BETTY DAVIS - THE COLUMBIA YEARS 1968-1969 (2016)

In Miles Davis’s autobiography, Miles, he calls ex-wife, Betty (Davis nee Mabry) ‘a talented motherfucker’; it’s the highest form of accolade given by a man not known to freely dish out the superlatives.

In May 1969, approximately halfway through their year-long marriage, with a band assembled by Miles featuring Mitch Mitchell, Harvey Brooks, Billy Cox, Herbie Hancock, Wayne Shorter, Larry Young and John McLaughlin, Betty Davis recorded a session for Columbia Records in New York with producer Teo Macero. Unheard since, not even known to bootleggers, The Columbia Years finally reveals not only the roots of Betty’s raunchy funk - she’d wait another four years to unleash the first of her four super-funky albums – but also Miles tentatively exploring the jazz-fusion groove that he’d begun with In a Silent Way and would soon manifest in Bitches Brew.

A couple of points to note. Most importantly, this was not, as it could appear, a husband using his influence and clout with his record company to cut a deal for a wife of limited abilities. Betty had already cut a few singles and seen her songs used by others. She had (motherfucking) talent, looks, attitude, knew her own mind and was also the one who, still in her early 20s, hipped Miles (by then, virtually ancient, in his 40s) to the psychedelic rock stew of Jimi Hendrix, Sly Stone and James Brown’s latest bag and kitted him out in the latest with-it clobber. The second point is if you consider Bitches Brew an instrument of torture, don’t let that put you off here as the results are far more accessible.

Why Columbia passed on the result is a mystery on this evidence. The playing – jazzy R&B with a funk twist – cooks and Betty’s vocals are sassy as hell yet less abrasive than they’d become. Cream and Creedence Clearwater Revival are covered by ‘Politician Man’ and ‘Born of the Bayou’ respectively but mostly Betty brings her originals to an exuberant party and the snatches of conversation between Betty and Miles demonstrate they both brought ideas into a shared creative process. These were only demos, and only enough for one side of an album, but it’s abundantly clear how much fun everyone had in the studio. Miles at one point asking, “What’s Jimi Hendrix drummer’s name? The one they call Mitch…” before falling into a fit of wheezing cackling laughter.

Three 1968 Hugh Masekela backed numbers, including a footstomping ‘My Soul Is Tired’, round things off in a more traditional full 60s soul style. As always with Light In The Attic releases it’s well packaged with interviews and commentary in the accompanying booklet. Stripped of historical interest this is an engaging half hour; with it, utterly compelling.

The Columbia Years is released by Light In The Attic Records on LP and CD.

An edited version of his review appears in the current issue of Shindig! magazine.

HERE IS BARBARA LYNN (1968)

After hitting big with the smoky "You'll Lose A Good Thing" in 1962 and having the Stones famously cover her "Oh Baby (We Got A Good Thing Going") in 1964, Texan singer, songwriter and guitarist Barbara Lynn signed to Atlantic Records where they announced her arrival with the album Here Is Barbara Lynn.

Now lavishly reissued for the first time courtesy of Light In The Attic Records, it's been fully remastered from the original tapes, pressed on 180 gram vinyl, housed in a sturdy gatefold sleeve and includes a colour insert with photographs and an interview with Barbara. More importantly than all that, it's a superb album of classy, understated soul music. It's topped and tailed with two of her most well known songs - "You'll Lose A Good Thing" and "This Is The Thanks I Get" - with everything in between of comparable quality.

There's no need for raving or over-singing, just sit firmly on the groove and simmer until cooked to perfection. "Take Your Love And Run" and "Mix It Up Baby" knock the tempo up a touch but it's the ballads and mid-tempo numbers which excel with Barbara's self-penned "(Until Then) I'll Suffer" a real stop-you-in-your-tracks moment. 

