Afrosound was born from the desire of Discos Fuentes vice-president José María Fuentes to come up with a domestic version of the emerging African and Latin rock sounds coming from outside the country, inspired by groups like Osibisa and Santana. The mission was to emulate the guitar-heavy tropical sounds emanating from Perú and Ecuador at the time. According to various sources, the 1972 tune "La Danza De Los Mirlos" (by Peru's Los Mirlos) emerged as a great success in Colombia and with it a new way of interpreting the country's most famous musical export, namely cumbia, through a Peruvian perspective. Afrosound would cover not only "La Danza De Los Mirlos" and name their debut LP after the song in 1973, but they would also faithfully reproduce the unique sound of their guitar hero Enrique Delgado. The first Afrosound recordings were made with a fantastic rhythm section consisting of talented musicians that had played with Fruko y sus Tesos. To add to the hippie vibe, there were plenty of whacky improvised vocal asides (called "inspiraciones"), plus custom fuzz, wah-wah, flange and echo effects boxes for the guitar and keyboards. A barrage of odd sounding synths, drum machines and other electronic flourishes were sprinkled in to spice up the proceedings, providing a competitive edge that made the Fuentes sound so unique. La Danza De Los Mirlos kicks off with most famous Afrosound hit of all, 'Caliventura', a genius blend of funk and cumbia. Aside from the cumbia amazónica title tune, there are several other covers including three popular songs by Nelson y Sus Estrellas, plus radically reimagined versions of various Colombian costeño classics published by Fuentes. Mario "Pachanga" provides a sad but still groove-oriented Christmas son montuno/cumbia hybrid while Fruko brings us the bomba-funk ditty "El Chorrillo" and the rocking cumbia Andina gem "Cabeza De Chorlito" where Sepúlveda channels Enrique Delgado. Fruko collaborator Hernán "Hercovalle" Colorado Vallejo rounds things out with the melancholic psychedelic cumbia "Esperando Por Ti", proving that every tropical party has to have its down side as well. All in all, the dozen tracks on Afrosound's debut long play make for a surprisingly diverse palette from which these Colombian musicians painted their daring portrait of Peruvian cumbia, returning the favor in bold colors that still resonate almost 50 years later.
Afrosound’s mission was to emulate the guitar-heavy tropical sounds emanating from Perú and Ecuador at the time. To add to the hippie vibe, there were plenty of whacky improvised vocal asides (called ‘inspiraciones’), plus custom fuzz, wah-wah, flange and echo effects boxes for the guitar and keyboards. A barrage of odd sounding synths, drum machines and other electronic flourishes were also sprinkled in to spice up the proceedings.
The dozen tracks on Afrosound’s debut long play make for a surprisingly diverse palette from which these Colombian musicians painted their daring portrait of Peruvian cumbia, returning the favor in bold colors that still resonate almost 50 years later.
“La danza de los mirlos” kicks off with most famous Afrosound hit of all, ‘Caliventura’, a genius blend of funk and cumbia. Also, there are several covers including various Colombian costeño classics, a groove oriented son montuno / cumbia hybrid, Fruko’s bomba-funk ditty ‘El chorrillo’, the melancholic psychedelic cumbia ‘Esperando por ti’ and the rocking cumbia andina gem ‘Cabeza de chorlito’.
Released in 1975 by the Mexican label Orfeón, Baila el Bump is an intriguing and funky dance album from Grupo Santa Cecilia, a lesser-known act from Mexico City. The album stands out as a time capsule of mid-'70s musical trends, capitalizing on the global dance craze of "the Bump," a popular dance style similar to the American Shuffle. This LP is designed to get listeners moving, with its infectious rhythms and playful energy, while also reflecting the band’s ability to blend genres.
The album features nine tracks, clocking in at around 31 minutes, and is heavily centered on the "Bump" theme—several song titles explicitly reference it, like "Baila Bump" and "Yeh Yeah Bump." The sound is rooted in deep funk, with groovy basslines and a driving beat, but it’s infused with the band’s pop-rock origins, giving it a distinctive flavor. A standout feature is the use of atypical instrumentation for a funk record, such as a tinny combo organ that adds a quirky, retro charm. Tracks like "Africa Bump" hint at an eclectic influence, possibly nodding to Afro-Latin rhythms, while maintaining a cohesive dance-floor vibe.
