The middle of the week is here, so what better time for a couple of very tasty bits of Northern Soul (with a very interesting backstory)?
As someone who experienced the 80s firsthand, I have to admit that I don’t find nostalgia aimed in that direction all that entertaining, especially since so many of the nostalgic aren’t old enough to have weathered it the first time.
You see, alongside MTV, crazy haircuts and quirky new wave music, there was of course the reality of the Reagan era, during which the American right kicked open the door and let in the wide variety of religious and political pests that 30 years down the line have completely infested this country.
So, you’ll understand if I’m not in my garage slapping together a time machine so that I can take the ride all over again.
This is not to say that the music was all bad, since a lot of it was very good. The best of new wave was in essence high quality reworking of the 60s pop palette.
One of the biggest new wave hits, that has become a major musical symbol of the era, is Soft Cell’s 1981 hit ‘Tainted Love’.
I’ll even cop to digging it the first time around, years before I had any idea that it was a synthesized reworking of a Northern Soul anthem.
In fact, a few years on, during the whole mod/garage explosion of the mid-80s, when I was initially clued in to the fact that the song had originally been recorded by a singer named Gloria Jones, I was still a decade away from even the tiniest inkling about the existence of the Northern Soul movement.
As a result, I didn’t consider Soft Cell’s covering of ‘Tainted Love’ to have any more subtext that Phil Collins’ execrable mangling of the Supremes’ ‘You Can’t Hurry Love’.
Flash forward twenty-five odd years and yours truly is neck deep in the sounds of the Northern movement, with all manner of storming Wigan faves spilling out of my record boxes. I’m rambling around YouTube looking for videos of Northern Soul dancers (and of you haven’t seen them, you simply must on account of it’s a wild bag that they were/are in) and I happen upon a short documentary that featured lots of the acrobatic terpsichorian delights.
About six minutes into the video a song came on the soundtrack that knocked me on my ass with its propulsive tempo and pop hooks. A little bit of the Googling, and I discover that the record in question was called ‘What’ by a singer named Judy Street.
A little more exploration on the interwebs and I found myself a copy of same, since I wanted to give it a good home and hear it blasting over some of those big club speakers we all love so much.
Once I had my hands on the 45 (a 1977 era reissue, but more on that in a minute) I started digging into my reference books, and back on the web and I discovered something very interesting about ‘What’, that were I a bigger Soft Cell fan, or a resident of the UK, I might have already been aware of, that being that the group had their second UK hit with this very song, which, not at all coincidentally was also a huge Northern Soul anthem.
‘Hmmmmm…’ says I, realizing that I was going to have to dig a little bit further.
Two hits in a row by one of the great synth-pop acts of the 80s, both yanked from the Northern Soul canon was indeed a curious thing.
As it turns out, aside from the odd juxtaposition of styles, it wasn’t that curious at all.
But first, a little musical history. Gloria Jones was still a teenager when she was discovered by songwriter/producer Ed Cobb (who also penned ‘Every Little Bit Hurts’ for Brenda Holloway) in 1964. The following year she recorded Cobb’s ‘Tainted Love’ for the Champion label.
Jones’ version of the song was – when I finally heard it – a real shocker, every bit as propulsive and soulful as the Soft Cell cover was wan, dissipated and blasé. It was immediately obvious how it had become a very popular spin on the dance floors in the North of England.
Jones went on to record a stack of 45s for Uptown and Minit in the 60s, eventually going on a European tour with the cast of ‘Hair’, where she met none other that former ace face converted into post-psychedelic mushroom gobbler Marc Bolan of T-Rex. She and Bolan fell in love and had a son, performing together until his untimely death in 1977, after which Jones returned to the US and recorded both as a solo and as a backing vocalist.
Jones was herself a songwriter, composing a number of songs for Motown artists, co-writing ‘If I Were Your Woman’ for Gladys Knight and the Pips.
There isn’t much information out there about Judy Street. Her original version of ‘What’ was recorded for HB Barnum’s LA-based Strider label in 1966 (I’ve never seen a picture of the original label), and promptly dropped off the face of the earth. Interestingly enough there was another (inferior) recording of ‘What’ by Melinda Marx (daughter of Groucho, seriously) on VeeJay. Come 1977, and Judy Street’s recording is a popular Northern Soul spin, so much so that John Anderson reissued it on his Grapevine label, where it went on to become the label’s biggest selling 45.
It was during this time period that a young lad named Marc Almond was (according to famed DJ Russ Winstanely) a habitue of the storied Wigan Casino, where he first heard, requested and danced to the records you see before you this fine day.
