Album Reviews

Lou Reed “Metal Machine Music” (RCA, 1975)

Here it is, Lou Reed‘s most controversial and divisive release. I know a critic who hates the Velvet Underground and all Reed solo records—except for Metal Machine Music. There are probably a fair amount of noiseniks who share that opinion. On the other hand, about 99.3% of humanity would likely run screaming from MMM after 32 seconds of track one. In between those extremes are reasonable folks such as your blogger, who have plenty of time for VU’s catalog, who own a grip of Lou solo LPs, and who will spin MMM every few years, just to clean out the pipes. Like a mental enema, or something. It’s called cranial hygiene. Look into it.

Anyway… MMM stands as one of the most disruptive aesthetic decisions in a legendary rock artist’s career. (Can you imagine the looks on the faces of RCA’s brass and PR department upon first clapping ears to it?) The sounds on this 64-minute double album (divided into four sidelong pieces) are almost unprecedented in Lou’s career. Maybe only certain parts of the Velvets’ “I Heard Her Call My Name” and “Sister Ray” approach MMM‘s relentless discord and torrents of corroded, chromium tones that wash over you like radioactive sludge.

Of course in 2026, MMM doesn’t sound as confrontational as it did 51 years ago. So many releases since have taken the noise genre to more extreme realms (hear: Merzbow, Masonna, Whitehouse, et al.). But none except for Pat Metheny’s Zero Tolerance For Silence and Neil Young & Crazy Horse’s Arc appeared on an American major label, as MMM did.

Blandly classified on the front cover as “An Electronic Instrumental Composition,” MMM can be viewed as a soliloquy of nihilism and a sonic middle finger extended to RCA Records. It’s more punk than any canonical or cult-fave punk record, even though it surfaced a year before punk arose as a codified genre. Or, MMM can be construed as perhaps the most abrasive ambient album ever. The album’s ability to elude easy categorization is one of its strengths.

In his original liner notes, Reed writes with a speed-freak’s reckless clarity and hilarity. He seems at once facetious and utterly serious. “This record is not for parties/dancing/background, romance. This is what I meant about ‘real’ rock… Most of you won’t like this, and I don’t blame you at all. It’s not meant for you.” Everyone who bought “Walk On The Wild Side” and boogied to “Rock And Roll” must have been mortified.

As The Stranger’s Dave Segal wrote on the Seattle paper’s blog in 2015: “MMM is the Big Bang of noise rock, a monument to artistic freedom and hubris, a testament to the superiority of uppers, and an efficacious lease-breaker… It’s a fathomless howl from a tormented soul who’d undergone shock therapy yet also written some of the tenderest ballads ever to coax tears from curmudgeons. It’s an aural signifier of a significant portion of the human condition, splattered onto tape with surgical care, ready to be dipped into at any point in its hour-plus trajectory of disgust. There is a kind of bruised-armor dignity in its occasional spikes of triumphal fanfares. Metal Machine Music commiserates with your misery—with more of the same.” Maybe not coincidentally, Segal tells me that his tinnitus has been worse than ever this year.

The avant-garde classical ensemble Zeitkratzer later performed MMM at the MaerzMusik festival in 2002, lending the oft-scorned LP a degree of respectability. Damn the haters; Lou had the last rueful laugh. -Buckley Mayfield

Located in Seattle’s Fremont neighborhood, Jive Time is always looking to buy your unwanted records (provided they are in good condition) or offer credit for trade. We also buy record collections.

Love “False Start” (Blue Thumb, 1970)

As Jon Treneff said in a review of Four Sail on this blog in 2012, “Some would argue that Love lost much of the magic that initially drew listeners in after the career-defining Forever Changes – that Lee had nothing left to say and nowhere to go. An understandable stance, in light of his already significant achievements, but simply not true.” Accurate observation! Listeners who write off post-Forever Changes Love miss out on some amazing songs. The LA band’s sixth album, False Start, is a case in point.

With the original Love lineup long gone, main songwriter Arthur Lee ventured into harder rock territory, but without sacrificing his acute ear for memorable melodies and talent for emotive singing. He had total creative control and hired some heady jammers (lead guitarist Gary Rowles, bassist Frank Fayad, drummer George Suranovich, and rhythm guitarist Nooney Rickett) to back him in his quest to reinvent his b(r)and. For better or worse, the days of having his label (Elektra) enlist Wrecking Crew session musicians to help Lee realize his ambitious ideas were over.