Critically, Baila el Bump is a departure from Grupo Santa Cecilia’s earlier work, which leaned more toward pop-rock. This shift suggests an intentional pivot to ride the wave of the dance music trend, and the result is a fun, unpretentious record that doesn’t take itself too seriously. While it may not be a groundbreaking masterpiece, it’s a terrific listen for fans of funky Latin music or anyone curious about Mexico’s take on global dance fads of the era. The album’s rarity—having been tucked away in obscurity for years—only adds to its charm for collectors and crate-diggers.
Drums, Congas, Percussion, Vocals – Ike- Mike Meme
Guitar [Solo] – Jake Solo
Keyboards – Robert Bailey
Lead Vocals, Rhythm Guitar – Karchi-Melvin Noks
Producer – Majek
Strings, Keyboards – Francis Monkman
Violin – Miranda
Vocals – Ann
Ofege’s final studio album, How Do You Feel, released in 1978, serves as the closing chapter for a band that emerged as teenage pioneers in Lagos, Nigeria. Formed in the early 1970s, Ofege had already left a mark on Nigerian music with their debut Try and Love (1973), followed by The Last of the Origins (1976) and Higher Plane Breeze (1977). Their fourth album, How Do You Feel, wraps up a brief yet influential career, blending psychedelic rock, funk, and Afrobeat into a sound that was uniquely their own.
How Do You Feel showcases a noticeable shift in Ofege’s musical direction. While their early work leaned heavily on psychedelic rock with fuzzy guitars and intricate rhythms, this album embraces the funk and disco trends of the late 1970s. Expect punchy basslines, syncopated guitar riffs, and a stronger presence of keyboards, all woven together with their signature Afrobeat grooves. The result is a tighter, more polished sound that’s undeniably danceable—an evolution that reflects global musical currents while keeping their Nigerian roots intact.
Even with this shift, Ofege retains the youthful energy that defined their earlier releases. Now in their early twenties, the band members bring a refined interplay between instruments, highlighting their growth as musicians. However, fans of their raw, psych-rock beginnings might find this album less adventurous, as it trades some of that experimental edge for groove-oriented accessibility.
The album’s title, How Do You Feel, hints at introspection, and the lyrics likely explore themes of love, self-reflection, and social awareness. By 1978, Ofege had matured beyond their teenage years, and their songwriting reflects a broader perspective. While specific tracks aren’t detailed here, the songs probably balance personal narratives with the upbeat energy of the music, creating a mix that’s both thought-provoking and easy to move to. This duality keeps the album engaging for listeners who enjoy depth alongside a good groove.
Production-wise, How Do You Feel feels polished compared to Ofege’s earlier efforts. The sound is cleaner, with a clear emphasis on balancing the instruments—a nod to late-1970s techniques and the needs of funk and disco. This clarity enhances the album’s danceability, though it might lack the unpolished charm of their debut for some listeners. The shift suggests a band comfortable in the studio, adapting to contemporary standards while refining their craft.
When it hit the scene, How Do You Feel didn’t replicate the massive success of Try and Love, which had sold hundreds of thousands of copies in Nigeria. By the late 1970s, Afrobeat and highlife were dominating locally, and Ofege’s rock-funk fusion may have struggled to compete. The band’s breakup after this release further hints at a natural endpoint, perhaps as they sought new paths beyond music.
Over time, though, the album has found a second life. Reissues by labels like Tidal Waves Music and Strut Records have introduced it to international fans of 1970s Nigerian music, funk, and disco. While it doesn’t carry the same iconic status as their debut, How Do You Feel holds its own as a snapshot of Ofege’s adaptability and a key piece of their discography.
How Do You Feel is a vibrant farewell from Ofege, capturing them at a crossroads of funk, disco, and Afrobeat. It may not pack the raw, psychedelic punch of their earlier work, but it shines as a testament to their musical growth and willingness to evolve. For anyone diving into Ofege’s catalog—or the broader world of Nigerian music—this album is a must-listen, offering a groovy, reflective close to an unforgettable career.
Formed by teenage students from St. Gregory’s College in Lagos in the early 1970s, Ofege carved a unique niche in the country’s music scene by blending psychedelic rock, funk, and Afrobeat. Their third album, Higher Plane Breeze, released in 1977, marks a significant point in their discography, reflecting both their musical evolution and the shifting sounds of the late 1970s. Following their acclaimed debut Try and Love (1973) and their sophomore effort The Last of the Origins (1976), this album captures Ofege at a moment of transition, balancing their roots with new influences.
