AAMAM: Oh Happy Day! Beyond The Walls Of The Black Church. Part 6 of 30

Edwin_Hawkins_Singers

Edwin Hawkins Singers singing “Oh Happy Day” 1970.

Those whom are intimately familiar with the music of the Black church are compelled to rejoice upon hearing the rhythmic chord progressions of “Oh Happy Day.”  The song relays the joyous moment after having one’s sins washed away—a baptism by water.  “Oh Happy Day” reiterates faith and hope the Black church has in the redemptive power of Jesus Christ.

The song “Oh Happy Day” stems from an 18th century hymn. It was rearranged by contemporary gospel musician and singer, Edwin Hawkins. The song was sung by the Edwin Hawkins Singers and released on the album Let Us Go Into The House Of The Lord in 1968 and became a huge hit in 1969.  Its rhythmic groove, which was similar to popular soul music of the era, allowed it to easily cross over onto the soul and urban charts of the day.  Not only was it a spiritually rejuvenating song but also one, which appealed to a pop audience.  Hawkins’ song went on to sell upward of two million copies.

“Oh Happy Day” set the foundation of contemporary gospel music with its pop rhythm and blues bounce that pushed and challenged the boundaries of gospel music of the late 60s.  Today contemporary gospel music expands in such a way that continues to set new bench marks and push gospel music boundaries.  As well, today, “Oh Happy Day” has found its place among the traditional standards of great gospel songs.

Oh happy day, AAMAM!

Brown Quiets The Night in Boston!

Photo by Thomas E. Landers/Globe Boston, afternoon April 5, 1968

Photo by Thomas E. Landers/Globe
Boston, afternoon April 5, 1968

As you know it is Black Music Month! And if you are like me you are knee deep in the melodies of some good Black music (just like last month and the month before that and the month . . .)

Anyway here is little something for you to chew on for Black Music Month!

Did you know James Brown and his music saved Boston from being destroyed on April 5, 1968? It’s true. As Brown would say, “Here’s how the whole thang went down, man!”

On April 4, 1968 Dr. Martin L. King, Jr. was assassinated while supporting the striking Black public sanitation workers in Memphis, Tennessee. As soon as his assassination made the news, Black folks became enraged at the untimely loss of their beloved champion of equality. Feeling hopeless, frustrated, and angry with their lingering social status as well as becoming increasingly impatient with the pace of King’s campaign of non-violence, the youth (who drove the movement of civil equality) responded with aggressive violent resistance toward the oppressive power structure. A swell of rioting broke out in Black urban centers across America the evening of April 4th 1968 . . . including Boston!

Months before Dr. King’s assassination, James Brown was scheduled to perform at the Boston Garden. However, given the social unrest in Boston by the Black youth, city officials including Boston Mayor Kevin White thought it would be best to cancel the concert in an attempt to restore order amid the growing civil unrest in and around Boston.  However, Boston’s only African American City Councilman, Tom Atkins thought otherwise. He was convinced that allowing the concert to continue would be best for the city in terms of diminishing the-sure-to-come destructive riot.  He was quickly able to convince Mayor White that allowing the concert to go on would allow a space for the youth to release their frustrations in a non-destructive way.  Atkins also suggested the concert be televised on local TV station WGBH to reach the homes of those youth who could not attend the concert.

Photo by Bob Deen Atkins, White, and Brown workin' it out!

Photo by Bob Deen
Atkins, White, and Brown workin’ it out!

His thinking Brown, one of the hottest acts in the country, would be able to persuade the city’s youth to stay in and forego a violent protest in the city.  Mayor White took a gamble and agreed with Atkins.  Atkins, White, and Brown met to work out the money details of a live broadcast.

So, the evening of April 5, 1968, while several urban centers across America experience a second night of rioting in the wake of Dr. King’s assassination, James Brown and his band put on a captivating high energy show, which redirected the youth’s feelings of angst and sorrow to one of a celebration of life and peace. Brown’s presence and music did in fact quiet the hostile youth in the city of Boston and the surrounding urban areas that evening. In the end, Boston experienced no more disruption than a typical Friday night for that city. Boston was saved by James Brown.