Instead, Lee convinced Mr. Jimi Hendrix to sit in with Love, and the fruits of that collab surface on False Start‘s dazzling opener, “The Everlasting First.” Hendrix’s guitar flamboyantly corkscrews over one of Lee’s most poignant melodies and soulfully fried vocal performances, and one wishes we had more material from the godlike duo. “Flying” is not a cover of the Beatles’ wonderful near instrumental, but rather a piano-laced, maniacally cheerful ditty with Mott The Hoople vibes. “Flying’s a wonderful thing,” Lee sings with utmost sincerity, and only a fool would disagree. And in case you missed it, Love included a live version of “Stand Out,” a standout from the 1969 double album Out Here. It’s burly anthemic rock that could’ve appeared on the legendary Black Chains And Exhaust comp featuring obscure Black groups flexing wild psych-rock muscles.

About half of False Start consists of flinty blues rock that might fit nicely onto a Free or Electric Flag LP. The peak of this style appears on “Feel Daddy Feel Good.” An ode to a drug dealer, this is filthy, extravagant blues rock that sounds like a cross between Shuggie Otis and Led Zeppelin. “Ride That Vibration” offers a slight return to Forever Changes‘ featherlight psych pop and Lee’s more tender vocal delivery (until the freakout interlude), but slathered with Rowles’ guitar-hero theatrics.

Last but best, “Gimi A Little Break.” Surely most Love fans consider this a trifle, if indeed they’ve even heard it. But I’m a sucker for any singer who can extend the word “shine” into five syllables, as Lee does on this bubblegum-glam mood-elevator, with cowbell and Rowles’ scorching guitar solo enhancing things. It’s only 2:10, but “Gimi A Little Break” is one of the most enjoyable post-Forever Changes songs—as well as being the tune with which I’m most obsessed right now. I’ve been listening to it about six times a day this month, as if my sanity depends on it—because, in our current timeline, it does.

False Start hasn’t been reissued on vinyl in the US since 1970, which is a travesty. Come on, American labels—do the right thing and get this overlooked gem back into print. -Buckley Mayfield

Located in Seattle’s Fremont neighborhood, Jive Time is always looking to buy your unwanted records (provided they are in good condition) or offer credit for trade. We also buy record collections.

The Meters “Rejuvenation” (Reprise, 1974)

After blueprinting the minimalist funk style that triggered hundreds of hip-hop samples on their self-titled debut album, New Orleans foursome the Meters laid down a heavier, busier brand of funk five years later on their consensus late-career peak, Rejuvenation.

Produced by the sainted Allen Toussaint, who also arranged horns, Rejuvenation finds the Meters refining and beefing up their funk to the more stringent demands of mid-’70s ears and butts. The starkly funky “People Say”—which has been sampled 25 times—sets the tone with Leo Nocentelli’s chicken-scratch guitar, George Porter Jr.’s thrusting bass, and Ziggy Modeliste’s precise, deceptively complex beats. And while Art Neville sings with adequate power and soulfulness, I still think that the Meters truly excel as a strictly instrumental unit. Whatever the case, the Meters sound lean and muscular in their second prime.

Covered by Joe Cocker, the gospel-tinged soul ballad “Love Is For Me” is not the Meters’ forte, but they acquit themselves well here nonetheless. In a somewhat similar lane, “Loving You Is On My Mind” is lush R&B that angles hard for radio play. To put it bluntly, this is not what I come to the Meters for. Rather, it’s for classics such as “Just Kissed My Baby,” merely one of the funkiest pieces of music humanity’s ever laid down. No wonder it’s been sampled about 70 times, including by Public Enemy, EPMD, Mobb Deep, and Dream Warriors. Porter’s bass and Nocentelli’s guitar generate so much lubricious friction, as Neville boasts, “I feel like a king, yeah, ’cause I just kissed my baby.” Speaking of babies, many of them were probably conceived to this scorcher.

If you dig gritty funk in the War and Mandrill vein, “What’cha Say” will satisfy, with some of the Meters’ most intricate in and interesting vocal arrangements. Even better is “Jungle Man,” sick dub-leaning funk that sounds like Jimmy Castor Bunch jamming with Sly & Robbie. The segue into “Hey Pocky A-way,” with its humid and wonderfully slack rhythm, is perfect. This is exemplary New Orleans funk, verging on a “Bo Diddley in dub” effect. Nocentelli gets off some wily rock-star guitar solos on “It Ain’t No Use,” nearly 12 minutes of mellifluous, funky R&B in the Isley Brothers vein. Rejuvenation ends with “Africa,” a torqued, tense funk workout that not even the Red Hot Chili Peppers—who covered it on Freaky Styley—could ruin.

While subsequent releases such as Fire On The Bayou and New Directions had occasional flashes of brilliance, Rejuvenation remains the last great Meters record and a milestone of mid-’70s funk—as well as a wellspring of hip-hop source material. -Buckley Mayfield

Located in Seattle’s Fremont neighborhood, Jive Time is always looking to buy your unwanted records (provided they are in good condition) or offer credit for trade. We also buy record collections.

