Family, stoned
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The Sylvers, 10 siblings born in the Watts district of LA from 1951 to 1966 – nine of whom, at one time or another, have played in the band that bears their name – while best known for R&B smash Boogie Fever cut for Capitol Records, had earlier made records for small label Pride. The most sought after is Sylvers II (Mr Bongo, 1973) ★★★, all whipped-cream pop-soul and proto-funk breaks, and written mostly by eldest brother Leon Sylvers III. Not as slick as The Jacksons – the vocals aren’t always on point – but that adds to its charm. Also from 1973 and on Mr Bongo, 11-year-old brother Foster’s solo album, Foster Sylvers ★★★, went after some Michael Jackson action. Though Foster’s a shade squeakier than MJ, lead-off single Misdemeanour is a wonk-funk delight. However, a crack at Mockingbird, with a wayward recorder solo, takes some digesting, and an ambitious medley of Paul McCartney’s Uncle Albert, Lullaby and Hey Jude goes off the rails. Five albums produced by Norman Whitfield for The Temptations are back through Elemental Music, starting with 1969’s Puzzle People ★★★, a style-update in the time of Sly Stone with smash hit I Can’t Get Next To You and Message From A Black Man which, despite being a radio favourite, was thought by the band to be too politically strong to perform live. Whitfield placing these social conscience songs at a tangent to the Temps’ self-image and slick contemporary stage act meant these albums were more his than theirs. 1970’s Psychedelic Shack ★★★, a mistimed shout-out to the hippy crowd, led to this era being termed ’psychedelic soul’. Sociological soul might be closer, as Whitfield and writer Barrett Strong delved into topics as un-stoned as Vietnam, ghetto poverty and keeping up with the Joneses. On 1971’s Sky’s The Limit ★★★★, Smiling Faces Sometimes is a dub-like whirlpool of vocals and extended musical passages, while 1972’s Solid Rock ★★★★, the overlooked first album with Dennis Edwards and Richard Street in the lineup, delivers a great extended take on Bill Withers’ Ain’t No Sunshine in the vein of Isaac Hayes, and the cool but time locked Stop The War Now. Here’s Whitfield perfecting the formula that will lead to the epic Papa Was A Rolling Stone later in 1972. Whitfield went all-in on 1973’s Masterpiece ★★★. But the beautifully-played title track feels slightly uninspired, as does a sequel to Papa… called Ma. Each of these albums has moments of riveting invention. It’s a shame Whitfield couldn’t have condensed their ideas into a couple of superb records over the period instead of having to churn out several albums per year.
Kid-funk and so-called psychedelic soul in the early ‘70s. By Jim Irvin “A WAYWARD RECORDER SOLO TAKES SOME DIGESTING."