Higher Plane Breeze showcases Ofege’s growth as musicians, moving beyond the raw, youthful exuberance of their debut and the refined psychedelia of their second album. By 1977, now in their early twenties, the band leaned into the global rise of funk and disco while retaining their Afrobeat foundation. The album likely features punchy basslines, syncopated guitar riffs, and a pronounced rhythmic drive, making it more groove-oriented and danceable than their earlier work. The psychedelic flourishes that defined their initial sound are still present but woven more subtly into the mix, resulting in a polished yet adventurous sonic palette. This evolution reflects both their maturing musicianship—evident in tighter arrangements and cohesive interplay—and the broader musical trends of the era.
Lyrically, Higher Plane Breeze appears to blend personal reflection with the band’s established themes of love and social awareness. The album’s title hints at a sense of elevation or transcendence, suggesting lyrics that explore aspirations, dreams, or a desire to rise above challenges. This introspective tone likely adds depth to the album, complementing its upbeat rhythms with moments of emotional resonance. While staying true to their youthful spirit, Ofege’s words on this record may reflect a slightly more mature perspective, shaped by their experiences as rising stars in Nigeria’s music scene.
The production on Higher Plane Breeze aligns with late-1970s trends, delivering a polished sound that enhances its groove-heavy tracks. If produced by Odion Iruoje, who helmed their earlier albums, it would carry his signature blend of clarity and raw energy, preserving Ofege’s distinct identity. Alternatively, a new producer could have introduced a cleaner, more commercial edge, emphasizing the funk and disco influences. Either way, the production elevates the album’s dancefloor appeal while maintaining its artistic integrity, making it a standout in their catalog.
Upon its release, Higher Plane Breeze didn’t replicate the massive commercial success of Try and Love, which had sold hundreds of thousands of copies in Nigeria. In 1977, the Nigerian music landscape was increasingly dominated by Afrobeat and highlife, and Ofege’s rock-funk fusion may have struggled to find a broad audience. However, the album has since gained a cult following internationally, thanks to reissues by labels like Tidal Waves Music and Strut Records. Its innovative blend of funk, disco, and Afrobeat resonates with modern listeners, and its tracks have likely been celebrated or sampled by enthusiasts of 1970s African music. Today, it’s regarded as a hidden gem that underscores Ofege’s versatility and lasting impact.
Higher Plane Breeze is a vibrant, groove-driven chapter in Ofege’s discography, highlighting their ability to evolve with the times while staying rooted in their unique sound. Though it lacks the raw psychedelic edge of their debut, it excels with tight, danceable rhythms and a polished production that feels timeless. For fans of funk, disco, or Afrobeat, this album offers a compelling listen, capturing Ofege at a crossroads—honoring their past while embracing a new musical era. While it may not have achieved the fame of Try and Love during its initial run, Higher Plane Breeze stands as an essential piece of Nigeria’s musical legacy, deserving of its rediscovery by contemporary audiences.
Ofege, a Nigerian band formed by teenage students from St. Gregory’s College in Lagos, made waves in the early 1970s with their innovative blend of psychedelic rock, funk, and Afrobeat. Their second studio album, The Last of the Origins, released in 1976, follows their massively successful debut, Try and Love (1973). While the user refers to it as Ofege’s third album, standard discography lists it as their second, succeeded by Higher Plane Breeze (1977) and How Do You Feel (1978). For this review, we’ll treat The Last of the Origins as their second album, aligning with its widely accepted place in their catalog.
The Last of the Origins builds on the foundation laid by Try and Love, refining Ofege’s signature sound. The album retains the fuzzy guitar solos, intricate African rhythms, and youthful energy that defined their debut, but introduces a more polished and cohesive approach. The psychedelic rock elements are dialed back slightly, making room for a stronger emphasis on funk and Afrobeat influences—a shift that reflects the growing prominence of Afrobeat in Nigeria during the mid-1970s, spearheaded by artists like Fela Kuti. Tracks alternate between high-energy, groove-driven numbers and slower, melodic pieces, showcasing the band’s versatility and growth as musicians. The interplay between the guitar and rhythm section feels tighter, a testament to their development despite still being in their late teens.
Lyrically, the album moves beyond the carefree exuberance of their earlier work. While themes of love and youthful experiences remain, there’s a noticeable depth in The Last of the Origins. The title suggests a transition—perhaps the end of their initial phase as a band and the beginning of a more introspective chapter. Songs explore personal reflection and subtle social commentary, hinting at a growing awareness of the world around them. This evolution aligns with the band members’ maturation, offering a glimpse into their expanding perspectives.
The production, likely helmed by Odion Iruoje—who shaped the raw yet polished sound of Try and Love—strikes a balance between capturing Ofege’s live intensity and delivering a cleaner, more focused record. Each instrument shines, from the crisp guitar lines to the pulsating bass and drums, creating a sound that’s both dynamic and accessible. The production quality enhances the album’s appeal, preserving the band’s infectious energy while showcasing their instrumental prowess.