The Action “Brain (The Lost Recordings 1967/68)” (Dig The Fuzz, 1995)

The fantastic London group the Action seemed poised for stardom in the mid ’60s. They had the Fifth Beatle, George Martin, in their corner, producing five of their singles, which fused Motown soul with jittery mod moves. Unfortunately, none of those 45s hit. Shifting with the times in 1967, the Action cut some demos that reflected their mastery of psychedelia. Despite the outstanding quality of the 14 songs recorded in ’67 and ’68, they remained unreleased until the mid ’90s, whereupon critics justifiably flipped over their indelible melodies and emotional depth.

Reg King (vocals), Alan King (guitar, vocals—no relation), Martin Stone (lead guitar), Ian Whiteman (keyboards, flute, vocals), Michael Evans (bass, vocals), and Roger Powell (drums) were mainly influenced by the Byrds and John Coltrane (they covered the former’s “I See You” and the latter’s “India” early in their career), but ultimately subsumed those artists’ qualities into their own charismatic identity. In Reg King, the Action possessed a frontman with pipes almost as soulful as Steve Marriott’s; in fact, Small Faces‘ label, Immediate, briefly showed interest in the Action, but bafflingly passed on them. After all that hard luck, the Action changed direction again, becoming Mighty Baby and embracing a sprawling prog-psych approach. Today, Mighty Baby actually inspire more listener interest than the Action. I say you should make room on your shelves for both artists.

Anyway, let’s discuss how great Brain is; please note that it’s been reissued several times under the title Rolled Gold, with the last being in 2023 by Spanish label Guerssen. Even though these are demos, you can hear the Action’s glorious psychedelia flowering from the opener, “ Come Around,” whose courtly songsmithing bears the melodic splendor of fellow UK psych-pop wonders Kaleidoscope. “Icarus” is airy psych rock that foreshadows some early Yes melodic contours while the LP’s most jazz-oriented track, “Love Is All,” soars with Eastern-inflected, flute-powered verve, and with a very tough rhythm section. By contrast, “Things You Cannot See” is an utterly gorgeous ballad, up there with Nazz/Todd Rundgren‘s “Hello It’s Me” and the careening, anthemic rocker “Look At The View” is as great as anything the Creation did—just a roller-coaster ride of absolute joy. And seemingly for sheer giggles, the Action grind out Steppenwolf-esque biker sike on “Follow Me.”

The greatness really escalates with “Strange Roads,” one of the most sublime songs of the ’60s. Exquisite backing vocal harmonies, fried, rococo guitar riffs, Reg’s commanding vocal performance, and a bridge of radiant freakbeat swagger coalesce into a masterpiece. This song, to quote Judee Sill, is heart food. Even better somehow is “Brain,” simply one of the most heart-wrenching rock songs I’ve ever heard. Over a poignant wah-wah-guitar squawk and a deceptively complex rhythm, King sings with killing conviction, “Take your brain, it’s time to go/And you don’t have long you know/Remember me, remember me/’Cause I’m the one who made you see/Remember me.” The words don’t look that impressive on the screen, but King’s delivery sells them, and then some. Beginning with a guitar part that echoes that of “Dear Prudence,” “In My Dream” closes Brain/Rolled Gold with some exceptional, valedictorian psych—a tear-jerkingly beautiful ballad that arcs skyward like an eagle.

It’s long past time that the Action received acclaim matching that of Britain’s most important ’60s rock groups. Consider this review as a nudge toward that goal. -Buckley Mayfield

Located in Seattle’s Fremont neighborhood, Jive Time is always looking to buy your unwanted records (provided they are in good condition) or offer credit for trade. We also buy record collections.

Billy Cobham “Spectrum” (Atlantic, 1973)

Mahavishnu Orchestra drummer Billy Cobham’s Spectrum is one of the greatest debut solo albums ever. It peaked at #26 on the Billboard albums chart, which tells you how sophisticated listening audiences were in 1973-74. However, not so sophisticated was the opinion of self-proclaimed “Dean of Rock Critics,” Robert Christgau, who called Spectrum “slick, gimmicky, and one-dimensional” in his Consumer Guide column in the Village Voice. Right then, he should’ve been ejected from the academy. Anyway…

Recorded in a couple of days, with all of the tracks completed in one or two takes, Spectrum features the innovative Jan Hammer on Moog synth and electric and acoustic piano and James Gang/Deep Purple guitarist Tommy Bolin scorching the stereo field on several tracks. On opener “Quadrant 4,” everyone’s off the blocks like Olympic 100-meter sprinters. Bolin’s in hyper-intricate, amphetamine-fueled typist mode, with hammer ons galore, Jan Hammer’s generating crazily warped emissions, Cobham’s at his speedy and powerful best, and bassist Lee Sklar’s pumping out the roiling undercurrent. Holy shit, “Quadrant 4” is the fusion burner against which all fusion burners must be measured! Sorry, Mahavishnu Orchestra, Tony Williams Lifetime, and Return To Forever.