A few years later, he had the good creative sense to cut a small but significant segment of one scene and paste it on top of another, creating two pop hits (one huge, one not so much). Chances are while any number of soulies were poleaxed when they heard Soft Cell’s ‘Tainted Love’ and ‘What’ on their radios (or saw them on Top of the Pops), the vast majority of the pop audience had little or no inkling of where these songs had come from, or that so many of their countrymen and women had been dancing to the original versions of these songs for years.
I don’t know about you, but I find this kind of cross-pollination to be very interesting, and the kind of thing that the post-modern, post-internet, post-everything else culture has all but erased. Would such a scenario be possible today, where McLuhan’s Global Village has rendered international communication and sharing of obscure facts but a mouse-click away? I doubt it.
Either way, I hope you dig the tunes and I’ll see you all on Friday.
Greetings all, and welcome to the 2010 Funky16Corners Pledge Drive, beer blast and chili cook-off (well…just the first one, really, but I wouldn’t mind some cold beer and hot chili alongside the funk and soul 45s).
This is the fifth year I’ve come to you with my hand outstretched, asking that those of you that are so inclined, and of course can afford to, donate some small sum to contribute to the upkeep of the Funky16Corners empire (as it is).
To go into the WABAC machine for a moment, this all started four years ago, when Funky16Corners was the only blog I did, and was operated at very little cost, employing the same cheapo file storage and bandwidth that I used for the Funky16Corners web zine.
Then, out of the blue the good people at BoingBoing, a VERY heavily traveled site, linked to one of my posts, and in a single day Funky16Corners got enough traffic to erase a months worth of bandwidth, just about shutting things down.
It was at that point that I checked in with some of my more, how do they say ‘web savvy’ friends, who informed me that I should probably take the opportunity to move the whole shebang to a paid server space where storage and bandwidth spikes would not present such an issue.
So, I signed up and moved on to bigger and better things.
As a result, I started the yearly Pledge Drive in an attempt to offset the cost of the server.
In the years that followed, the Funky16Corners Radio Podcast (and the ensuing archive, the most heavily attended section of the site) got started, the blog moved from Blogger to WordPress, and then this year, following some menacing behavior by the otherwise wonderful folks at the free WordPress service, I crated up the whole mess and made the move to run the WordPress software (a related but separate entity from the blog host) our of my own server space. While doing that, I redesigned the blog, opened the Guest Mix Archive and watched my stats drop and subsequently rebound as the rest of the world adjusted their links accordingly. Of course, the fact that I only just discovered that I neglected to set up the post archives properly, means that they’ve been offline from when the blog moved in January until yesterday. That didn’t help.
As in previous Pledge Drives, I wanted to do something special to mark the occasion. This year’s shindig evolved out of a recent change, in the blog, and the real world as well.
The last year has seen two important acquisitions in the Funky16Corners equipment arsenal. First and foremost, last Christmas my wife got me a portable digital recorder. Second – thanks to an unexpected windfall from a rare trip to the slot machines – I finally picked up a second turntable and a mixer, completing my home DJ set-up.
What this new equipment allowed me to do was (among other things) to record, and present to you, ‘live’ DJ mixes. The first of these appeared at Funky16Corners via sets recorded live at Master Groove in New York City. Later on, after the Funky16Corners Record Vault and Podcast Lab was up and running, I started to record mixes from my own turntables.
It was after I posted one of these, with the caveat that mixes recorded live would not have accompanying zip files of individually recorded tracks (for obvious, labor intensive reasons), that a reader (thanks Michael!) suggested that these mixes have their own section of the blog, and their own numbering sequence.
I had been thinking of something similar, and decided to take this idea a step further.
Though I have done a fair number of guest mixes for other blogs/sites, I have never (aside from a collaboration with my man DJ Prestige) ever hosted guest mixes by other DJs here at Funky16Corners.
Taking a page from the ‘two birds with one stone’ book, I decided that this year’s Pledge Drive would be a great time for the opening of what I’m calling the Funky16Corners Soul Club.
The Soul Club will be a repository for live mixes (whether recorded in the club, or on the decks at home), both by yours truly, and by DJs whoes work and sensibility I respect.
The Funky16Corners Soul Club will be opening with a virtual ‘Allnighter’, that being a collection of eight separate mixes (two by me to open and close the festivities, six by others). Once you pull down the ones and zeros you’ll be able to simulate, in the home setting, free of sweat (other people’s anyway), spilled beer (same there) and the like, a full evening (and then some) of high quality, professionally mixed funk and soul music.
