Charles Wright and the Watts 103rd St. Rhythm Band “Express Yourself” (1970)

Somewhere between the Funk formalism of James Brown and free-spiritedness of Sly Stone can be found Charles Wright. In a perfect world, this enormous talent would be mentioned in the same breath as Redding, Gaye, and Green, but Wright's long-term success was hobbled by the line-up changes of his various backing bands, inconsistent records, and other music biz unpleasantries. Though he recorded lots of great music–even his weakest efforts are at least worth hearing–this record is his shining moment. Its title track is its most famous (and most sampled), but other tracks like I Got Love and the free-form funk freakout, High as Apple Pie parts 1 & 2, give it a Gospel-like sense of joy. Few reissued records have caused as much confusion as this one. The original release kicked off with a tight little number called A Road Without End. Future pressings, however, replaced that track with Love Land, which appeared on his previous LP, In the Jungle Babe. Love Land is a great song in its own right, but it doesn't suit the feel of Express Yourself as well as the track it replaces. For this reason, an original pressing of the record is well-worth tracking down. –Richard P

The Isley Brothers “3 + 3” (1973)

“3 + 3” is a celebratory achievement on a number of levels. The radical shift for many soul acts that were popular in the 60s was to relinquish the sweetly string drenched sounds for a stripped down, harder, rock influenced edge. This 1973 recording is a perfect example of how a band can successfully augment a new style and yet maintain the sumptuous tunes and tight grooves. The full time introduction of younger brothers Ernie (guitar) and Marvin (bass) Isley and cousin Chris Jasper (keyboards) to the fold adds a fresh dynamic and a realisation that the older siblings could count on a level of instrumental originality to compliment their obvious vocal skills. Ernie Isley’s dominating licks bear an uncanny resemblance to the skilled grandeur of Santana, even Hendrix. Chris Jasper’s keyboard embellishments disprove the thought that Stevie Wonder was the only black artist who was experimenting with new sonic textures.

The first revelation is the re-recording of “That Lady”, a song that had been in the Isley Brothers back catalogue for 10 years. The extended jam and Ernie Isley’s ecstatic lead gives the song a remarkable resonance that brilliantly invents new silks from old threads. Their version of Seals And Croft’s tepid “Summer Breeze” adds the beautiful vocal harmonies that came so naturally to the brothers, and for this reviewer is THE definitive interpretation of the song. The heartfelt “Don’t Let Me Be Lonely Tonight” harks to their former glories without a hint of cliché. “If You Were There” is simple joyful pop, and their version of The Doobie Brothers “Listen To The Music” bravely pumps up the funk for a new take on a tried and trusted tune. It’s all here, in triplicate, and without doubt constitutes one of the most entertaining soul albums of the 70s. “3 + 3” is The Isley Brothers watershed moment. –Ben H

Parliament “Funkentelechy vs. the Placebo Syndrome” (1977)

George Clinton was unstoppable. The previous album The Clones Of Dr. Funkenstein was good, but this LP is unbelievable. Bob Gun opens the album with danceable Funk. Then, Sir Nose d'Voidoffunk: aside from being ultra-funky and the "lyrics" mad beyond control, the music here may be the most advanced and far-reaching of all Parliament tracks. Just listen to Bernie Worrell's synth wizardry and his abstract comments on the acoustic piano, Clinton's Sir Nose travesty, the girls' background vocals, the brass arrangement, the fat bass - at a running time of more than ten minutes, this song is a miracle! Other highlights: Funkentelechy (also over ten minutes long) and the hit, Flash Light . –Yofriend

Bill Withers “Just As I Am” (1971)

What a cool debut album! At first glance (including the cover), “Just as I Am” seems so low-key, almost unspectacular, but once you get used to these songs, and when you consider this is almost forty years ago, you come to realize just how much sophistication this guy Bill Withers had back then when he decided to record his first album. And in spite of a respectable cover version of Let It Be, Bill Withers outs himself as a respectable songwriter. His music is as related to the Blues and the Soul tradition as it is to the Folk tradition of, say, a James Taylor.
One of Bill Withers’ best records and still a great record. –Yofriend

Chuck Jackson “Goin’ Back to Chuck Jackson” (1969)