The title track’s fluttery fusion that possesses an Airto/Flora Purim brand of jittery elegance. Joe Farrell’s soaring soprano sax solo lifts this to lofty heights while Jimmy Owens’ flugelhorn solo adds graceful melodic beauty. Ron Carter’s acoustic bass and Ray Barretto’s congas further class up the joint. Another standout is the very bullish “Taurian Matador,” in which Bolin broke his high E string during a solo while making his instrument squeal in weird tongues and Hammer frazzles nerves with his mad synth ripples.

Side two peaks with the nearly 10-minute “Stratus,” which Massive Attack famously sampled for “Safe From Harm.” A spacey intro leads into a Hammer tour de force of turbulent synth percolations as Cobham gives his entire kit an artful tattooing. Three minutes in, Sklar’s famous bass throb enters and the cooking intensifies to a simmering ominousness. Once more, Bolin asserts himself as a guitar hero for the ages, as if he were trying to out John McLaughlin John McLaughlin. Sklar thumbs out muscular Holger Czukay-like bass cable while Cobham adds athletic fills to his steady proto-trip-hop beats. “Stratus” thoroughly debunks the common belief that fusion isn’t sexy. With John Tropea providing easy-going comping on guitar and Hammer getting floridly sinuous on synth, “Le Lis” finesses some Elysian beach jazz of exquisite mellowness and pulchritude. Sweet relief!

“Snoopy’s Search” finds Hammer going HAM on Moog, which leads into “Red Baron,” a slice of subliminal jazz-funk hipness that’s become a fertile source of hip-hop and trip-hop samples for artists such as Common, Compton’s Most Wanted, Material, and DJ Food. The track’s rhythm has a rolling inevitability that demands repeat plays. In the head-nod hall of fame, “Red Baron” makes you feel 83% cooler than you actually are.

Odds are, a pretty good a decent copy of Spectrum‘s sitting in a bargain bin near you. It remains one of the top examples of cheap heat on the planet. -Buckley Mayfield

Located in Seattle’s Fremont neighborhood, Jive Time is always looking to buy your unwanted records (provided they are in good condition) or offer credit for trade. We also buy record collections.

Harold Budd “The Pavilion Of Dreams” (Editions E.G., 1978)

Through years of rigorous research, I’ve found that Harold Budd’s music ranks among the best for facilitating the transition from wakefulness to sleep. If you think that’s a derogatory statement, you don’t understand the importance of sound slumber to mental and physical health. And if you believe that music that helps you to get some shut-eye is, ipso facto, boring, you need to open your mind.

[Stepping off my soapbox] As a keyboardist and composer, Budd had one of the nicest soft touches in music. Odd, because Budd’s origins lie in bebop and he played drums in an Army band with free-jazz titan Albert Ayler. Gradually, though, Budd gravitated to the minimalist, pacific approach that drew him into Brian Eno and Gavin Bryars’ orbit of ambient geniuses. The rest is tranquil sonic history.

Described as “an extended cycle of works begun in 1972,” The Pavilion Of Dreams was produced by Eno, and it shows. It kicks off with the 18-minute 1974 opus, “Bismillahi ‘Rrahman ‘Rrahim.” Composed for Marion Brown, it features the great jazzman on alto sax. Joining him are Budd on electric piano, of course, four marimba players, including Michael Nyman, Bryars on glockenspiel, Maggie Thomas on harp, and Richard Bernas on celeste. One of the pinnacles of Budd’s career, this unspeakably gorgeous work is marked by Brown’s über-chill alto sax trills and mellow melisma (talk about a gentle tour de force), Budd’s gleaming electric piano, and Bryars’ glistening glockenspiel. The peace this composition brings is nearly unsurpassed. It almost makes Miles Davis’ In A Silent Way sound like a free-jazz blowout.

Things can’t help sounding a little anticlimactic after this. “Let Us Go Into The House Of The Lord”—a traditional hymn that Pharoah Sanders previously had adapted—features mezzo soprano Lynda Richardson’s spiritual, operatic singing and Thomas’ lean, pretty harp cascades. It’s nice enough, but it’s not really what I come to Budd for. Ditto for “Butterfly Sunday, which was adapted from John Coltrane’s “After The Rain,” one of his most languid ballads. “Rosetti Noise” and “The Crystal Garden And A Coda” are serene art songs with more of Richardson’s sonorous, wordless vocalizing, underscored by pastel dapples of electric piano. On “Juno,” Eno provides lovely, distant “aaahhh”s and Budd dramatic chord progressions on piano in this caressing, low-lit jazz jewel, which Bill Evans surely loved… assuming he heard it.