When I decided to put this together, I put out some feelers to some of my favorite DJs, including the core of the Asbury Park 45 Sessions Crew, Brian Poust aka Agent45, and DJ Tarik Thornton and asked them to contribute mixes for the grand opening of Soul Club.
If you’ve been a reader of this blog for any length of time, you’ve definitely heard about DJs Prestige, Prime Mundo, Bluewater and M-Fasis. I’ve been spinning with the Asbury Park 45 sessions crew for almost three years now, and during that time have developed a huge amount of respect for my fellow resident selectors.
Though I’ve DJ’d with a lot of people, my time with the AP45 crew has been a serious learning experience. These DJs have not only skills, and deep crates, but above all it’s their extraordinary taste that makes them great. I’ve written about it in this space before, but I have to reiterate how often an AP45 Sessions turns into a learning experience with one (or often more) DJ running up to the decks to see what another selector is spinning. There are many hot 45s in my DJ box that can be traced directly back to the AP45 Sessions, whether from one of the residents, or from one of the many distinguished guests that have graced us with their presence over the years.
DJ Prime Mundo may very well have the deepest crates of any working chef (including well known digger Julia Child). He applies the same levels of care and imagination to his DJ sets as he does to his food. Prime Mundo is – like every DJ represented here – a tireless digger with exceptional taste.
DJ Bluewater, in addition to being a longtime resident selector on the AP45 crew is the founder of Master Groove in NYC and a well regarded drum’n’bass DJ. He is a self described ‘funk 45 nerd’ and a connoisseur of heavy, heavy breakbeats.
M-Fasis, DJ and producer is the master of digging up and uncovering the heaviest records you’ve never heard of (or never expected). A resident at both the Asbury Park 45 Sessions and Master Groove, he also makes beats and produces.
Brian Poust, aka Agent45 is, in addition to running the most excellent Georgia Soul web site and blog, is one of the most respected soul DJs working today. Based out of Georgia, but traveling far and wide to spin funk, soul and gospel, Brian always brings the heat.
DJ Tarik Thornton is a native of New Orleans who has DJ’d (in clubs and on the radio) all over the country. He has a generosity of spirit, and like all the other DJs here, excellent taste in music. He started in college radio at WTUL in New Orleans, before relocating to New York City, and eventually Milwaukee, WI where he met up and started working with the crew at Burn Hearts. He has since spun with DJ Finewine (WFMU), Justin Salinas and the Hot Pants crew as well as the Hipshaker DJs in Minneapolis.
I don’t expect many of you to listen to these mixes end to end (though considering the amount of heat therein, you could do much worse with the next seven plus hours of your life) but the interwebs and MP3s being what they are, you can pull them down, file them however you like and soak up the good stuff at your leisure.
Once again, if you dig what I do here at Funky16Corners (and over at Iron Leg as well), and the current economy hasn’t left you destitute, please take the time to click on the Paypal link and toss a couple of shekels into the hat to help keep things going. It would be greatly appreciated, and since I’m going to keep working on this blog as long as time (and money) allow, it’ll keep the long list (close to 100) of mixes up and growing.
Over the last ten years, with the web zine, the blogs and getting to spin records in a variety of settings, the whole Funky16Corners ‘thing’ has become a big part of my life. The reason for this (aside from obvious matters of time spent) has a lot to do with the interaction these efforts bring me with many cool people, including the collectors and DJs, but also with the folks who just plain love the music and take the time to come out to the gigs or stop by the blog to add to the conversation, or just to say ‘Hi!’.
I’ve made many new friends, been turned on to lots of new music and most importantly found a productive outlet for my passion.
So, dig in, enjoy the music (click on the pledge links) and I’ll see you all next week.
Listen/Download – Wayne Cochran – Goin’ Back to Miami
Greetings all.
Hey everybody!
Welcome to the new week.
Is everyone ready to get their eyebrows singed?
In the many years (decades) that I’ve been chasing records, there are records that I will seek forever, ultimately unrequited.
Then, with a tip of the chapeau to the supernatural, there are the records that are meant to be mine, pushed into my view, and delivered to my crates by the intervention of what the denizens of the mystic east once referred to as kismet.
Today’s selection is one of them.
Not too long ago, I purchased a video collection of performances from a Detroit dance party show, mainly because it featured video of one of my all time faves, the mighty Jerry-O. So, some time goes by and eventually the DVD popped through the mailslot, after which I had only to wait for some of that good ‘alone’ time, on account of nobody else in this crib has the slightest interest in watching fuzzy, third generation bootleg video of people they don’t know, lip-synching on a long forgotten TV show while a bunch of bored teenagers do the frug in the background.
