing “wrong” with the economy that has nothing for the residents of the ghettos.  Rather, the rich have devised a system to separate themselves from the others based on the unequal distribution of time.  Police called “timekeepers,” among them Raymond Leon (Cillian Murphy), are the hard-boiled enforcers of the order.  Yes, there has to be a romantic sub-plot, so Salas meets up with Sylvia Weiss (Amanda Seyfried), whose father runs the largest “time lending” chain–an outfit much like a payday loan business making loans at extortionate rates.  One then wonders if there will be a happy ending or not.

The plot captures bits of the German childrens’ book Momo oder Die seltsame Geschichte von den Zeit-Dieben und von dem Kind, das den Menschen die gestohlene Zeit zurückbrachte (1973) by Michael Ende (better known to American audiences as the author of Die Unendliche Geschichte [The Never-Ending Story] (1981)), which dealt with Men in Grey from a Timesaving Bank, and the short film The Price of Life (1987), in which characters die when a time account runs to zero and the rich are practically immortal.  The modern telling, though, also takes cues from the sort of high-finance intrigue that propelled The International (2009) and anticipates the grim and heartless social class conflict central to Neill Blomkamp’s Elysium (2013).  The central conceit of using “time” in place of “money” serves a useful role in highlighting how money is really a representation of social power, a unit of measure that expresses the holder’s claim on social wealth, or, society’s quasi-moral indebtedness to its holder.  This is normally the sort of stuff that one gets from reading rather dry, academic non-fiction books–and there indeed are quite a few that provide copious theoretical support for the film’s conceit.

Niccol made a name for himself with Gattaca (1997), another sci-fi thriller with comparable ambitions to portray a quest for justice in a repressive class-based society.  He’s a skilled practitioner, able to manage the pacing of a movie that draws most of its audience in with action sequences while still managing to hold together a coherent plot.  Viewers are asked to suspend disbelief that humans can have their mortality regulated entirely by technology, but not in the small parts of the movie.  You must accept that a person can drop dead if the clock in his or her arm runs out of time, but you are not forced to accept violations of the laws of physics for the sake of “action” when the fists and bullets start to fly nor to accept characters whose behavior shifts erratically.  Like a high school science teacher clamoring to “make science fun” enough that a little learning might happen, the objective is to do the action and romance stuff well enough to find a few moments in which to present the moral and economic premise of the film .  Quite unlike, say Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight Rises (2012) Batman movie, which delivers a reactionary and anti-democratic message that “the system” must be preserved despite its flaws (necessary or simply inevitable and unavoidable), In Time suggests that piecemeal tokens don’t work (like when Salas gifts an alcoholic friend too much time) but that large scale mass mobilization of the poor can correct the inequities of a system established by the rich for their differential advantage.  It’s an old message.  Leo Tolstoy makes the same argument in the final chapter of his The Kingdom of God is Within You: Christianity Not as a Mystic Religion but as a New Theory of Life (1894), for instance, and Gandhi put the idea into practice.  But if you miss the final moments of this film you might miss that message somewhat, and think instead that a kind of James Bond figure can dash in and make the difference by himself.

Matt Damon has made something of a career making movies like this.  Timberlake and Seyfried less so.  Cillian Murphy makes a good choice for his role as the anguished and vaguely morally troubled cop.  One can’t forget the casting difficulties for a script that calls for a society of people who appear to be about 25-30 years old but have lived decades (or more) longer!

This one is a good bit of entertainment.  It has a more solid sense of purpose than most hollywood sci-fi.  But in the mold with so much current cinema, the dystopian element predominates over the utopian.  Audiences are mostly in a mood today to relate to a story about recognizing a corrupt system and bringing it down.  It might take more time before the happy stories of what comes next can be told effectively.

The Discerning Listener’s Guide to Sly & The Family Stone

A guide to the recorded music of Sly & The Family Stone. Enjoy!

 

Danny Stewart

“A Long Time Away” (1961)

Sly Stone — born Sylvester Stewart — first made a name for himself as a jive-talking radio DJ.  He also worked as a record producer in the early 1960s, and released a few singles under various aliases and with groups such as The Stewart Four, The Stewart Brothers, and The Viscaynes.