The Pavilion Of Dreams isn’t Budd’s best album; that would probably be Ambient 2 (The Plateaux Of Mirrors), The Pearl (with Eno and Daniel Lanois), or The Oak Of The Golden Dreams. But in “Bismillahi ‘Rrahman ‘Rrahim,” it boasts one of the world’s most beautiful and calming tracks, an immortal, blood-pressure-lowering miracle. -Buckley Mayfield

Located in Seattle’s Fremont neighborhood, Jive Time is always looking to buy your unwanted records (provided they are in good condition) or offer credit for trade. We also buy record collections.

Afrique “Soul Makossa” (Mainstream, 1973)

Afrique were a one-and-done instrumental super group of session cats whose sole album is a mildly eclectic funk classic that’s become a sample gold mine. The band’s best-known names are Chuck Rainey (bass), King Errisson (percussion), Paul Humphrey (percussion), and David T. Walker (guitar). For Soul Makossa, they divided the album sides into covers and originals; the latter were written by Richard Fritz, a composer who had strong associations with Afrique organist Charles Kynard and Blue Mitchell.

Side 1’s full of excellent interpretations of R&B, pop, funk, and African tunes of varying notoriety. You really can’t go wrong by opening your album with one of the ultimate party jams, Cameroonian saxophonist Manu Dibango‘s Afro-funk flame-thrower “Soul Makossa.” Maybe you’ve heard it interpolated into Michael Jackson‘s “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’” and/or Will Smith’s “Gettin’ Jiggy Wit It,” but it’s best when actual superior musicians take a crack at it, as Afrique do here. Manu had to be happy about this rendition, and not just because of the royalties. Afrique’s “Kissing My Love” might be funkier than Bill Withers‘ original, which was one of the late, great musician’s funkiest cuts. The wah-wah guitar calligraphy here is outrageously expressive and Kynard’s organ tone flows somewhere between Billy Preston and Tonto’s Expanding Head Band‘s Robert Margouleff’s. And that’s a great place to flow, y’all.

Santo & Johnny’s “Sleepwalk” is a paragon of woozy, dreamy balladry, and Afrique give it a sweet, subdued treatment, highlighted by Walker or Arthur Wright’s chikka-wakka guitar and Steve Kravitiz’s purring baritone sax. Written by Frank Brunson of the People’s Choice, “Let Me Do My Thing” is a high-steppin’ R&B number with yet more wah-wah guitar embroidery, which kind of sounds like walk-on music for contestants of the ’60s TV show The Dating Game (yes, I’m old). The title “Slow Motion” is a misnomer, because this Kenny Gamble/Leon Huff joint twitches with alacrity, similar to Lightnin’ Rod’s “Sport.” It’s hip, lean blaxploitation-flick funk with uplifting horn flourishes.

Side 2 begins auspiciously with “Hot Mud,” as Kynard gets off some sick, warped organ riffs and solos in this low-key funk bubbler, which also boasts a phenomenally serpentine guitar solo by Walker (or is it Wright?). The methodical and funky as hell “House Of Rising Funk” has unsurprisingly become a big sample source. Whosampled lists 54 examples of such borrowing, with artists as disparate as Meat Beat Manifesto, Neneh Cherry, N.W.A., Four Tet, and DJ Q-Bert doing the deed. As for “Dueling Guitars,” gosh almighty, this is nasty, hot-roddin’ funk with the 12-string fireworks promised in the title. The LP’s last two songs, “Hot Doggin’” and “Get It” are middling rhythm & blues jaunts, but the playing is uniformly spectacular.

There are some recent vinyl reissues of this crate-diggers classic floating around, but they’re not very common in the wild. Seems like most people who own Soul Makossa have the good sense not to let go of it. Get to hunting. -Buckley Mayfield

Located in Seattle’s Fremont neighborhood, Jive Time is always looking to buy your unwanted records (provided they are in good condition) or offer credit for trade. We also buy record collections.

Ginger Baker “Horses And Trees” (Celluloid, 1986)

If you think you really know master drummer Ginger Baker, listening to Horses And Trees may change your impression of his music. Produced by Bill Laswell, Horses And Trees sounds more like a 1980s Laswell joint than it does anything by Cream, Blind Faith, Ginger Baker’s Air Force, or his collabs with Afrobeat pioneer Fela Kuti. And that’s more than okay, because the NYC bassist and producer extraordinaire had one of the coolest Rolodexes in the biz in that decade and an ability to conceptualize albums that enabled veteran stars to escape their comfort zones and create fresh work.