What’s more is that the Boston Garden concert was recorded and preserved for us to watch today.  We now have the opportunity to witness the amazing James Brown in action roughly 24hrs after King’s assassination. We can watch his music captivate and stop the youth, city-wide, from violent resistance.  We get to witness the moment Brown’s music emerged as the undisputed musical beacon of Black empowerment following the Boston concert in 1968.

Photo by Bob Deen Brown Live on stage in Boston Garden

Photo by Bob Deen
Brown Live on stage in Boston Garden

From the great words spoken by Atkins, White, and Brown at the beginning of the concert to the driving tempos to Maceo’s Parker’s solo to the pace of the Go Go dancer’s hips to the concert’s ending with Brown’s interjections of Black pride to thwart a sure riot on the Garden stage are not to be missed.  Take a look and listen below and be mindful of how quiet things are in the streets during the time of the concert. James Brown saved Boston!

Enjoy Black Music Month!

For more info on that night check this out!:

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1183486/

See entire concert here:

Ohio Players: Black Body Politics & Honey!

As the saying goes, “a picture is worth a thousand words,” which rings true on closer examination.  Many of us have certainly seen pictures worth a thousand words and more.  That being said, how many words are the images on an album cover worth?

Album covers are meant to give the listening audience a visual clue or insight to the recorded work of the artist.  The images; some simple, some complex in their composition, speak volumes through hyperbole, metaphor, and double entendre images.  Given the decade, album covers made very specific social, cultural, and political commentary that spoke directly to the listening audience of that era.  No era was more prolific in relaying social, cultural, and political messages to a listening audience than the 70s.

The 70s followed the decade of social and political turbulence led by radicals, poets, and misfits who fought for and achieved real cultural change in all aspects in American life including music.  Simple photos of artists on their album covers were now passé.  The 70s demanded more!  Album covers had to say something else besides “look at us/me” (the artist).  The era required thought-provoking, emotional, bewildering, career defining, and indeed controversial album covers.  The Ohio Players stepped up to the plate.

The Ohio Players was (and still is) a funk and R&B band from Dayton Ohio who famously crooned about a funky worm, skin-tight britches, fire, sweet sticky thangs, and a love roller coaster.  Their album covers in the 70s are now legendary.  They constantly make the top 10 Internet list for the best album covers of the 70s and easily top the sexiest album cover lists of all time.  As you will see in this post, Ohio players featured a sexy and scantily clad woman on all of their albums in the 70s.  How many words are their album covers worth? Thousands!!!

Considering the era of the 70s, the Ohio Players’ album covers were more than just gratuitous sexy-women.  The band was engaging in the social, cultural, and political issues of the day.  Ohio Players were, in terms of album cover imagery, in lock step with the climate of the times.

The 70s ushered in a new and bold vision of blackness.  As the black urban community jettisoned out of the 60s, musical spokesperson and ‘soul brotha #1’ James Brown shouted out a new manifesto suited for a new conscious people: “I’m Black and I’m Proud,” and we were.  The new vision of Blackness was righteous, cool, smart, and “sho nuff” beautiful.  The Ohio Players helped to create the musical soundtrack of this era.  Their music communicated the sentiment of the new definition of blackness.  Ohio Players sonically created that familiar black 70s swag.  Moreover, their album covers echoed black romance and the beauty of the black body–a women’s body.

In deliberate synchronicity with Blaxploitation films, their album covers exuded the new 70s black woman.  Gone was the imagery of the Aunt Jemima mammy and wash maids and here to stay was the self-assured, fearless, afro wearing, jumpsuit sporting, shit talking sista that could round house “The Man” in the throat, flip off the pigs, save your little brother from getting hit by a car on his Big Wheel, and lovingly kiss her man on the lips–all at the same time.  This was the image of the popular black woman of the 70s and this was the woman on the album covers of the Ohio Players only a bit more sexy.