Upon release, The Last of the Origins didn’t replicate the commercial success of Try and Love, which sold hundreds of thousands of copies in Nigeria. However, it was well-received locally and solidified Ofege’s reputation as pioneers of Nigerian psych-rock. In recent years, the album has found a new audience through international reissues by labels like Tidal Waves Music and Strut Records. This resurgence has cemented its status as a vital piece of Nigerian music history, introducing Ofege’s innovative sound to global listeners and highlighting their influence on the fusion of Western and African musical traditions.
The Last of the Origins is a worthy successor to Ofege’s debut, demonstrating their evolution as musicians and their continued innovation within the Nigerian music scene. While it may not have achieved the same fame as Try and Love, it remains a compelling listen—blending psychedelic rock, funk, and Afrobeat with a sophistication that belies the band’s young age. For fans of African music, psych-rock, or simply great music, this album offers a vibrant snapshot of 1970s Nigeria and the extraordinary talent of a group of teenagers who dared to break boundaries. Whether you’re a long-time fan or a newcomer, The Last of the Origins is an essential addition to any music collection, capturing Ofege at a moment of creative brilliance.
In the early 1970s, Nigeria was a hotbed of musical innovation, with genres like highlife, juju, and Afrobeat captivating the nation. Amid this vibrant scene, a group of teenage students from St. Gregory’s College in Lagos formed a band that would leave an indelible mark on Nigerian rock music. Ofege, named after a Yoruba word meaning "breaking bounds," defied expectations by blending psychedelic rock, funk, and Afrobeat into a sound that was as youthful and exuberant as its creators. Formed by guitarist Melvin Ukachi and bassist Paul Alade, the band quickly expanded into a five-piece ensemble with drummer Mike Meme, keyboardist Dapo Olumide, and rhythm guitarist Felix Inneh. Influenced by guitar legends like Carlos Santana and Jimmy Page, as well as African bands such as Osibisa, Ofege crafted a unique sound that resonated deeply with Nigeria’s youth. Their debut album, Try and Love, recorded in 1972 while they were still in high school, became a national sensation, selling hundreds of thousands of copies and cementing their status as one of Nigeria’s most beloved bands.
Ofege’s breakthrough came with Try and Love, a masterpiece of African psych rock that showcased their exceptional musicianship and songwriting despite their average age of 16. Recorded under the guidance of EMI producer Odion Iruoje, the album fused complex African rhythms with fuzzy psychedelic effects and heartfelt lyrics. Tracks like "Nobody Fails" subverted expectations with its quasi-waltz rhythm and catchy guitar riffs, while "Whizzy Llabo," a wild instrumental, highlighted their dexterity and groove. The emotional peak, "It’s Not Easy," a languorous ballad, moved listeners with its haunting melody and swaying backing vocals, later earning it placements in various TV shows. The album’s success thrust Ofege into the spotlight of Nigeria’s burgeoning psych-rock scene, alongside contemporaries like Blo, the Funkees, and Ofo the Black Company—a scene that, while overshadowed by Afrobeat’s legacy, was immensely popular locally at the time.
Following Try and Love, Ofege released three more albums: The Last of the Origins (1975), Higher Plane Breeze (1977), and How Do You Feel (1978). These records saw the band evolving their sound, incorporating funk, disco, and Afrobeat elements while retaining their psychedelic rock roots. Higher Plane Breeze stood out for its bold mix of funk and heavy rock guitars, paired with an iconic cover featuring a band member defiantly raising his middle fingers—a visual encapsulation of their rebellious spirit. Despite their musical growth, Ofege’s career was short-lived, and they disbanded after their fourth album in 1978. Their national success didn’t translate to international fame during their active years, but their music laid the groundwork for a lasting legacy.
Though Ofege’s time in the spotlight was brief, their impact on Nigerian music and the global psych-rock scene is undeniable. In recent years, their work has been rediscovered by international audiences, with reissues by labels like Tidal Waves Music and Strut Records introducing their sound to new generations. This resurgence has earned them a cult following among enthusiasts of psychedelic rock, funk, and Afrobeat. The band’s story—a group of teenagers creating timeless music—speaks to the power of youth and creativity. The tragic passing of Paul Alade in 2020 due to COVID-19 brought renewed attention to Ofege, reminding the world of their contributions. Their legacy endures through their recordings and the memories of those who witnessed their meteoric rise.