Baker was on of a mini creative roll in the ’80s; on top of the excellent Horses And Trees, he played on four tracks on PiL’s Album and cut a rugged, noisy freakout with guitarist Sonny Sharrock and saxophonist Peter Brötzmann on 1987’s No Material, and 1989’s global beatfest Middle Passage. The band Laswell enlisted for Horses And Trees included Bernie Worrell (organ), Naná Vasconcelos (berimbau, cuica, voice, shaker), L. Shankar (violin), Aïyb Dieng (chatan, talking drum, bells), and Nicky Skopelitis (6- and 12-string guitar). You can’t lose with these cats.

On opener “Interlock,” Baker’s drums pack the same massive if somewhat stilted punch that they did on PiL‘s Album. Skopelitis slashes triumphant power chords while Worrell generates thrilling whirs and drones in this oblong, pantheistic funk juggernaut. Foday Musa Suso’s beautiful, wistful dousongonni motif twangs over Baker’s lumbering beats on “Dust To Dust” on a piece that evokes the sundown, melancholy air of Daniel Lanois or Ry Cooder ca. Paris, Texas. The only track here to feature turntablist D.ST. (who famously performed on Herbie Hancock’s “Rockit”), “Satou” is a weird shuffler featuring Vasconcelos scatting on the mic like Urszula Dudziak‘s in restrained scat mode while Sosa’s kalimba and nyanyer (a West African one-stringed fiddle) add tantalizing textures.

“Mountain Time” is a deeply funky percussion orgy boasting the album’s heaviest, most thuggish beats. Here, it’s just Baker wailing on drums, Dieng going to town on talking drum and chatan, and Daniel Ponce tapping the bells. “Makuta”’s a humid, bubbling tune with a strange aura, thanks to Sosa’s kora and nyanyer playing and Vasconcelos’ cuica. The LP peaks on “Uncut,” an uptempo ethno-funk banger that could almost work in a house-music set. Sosa’s dousongonni, Dieng’s talking drum, Ponce’s bata, and L. Shankar’s violin lend exotic timbres. Worrell and Shankar go hard and florid on organ and violin, respectively, elevating the track to an exalted level. Best is “Uncut,” an uptempo ethno-funk banger that could almost work in a house-music set. Sosa’s dousongonni, Dieng’s talking drum, and Ponce’s batá lend exotic timbres while Worrell and Shankar go hard and florid on organ and violin, respectively, elevating the track to an exalted level.

As with most Laswell-produced records, Horses And Trees bears his personality and quirks more than it does Ginger Baker’s. But in this case, that’s a good thing, and Horses And Trees stands as a brilliant anomaly in the master drummer’s catalog. -Buckley Mayfield

Located in Seattle’s Fremont neighborhood, Jive Time is always looking to buy your unwanted records (provided they are in good condition) or offer credit for trade. We also buy record collections.

Dexter Wansel “Life On Mars” (Philadelphia International, 1976)

Respect is due to Dexter Wansel, the Philadelphia musician/producer who passed away on May 31 at age 75, for, among many other feats, his vastly influential debut album, Life On Mars. He’d made his name as an in-demand session keyboardist at Sigma Sound Studios for artists such as the O’Jays, Yellow Sunshine, MFSB, and Billy Paul. Wansel also had played with Stanley Clarke, the Jacksons, and Grover Washington Jr. After signing with Philadelphia International Records as an in-house arranger, producer, and composer, Dexter launched his auspicious solo career, making a huge splash with Life On Mars.

Inspired by David Bowie‘s “Life On Mars?” this record stands as Wansel’s peak. It’s an outward-bound jazz-funk opus that can hold its own with Herbie Hancock and Lenny White‘s contemporaneous releases. “A Prophet Named K.G.” kicks off the record with brash, brassy cop-show jazz-funk that would make Quincy Jones do a double take. Similarly cinematic is “Stargazer,” a sweeping, aerodynamic theme for an imaginary TV sci-fi series that may remind some of the breathless one for The Jetsons cartoon. The title track’s glimmering ambient intro gradually gives way to an elegant strut into galactic funk. Derrick Graves’ probing bass line and the backing corona of vocals by Carla Benson, Barbara Ingram, and Evette Benton elevate this jam to even greater heights. When Wansel goes wild on the ARP 2600, it truly separates the astronauts from the earthbound.