Observation In Time, 1968, Capital Records

Although not recorded in the 70s, Ohio Players first album Observations In Time was telling of future album covers to come.

Pain, 1972. This is their first album on the Westbound label.
Photographer is Joel Brodsky. Model is Pat Evans.

Photographer Joel Brodsky, was instrumental in the creation of the Ohio Players album covers.  He wanted to create images of a strong black woman.  In the above photo model Pat Evans is the visual personification of this and more.  Not only is she dominating the man in the photo but she is also afro-less, which shows her defiant nature; this is extreme even in black culture.  Her bald head is a clear sign that she will not be controlled.  Think “Black Moses” Isaac Hayes.

Pleasure, 1972, Westbound

Brodsky album covers contained the “rest of the image” below or above the ‘gate-fold’ (where the album folds).  The folded album would showcase the “featured” image on the cover.  Then once unfolded the image would be “completed” or seen in its entirety to reveal an expanded visual commentary.  Examine the above photo.  Evans on the album cover is seen from mid forearm to shoulder with a facial expression that resembles the title of the album.  However, once the album is unfolded she is revealed to be bound by chains.  Which extends a whole new meaning to the title of the album.

Ecstasy, 1973, Westbound. This is the last Ohio Players album released while still on the Westbound label.  Others albums released on Westbound are compilations of unfinished songs, extra material, and previously released hits.

Brodsky’s images depict Evans as sexy and dominant.  The 70s witnessed the emergence of the black woman as sexy, exotic and erotic.  Black women, in terms of their darker skin color, emerged as objects of desire and the image of beauty.  Women such as Carol Speed, Gloria Hendry, Tamara Dobson, Pam Grier, and first black super model Naomi Sims were embraced for their sexuality and beauty alone.

Skin Tight, 1974 Mercury Records. First album for Mercury. Brodsky nor Evans were employed for the album cover.

Once the Ohio Players moved to Mercury Records, their album covers lost the image of strong black woman.  However, the albums covers did retain the sexy, sensual, and alluring body as the object of desire and muse for the album’s music. Brodsky’s beyond the gate-fold imagery was still utilized.  Mercury’s album covers pressed the sexuality of black woman, which rivaled the sexuality of white women.  Black women were sexy too!

Fire, 1974, Mercury. Heated sexuality.

Climax, 1974, Westbound. This album is composed of extra tracks from their years with the label. There is much commentary below the gate-fold.

Westbound’s image on the Ohio Players Climax album is aimed at the artists.  It revealed how the label felt when the group left and signed a deal with Mercury.  Brodsky and Evans image (a knife in the back) below the gate-fold was controversial.

Honey, 1975, Mercury.  Arguably the most famous Ohio Players album cover.  Check the net for the inner sleeve.

The most popular Ohio Players album cover came complete with a urban tale of hot honey, a deathly scream, and a studio murder, which may of may not have involved the model on the cover Ester Cordet.  Cordet was the first latin (Panamanian) Playboy “playmate of the month” (Miss October 1974). Her African heritage couched her and her body in the black aesthetic of beauty and sensuality.

Rattlesnake, 1975, Westbound.  (Rare)

The Rattlesnake album cover contains the image of a man, woman, and snake.  Evans is in a dominant position here and is in full control of the snake.  The imagery is reminiscent of Adam and Eve and metaphorically Westbound takes another dig at the Ohio Players with the presence of a snake.  (Members of Parliament/Funkadelic are rumored to have played the overdubs on this album of unfinished songs and re-recorded earlier releases.)

Greatest Hits, 1975, Westbound.

Ohio Players previous record label had yet another message for the band on their Greatest Hits cover.  Westbound’s commentary of the Ohio Players lies above the gate-fold.  Evans beauty still persists as did the Ohio Players music.

Contradiction, 1976, Mercury

The Contradiction album is indeed that.  The music contradicts their musical legacy in that it is not very appealing and the horse pictured is credited rather than the model.  This image is highly sexualized, which  plays on the image of the the black stallion metaphor and double entendre.