Laugh, Laugh

The Beau Brummels

“Laugh, Laugh” / “Still in Love With You Baby” (1964)

“Laugh, Laugh” and “Just a Little” were each produced by Sly Stone.  These Beau Brummels tracks are some of the best evidence that Sly knew how to produce a record even before Sly & The Family Stone was formed.

A Whole New Thing

Sly & The Family Stone

A Whole New Thing (1967)

A decent, if uneven, debut.  This is what launched one of pop music’s brightest groups.  Sly Stone was still working out the details of his musical vision, but tagging along is a fun ride.  Even if they don’t quite fully achieve a “whole new thing” here, they at least established that they were gonna try.  “Underdog” is a classic.

Dance to the Music

Sly & The Family Stone

Dance to the Music (1968)

The debut jumped around a bit trying to find precisely what Sly & The Family Stone were going to be about.  Dance to the Music locked in to exactly everything that the “whole new thing” title of their debut promised.  The songs are all catchy, upbeat, bright, and the lyrics deliver smart wordplay with some social commentary thrown on top.  What might be difficult to appreciate in retrospect is that the group was interracial, and included both men and women, at a time when that was not happening elsewhere.  They also had a horn section within the group, whereas most soul acts didn’t consider the horn section part of the group proper — like The Memphis Horns who played for just about every Stax Records singer.  Most of the songs on Dance to the Music revolve around very similar material.  But the group really proves their mettle by making each one sound fresh.  Sly gave Miles Davis a copy, and Miles later had to ask for another because the first was worn out from so much use.  While that might just seem like a mildly amusing anecdote, it does help explain an underlying strength of the album: the improvisational flair built around irresistible rhythms.

 Danse a la musique

The French Fries

“Danse a la musique” / “Small Fries” (1968)

 

Life

Sly & The Family Stone

Life (1968)

This is like a continuation of Dance to the Music.  “M’Lady” is quite similar to “Dance to the Music,” for instance.  But when you find a good thing, go with it.  While not as essential as some of the group’s other albums, if you like their 1960s stuff this is worth seeking out.

 Live at the Fillmore East

Sly & The Family Stone

Live at the Fillmore East (2015)

An archival live collection recorded shortly after the release of Life.  This was initially released as a 2-LP limited edition album, then as an expanded 4-CD set.

Stand!

Sly & The Family Stone

Stand! (1969)

Generally considered one of the group’s best albums.  With “Everyday People” Sly reached the pinnacle of the unbridled optimism of the 1960s, in the process coining the phrase “different strokes for different folks.”  The depth and feeling he fit into the space of a short pop song was a spectacular achievement.  Stand! established the group as one of the most important pop acts of their time.  This is not a bad place to start in their catalog.

Hot Fun in the Summertime

Sly & The Family Stone

“Hot Fun in the Summertime” / “Fun” (1969)

If ever one of Sly’s songs demonstrated both his absolution mastery of record producing and his witty, self-awareness in the world of soul music, “Hot Fun in the Summertime” was it.  It kind of pokes fun at other soul groups.  It also is a masterclass in how to make a record tailored to the talents of individual performers without losing sight of the overall effect of the group effort.  This is my personal favorite.

Woodstock
Woodstock (1970)

“Woodstock” has since become etched on social consciousness as a symbol of 1960s counterculture.  Sly & The Family Stone were right there for it.  The first album of material from the festival features a medley excerpted from the group’s performance.  Additional recordings from Woodstock came out on Woodstock Diary, but it was not until 2009 that the full performance was available on an album.  The original Woodstock album might help put the music in some kind of context though.

The Woodstock Experience

Sly & The Family Stone

The Woodstock Experience (2009)

Disc two of this collection features the complete performance of Sly & The Family Stone at Woodstock.  Proof that the band put on a fierce live show in their prime is here in abundance (despite a few sound equipment problems).

Life and Death in G & A

Abaco Dream

“Life and Death in G & A” / “Cat Woman” (1969)

The group released two throwaway singles (this and “Another Night of Love”) under the pseudonym “Abaco Dream”.  “Life and Death in G&A” is a straight funk number, with the largely instrumental “Cat Woman” featuring lingering, psychedelic synthesizer — both oddities unlike anything in the proper Sly & The Family Stone discography.  “Cat Woman” is the more intriguing side because it’s quite weird, for a major pop group or otherwise, while the A-side is driving but kind of simple.

Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)

Sly & The Family Stone

“Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)” / “Everybody Is a Star” (1969)

The group’s all-around best non-album single.  The A-side is a hard, funky number lead by the slap bass of Larry Graham that foreshadows Sly’s next moves.  The B-side is an uplifting, motivational song rooted in what the group did throughout the Sixties (especially “You Can Make It if You Try”).

The First Great Rock Festivals of the Seventies: Isle of Wight / Atlanta Pop Festival
The First Great Rock Festivals of the Seventies: Isle of Wight / Atlanta Pop Festival (1971)

Woodstock was only one of many large rock and pop festivals held in that era.  The group appeared at the 1970 Isle of Wight Festival in England, and also the 1969 Harlem Cultural Festival.

Somebody's Watching You

Little Sister

“Somebody’s Watching You” / “Stanga” (1970)

Little Sister was, yes, Sly’s little sister Vet’s group.  This single is historically noteworthy as being the first major (non-underground) release to feature a drum machine.  Little Sister would provide backing vocals for numerous Sly & The Family Stone releases in the coming years.

There's a Riot Goin' on

Sly & The Family Stone

There’s a Riot Goin’ On (1971)

The defining Sly & The Family Stone album is without question There’s a Riot Goin’ on.  Whole books have been written about and around this album, so I will only sketch the key details.  It represented an abrupt shift from the last album.  Now dark, murky sounds dominated.  Original band members were departing.  Sly was using a drum machine, performing a lot of the music all by himself, and Bobby Womack appears somewhere in the mix.  There really isn’t another album like this.  Suffice it to say, it’s one of the all-time great rock/pop/soul albums.  An absolute essential.

Rock Dirge

Sly Stone

“Rock Dirge” (1971)
Fresh

Sly & The Family Stone

Fresh (1973)

Not nearly as militant and obtuse as There’s a Riot Goin’ on, Fresh had a crisper funk sound.  It’s yet another classic.  Few groups have ever produced a series of albums as good as Sly had from the late 1960s through (at least) Fresh.  This is one of the essential Sly & The Family Stone discs.

Small Talk

Sly & The Family Stone

Small Talk (1974)

Sly took another turn with Small Talk.  It had a much quieter, mellower sound than any of the group’s previous albums.  The band was different, with a number of new members added and some old ones departed, and even boasted a violinist.  This album really is neglected.  The mature sound and lyrics dealing with raising a family and other domestic interests offer a new perspective on Sly’s music.  Despite having a few weaker moments (like “Mother Beautiful” and “Wishful Thinkin'”), this has held up pretty well.  People used to tell author Joseph Heller that his later books weren’t as good as Catch-22, to which he would respond, but what is?  To say Small Talk isn’t as good as something like There’s a Riot Goin’ on, or even Fresh, is kind of unfair.  No matter what, Sly had to go downhill at least a little as long as he kept releasing material following such magnificent previous achievements.  As long as you don’t come to this looking for more of the same, it should be a rewarding listen.  Small Talk deserves to be considered among the group’s better albums, even if it’s on a tier slightly below the all-time classics.

High on You

Sly Stone

High on You (1975)

High on You was not credited to “& The Family Stone”, which was perhaps a moot point with the original members of the band already disappearing in previous years.  This is a respectable funk/soul outing, with  a strong title track, though it’s nothing spectacular.  The social consciousness that marked so much prior work was now gone and Sly was aiming only for a funky good time, though he generally succeeds in that more modest aim.  Sly’s popularity would decline from this point forward.  He was not really pushing himself anymore.

Heard You Missed Me, Well I'm Back

Sly & The Family Stone

Heard Ya Missed Me, Well I’m Back (1976)

Perhaps due to the critical panning that Small Talk unfairly received, Sly’s next few albums tended to be merely attempts to recreate his “old” aura.  Each one was billed as his big comeback.  Heard Ya Missed Me, Well I’m Back is arguably the worst album in the catalog, though even Sly at his worst is at least adequate in the bigger picture.  This one drifts into disco era fads at times, sports very bland horn arrangements, and the songwriting is completely forgettable.

Back on the Right Track

Sly & The Family Stone

Back on the Right Track (1979)

Another lackluster “comeback” album.  It is an improvement over Heard Ya Missed Me, Well I’m Back as far as songwriting goes, particularly in the way this one reckons with changing times and Sly’s fading popularity.  Worth it for “Remember Who You Are”, a real gem from Sly’s late period.  But this is not the place to start.