As its title suggests, “You Can Be What You Wanna Be” is a supremely earnest self-esteem-booster in the form of the bubbly jazz-funk bangers found on Hancock’s Thrust and Man-Child. Wansel sings in falsetto, which isn’t optimal, but the fantastic drum and congas break compensates for that. Wansel’s best-known song, “Theme From The Planets,” begins with one of the most sampled drum breaks ever (shout out to drummer Darryl Brown and percussionists Joe Johnson and Charles Collins), with over 300 documented on WhoSampled. Then Wansel’s wickedly sensual and sinuous synth motif intertwines with Bobby Malach’s smoky sax and the song lifts off for distant interstellar realms. Soooo smoooooth. “Rings Of Saturn” is an ideal LP-closer, a swirling, valedictorian space-jazz meditation that sends you to the exit signs with a deep sense of poignancy. A couple of oleaginous R&B ballads kill the momentum, but overall, Life On Mars is a thrilling journey that’s as sophisticated as it is thrilling. -Buckley Mayfield

Located in Seattle’s Fremont neighborhood, Jive Time is always looking to buy your unwanted records (provided they are in good condition) or offer credit for trade. We also buy record collections.

Cher “3614 Jackson Highway” (ATCO, 1969)

[After we reviewed Sonny Bono’s Inner Views in May, it seemed only right and natural to write about a Cher album soon after.]

I love it when an artist’s outlier album is their best. Another case in point: Cher’s sixth LP, 3614 Jackson Highway, recorded at the Alabama studio bearing that address, Muscle Shoals. This is Cher’s Dusty In Memphis, a kind of gritty Southern soul/funk outing that deviated from her usual output. Produced by Jerry Wexler, Arif Mardin, and Tom Dowd, 3614 Jackson Highway was a critical success and consensus Cher favorite among true heads, but the album only peaked at #160 on the Billboard chart. Oh well…

For this career peak, producer Jerry Wexler enlisted the same Muscle Shoals musicians who supported Aretha Franklin, Wilson Pickett, Solomon Burke, and others to provide Cher with a new framework in which to flex her superb singing on an interesting batch of other people’s compositions. Coproducer Arif Mardin’s orchestrations are rich and at times syrupy, but they don’t obscure the crack group, which includes lead guitarist Jimmy Johnson, bassist David Hood, drummer Roger Hawkins, keyboardist Barry Beckett, guitarist Eddie Hinton, and backing vocalist/future Grateful Dead member Donna Godchaux (née Thatcher).

Cher sounds like she’s in her element here. She’s always had a knack for grandstanding on large-hearted/robust-lunged ballads, but she also reveals her skill with subtler material, including three covers of Nashville Skyline tracks, which had only come out two months earlier in ’69. Younger fans of Cher’s later glossy pop records might be shocked to learn about the intensity of her Bob Dylan love, which spanned over several records. Changing the title to “Lay Baby Lay,” Cher showed her outsized adoration for this lewd, louche Dylan ditty, and as a huge fan of “Lay Lady Lay,” I can only approve of her faithful cover. A spare and funky “Tonight I’ll Be Staying Here With You” and a sweet, gospel-tinged “I Threw It All Away” also appear.

3614 Jackson Street brilliantly kicks off with a great rendering of the Buffalo Springfield all-timer, “For What It’s Worth.” The song’s animated by slide guitar accents, ghostly backing “ooh”s, and drums that slap hard, even if they aren’t as funky as those on Sérgio Mendes‘ version, but it’s the jaw harp twangs that lift this into rarefied territory. In a bold move, Wexler instructed Cher take a crack at Otis Redding and Steve Cropper’s Stax classic “(Sittin’ On) The Dock Of The Bay.” Sure, the OG is unsurpassable, but Ms. Sarkisian’s is a really nice, smooth, and soulful take. Even her voice breaking on it sounds right. Plus, these Southern boys have a natural feel for the material. That same brashness applies to “I Walk On Guilded Splinters.” It must have felt daunting to tackle Dr. John’s sinister swamp-funk totem; nobody will ever top the diabolical original, but Cher and company acquit themselves with panache. And Box Tops fans will be interested to hear Cher’s slowed-down and jazzed-up version of “Cry Like A Baby.”

3614 Jackson Street remains a cheap-heat staple in the used vinyl bins. If you can only own one Cher album, this is it. -Buckley Mayfield

Located in Seattle’s Fremont neighborhood, Jive Time is always looking to buy your unwanted records (provided they are in good condition) or offer credit for trade. We also buy record collections.

The Politicians “The Politicians Featuring McKinley Jackson” (Hot Wax, 1972)

Based in Detroit, the Politicians’ members were the equivalent to Motown’s Funk Brothers, but for the Hot Wax and Invictus labels. Though the Politicians recorded only one album, it contained enough heat for three. Led by trombonist/composer/producer/arranger McKinley Jackson, the group included Melvin Griff (piano, saxophone), “Peanut” Roderick Chandler (bass, saxophone), Z. Slater (drums, percussion), and “Clay” Clarence Robinson (organ, trumpet). As a DJ, I’ve found The Politicians Featuring McKinley Jackson to be a treasure trove of brash and soulful funk. On the evidence of this sole release, Jackson deserves to be much better known.