The early 1970s marked a vibrant period in Nigerian music, with Lagos emerging as a hub for innovative sounds. Influenced by Western rock legends like Carlos Santana and Jimmy Page, Ofege blended these inspirations with the rich African rhythms of their homeland. Produced by the legendary Odion Iruoje at EMI’s Lagos studios, Try and Love arrived at a time when bands like Blo, the Funkees, and Ofo the Black Company were also pushing musical boundaries, cementing Nigeria’s place in the global psych-rock and Afrobeat scenes.
Try and Love is a sonic journey that seamlessly merges psychedelic rock, funk, and Afrobeat. The album kicks off with "Nobody Fails," a track defined by its quirky quasi-waltz rhythm and infectious guitar riffs. Melvin Ukachi’s youthful vocals pair beautifully with the band’s tight instrumentation, setting the stage for what’s to come.
A standout instrumental, "Whizzy Llabo," highlights Ofege’s musical prowess. Fuzzy guitar solos echo Santana’s psychedelic style, while intricate African rhythms provide a groove that’s impossible to resist. This track exemplifies the band’s ability to bridge Western and African musical traditions. Another gem, "It’s Not Easy," is a slow, haunting ballad that reveals an emotional depth surprising for such young artists. Its swaying backing vocals and timeless melody have even landed it in modern TV shows, proving its enduring appeal.
Odion Iruoje’s production strikes a balance between polish and raw energy, allowing each instrument—guitar, bass, drums, and keyboards—to shine. The use of psychedelic effects alongside rock instrumentation and African rhythms creates a cohesive yet adventurous sound that feels both innovative and rooted in its cultural context.
Upon its release, Try and Love was a massive hit in Nigeria, selling hundreds of thousands of copies and propelling Ofege to national fame. However, it remained largely unknown outside the country for decades. In recent years, reissues by labels like Tidal Waves Music and Strut Records have sparked a global rediscovery, introducing the album to new audiences. Its influence can be felt in modern music, and it’s now celebrated as a pioneering work in Nigerian psych-rock history.
Listening to Try and Love today, its youthful energy and genre-defying creativity still captivate. The album has aged gracefully, though some production elements may feel slightly dated. Its charm lies in the band’s ability to craft complex, engaging music at such a young age—a feat that remains impressive nearly 50 years later. While it’s not without minor flaws (like occasional unevenness in pacing), these are easily overshadowed by its strengths.
Try and Love is a must-listen for fans of African music, psychedelic rock, or anyone curious about Nigerian popular culture in the 1970s. It’s a testament to Ofege’s extraordinary talent and a snapshot of a dynamic era in music history. This album’s unique blend of styles and its timeless appeal make it a classic that continues to resonate with listeners worldwide.
01. Saturday Night Special (Part I) 2:50 02. Saturday Night Special (Part II) 4:03 03. Joy Road 4:54 04. Belle Isle Daze (Part I) 4:10 05. Belle Isle Daze (Part II) 3:21 06. Creative Musicians 3:07 07. Cheeba (Part I) 5:29 08. Cheeba (Part II) 4:26 09. Allen Barnes 2:45 10. On Your Mind 3:52 11. Help Me Get Away 3:47
Alto Saxophone – Norma Bell Drums, Vocals – Leonard King Electric Guitar, Electric Bass – Ron English Electric Piano, Organ, Mellotron – Lyman Woodard
Percussion – Lorenzo "Mr. Rhythm" Brown Percussion – Bud Spangler
Release from press kit dated June 6, 1975 indicates that 1000 copies were pressed in first run and "orders have been rushed to the pressing plant for 2000 more units".
One of the most remarkable things about Saturday Night Special, the 1975 debut album by the Lyman Woodard Organisation, is how two musicians - accompanied by various sessions drummers - could make such a rich and layered set. It still impresses that Lyman Woodard and Ron English could create so many superbly evocative and cinematic jazz-fusion workouts almost on their own.