That time finally came, and I settled in with a cold drink and some potato chips to enhance the viewing experience.
Things started out well enough, with some footage of Detroit garage greats the Rationals (I’m a big garage punk fan, too) and rolled right along to a variety of 1966/67 stuff, all groovy. In fact there were (including today’s selection) no less than three mindbending revelations (for me anyway) that will all appear in this space in the weeks to come.
Anyway, I’m really digging this video, when who should pop up on the screen but my old fave, Mr Wayne Cochran.
If you don’t know Wayne Cochran, you really ought to, because in the annals of whiteboy soul, Wayne and his giant, psychedelic mushroom cloud of a hairdo cast a big shadow. When you first see film of him performing it is immediately clear that he was trying his damndest to be the white, chubbsy-ubbsy James Brown (circa 1965), but when you have the chance to soak in the breadth of his catalog you begin to realize that he was something more than that, i.e. possessed of a genuinely unique, remarkably enthusiastic take on rock and soul music.
Anyway, I was watching the video, and then the host of the show introduces Wayne and says that he’s going to do a song called ‘Goin’ Back to Miami’.
“OK”, I thought. “I’ve never heard this one before”.
Then, in a flash, the entire landscape of Cochranistan underwent a radical change, erupting in a white hot blast of flame that pretty much knocked me on my ass.
I mean, holy flaming fuckballs…I’d heard a lot of Wayne Cochran, but none of it, no matter how right, tight and out of sight came within a mile of ‘Goin’ back to Miami’.
It was as if Wayne got ahold of Otis’s ‘I Can’t Turn You Loose’, poured rocket fuel all over it and threw a match on it. BLAMMO!!!
My eyes were rolling, my hair was standing on end and the musical card catalog in my head was upended and spilled on the floor, never to be properly shuffled again.
There was Wayne, poured into a suit three sizes too small, swiveling about the stage while the band, complete with capes (no shit!) work it out behind him. There’s a video out there of Cochran performing this same song live on the Jackie Gleason show, with Wayne in a suit the color of a key lime pie absolutely burning up the stage, working the call and response with the band, that has to be the craziest thing Gleason ever whipped on the folks at home. It’s not hard to picture some old guy smacking the side of his TV set wondering what the fuck had gone wrong.
So, once things came to a halt, I tore into the interwebs in search of a vinyl copy of same.
Imagine the depth of my crestfallen-ness when I came up snake eyes.
No matter where I looked – aside from CD comps – I could not locate ‘Goin’ Back to Miami’ anywhere.
I saved the search, and went back and assuaged myself by playing the video repeatedly.
A few days later, I repeated my search and found a copy, up for auction, with one bid (standing at 99 cents) from a seller who lived about five minutes from my house.
I assumed that the first bidder must have laid down a serious chunk of change, so I entered a significant maximum bid, instantly driving the price up to the princely sum of one dollar and thirty seven cents (!?!?) which is where it stayed until the auction ended, with yours truly the victor (to whom, according to legend, belong the spoils*).
It was as if the keeper of the great book of vinyl suddenly noticed a forgotten, dog-eared page, opened it and discovered that it had been written that this very banger of a 45 was destined for my record box, and with a wave of his hand (or magic wand, or tone arm), made it so.
A few days later the 45 hopped out of the mailbox and into my greedy meathooks right onto the turntable, and the next thing you know, abba-zabba, zip-a-dee-doo-dah, biff-bang-pow, I’m playing it, and replaying it at the kind of high volume generally reserved for amped up teenagers, the hard of hearing and those of us swept up in a transformative religious experience (my case being the latter).
And so, I placed it on the platter and let the wonderfulness flow up through the stylus where it passed into the computer, transmuted into the ones and zeros of legend so that this two minutes and forty seconds of nuthouse soul might be shared with you all.
So strap yourself in, crank up the volume and let it rip.
You will not be disappointed.
I promise.
You can thank me later.
Peace
Larry
*This particular scenario has played itself out, in very similar ways, many times before. Enough so, that were I a superstitious/religious type I might be inclined to suspect some kind of divine intervention.
I hope every has spent the week ingesting Funky16Corners Radio v.82, on account of it’s packed from end to end with positively stellar soul 45s, each and every one deserving of close, individual scrutiny, but also groovy in a bunch (like bananas).
I’m already ruminating on the composition of my next Master Groove set, and a couple of recent acquisitions seem to be pointing me in a specific direction (yet to be revealed). Since it appears we’re going to spend the weekend buried in snow (again) I’ll have plenty of time to mull the subject over. Also, a special word of thanks to Gregorious over at Ourstage for a very nice write-up on Funky16Corners!