Chuck Jackson must have been a really weird fit for Motown. Kind of like the Yankees acquiring Michael Schumacher; top brand aquires top talent, despite the obvious apples/oranges implications. His tenure at Wand was mainly filled with well-done Iceman ballad stylings with the odd Northern track (“Chains of Love”) thrown in for giggles. But just like the Iceman himself making a pair of brilliant albums in Philly, this album works extremely well. I would have to imagine that Chuck did something wrong in his interview with Berry Gordy. Maybe he didn't seem too thrilled at the prospect of putting two white teenagers kissing on a beach on the album cover. Maybe he went on and on about how much he liked the new Isley Brothers single on T-Neck and how they're doing so well now. In any event, Berry did not stack this album with songwriting talent. Two Smokey songs, one H-D-H, one Ashford/Simpson, one Stevie Wonder, and then some other guys. No producer's credit either. Needless to say this does not sound like a 1969 Motown album.

The album starts off well enough with a Bert Berns song but then sidesteps into a big heaping pile of Jimmy Webb. There are a lot of Jimmy Webb fans out there; I am unequivocally not one of them. I like bits of the first Fifth Dimension album. Other than that, I think his songs are firmly in the schmaltzy pathos category and one of the worst things to happen to soul music (other than Bobby Womack) was the endless assembly line of "Witchita Lineman" covers. (Oh, you're a lineman for the county? Shut up already and fix the power lines then.) Things pick up with a solid version of "Cry Like a Baby". Side 2 is the real stormer, however. An interesting cover of Tyrone Davis' "Can I Change My Mind" is great, even if the trademark jangly guitar is slightly buried. "I'd Still Love You" follows and, whoa, fuzz guitar! Ominous spoken intro leads into the best production on the album. Again, I would love to know who produced this cut, as it's definitely not Norman Whitfield territory but it's close. "The Day My World Stood Still" is a wonderful little sleeper that opens up into a dramatically darker bridge featuring swirling strings and woodblocks with an ersatz flamenco feel and a Chuck Jackson vocal that is certainly up for the challenge. It's the kind of staggeringly effective minor key bridge that was more common to UK psych (just replace the ersatz flamenco with ersatz Middle Eastern). A baffling little excursion that I can't get enough of.

Motown may not have given a lot of effort and attention to Chuck Jackson, but you should. Plus he looks pretty suave in that turtleneck. He certainly looks better than I do in them. –Mike

Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band “Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band” (1976)

This self-titled debut (!!!) album is one of my all-time favorite records. I've played it thousands of times and know it by heart. Too jazzy for Disco fans, too "trivial" for Jazz fans, too remote from "roots" for the Soul/Funk division, this album was and is a dream-come-true for all those who don't wear blinkers when it comes to music. All seven songs are jewels, and together, they're a string of pearls. No matter from which angle - the compositions, the arrangements, the singing, the performance - always five stars. I can't think of or play this album without fits of rapture. –Yofriend

Shuggie Otis “Inspiration Information” (1974)

Those who only give this album a cursory listen and then pass it off as a product of adult-contemporary‘70s listening will sadly miss the point. This is the ultimate soul-chill album. Shuggie is extremely versatile and this album exploits that ability. He might take you through a blaxploitation-era-sounding L.A. street walk as in the opener and "Strawberry 23", a dub-influenced Hammond organ tune in "Aht uh Mi Head". "Happy House" almost sounds like a millennial drum and bass piece. "Sweet Thang" might be one of the best soul jams on a blues number I’ve ever heard (here he’s successfully aped Duane Allman on guitar). He tries for some experimental stuff on his beat machine, some of it clearly dated, the songs that shine being when he allows his guitar to create the atmosphere. Shuggie’s excellence is extremely subtle due in part to his highly laxed and soft vocal style and his tendency towards quiet groove. But this IS a 2am come down lazy groove album in the best sense. Don’t give up on the album in the middle instrumental section which drops off, as the album’s second half picks up starting with "Strawberry 23". The high point of the album is the groove he kicks on the second half of "Island Letter". All this, and the fact that Otis was practically a toddler when he made Inspiration Information, set the tone for what is certainly one of the most underappreciated albums and artists of all time. –B

Mandrill “Solid” (1975)