Gold, 1976, Mercury

Mercury’s release of Ohio Players Gold album was a compilation of the group’s gold records and a response to Westbound’s Grates Hits both sonically and in album cover image.  The model, whose look is similar to Evans, appears to be angelic-like as she flies through the air carrying Ohio Players gold record to the masses.  Her nude body and red cape exude power and femininity.

Angel, 1977, Mercury

The Angel album cover represented the last of the Ohio Players respectful image of the black body.  This should be of no surprise.  The image of the black body was by this time in American society common and had begun to lose its exotic-ness.  The black body had arrived; it was beautiful and could rival and be rivaled by any other body.  In terms of beauty there was a fair amount of parity.  This was reflected in the media and most powerfully seen on television in the form of black cast dramas and sitcoms of the 70s.

Mr. Mean, 1977, Mercury

The Ohio Players appearance on the Mr. Mean album cover ends a steak of not having any band member on cover since 1968.  Although the image of a feminine black body is present, it is, however, stifled by the men.  The model seems to be withdrawn and submissive this is far removed from the strong and controlling images of Westbound’s Brodsky/Evans covers.

Jass-Ay-Lay-Dee, 1978. Last album recorded for Mercury.  No outside gate-fold.

Inside gate-fold

Everybody Up, 1979, Arista

By the end of the 70s, as seen on the Everybody Up album, the unique  esthetic of black beauty had made a change.  Images birthed in the Blaxploitation era have waned and the black body evolved into mere sexual object; a collection of body parts to be desired.  Strong images of black women in terms of black power and feminine sexuality and attached meaning disappeared in the 80s and were reflected on not just the Ohio Players album covers but many other artists album covers as well.  The era of social and cultural commentary on black body politics and honey (beauty) was over.

Want more info on the Ohio Players? Check here:

http://wfnk.com/ohioplayers/index2.html

http://www.allmusic.com/artist/the-ohio-players-p5062

More photos of Pat Evans

Soul and The Business of Music

So, I’m still reeling from the comments made a few weeks ago by Terius Youngdell Nash a.k.a. The Dream when he said, “Blacks can’t do soul records anymore.”  Maybe reeling is too strong of a word and over emphasizes my response to what he said. Let’s just say his statement has kept me thinking about the state of Black music and the music industry for quite a few days now.  My prolonged thinking about his statement is not predicated on if what he said may or may not be true but rather what I hear on the radio in terms of soul music.  I don’t hear it!  You see, for some time, I’ve heard people say that Black music is changing–artists don’t sing like they used to and the music lacks a certain dimension.  The sound that was once front and center in a soul song has now paled in comparison to what was once heard on the radio or is simply missing altogether (think of the vocals and music of Al Greene, Marvin Gaye, Teddy Pendergrass, Aretha Franklin, Patti Labelle, and Chaka Kahn).  This is indeed what I hear from people of a “certain age,” like myself, who have had the opportunity to witness the evolution of music over the past few decades.  From what I hear on the radio Blacks in fact don’t make soul music anymore.

So, I was thinking, “why is this?” and  “why don’t I hear Blacks singing soul music on the radio anymore?  Something has changed.  Is it that Blacks can’t sing with a soul sensibility anymore?  Let me be clear, when I say soul, I’m speaking of a voice, which possesses the ability to grab your attention and drag you through emotional highs and lows weather you want to or not.

Chaka singing soul

I’m speaking of the kind of voice that contains enough power to fill almost any room without being mic’d and can navigate the chordal dynamics of a live band without getting lost in the sonic and melodic interplay of the instruments.  Furthermore, someone who has a bit of musical acuity must wield this voice.  The person wielding this voice can and will stop anyone in their tracks.  It is hard to ignore.

But wait, surprisingly, this voice does in fact exist.  It can be heard in the small clubs, coffee shops, backrooms, the parking lot of churches, rented halls, weddings ceremonies, funerals, and talent contests from New York, Atlanta, to Austin, and Los Angeles.