Saturday Night Special is certainly a contemporary jazz cult classic album if there ever was one. Merging the heart and soul of Detroit jazz and rhythm & blues while also tossing in a little Latin music, keyboardist Lyman Woodard was at the forefront of defining an instrumental identity for the Motor City on this recording. With top-notch guitarist Ron English, saxophonist Norma Jean Bell, drummer Leonard King, and percussionists Lorenzo Brown and Bud Spangler, Woodard provided solid, head-nodding groove music punctuated by heady, at times spacy jazz improvisation that set the standard for any rival or modern-day jam band. Although he became an organist exclusively, Woodard added Mellotron and electric piano to his arsenal for this date. The muddy production values diminish the overall quality of the sound, but the music itself is undeniably unique, and set apart from the CTI recordings or the fusion music Miles Davis was producing in this mid-'70s time period. The two-part title track is an industrial mythic anthem signifying a steadily streaming automobile production line within a slow, slinky melody via Woodard's various keyboards, flute, and handclaps, a chicken scratch synthesizer insert by the leader, followed by a funky electric bass solo and a jam. "Belle Isle Daze" and "Cheeba" are also dual part pieces, the former a light samba cum boogaloo with Woodard's organ and synth gliding alongside the guitar of English, the latter a straight Latin groove with Woodard's burning B-3 and the percussionists working out in Afro-Cuban fashion. The most beautiful track is "Joy Road," a soul ballad with sighing, serene synth and the lilting alto sax of Bell. King wrote the song of self-determination "Creative Musicians" in a choppy beat as he sings "keep on rollin' right along," while "Allen Barnes," a tribute to Detroit's enduring saxophonist , is a mix of Milestones meeting Jimmy Smith. English, an unsung hero of post-Kenny Burrell guitardom, penned and leads out on the melodies of the commercial tune "On Your Mind" and the more complex "Help Me Get Away," a complex, churning, jazz-oriented piece in 5/4 time that reflects the bop aesthetic of the '50s that brought so many Detroit musicians into prominence. Immediately after Woodard's death in 2009, the Wax Poetics label reissued this recording on limited-edition vinyl, made the tracks and unreleased material available for downloading, and reissued Saturday Night Special on CD. It's a testament not only to the vibrancy of the Detroit scene and what Woodard offered as one of the forefathers of the burgeoning fusion movement, but more importantly, it signifies how local Detroit musicians prevailed against adversity to keep their traditions very much alive and well.
Possibly the best known of Strata’s releases, The Lyman Woodard Organization’s ‘Saturday Night Special’ is rightly heralded as a jazz fusion classic. Recorded in 1975, ‘Saturday Night Special’ features organ, electric piano and Mellotron by bandleader Lyman Woodard
alongside guitar and bass by Ron English, with drums and percussion by Leonard King, Bud Spangler & Lorenzo "Mr. Rhythm" Brown respectively. Despite the fairly sparse instrumentation, ‘Saturday Night Special’ lays down an impressive wall of sound, powerfully atmospheric in its almost low-fi aesthetic. Hinting at more traditional jazz, rhythm & blues, afrocuban styles and more, the uniqueness of this album is surely in its feel: summoning up images of a vast industrial landscape, assembly lines and urban decay. In other words, this record sounds like Detroit.
No great album artwork is complete without a good story to match, and ‘Saturday Night Special’ does not disappoint. Snapped by photographer and political activist Leni Sinclair (responsible for seminal pictures of Miles Davis, Fela Kuti and John Coltrane and many others), the cover image shows the contents of Lyman Woodard’s pockets placed on the hotel bed after a show: cigarette papers, cash and a pistol.
Violin – Halina Lia, Kathie Spratt, Lorraine Periman, Zaida George
In 1975, Detroit native Larry Nozero released Time, an album that would serve as the final chapter in the brief but impactful history of Strata Records, a pioneering independent jazz label rooted in the Motor City’s vibrant musical culture. A multi-instrumentalist renowned for his work on saxophone and flute, Nozero crafted an album that stands as a testament to his creative vision and the freewheeling spirit of 1970s jazz. Far from a conventional jazz record, Time weaves together elements of jazz-funk, soul, and experimental expressionism, creating a dreamlike tapestry of mood and emotion that remains a hidden gem among aficionados. This essay examines the album’s historical context, its musical innovations, and its enduring legacy as a classic of its era.
Strata Records emerged in Detroit during the late 1960s as a musician-led initiative to capture the city’s rich jazz heritage and provide an alternative to mainstream commercial labels. Founded by trumpeter Charles Moore and supported by figures like John Sinclair, the label sought to document the innovative sounds of Detroit’s jazz scene, which often blended traditional jazz with the influences of funk, soul, and the burgeoning Black Arts Movement. By 1975, however, Strata was nearing its end, grappling with financial instability and limited distribution. Time, as the label’s final release, became its swan song—a poignant farewell to a bold experiment in artistic autonomy.