There aren't a whole lot of bands like Mandrill! Even in the days of War and Santana when a psychedelic stew was bubbling and latin styles were merging, this band was a standout due to the heavy rootedness of their music. Throughout this album the band serve up a set of tunes that blend rather foreboding, dark funk with surreal strings, harmonies and wah-wahs such as on the compelling "Wind On Horseback," "Yucca Jump" and the title song. They rock hard in a funky place on "Tee Vee", a song whose message and almost proto hip-hop groove predates the Disposable Heroes Of Hisprocrisy's "Television" by about fifteen years. There are also some hardcore grooves such as "Peck Ya Neck" and "Stop & Go." The final song "Slick" is pretty much an instrumental that takes on some very dynamic influences: from the cinematic soul popular with Isaac Hayes to a sort of afro cuban jazz sound. Mandrill and Solid are potent reminder of the cross cultural pollination, from jazz to soul to pop, that the golden age of funk represented.  –Andre

Gil Scott-Heron “Pieces of a Man” (1971)

The song "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised" is the earliest incidence of rap that I've heard so far. What's more, it features the flute playing of Hubert Laws. That's right, flute in a rap song. The next thing that really struck me was the bass. None other than Ron Carter makes the switch to electric bass, reminding me of Jaco Pastorius a little bit. Those three musicians form a deadly trio. Hubert Laws only plays on three songs, I think. That's not much of an issue though because he wouldn't have really fit in many of the other songs. The style of the music varies from fusion on the first half to soul and jazz on the rest of the record. What takes the album from being good to being great is the fact that everyone can identify with the lyrics about the plight of African Americans and subjects like depression. "Lady Day and John Coltrane" feels more like a statement about the power of music in general to enhance you life, with John Coltrane and Billie Holiday used as examples. Scott-Heron has made it known on his records that he's a huge fan of Coltrane. Kind of makes a person wonder what kind of crazy supergroup would have been inevitable had a few people not died prematurely. Let's say Coltrane lived on. Heron might have used Ron Carter to recruit Coltrane into this band. Pretty much wherever Coltrane went, Elvin Jones followed, so they wouldn't have had to look far for a drummer. So far we've got flute, vocal, drums, sax and bass. What about guitar? The only right person for the job would have Jimi Hendrix, yet another victim of too much celebrity. Maybe throw John's talented wife Alice in on piano and harp. Voila! Potentially one of the best supergroups that will never be. It's sad, really. What I like better about this album versus Free Will is the presence of Ron Carter and that the lyrics are still political but don't go so far as to border on being anti-white. It's one thing to stick up for your people but it's other to sound like you're verbally attacking another group in the process. Let's not fight hate with hate. Pieces of a Man was released the same year as What's Going On by Marvin Gaye, has just as much political and social commentary, might be better, and yet gets a meager amount of recognition in comparison. Yup, that's about how much sense I've come to expect from the music world. –Rob

Curtis Mayfield “Curtis” (1970)

Curtis’s call to unity and peace is that we are all going to hell for being assholes; I absolutely love that. Here everyone is telling everyone to form a love train and hold hands and Curtis is saying that if things don’t work out now maybe we’ll get things right in hell. The music is just as revolutionary, an embrace of what was going down on the East side of the United States in the 60s and the music that has been going on in the western hemisphere since the 16th century. Dirty funk with prog-rock ascension (“(Don’t Worry) If There’s a Hell We’re All Going to Go”) and a Motown hit with a 5-minute jam (“Move On Up”), Curtis knows no limits and it’s all for the better; even simple soul like “Miss Black America” and “Wild and Free” feel like transcendent miracles of celebration with lyrical potency.

There’s The Last Poets who were looking at all the failures going on and then there was Isaac Hayes looking at a bright future, but both were either too cynical or scarred to look at each other. This is Curtis standing up aware of the shortcomings of black society in the late 60s (“Don’t accept anything less than 2nd best” he sings in triumphant glory) and looking up at the bright days behind the gloomiest haze of despair in the album’s centerpiece “We the People Who are Darker than Blue”. Curtis knows there is no point in pondering what could have been of Africa had it not been ravaged and he knows there is no use in lying about black people coming on top. There is no black and white, there is only poor or rich and lucky or unfortunate. You can only embrace those small moments when things are looking up in your life and you make a connection to the history that binds you to that moment. This is what Curtis accomplishes for forty minutes and it’s a beautiful thing. –Allistair

Stevie Wonder “Innervisions” (1973)

