Joy sticks
When your drummer has a voice to die for, you let him sing, says David Hutcheon.
Aaron Frazer
★★★★
Introducing...
DEAD OCEANS. CD/DL/LP
TO THESE EARS, Durand Jones & The Indications were the soundtrack to those last good times we shared. With their stew of pre-funk James Brown, finger-snap Stax and
Philly soul, the Indiana-based quintet grew from upstairs rooms in pubs to selling out decent-sized halls as 2018 turned into 2019. They broadened their palette between their eponymous debut LP (recorded for $452) and American Love Call, on which drummer Aaron Frazer handled vocals on five tracks, his high tenor a showstopper; and, as 2020 neared, their momentum suggested the big league was there for the taking.
But something was happening, Mr Jones, and we all know what it was. This schism is going to cause many groups to press ‘reset’, but there’s more needs rebooting than just the bands. If Frazer’s voice brings Curtis Mayfield to mind, so do the words on his solo debut: Bad News could be about a girl best avoided, but read between the lines – “Can you hear me? I’m crying” – and it’s as pointed as anything on There’s No Place Like America
Today, while the bass line can’t hide its debt to Inner City Blues.
Indeed, the new era finds Frazer sitting comfortably atop those foundation stones of soul. Recorded in a week-long session in Nashville with Dan Auerbach and American Sound Studio veterans the Memphis Boys – and out on the first release date of 2021, January 8, in a nod to another Aaron, surname Presley – authenticity is a hefty part of its DNA. Barry White wouldn’t have improved on the orchestration of You Don’t Wanna Be My Baby, James Brown crops up in the opening notes of Girl On The Phone, Eugene Record couldn’t make you miss a lover more, and Over You is a frantic stomp that will have Wiganites salivating.
Though all are welcome, Frazer isn’t courting a Northern audience of British dancers but one of America’s prime markets for soul, the Chicano lowrider scene, where doo wop, gospel and ballads blast from vintage cars – and Ride With Me feels written as an anthem for that scene – where the tensions invoked by strained, pleading falsettos transcend the limitations of real life, where redemption is always just a shot away. The hard-scrabble life is put into perspective – “A brand new foundation, and I thank you so much, ’cos I found salvation” – on the closing, hymn-like Leanin’ On Your Everlasting Love.
We can but hope dawn brings a new day, with the sunlight and opportunities for all that Frazer seeks. About the only quibble you’ll have is with the title. Music this soulful should need no introduction.