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Salient. Victoria University Student Newspaper. Volume 37, Number 9. 1st May 1974

Record

Record

3 & 3: Isley Brothers. CBS 474154.

Growing up in the record biz: back in 1958 the Isleys were a bunch of bush niggers that RCA didn't have a clue how to record. Finally they handed them over to two Italian producers who'd had some previous success with novelty acts. Give these wildmen some stuff like "The Saints Go Marching In" and see what happens. The resulting LP (recently reissued) was truly wierd. It was a bit like watching Red Riding Hood walking the wolf. The Isleys simply gobbled cornball arrangements right up and turned the whole thing into a revival meeting. That contract produced one classic called "Shout". No, John Stier, Lulu did not do the original version.

Three years later the Isleys turned up on Wand records. One more classic "Twist and Shout". Its fascinating to hear how George Harrison copied the Isleys horn break note for note in the Beatles version. Fascinating also to hear how the Beatles need three breaths to get the high note that O'Keefe Isley gets in one amazing whoop.

Three years later they signed with Motown. Endless hassles and another classic single "This Old Heart of Mine".

Three years later the Isleys started their own company, T-Neck. They became businessmen. So far, two big hits "Love the one you're with" and "That Lady", the Crack that leads off the current LP. I'm sure I liked the old r & b Isleys better, but then I don't care too much for this soft Philadelphia soul music. Yes, it is clever, yes it is musically more complex and the Isleys, themselves probably like it well enough. But it's sad to hear talent like this doing stuff like the Doobies and Seals and Croft; that's abit like having Asbkenazy put out a record of Piano Party Pops. It's not just that the days of early Motown and early Atlantic are finished, but that these guys have ended up doing to themselves what those two Italians tried to do sixteen years ago.

3 & 3: The Isley Brothers (CBS) Imagination: Gladys Knight and the Pips (Buddah).

For some strange reason, soul music's suddenly become big in New Zealand. And it can't all be put down to Philadelphia International Records and Gamble-and-Huff's emergence with the O'Jays and others because neither the Isleys nor the Pips have anything to do with the "Philly sound",

The conclusion, one hopes, is that Salient's "Rock props up class lines" (April 24) is flyblown intellectualism and yer middle-class brains have owned up, found joy in three minute niceties and subsequently stumbled upon those who can shove most into 180 seconds.

Lucky for the open-minded, then. These two albums happen to be very, very good and nobody said anything about "in their own field" either. Both contain massive hit sellers, both ooze production and "Imagination" has the best ghetto boo-hoo in "Window Raisin' Granny" since Clarence Carter's "Patches".

"3 & 3" is the Isleys' fifth album and their first in five years (the last was "Soul on the Rocks") Salient's own Chuck Wagon tells me he has the Brothers' first-ever LP, "Twist and Shout" (circa 1962), so the man must be pleasantly shocked in the "new" sound. In 38 minutes Chuck will hear the extended version of "That Lady" with some whizzo guitar from Ernie Isley, a breathless "Don't Let Me Be Lonely Tonight" and the bassissimo "What It Comes Down To". He'll also hear a rather aborted "Listen to the Music" which should have stopped dead in Toulouse Street but never mind. Chuck's gonna like it.

As exemplification of how good black can sound, "Imagination" is light years ahead of Diana Ross and/or The Supremes and may present an embarrassment to those who thought James Brown had soul wrapped up.

Despite the cover and despite the Pips who scamper in and-out of Gladys' tear-struck tales with horribly cute things like "....a superstar/but he didn't get far", Gladys Knight and the Pips — as a unit — are symbolic of the personification of soul with all its cabaret yukness and mohair suits.

"Midnight Train to Georgia" is the album's gem but take time and discover the finer points of "Once in a Lifetime Thing" and the smooth funk of "Window Raisin' Granny".

And if nothing satisfies, take note that the Pips' version of "I Can See Clearly Now" outstrips Chicago's "Questions 67 and 68" by 11 seconds in The Longest Fade-Out.

"Imagination" equals Absolute Class: it really has little to do with "class lines" and I'm pretty ' sure nobody will laugh. For a minute, listen: the loss is only yours.

Laid Bach: Greg Allmam. Asylum Recording.