Larry Nozero’s path to Time reflects both his deep ties to Detroit and his eclectic musical experiences. A seasoned performer, Nozero had played with Charles Moore’s Detroit Contemporary 5 before being drafted into the military, where he honed his skills in the Army Band. Upon returning to Detroit, he quickly established himself as a sought-after talent, collaborating with luminaries like Henry Mancini, Sergio Mendes, and even contributing soprano saxophone to Marvin Gaye’s seminal 1971 album What’s Going On. These experiences enriched Nozero’s musical palette, infusing Time with a versatility that sets it apart from many of its contemporaries. Working closely with his cousin Dennis Tini, a keyboardist and vocalist, Nozero approached the album as a passion project, channeling his influences into a work that defies easy categorization.
Time is a nine-track journey that showcases Nozero’s ability to blend diverse styles into a cohesive yet unpredictable whole. The album’s title, as Nozero noted in the original liner notes, emerged from a deep conceptual resonance: “It got so deep that we decided to call the group and our album after that concept of TIME, because it seemed to mean something to just about everyone.” This abstract notion of time permeates the record, with each track offering a distinct emotional landscape open to interpretation.
The album opens with “Reflections of My Past,” a contemplative piece driven by Nozero’s soulful saxophone, setting a reflective tone that contrasts with the brooding melancholy of “Tony,” a track that simmers with understated intensity. The two-part “Chronicle of the Murdered House” introduces a cinematic quality, with wordless scat vocals weaving through Nozero’s reed work, evoking a haunting, narrative-like atmosphere. Meanwhile, “Tune for L.N.,” composed by Dennis Tini, injects a funk-fueled energy, its rhythm-centric groove highlighting the album’s jazz-funk leanings. The record closes with “Baubles, Bangles & Beads,” a buoyant, high-pitched bebop rendition of the jazz standard that leaves listeners with a sense of carefree resolution.
What distinguishes Time is its seamless fusion of styles—funky, soulful, strange, and soothing all at once. Nozero’s mastery of tenor and soprano saxophones and flute, paired with Tini’s inventive use of electric piano, clavinet, and synthesizer, creates a rich sonic texture. The inclusion of strings and percussion further enhances the album’s depth, while the use of wordless vocals adds an avant-garde edge. This experimental spirit aligns Time with the broader trends of 1970s jazz, a period marked by boundary-pushing works from artists like Herbie Hancock and Weather Report, yet its intimate, Detroit-rooted sensibility gives it a unique character.
Upon its release, Time flew under the radar, hampered by Strata’s limited reach and the shifting musical landscape of the mid-1970s, as disco and rock began to dominate popular taste. Original pressings became rare collector’s items, coveted by crate-diggers and jazz enthusiasts for their scarcity and quality. It wasn’t until decades later that the album found a wider audience, thanks to reissues by labels like 180 Proof Records and BBE Music. Remastered from the original reel-to-reel tapes, these releases—often pressed on 180-gram vinyl with restored artwork and extensive liner notes—breathed new life into Nozero’s vision, introducing it to a global audience.
Critics and fans alike have since hailed Time as a classic of 1970s jazz, praising its emotional range and innovative spirit. Its rediscovery aligns with a broader revival of interest in Strata Records, which has come to be seen as a vital chapter in the story of Black American music. For Nozero, who passed away in 2005, the album stands as a crowning achievement—a work that encapsulates his artistry and the creative ferment of Detroit’s jazz scene.
Larry Nozero’s Time is more than just the final release of Strata Records; it is a bold statement of individuality and a snapshot of a transformative moment in jazz history. With its eclectic blend of styles, evocative compositions, and collaborative energy, the album captures the essence of 1975 Detroit—a city pulsing with musical innovation amid economic and cultural upheaval. Today, Time resonates as a rediscovered treasure, its dreamlike quality inviting new generations to experience the depth and beauty of Nozero’s artistry. As its title suggests, the album exists beyond the constraints of its moment, proving that great music, like time itself, endures.