There is absolutely nothing like it. I could spend the entire review spouting off fawning superlatives, but suffice to say this is my favorite album of the 70's, and my favorite non-jazz album of all time. From the opening chords, Stevie envelops you in a new type of funk; dark, complex and intense. "Too High", "Higher Ground" and especially "Jesus Children of America" exemplify this sound, and they are what immediately grab you about the album. There is also gorgeous, emotional soul ("Golden Lady", "All in Love is Fair") and one track that lies in between ("Living for the City"). "Visions" is perhaps the most startling song, however. It isn't really soul at all, and it's definitely not funk. It's a haunting and heart-felt meditation on the blindness of hatred that metiphorically contrasts it with Stevie's own sightlessness. Just writing about this album gives me goosebumps, and if you've never heard it, you need to get on that, right now. –Lucas

Earth, Wind & Fire “Earth, Wind & Fire” (1971)

I couldn't believe my ears when I heard this debut because it couldn't be further from the glossy disco I was used to associating with the group. Instead it is a bare bones, no nonsense funky affair not unlike early Tower of Power or Sly and the Family Stone. There are also nods to rock in the tough drumming, and jazz fusion on the weirdly titled closer "Bad Tune". The peace and love lyrics get kind of grating, as does the "banter" in between songs, but these are small grievances on an otherwise still fresh sounding album. –Neal

Al Green “Call Me” (1973)

Sometimes, less is more. Sometimes, a skeletal backbeat, some whisper-thin organ and a barely audible moan can trump a mighty wail over lush, swelling orchestration. If you were to put any of the tracks off of Call Me on a soul compilation next to Aretha Franklin or, say, Wilson Pickett, they're going to sound out of place. Compared to most soul or R&B artists, there is no muscle, not in the music or the vocals. It isn't that Al Green doesn't have a voice to shatter mountains (he does), it's just that he chooses not to deploy it here. And while you might be able to resist his spell for 3 1/2 minutes at a time, the effect of all of these tracks taken together is delirious and intoxicating. Instead of coming to you, Al never raises his voice. He makes you lean close, really pay attention. He teases and seduces and withholds gratification until even the slightest breath is devastating. "Have You Been Making Out O.K." is aimed at an ex-lover, and designed to buckle her knees by the end of the first verse. The two country standards lose none of the heartache of the originals, but are completely re-conceptualized in a soul setting so that they're sexy and barely recognizable. Even "Jesus Is Waiting" is a sultry come-on to examine your faith. Bottom line, this is a classic. You need this album. –Lucas

Minnie Riperton “Come to My Garden” (1970)

Producer Charles Stepney’s work here is on a level of Burt Bachrach’s best with a beautiful hint of darkness, perhaps too much, but there is always Minnie to bring a smile to the tears. One of the few gifted human beings to be blessed with a whistle register, each track has Minnie pulling off the most unimaginably beautiful melodies with the most breathtaking nuances. This album is full of odd vocal melodies that DJ Shadow dreams of (perhaps he thinks too highly of the album to tear it apart); just the intro to “Completeness” is enough to sell this record as Minnie creates an operatic current that bounces across a canyon as upright bass, horns, and strings rise and fall far away. Every song has so many little touches that you’ve never heard before, simply because not the average person can pull these off. Even if Mirah Carey has the vocal abilities, she could never have so much honesty and strength behind the chops. This is why people like this are put onto Earth, not to be on American Idol covering Barry Manilow for every fucking week. –Allistair

Williams And Watson “Two For The Price Of One” (1967)

In the sixties there were thousands of soul sides produced, however, the market was singles driven, so finding a period soul album playable start to finish is tough. I know you might reckon, "What about Motown?"! If you own enough sixties era Motown albums you know exactly what I mean. Being the biggest soul label during the sixties they were VERY guilty of using "filler" tracks to pad the albums, often reusing backing tracks or having their artists sing standards. Well, fortunately, the genius of Mr. Larry Williams and Johnny 'Guitar' Watson defies the cliche'! Two For The Price Of One is a wide open, pedal to the metal...SOUL album...it's exactly what you'd expect from this infamous pair...nothing but DANCERS! In fact, TftPoO is so danceable half the albums tracks are Northern Soul classics (biggest being "Too Late" and A "Quitter Never Wins"). This is what an album of soul oughta be...you ain't heard NOTHING till you've heard this! –Nipper

Chic “Risque” (1979)

Niles Rodgers said that he formed Chic as a kind of black disco version of Roxy Music. And, in turn, the slick syncopated grooves with those art-deco grand piano splashes wound up influencing everything from early rap (the riff from "Rapper's Delight" is taken straight from "Good Times") to Madonna. Perhaps it's their use of minor keys but Chic's tunes all have this melancholy air about them - a bittersweet portrait of the swinging, hedonistic 70s and all that followed in its wake. It's beautiful music -- none more than the sensual "Warm Summer Night" with its circular structure punctuated by "Papi!" -- from a gritty decade. –Singer Saints