The album kicks off with “Psycha-Soula-Funkadelic” which Jackson and Griffin wrote with the great Ruth Copeland (reviewed here earlier this month); it’s a peak-time scorcher that encompasses the styles in its title. “The World We Live In” is a stealthy psychedelic funk bomb that sashays at the “It’s Your Thing” tempo. A crazy, modulated whistling sound coursing through the whole song sounds like a Theremin (or Minnie Riperton) in the throes of ecstasy; it really sets this tune apart from nearly everything in the funk canon. The coolness keeps on coming with “Church,” whose nonchalant funk with clavinet and what sounds like a celesta has serious uplifting potential.

Our old buddies Holland-Dozier-Holland—long free from Motown’s strictures—make their greatness felt on “Free Your Mind,” which isn’t as heavy as Funkadelic nor as tight as the Meters, but it vibrates in a nice, laid-back vein that’s ideal for low-key summer hangs. A hit for fellow Detroit soul unit 100 Proof Aged In Soul, “Everything Good Is Bad” boasts a fantastically moving melody with unison soulful male/female vocals. Flute, strings, and Southern-friend guitar calligraphy also elevate this song, of which I never tire.

Things slow down and get a bit mushy on side 2, but it does have the LP’s peak, “Funky Toes.” Featuring one of the most distinctive clavinet riffs I’ve ever heard (and I’ve heard a lot), this cut is as filthy as anything that Funkadelic or Kool And The Gang were laying down in 1972. No wonder DJ Spooky sampled it for his ill trip-hop classic, “Galactic Funk.” “Close Your Big Mouth,” a Jackson-Slater cowrite, is the sort of poised, celebratory jam that’s a perfect send-off for this party platter.

UK label Demon reissued The Politicians Featuring McKinley Jackson on vinyl in 2019; the Japanese label Solid re-released it in 2018. It’s not an easy pull, but it’s well worth putting in the effort to score one. -Buckley Mayfield

Located in Seattle’s Fremont neighborhood, Jive Time is always looking to buy your unwanted records (provided they are in good condition) or offer credit for trade. We also buy record collections.

Niagara “Niagara” (United Artists, 1970)

Led by the prolific German drummer/library-music composer Klaus Weiss, Niagara were a showcase for him and his fellow drummer/percussionist mates to go beat crazy in the studio. On their debut LP, Niagara erected two sidelong jams that undulate and mutate with spontaneous-seeming invention, but knowing Weiss, they were likely precisely composed. This record may change haters’ bias against drum solos, as there are many phenomenal ones transpiring throughout Niagara‘s 40 minutes.

“Sangandongo” is a 19-minute percussion seminar presented by some of the most fluent players in the world. An international cast of musicians accompanied Weiss: England’s Keith Forsey (drums, cymbals, percussion; Amon Düül II, Klaus Doldinger‘s Motherhood, Giorgio Moroder’s Munich Machine), America’s Cotch Blackmon (conga, percussion), Venezuela’s Juan Romero (cowbell, maracas), and Germany’s Udo Lindenberg (drums, timbales, percussion; Klaus Doldinger’s Motherhood). There’s enough time on “Sangandongo” for Niagara to lean on repetition and variation and phasing to drive home the track’s many pleasures. Think the Incredible Bongo Band, but blown out to epic proportions. At 8:30, things get unbelievably funky; it’s amazing what tambourines and cowbell in the right hands can do to enhance a track. “Sangandongo” is a mind-boggling odyssey of delectable rhythms, unusual timbres, and shifting dynamics—telepathic genius on the level of Can.

The nearly 21-minute “Malanga” starts in a more understated manner than “Sangandongo,” with much intense cymbal work building tension. But gradually the snares begin to punch harder, the rhythms become more emphatic, the bass-drum booms magnify. Later, manic cowbell, panning cymbals, and weirdly FXed congas create a disorienting soundfloor. As it progresses, “Malanga” morphs into a stunning force of nature, a stormy weather system to which you can dance… albeit oddly.

Everland reissued Niagara in 2022, and that same year they collected all three Niagara albums in a lavish boxed set. S.U.B. (1972) is essentially the funkiest library-music album you’ve never heard, just absurdly danceable and soul-jazzy stuff to trigger ultimate hedonism in those receptive to it. You can tell simply by their drum tones that these dudes knew how to party. Afire (1973) is another massive, drum orgy with a surfeit of lubricious percussion. Nobel Prize for the eminence at Everland who made that decision. -Buckley Mayfield

Located in Seattle’s Fremont neighborhood, Jive Time is always looking to buy your unwanted records (provided they are in good condition) or offer credit for trade. We also buy record collections.