Marvin Gaye (David Corio/Michael Ochs Archives)

They are just not heard on the radio.  Why not?  The music industry has changed! There has been a disturbance in the force!  I feel record companies have evolved from small enterprises led by individuals who had real interest in music and music culture to large companies run by executives hell-bent on the promotion and sale of a product with huge profits in mind.  At one time, small enterprising leaders were more often than not willing to take a chance on artists and their artistry.  They recognized “talent” and the importance of developing that talent as well as understood the value of uniqueness.  Today, record companies employ executives who are imbued with a business sense and have no real ground level connection to music and its culture.  They do not take chances; it’s not good business sense.  Today’s record company executive is simply about the product and the bottom line.  A question like “Does investing in this individual, group, or band make fiscal sense given our financial outlook and projections this quarter?” is what ultimately drives today’s record company.  Don’t get me wrong, I know the small record enterprises run by individuals with a connection to the music had a bottom line as well.  They too wanted to make a profit.  However, the drive for a profit did not diminish or compromise the integrity of the music, in fact, these individuals wanted to capture the essence of the music and keep theirs and the music’s integrity intact (think Stax, 50s and 60s Atlantic records and Motown).  Being true to the music and letting the artist explore, expand, and flourish in their musical endeavors made great radio several decades ago.

Moreover, record companies are money-making entities refined and designed to profit and are no longer in the business of developing or showcasing soul music and its culture.  For the large music companies (Universal Music Group, Sony/BMG Music Group, Warner Music Group, and EMI) the music and the artists are strictly a product to be sold.  The ear for soul music no longer holds capital within the large companies.  Record companies function in such a way as to make a quick return on their investments.  Taking time to develop an artist is a no go–artists’ music must be immediately viable.  In order to do this, record companies must continuously seek out the next popular “sensation” to market and sell, which by its very design the product tends to be disposable.  As a result, speaking for myself, in terms of soul music, when I listen to the radio I am subjected to less than mediocre efforts.  Gone are the intelligent soulful hyperboles and any decent poetic aesthetic imbedded in lyrics.  Ultimately, to a certain extent, record company executives become the final arbiter of musical taste of an entire population.  Are you serious?!!!!

In the end, can Blacks do soul records?  Yes, they can.  They can record songs thick with cultural history individual talent and musical skill that will sit you down.  But these recordings will not be found on the radio.  Record companies neither have the ear nor the financial drive for Black soul music. That’s okay, the Dream and I can listen to Internet radio!

Zagora: Soul, Relationships, and Travel

In 1986, the British Soul, Electronic Groove, and R&B dance band Loose Ends released their 3rd studio album titled Zagora.  This album was every bit of brilliant in terms of its musical orchestration, lyrical content, and its overall theme.  In the arena of smooth, sexy, and sophisticated R&B Zagora easily held its own among the best R&B albums in the mid 80s.  Still reeling from their hugely successful debut album A Little Spice, which contained the hits “Dial 999” and of course the stylish “Hangin’ On A String” as well as their sophomore album effort So Where Are You? (U.K. release) in ’85, Loose Ends entered the mid-eighties with a musical masterpiece . . . Zagora!  It is for this very reason, I feel, Zagora needs to be re-reviewed and at least lightly analyzed.  I may be coming from the place of a “fan-boy” here but I think this album is all that and a bag of chips. Loose Ends was/is one of my favorite bands.

60s Black London

Loose Ends (L.E.) formed in London in the early 80s.  The group was a trio that consisted of the wonderful Carl McIntosh, the vocal siren and beauty Jane Eugene, and the musically gifted Steve Nichol.  Collectively, these three were able to convey the intricate and nuanced and even historical elements of American Black Soul to a listening audience.  This is a remarkable feat considering they were not part of the African-American freedom struggle; in the sense that African Americans have created a musical legacy, which helped propel them through an epoch of strife and ultimately on to freedom.  African-American artists habitually draw from this unique musical legacy to imbue their music with a certain historical familiarity, expression, and purpose.  Ergo the spirit of pain, jubilation, and freedom can be heard in all forms of African-American music.  Somehow, L.E. was able to tap into that crucial legacy and create a soulful sound and groove–one that resonates especially well with African-American audiences.  Is it possible that L.E. was able to draw similar musical elements from the historical perils of Black London’s route to equality that ranged from racial discrimination, the Windrush emigration, to the Commonwealth Immigration Act(s), and on to the Honorable Learie Constantine’s struggle for Black liberation?  It is also possible L.E. tapped into the intricate and nuanced musical elements of Soul through a collective Black diasporic experience? I think yes!  But I digress. . .