Ten Years Too Soon

Sly

Ten Years Too Soon (1979)

Well, for better or worse, this is one of the earliest remix albums.  It’s a bunch of old Sly & The Family Stone hits recast for disco-era dancefloors.  Profoundly unessential.

Ain't But the One Way

Sly & The Family Stone

Ain’t But the One Way (1982)

Sly all but disappeared for a while, though he briefly surfaced with Funkadelic for The Electric Spanking of War Babies.  Then along came Ain’t but the One Way in 1982.  In many ways, it marks the first time Sly actually presented a new sound since Small Talk.  Unfortunately, the performances are generally lackluster.  If the album could muster the intensity of “Underdog” in the horn section, things might have been different.  Aficionados will probably want to seek this out, particularly for “L.O.V.I.N.U.” and “Sylvester,” but it’s not essential.

 Eek-Ah-Bo Static Automatic

Sly Stone

“Eek-Ah-Bo Static Automatic” / “Love and Affection” (1986)

 

I'm Back! Family and Friends

Sly Stone

I’m Back! Family & Friends (2011)

After a very long period of inactivity, and a few brief reappearances touring, Sly released his first album under his name in decades in 2011.  What we have are mostly his old hits re-recorded, plus a few new songs.  The old songs are all performed with guest artists.  The hits are still great, and Sly has updated and modernized things in a way that needs no handicap.  Yet, the guest spots add nothing and these re-recordings are somewhat redundant.  Fans who love everything else may get a small kick out of this, but it’s nothing essential.  It is worth mentioning that due to an ongoing dispute with his (former) manager involving allegations of fraud regarding his royalty payments, Sly was living in a van in a rougher part of Los Angeles since 2009.  He indicated that he’s too paranoid to trust record companies to release any new material.

Recorded in San Francisco: 1964-67

Sly Stone

Recorded in San Francisco: 1964-67

Oddities collection.

Precious Stone: In the Studio With Sly Stone 1963-1965

Sly Stone

Precious Stone: In the Studio With Sly Stone 1963-1965 (1994)

A collection of early material Sly recorded for Autumn Records.

Listen to the Voices: Sly Stone in the Studio 1965-70
Listen to the Voices: Sly Stone in the Studio 1965-70 (2010)

A collection of tracks produced by Sly Stone, including those for his label Stone Flower.  Also available is I’m Just Like You: Sly’s Stone Flower 1969-70 and a few tracks appear on Higher!

The Essential Sly & The Family Stone

Sly & The Family Stone

The Essential Sly & The Family Stone (2003)

If you want a compilation of Sly & The Family Stone material, this is the one to get.  It supplanted Anthology, which had already supplanted Greatest Hits as the best one available.  Any sort of best-of collection will probably be good (though there has been a proliferation of dubious compilations), but the two-CD Essential one is best because it’s longer and you will probably want the additional material.

Additional official compilations that might be of interest are The Collection, which is a boxed set of the most essential albums (but is not a complete discography), and Higher!, which collects singles and oddities.

Work

A recent advertorial, “Why You Hate Work,” by some consultants published by the New York Times (NYT) makes a number of false distinctions — just the kind NYT loves.  Basically, the idea is that corporate management should implement certain policies to make employees more “engaged”, “productive”, “satisfied”, etc.  Not discussed is whether employers should be forced to do these things, or whether structural changes should be implemented on a national (or international) scale that render the decisions of such managers obsolete.  The authors state, “Employees are vastly more satisfied and productive, it turns out, when four of their core needs are met . . . ”  Curiously, Simon Patten, the former economics chair of the Wharton School of Finance and Economy at the University of Pennsylvania, advocated something quite similar (yet more practical) in the 19th century.  “Patten recognized that rising productivity, public investment, and wage levels went together. That is what enabled well-fed, well-trained, and well-housed American labor to undersell ‘pauper labor.'” (See “Simon Patten on Public Infrastructure and Economic Rent Capture”).  The NYT authors presume employee productivity as a desired objective.  Undiscussed is the degree to which productivity gains flow to employees vs. employers.  Patten knew better.  He avoided circular normative logic that underlies the NYT op-ed (that is, employers undermine employees, then must find a way to “motivate” said employees to accept the prior undermining).  The NYT piece is advocating that the capital strike that began around 2007, which today requires efforts by corporate management to convince employees that there is no alternative (TINA) and they should support and assist with the erosion of their own rights and powers that the capital strike represents.  Obviously, this does require skill.  How do you convince people to act against their own interests?  Clearly, such a challenge requires consultants.  Most likely, many consultants.

