Five Stairsteps - O-o-h Child

"The first family of soul" comprised of five of the six children of Betty and Clarence Burke. In the wake of the Jackson Five's success they were signed to Curtis Mayfield's Buddah label. O-o-h Child, from 1970, was their biggest hit. The B-side, a version of the Beatles' Dear Prudence, is also excellent (and brought them to the attention of the Fabs - George Harrison later signed them to his Dark Horse label).

O-o-h Child is a transcendent three minutes of Chicago soul that has some of the uplifting gospel flavour and optimism of the international hit Oh Happy Day by the Edwin Hawkins Singers, but without mentioning God. In fact Edwin Hawkins Singers covered O-o-h Child on a later single. Other notable versions were recorded by Nina Simone and the Posies. But none can touch the Stairsteps'.

This is unquestionably one of my favourite tracks ever. My pal Daz gave me the 7-inch single about 18 years ago. Then I was burgled, and the bastards stole my (cheap, worthless) turntable ... with the single on it! I searched high and low but for several years I couldn't replace it. I had to wait until eBay was invented. In fact I think it was the first thing I ever bought on eBay.

Tyrone Davis - Can I Change My Mind

Can I Change My Mind was Tyrone Davis’s finest moment, a life-affirming record. Davis’s heartbreaking vocal reaches the emotional extremes but avoids histrionics – a masterclass in true soul singing. The golden rule: don’t over-emote.

Carl Davis’s warm production was responsible for some terrific Chicago soul in the late 60s, including gems by Young Holt Unlimited, Barbara Acklin but with a loping, jittering guitar line and buoyant brass courtesy of Carl Davis’s house band, Pieces of Peace.

Davis was never cool enough to hit pop paydirt; he was 30 when Can I Change My Mind was released. But he is, to my mind, the finest soul singer bar none.

I first heard Tyrone Davis via an esteemed former colleague at PA, Andy Lemon, who kindly made me a series of treasured compilation tapes (this was the era of cassettes) containing some highlights of his impeccable record collection.

Staple Singers - Slippery People

What makes a good cover? I’m not sure if there’s a golden rule, but the answer here lies an irresistible combination of factors:

• The original version of Slippery People was an excellent song, yet not widely known. This allowed the Staple Singers to make it their own

• The original version was by Talking Heads, at the time, considered one of the best groups on the planet. The Staple Singers gained credibility by referencing a very hip band. A potentially risky strategy but the end result sounded like the record the Talking Heads wanted to make if they’d been as cool as the Staple Singers

• A successful attempt by the Staple Singers to adapt their gospel-soul sound to a contemporary electro-disco. Again, this could have gone badly wrong. It didn’t

• The art of surprise: were the Staple Singers still going? And who would have thought that Staple Singers would even be aware of Talking Heads? Part of the pleasure of this record lies in the unlikelihood of its very existence. But then in their cover of Al Green’s Take Me To The River, Talking Heads had tapped into that same reserve

• Oh, and it’s a brilliant vocal performance by Mavis Staples, the production packs an infectious punch and you can dance to it.

Bra - Cymande

cymande
Originally uploaded by 50pbloke.

Fantastic slice of 70s Brit funk by Cymande. It's that light, intricate funky picking, skittering drumming and percussion, sparse bass, that is so infectious. Hard to hum, but stays in your head. There's so much space in there.

Soul Patrol says:

Cymande, pronounced (Sah-mahn-day), released three LPs under the Chess Records Janus subsidiary from 1972 - 1974 ... Cymande is the most underrated overly sampled band in the world. The band Cymande consisted of eight
rastafarian musicians who played a dazzling mixture of funk, soul, reggae and jazz. The members of Cymande migrated to England from the West Indies at a young age. The resulting music they created is invigorating and lyrically positive. The name Cymande means "dove of peace" and most of the band's messages are uplifting and reminiscent of a time when funk wasn't just music, it was also a movement.

"Nyah-rock" was how they described their music, a blend of soul, reggae and Afro-funk. They were based in Brixton, but never really bothered the charts, despite support from John Peel and, er, Tony Blackburn. They did, however, tour America with Al Green and Bra became a big hit in the New York clubs of the late 70s. According to Fat City, there exisits an eight-minute version of Bra edited by Danny Krivit. Wow, I'd like to hear that.

Crucially for many of us of a certain age, Bra was sampled by De La Soul on 3ft High and Rising. To my ears Bra sounds not unlike Fools' Gold by The Stone Roses. I bet they would sound great mixed together.

But why was it called Bra? I feel we must be told.

cymande