L.E. emerged as the leading R&B and Soul band of the 80s out of Europe.   A few of L.E’s British R&B and Soul contemporaries at the time were Linx, David Grant, Hot Chocolate, Billy Ocean, Junior, Sade, Mica Paris, and Fine Young Cannibals.

Sade Power Plant 1985

These artists were part of the second wave of the “British music invasion” of the 80s and represented fresh R&B and Soul music from across the pond.  L.E. stood at the forefront of this soulful British entourage.

During the 80s L.E. worked almost exclusively with music producer Nick Martinelli, who had roots with Motown and earned his stripes in Philadelphia.  He worked with and produced albums and songs for the S.O.S. Band, Mtume, Phyllis Hyman, Eugene Wilde, Stephanie Mills, and Gladys Knight. Martinelli brought a Motown savvy-ness and an established Philadelphia vibe to his production, which made for a sexy and smooth R&B sound. Martinelli imparted his distinctive knowledge and musical approach to L.E. and the Zagora album.

In 1986 and 1987 the Zagora album peaked on the R&B Billboard chart at #7 and #59 respectively and contained several hit songs that found their place on the singles chart as well.  Martinelli along with McIntosh, Eugene, and Nichol created an album with songs saturated in sexy, soulful, and intimate grooves while at the same time flushed with a myriad of global rhythms and sounds. The album’s concept finds the members of L.E. stranded in a desert in need of help.  According to the website Black Evolution, L.E.’s press release constructs a visual and sonic landscape for the album, which drives the theme.  It states

The car breaks down, they are out of water, lost and in the distance they can hear the faint crack of gun shots. The gun shots come from a tribe of nomads, who give them water and send them in the direction of a nearby village, called ‘Zagora’ . . . a real paradise in the middle of nowhere.

The album cover visually supports their “situation” as it depicts the trio with eyes fixed on the distant horizon where presumably relief and paradise can be found.

Loose Ends just outside of Zagora

Zagora is, in fact, a real city in the desert of Morocco.  It is from this locale that L.E. begins what is in essence a travel narrative in sound where the location provides the musical backdrop to illuminate the complexities of a vacillating relationship between two people.  Various levels of desire and intensity that make up a relationship are explored in song to reveal the emotional ebb and flow of love.  The precariousness and dramatics of relationships while in an assumed paradise is the overall theme of Zagora.

The few songs reviewed and “analyzed” here are on the U.S. version of the album.

To begin, the mid-tempo, dance groove single “Stay A While Child” peaked at #18 on the Billboard R&B chart in 1986.  It explored the desire of escalating a relationship from a mere friendship to a committed union and the loss of it all brought about by that vary escalation.  The music of this recording suggests this narrative took place in Zagora itself as it contains echoes of traditional Moroccan music embedded in an R&B groove.  For example the song’s intro immediately confronts the audience with traditional Moroccan sounding percussion made up of drums, cymbals, and chimes coupled with a blaring zurna: a Mediterranean wind instrument that resembles the physical aesthetics and sound of a clarinet in its upper octave.  The zurna, with its unique sound and utilization of a foreign scale leads the listener into L.E.’s familiar and infectious groove.  As the recording progresses it develops a strong R&B feel (2 and 4) while also retaining traditional Moroccan musical elements.  The vocals of the song are fashioned in a call and response style as Eugene and McIntosh take turns crooning the merits and pitfalls of escalating a friendship to a loving union.  Their vocal performance on this cut was convincing as Eugene pleaded for her sought after lover to stay and give love a chance.  Meanwhile, McIntosh mused on how the escalation may cause an end to their friendship.  This type of call and response through verse creates a palpable tension that is never resolved, which is evident in the fading chorus toward the end of the song.  Eugene repeatedly interlaces between the chorus lines of “don’t leave me” with the lyric “stay a while child,” while McIntosh adlibs “you know I got to go” signifying the escalation may not have been the right thing to do to in terms of their friendship.