On reading the booklet that came with the Duane Allman anthology you get the very clear feeling that Greg was dragged into the Allman's Band on the back of his brother's talent and personality. But on this LP little brother shines, as singer, composer and writer.

The only complaint is that at $5.75 the buyer is getting a little short-changed. There are only eight tracks, and they're not particularly long, only one in fact reaches six minutes. Also much of the material has appeared on early Allman LPs. Mind you, the current versions here of 'Midnight Rider' and 'Please Conic Home' are exceptionally good, the former being a more ghostly version than the one on 'Idiewild South' though the earlier version compensates in other ways. Notably, the vocals are stronger.

Also, do we really need another version of Jackson Browne's "These Days"? However the worst is the note on which the album ends, a lumbering version of "Will the Circle be Unbroken". Someone should tell him that these hymns should be done sparely and starkly to give these lyrics a chance. But when the lyrics are done as tremulously as Greg Allman does them here, and when the whole piece is burdened with 'this over busy arrangement then there's no hope left for it. A disaster.

So I ended up panning this album. Which in too bad because what little you get is generally quite good, and he's developing a wonderfully tuckered out singing voice. The couple of new tracks are reasonable enough but all in all its a luxury to own this LP for what you get here. My advice would be to buy his single of 'Midnight Rider' to add to the Allman's version you've already got and wait for the next LP by the group.

It's Like You Never Left: Dave Mason (CBS).

Winwood let his ego loose with Blind Faith, a reconstituted Traffic emerged, two Muscle Shoalers were added, and whoopee, they were a unit again.

Last exit — Dave Mason — somewhere in the USA. Mission — to shake off the vicissitudes of his Traffic association. His struggle back to fame was a slow one: an unfulfilling session with Clapton was followed by an unproductive album with Mama Cass, and then the "Headkeeper" album which Dave has since renounced.

The search for identity has begun — no whitewashed cottages in the Berkshire Downs. Instead, a small club in Los Angeles called The Troubador. The philosophy was: "Hello, I'm Dave Mason, I'm not a superstar but here's my music. Hope you like it."

This album brought a smile to my lips first time around. Mason's voice is plaintive and insistent; the songs smack of immediacy and pressing urgency. On the whole, the melodies are smooth-flowing, undercut with tales of lost loves ("Maybe") and despair ("The Lonely One"). Mason's approach is low-key and nonchalent, but the basic guitar, bass, drums combo has been augmented by horns, harmonica (Stevie Wonder) and congas to give a full delivery.

Punchy brass highlights the stand-out track "Misty Morning Stranger". Mason's guitar trills sound effortless — whether it's acoustic or electric, his arpeggios crisp and ringing. I'll bet he could play all night on a stage.

Dave Mason is a hole-in-the-wall boy. The guy's so humble you just know it's all genuine.

Backing musicians like Keltner, Radle, Nash and Reeves give you some idea of the direction he's heading in.

"If You've Got Love" is George Harrison's version of "If Not For You" to a tee. There's nothing offensive here — in fact you'll probably like a few of the tracks.

The message is plain — relax; take your shirt off. Happily, Mason's no paranoid.

"Then you showed myself to me

And I found I needn't be

Another lonely one."

The headkeeper is back, at peace with the world, now, perhaps. It's like you never left, Dave!

The Joker: Steve Miller Band (Capitol)

Running beside Andy Pratt's "Avenging Annie" 'The Joker' could have been last summer's superlative small-play: essential guitar whoongs. a buncha sleazy, slam-bam words about pussy and peaches and a voice that was Fatigue Supreme.

Since then, the albums have arrived and where Pratt trembles through 40 minutes of monstrous bravura. Miller plods on. Too much Gorgonzola, and a heap excess of dust-my-broom.

So who cares?

Steve Miller plays blues and it ain't taken me long to reckon that 'The Joker' isn't the dismal muddle I first thought it was but a cute slop dissident twang, mostly understrung and consistently attractive.

Look at the cover. Mary. That ain't no piquant kid. That's Steve Miller with a wig and if he doesn't look at all risque, that's cos he's 30 and his clothes don't fit like they used to.

Mary says this LP doesn't knock her off her chair. But then. Mary never had the pains of growing-up-with-Yes.