The release of Here Is Barbara Lynn coincided with Aretha Franklin's most successful period at Atlantic (Lady Soul and Aretha Now both charted in the top 3 in '68) so it's doubtful this record or Barbara got the attention they deserved. The fact "(Until Then) I'll Suffer" didn't make it to a single until '71 rather underlines this, but this reissue goes some way to deservedly bringing Barbara Lynn - still out there playing live - back into view. 

Here Is Barbara Lynn is released by Light In The Attic Records.

DYLAN'S GOSPEL by THE BROTHERS AND SISTERS (1969)

As per most months, I was handing over a sizable chunk of my hard-earned to the Sounds Of The Universe record emporium in Soho the other day, when I became aware of a belting gospel song being played in the shop.  “There are many here among us, who feel life is but a joke”, I found myself singing along to a familiar song. This is cool, I thought, but couldn’t immediately place it. “What is this, pray tell, dear storekeeper?”  I enquired. Swiftly into my eager outstretched hand was placed a new heavyweight vinyl reissue of Dylan’s Gospel by The Brothers and Sisters. Oh yeah, of course, “All Along The Watchtower”. Originally released, I was told, in 1969 on Ode Records and produced by Lou Adler; all ten tracks are gospel versions of Bob Dylan songs. “Please place this on my pile forthwith”. And so he did.

For Bobcats with a penchant for big voices in little churches this truly is heaven sent. Adler collected together all the best backing singers in LA and recorded them in a specially set-up studio. He did a remarkably job as the production is fantastic; with a small rhythm section of bass, drums, organ and piano these sound pure backwater church not Hollywood studio at all. A quick squizz down the list of brothers and sisters in this choir reveals some familiar names: Merry Clayton, Clydie King, Gloria Jones, Patrice Holloway, Billy Storm and many more.

Nobody Sings Dylan Like Dylan, they say, and it’s true but I bet he was knocked out when he heard the treatment his songs were given here. I can’t pick favourites here, it’s all magnificent beatific Bobness.

Dylan’s Gospel by The Brothers And Sisters is out now on Light In The Attic Records. Here's a short film about the album.  

COUNTRY FUNK 1969-1975 (2012)

Have we had Country Funk as a genre before or is it the latest creation to shift neglected back catalogue by marrying two together? I think we've had it previously (even a band called it) but thankfully we haven't now gone down the route of joining parts of the words together to make Counk or Funktry. (Hmm, I quite like the sound of Funktry). It’s the job of record companies to make their product marketable so credit to the ever-reliable Light In The Attic Records in pulling together a solid compilation that unearths some surprises and is worth the money.

The artists come from range of backgrounds yet hit a similar low-down groove, not ever considering what it would be called and often different to the style they’re best associated with. This isn’t James Brown funk, and it’s not pedal-steel country either, more a funky kinda attitude, but more suede than sequins. Dale Hawkins’s opener, “L.A, Memphis, Tyler Texas” is a perfect example of meshing styles together: stabbing soul stew horns and southern style vocals. Bobby Darin’s lazy sounding drawl on the shuffling “Light Blue” is light years from “Mac The Knife” and is driven by a fat bass line reminiscent of Aaron Neville’s “Hercules” or something from Superfly. Link Wray’s incredible gospel shouter “Fire and Brimstone” sounds nothing like the guitar rumble than made his name and as I’ve said before I can’t hear it without imaging Bobby Gillespie flapping his outstretched arms in ecstasy. 

The drumming on Tony Joe White’s “Studspider” is breakbeat material with Tony even a one point coming close to turning into a human beat box. “Piledriver” by Dennis The Fox is taken from the same stream with Dennis coming on like a baggy Lee Hazlewood. Johnny Jenkins “I Walk On Gilded Splinters” is familiar but “Hawg Frog” by Gray Fox takes the gumbo further. 

Out of sixteen tracks there isn’t one that needs skipping. Not all are essential but they make for repeated listening and if there’s a volume two I’m riding in quicker than a horse in a star-spangled rodeo.

Country Funk 1969-1975 is released by Light In The Attic Records.