The next track on the album is “Slow Down.”  This song peaked at #1 on the Billboard R&B singles chart in 1986.  The song’s electronic instrumentation was, as far as I know, well orchestrated by McIntosh and Nichol.  I feel this up-tempo jam depicts the trio in motion.  Its driving tempo and title suggests movement and thus I surmise they are moving out of Zagora and on to other places.  Also, absent are the traditional Moroccan instruments and their unique rhythm and sound, which further indicates movement out of Zagora.  The rustic instruments are replaced by the sounds of a synthesizer, which was immensely popular in R&B music during the 80s.  The theme of this song articulates a yearning to speed up or advance the development of a relationship in the midst of one partner’s struggle and unwillingness to “settle down.”  Again, through call and response, Eugene portrayed the character whom harbors a desire for love and commitment, while McIntosh takes on the character whom is not quite ready to engage in a committed relationship . . . yet!  Through indignant demands and hurt feelings, Eugene implores McIntosh to commit.  He responds in the chorus to her commands with “slow down, cause I can’t take the heat.”  Frustrated, one verse suggests that Eugene will have to replace him in the relationship if he des not get with the so-called program of loving her.  McIntosh defiantly responds in the verse “then I guess that’s how it’s got to be, you for you and me for me.”  I imagine McIntosh saying this while doing the Kanye shrug– he could care less at this moment about any relationship.

The infamous Kanye Shrug. "I don't give a . . . .!"

However, there is a turning point in the song and McIntosh has a change of heart.  Eugene poses the question “Now tell me what you’re going through?”  And rather than a cantoric response from McIntosh, a soloing saxophone abruptly emerges as his vocal avatar, answering Eugene’s question in a rhythmic guttural grow full of angst, turmoil, and self-riotousness about his fear of a committed relationship.  From this point on in the recording McIntosh gives in and relinquishes his fight against a pursuing relationship.  He did more than just slow down, he stopped.

L.E. recorded keyboardist Dexter Wansel’s 1979 hit “Sweetest Pain.”  I’m almost certain Martinelli, who was its original producer, introduced the song to the group.  The original song featured Terri Wells on lead vocals and the Jones Girls on background.  Being careful not to lose the overall feel of this sincere Soul burner, L.E. made very little changes to the song; they even chose to leave in its very disco (and dated sounding for 1986) chorus.  This song continues the theme of relationships by describing the emotional and physical intensities of love.  Crooned by Eugene, whose voice easily rivals Wells, takes the listener into the center of a powerful and fully functioning relationship.  She explores the mental and physical toll of love as it takes her through the paces of its painful march, which according to Wansel and now Eugene and the gang is the sweetest pain.  In terms of the travel narrative, Eugene begins to speak in French and their location becomes ambiguous.  Have they traveled to France to continue their love affair in Paris or are they near the “village” of Zagora?  It may be possible they have moved to other parts of Morocco where the country does speak proper French.  I guess in paradise anything is possible.

The recording “Who are you?” is an unapologetic, musically well crafted, funny, and playful up-tempo song that should have entered the single charts.  Conversely to “Sweetest Pain,” “Who are you?” examines the drama of an ill-conceived and dysfunctional relationship, which propelled the participants into a state of confusion regarding the familiarity of the other.  The recording is smartly constructed in terms of its musical references and its nod to 60s era cinema, which was very evident to the perceptive listener.  The song begins with the strumming of a guitar in the style of flamenco.  Tight trumpets blasts out a tight mariachi like cadent and wooden sounding xylophones keep a decidedly Latin time accompany the guitar.  The rhythm, sound, and tempo are quickly established.  At this point McIntosh begins to narrate, in a weak Spanish accent or drawl, a playful story that defines the comical.  He states:

They came from over the hills. They took my land; they took everything I have, my children, oh yeah, my wife–they killed my wife, but most of all they stole my last Clint Eastwood movie!