Parliament “Osmium” (1970)

A trashy, kitschy, collage-like soul album in which Clinton begins to lay the ground of the P-funk sound. Those expecting the heavy psyched-out guitar rock of early Funkadelic will find this a little “poppy.” Those expecting the streamlined dancefloor grooves of Parliament will find this a little “rocky.” But this is no middle-ground record: they gospelize Pachelbel, dick around with country twang, and feature some bagpipes and harps in an ethereal soul workout about getting to the other side. It’s unlike anything else you've ever heard, though doubtless you've heard just about all of it: in the sampling of some rappist or another. –Will

Nina Simone “Emergency Ward” (1973)

I was a bit reluctant with this at first, mainly because this album is like 80% George Harrison, but GH was the true talent of the Beatles, so I guess if you're gonna cover songs of one of the fab four, his make the most sense. God forbid she chose Ringo.... Somehow, I feel a 20 minute version of "Octopus's Garden" wouldn't hold the same potency as the belting gospel driven take on "My Sweet Lord". For me though, it's her take on "Isn't It a Pity" that does it for me. This song is Nina Simone at the absolute height of her soul powers. Beautiful subtle vamping, super subtle bass for the melody to glide along, and her sublime warm and heartfelt, half spoken, half sung vocals. You really won't find many tunes that melt the heart like her take on this one. –Ben

The Baby Huey Story “The Living Legend” (1971)

The posthumously released “The Living Legend” is solid, melodic, slightly psychedelic, catchy funk from top to bottom. In fact, it rocks surprisingly hard, with more than a little Sly Stone influence. Curtis Mayfield gets the production credit here, and this has got to be the most rocking thing he was ever involved in. Now, Baby Huey is no great singer, but he is “400 pounds of soul.” What he lacks in technical ability, he more than makes up for in delivery and personality. His sermon during “A Change is Going to Come” doesn’t make a hell of a lot of sense, but it sure sounds good. Ditto for his ramblings on Mayfield’s “Mighty Mighty,” which didn’t fair too well on the singles charts, but may be one of the most chaotic, fun sounding recordings ever released as such - sorta like the Beach Boys “Barbara Ann” on acid. It, along with the rest of the album, really give you the sense that these guys must have been a ton of fun (literally) in concert. The standout tracks are most likely “Hard Times,” with its instantly recognizable, oft-sampled intro; and “Running,” which could be the most exciting, hardest rocking track on the whole album. –DL

Funkadelic “Let’s Take it to the Stage” (1975)

Let's Take it to the Stage is easily a top-3 Funkadelic album, maybe even the best. It opens with the rocking one-two punch of "Good to Your Earhole" and "Better by the Pound". I've always considered Funkadelic a rock band that is extremely funky, not vice versa, and these two tracks add credence to that way of thinking. Next is "Be My Beach" which is one of the most unique, trippy songs they have ever made. Bootsy's vocals are fantastic. Fourth is Clinton's updated take on Sly and the Family Stone's "Jane is a Groupie". "No Head, No Backstage Pass" is hilarious, sleazy, biting and to the point. It's also on the verge of heavy metal, a concept that was being invented by Black Sabbath. Next is the title track which is the biggest "hit" off of the album. Memorable for the funk mob's playful skewering of their contemporaries, this statement of dominance doesn't hold up as well, to me, as the wonderfully crafted tunes that surround it. One track that holds up exceedingly well, however, is "Get Off You're Ass and Jam". Fueled by Michael Hampton's frenzied guitar solos, this live staple practically assaults you when you listen to it. Hampton (along with his predecessor and inspiration, Eddie Hazel) still ranks among rock's greatest guitarists, and his performance on this album is one of the reasons why.

While Let's Take it to the Stage doesn't get the recognition of Maggot Brain or One Nation Under a Groove, it is every bit as essential. Clinton and company were at a song-writing apex, giving us several 2-5 minute blasts of brilliance. The assertion that Funkadelic is the "black Beatles" is not far off base. Strip away the psychedelia, the dark humor, the monstrous bass of Bootsy and the general Funkadelic craziness, and you've got a perfectly crafted pop album. Of course, strip all of that away, and you don't have Funkadelic. –Lucas