Today’s selection is yet another in an ever growing string of tasty records, knowledge of which was imparted to me by the mighty Tony C over in the UK. Every once in a while Tony will drop me a line singing the praises of a record, and I know by now, if I’m not already familiar with it, I’d better find myself one because I’m going to dig it. That’s what they refer to as brand loyalty. Over the decades of my digging career (aren’t careers supposed to make you money??) I’ve been very fortunate in that any generosity I’ve given has come back to me tenfold.
This has a lot to do with hanging with other vinyl heads who know their stuff. If you head out on an expedition, and you have the benefit of another person’s digging skill set, shared information will always result in more cool records. My man Haim has been namechecked in this space countless times, because he has turned me on to an equal number of amazing records.
I’ve never had the opportunity to dig with Tony, but it is clear, via our correspondence that we dig the same kinds of music. Thanks to the fact that nobody knows all the great soul and funk records, and most people don’t know the same records, we are informed by one another when something cool comes along.
I’ve always thought that those in the collector/dj community who thrive on exclusivity – i.e. crate digger ‘secret squirrel’-isms* – were doing themselves, and the rest of us a huge disservice. There’s something unbelievably childish/selfish about things like that. Congratulations! You’ve found a wonderful piece of music and you’re going to keep it to yourself, so you, and only you can listen to it while locked in your mother’s basement, covered in potato chip crumbs and your own, special stink. Kinda sad, n’est ce pas?
The record I bring you today is one of those 45s that I’d never come across until Tony brought it to my attention. I grabbed myself a copy, dug it a lot, and as a result I’m able to pass it along to you fine people this very day.
I have always been a fan of Jerry Lee Lewis. Of the giants that are blasted into rock’n’roll’s Mt Rushmore – Little Richard, Chuck Berry, Bo Diddley, Fats Domino, Buddy Holly, Elvis Presley – it has always been a close race between Mr Penniman and Mr Lewis (with Mr Diddley coming in a very close third) as to who should be placed at the top of the pantheon.
Despite a very uneven career, it has always been clear to me that the Killer is one of the realest of the real, and this is in spite of the fact that he is a world class reckless badass. Head over to YouTube and take a gander at the man in performance, wrestling with his piano (and his unraveling pompadour), shooting sparks out of every part of his being and generally rolling like a juggernaut through the teenagers of the late 1950s. Only Little Richard – like Jerry Lee with a caboose full of dynamite – rocked harder, crazier and badder, specially since he was doing it in a segregated society.
As I said before, for one of the true giants of his era Jerry Lee didn’t have a tremendous amount of success. He only had about a half dozen significant hits (mostly in 1957/58) and by the early 60s most of his chart appearance consisted of covers of other people’s material. By the mid-60s he had switched labels, leaving Sun for Smash, and was weaving in and out of his stylistic lane.
It’s important to note at this point that while Lewis spent much of the 60s jumping back and forth between rock, country and soul (yes, soul) this wasn’t really much of a change. All of those elements were present to varying extents from the very beginning of his career, and it’s likely that any point where one of those influences became more pronounced than the others, someone else (like his record company) were attempting to push him where they thought he’d sell some records.
Today’s selection, ‘Shotgun Man’, which appeared on Lewis’s 1967 LP ‘Soul My Way’ – while unmistakably Jerry Lee Lewis – veers off into unusual directions. Those in the know might slap a ‘Mod soul’ label on this one, partly because of who the artist is, but also because it combines aspects of mainstream soul music (as it was in 1966/67) with older R&B roots and just a touch of propulsive rock’n’roll. I’d even go as far as to say that a little more emphasis on ‘the one’ would have nudged this into proto-funk territory (or at least hard edged sock soul). Penned by Jerry Lee’s road manager/brother-in-law Cecil Harrelson, ‘Shotgun Man’ makes references to a number of songs (‘Seventh Son’ ‘Agent 00 Soul’) and people (Howling Wolf, disc jockey John R) and at times sounds like James Brown pushed through a hillbilly strainer. There are points where it reminds me of some of his old labelmate Charlie Rich’s more soulful material.
I hope you dig it, and I’ll be back on Monday
Peace
Larry
*In saying this, I don’t include the Northern Soul practice of ‘cover-ups’, or exclusive dubs in the world of reggae soundclash, which are more a part of the theatricality of the experience. There’s an element of competition, but it’s less about keeping it to yourself than it is about bringing something special to the night.
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