This bit of narration is brilliant in that it is able to convey to the listener simultaneously a stereotypical 60s “Western” cinematic Mexican character, a specific film genre, and the image of an iconic cinematic actor all couched in a playful spirit.  What L.E. has done here is resurrect the imagery of the “spaghetti western” of the 60s then placed the drama of a dysfunctional relationship in its plot.  In the intro, L.E. borrows and interprets Tuco’s motif in the 1966 film The Good Bad and The Uglycomposed by Ennio Morricone.

1966 GBU Soundtrack

Echoes of Tuco’s motif, which was comprised of yodeling voices can be heard in the songs musical intro in essence foretelling the listener of the wild, crazy, and certainly ugliness that a dysfunctional relationship can bring about.  Amid the fully developed bouncy R&B groove with musical elements borrowed from Morricone, Eugene and McIntosh engage in playful banter throughout the verse and chorus of misdeeds and lies.  McIntosh, towards the end of the song states he is Mexican in the same weak Spanish accent heard in the opening narrative, which further confused Eugene and the listener of his identity.  It seems at this point in the album L. E. has moved out of Zagora, Morocco and are now in Spain or Mexico or possibly in a 60s spaghetti western.

“You Can’t Stop The Rain” is the quintessential grown and sexy R&B cut.  In this song L.E. created a sexy in the moment and intimate vibe that conjures up the image of skin on skin movement, slow hands sliding over stomach and thighs, while bodies are tangled in Italian silk imported Egyptian sheets.  It is sensual to say the least.  Musically the song is exceptional from the beginning to end.  The introduction materializes with the sound of heavy rain hitting the pavement.  Most often the sound of rain symbolizes loss, sadness, despair, and loneliness, however, in this cut rain evokes feelings of in the moment intimacy between two lovers.  This intimate moment was recreated a year later by Herb Alpert in his single “Making Love In The Rain,” which also contained heavy rain in its introduction and featured Lisa Keith and Janet Jackson on vocals, which added a definite sexiness to it (at least for me it did).  As much sexiness as it is in the rain intro Eugene’s smooth crescendo “Ooohs” takes the song up a notch.  Her voice enters as a flawless call to love.  On this recording Eugene’s smooth silky underrated voice really shines here.  There is no doubt she was among the top female singers of the mid 80s.  In a true duet style, McIntosh’s voice keeps pace with Eugene’s.  Although not on par with some of the male singers of this era, his voice was indeed distinctive and capable.  And at some points his voice taps the tone of Marvin Gaye ever so briefly.  But, what McIntosh lacked in vocal range he made up in his ability to continuously impart a deep felt passion and sincerity needed to make a L.E. song soar.  Evidence of this is can be heard in his one and only verse of the song and his ever-present vocal interjections throughout the tune.  Furthermore, Eugene and McIntosh intensify the sense of intimacy in “You Can’t Stop The Rain” as they employ what L.A. producer Louis White and I suggest what could be called a chant.  The two harmonize the chant in unison and in doing so create a sort of language only two lovers in the moment of intimacy can understand.  It’s brilliantly done and spot on!  This song places the trio squarely in the middle of paradise.  They have long since left Zagora and are neither here nor there.  They are in that place of warm contentment, love, peace, and understanding.  This place paradise is just the right spot for a respite from the realities of relationships amid dusty places.

L.E. R&B and Soul's Magic Touch

These are but a few songs off the Zagora album.  This album in 1986 was musically and lyrically ahead of its time as it still resonates today.  The trio managed to create a sonic landscape in a far away place that became just the right setting to explore the throws of relationships.  Through R&B grooves that move, bounce, and grind with smooth grown ass sexiness L.E. certainly captured the Black Diaspora Soul that vibes with and communicates to its audience from similar historical places.  Zagora’s travel narrative reminds us of the wide range of relationships and how they drive our lives in the here and now and in paradise.