Anyway, a better point has been argued by anthropologist David Graeber.  In a recent interview with Thomas Frank, Graeber expounded further on the themes in his essay, “On the Phenomenon of Bullshit Jobs.”  The NYT op-ed authors fall into the basic pattern of worthless glad-handing of corporate executives (ahem, the client base of these consultants), which the late sociologist Pierre Bourdieu dismissed as essentially self-justifying drivel created by business for business in his excellent book The Social Structures of the Economy.  Graeber goes considerably further than the consultants’ advertising/opinion in the NYT by suggesting that workers, as citizens, have the right to control what kind of social and economic circumstances they live in.  The NYT authors instead focus on selling ways management can trick employees into accepting a system they have no control over.  None of this should come as much of a surprise.  The authors freely admit (in public!) that they partnered with The Harvard Business Review, which might be labeled a terrorist organization in a more just world (because they promote fear among “noncombatant” workers to advance a marketplace war between business entities, and by owners/management against workers).

The Soul Stirrers – He’s My Rock: Their Early Sides

He's My Rock: Their Early Sides

The Soul StirrersHe’s My Rock: Their Early Sides P-Vine PCD-5594/5 (2003)


R.H. Harris of The Soul Stirrers was the Louis Armstrong of gospel music.  He is credited by many as being the first significant singer in gospel “quartet” music to break away from the “flatfooted” jubilee style and provide lead vocals that could roam over the top of the backing vocals, simultaneously adding rhythmic syncopation and melodic flourishes.  In other words, he helped create space in gospel music for dynamic soloists just like Armstrong did for jazz.  He, like Armstrong, wasn’t the only person doing his kind of thing, but he did it more effectively and consistently than anyone else.  His style of lead singing opened the door for gospel “quartets” to include more than four singers, with multiple lead vocalists switching back and forth.  And Harris was a force to be reckoned with.  His twangy, slightly nasal voice leaps out and commands attention.  He employed melisma to add an emotional kick to each and every song, but unlike the scores of perhaps unwitting imitators you hear all over the place decades later on American Idol or whatever, there is substance and disciplined restraint when that effect is used here.  It sounds fantastic, and it gets better with each repeated listen.

He’s My Rock may be the most extensive collection of pre-Sam Cooke Soul Stirrers recordings yet assembled.  The material here comes from around 1939 or 1940 through 1948.  The sound is pretty good for transfers from old 78s, and the liner notes are as good as you’ll find, with recording dates and personnel actually listed for everything along with songwriting attribution for most of the selections.  The group sounds great here, and song after song features exquisitely crafted vocal harmonies.  Their attention to detail is extraordinary.  This may be due in part to how late in the Soul Stirrers’ existence these “early” recordings were made.  The Soul Stirrers had been around since the 1920s.  Apart from some Library of Congress recordings, they didn’t really record much until the 1940s.  So don’t be surprised if you hear earlier recordings by other groups–like the Ink Spots–and mistakenly think The Soul Stirrers took influence from them instead of the other way around.  The Soul Stirrers placed so little emphasis on recording for such a long time, that their musical innovations had become well known in some circles long before they recorded any songs reflecting those innovations.  When they finally did make recordings, the material was quite polished and refined.  So it all sounds great.

Even with their many innovations, the early Soul Stirrers were still tied to the long-popular “jubilee” style, and they featured a decidedly slow-paced approach that you could link back to Victorian-era folk music.  Probably due to that fact, listening to a lot of these early recordings together it becomes clear that The Soul Stirrers rarely strayed from demure, homophonic stylings in constructing the backing harmonies.  If you aren’t prepared for that, and expect a more modern sound, like the slightly harder gospel the group recorded later with Sam Cooke, this disc might sound a bit monotonous after a while.  But that shouldn’t detract from the historical importance of these recordings.  It certainly doesn’t take anything away from the fine lead vocals of R.H. Harris.  Despite this collection representing perhaps the most influential vocal group gospel music, it probably isn’t the place to gain an introduction to gospel “quartet” music.  But if you want to understand the development of gospel music, or just enjoy some great vocals, this set is invaluable.