Chorus – AL Mc Cray, Edward Duncan III, Jerome Bell, Wayne Davis
Drums – Stephen A. Walker
Flugelhorn – Phillip Harris
Flute – Wanda P. Robinson
Lead Guitar – Leron Young
Lead Vocals – Wayne Davis
Percussion – Albert Robinson
Piano – Wayne Davis
Synthesizer – Phillip Stancil, Wayne Davis
Tambourine – Wayne Davis
Tenor Saxophone – Clarence "Oscar" Smith, Karlton D. Sloan
Trombone – Greylin Hunter
Trumpet – David Leacraft
A wonderful soul album on the Black Fire label – a hip 70s imprint best known for spiritual jazz – stepping out here on a record that has a lot more vocals than their other releases, but which makes for a mighty nice fit! Wayne Davis is wonderful here – singing with the warmth of a Leroy Hutson at times, and some of the more righteous currents of DJ Rogers at others – often with harmony backings that really elevate the tunes, and a jazzy current in some of the instrumentation that ties things strongly back to the other artists on the Black Fire label! One of those groups, Experience Unlimited, lend their horn section for the record – and Davis himself shows off his deeper musical skills by also handling the piano and keyboards on the record. The whole thing is great
Wayne Davis, a Washington, D.C.-born vocalist and keyboardist, had already made waves with his 1973 Atlantic Records debut, A View From Another Place, produced by his mentor Roberta Flack. After Atlantic dropped him, Davis found a new home at Black Fire Records, an independent label founded by Jimmy Gray in Richmond, Virginia. Known for its Afrocentric soul-jazz catalog—including Oneness of Juju and Theatre West—Black Fire offered Davis the freedom to craft a deeply personal follow-up. Recorded at Bias Studios in Falls Church, Virginia, and produced by Jimmy Watkins and studio manager Bob Dawson, Wayne Davis features a stellar lineup: poet-flautist Wanda Robinson, Experience Unlimited’s horn section (pre-go-go fame), and Davis himself on keys and vocals.
Released in 1976, the album arrived during a fertile period for Black music, bridging gospel’s emotional heft with soul’s groove and jazz’s improvisational spirit. Yet, like many Black Fire projects, it faced distribution woes and remained obscure until its limited 1990s CD release and the 2022 Strut reissue, which included remastered audio and new liner notes. Davis’s journey—from D.C.’s gospel scene to Atlantic’s polish to Black Fire’s raw independence—infuses the album with a searching, triumphant energy.
Wayne Davis spans nine tracks across roughly 40 minutes, weaving gospel fervor with soulful grooves and subtle jazz flourishes. Here’s a detailed breakdown:
"Strive On and Be Strong" (4:34)
The opener bursts forth with a funky gospel charge, Davis’s voice soaring over a driving bassline and crisp drums. Horns punctuate the mix, courtesy of Experience Unlimited’s section, while the lyrics urge resilience—a fitting kickoff that blends spiritual uplift with danceable grit. It’s raw and immediate, setting a tone of unwavering conviction.
"Morning" (4:33)
A standout, “Morning” is a sublime gospel-soul ballad. Davis’s tender, raspy delivery evokes sunrise serenity, backed by delicate piano and a gentle rhythm section. The track’s simplicity amplifies its emotional weight—fans liken it to T.L. Barrett’s ecstatic reverence, though Davis keeps it earthbound and intimate. A quiet masterpiece.
"Love Is" (4:00)
This mid-tempo soul cut shifts to romance, with Davis crooning over a warm, organ-laced groove. Wanda Robinson’s flute adds an ethereal touch, elevating the track beyond standard fare. It’s smooth yet heartfelt, balancing the album’s heavier themes with a lighter, lovestruck vibe.
"The Garden (There Is a Garden, Far Away)" (4:14)
A meditative piece, “The Garden” conjures a utopian vision through Davis’s layered vocals and minimal instrumentation. The flute and soft percussion create a dreamlike haze, while the lyrics hint at escape or transcendence. It’s a breather that leans into spiritual jazz territory.
"Look at the People!" (5:11)
The album’s centerpiece is a rousing funk-gospel anthem. Davis’s call-and-response vocals—backed by a tight horn riff and pulsating bass—ignite a communal fire. The energy is infectious, with a raw, live-band feel that’s become a crate-digger favorite (Mr. Scruff called it one of his top tunes). It’s a celebration of collective strength, pure and unfiltered.
"Dawn of a New Day" (5:00)
Another gospel-soul gem, this track opens with a funky groove before settling into a reflective stride. Davis’s voice carries a weary hope, mirrored by the band’s dynamic shifts—quiet verses exploding into triumphant choruses. The horns and keys shine, making it a sibling to “Morning” with a bolder edge.
" Things Seem Just Right, Now!" (4:11)
A breezy, optimistic number, this track rides a light funk rhythm with upbeat horns and Davis’s playful phrasing. It’s less weighty than others but adds a carefree moment, showcasing his versatility and the band’s chemistry.
"Intermezzo / Bahjia Habiba" (2:47)
A short, jazzy interlude, this segues into a flute-driven meditation with Robinson’s airy touch. It’s an experimental detour—sparse and atmospheric—that nods to Black Fire’s adventurous streak, though it feels more like a transition than a standalone statement.
One Last Thing!" (5:01)
The closer is a soulful farewell, blending gospel intensity with a jazzy outro. Davis’s vocals build to a fervent peak, backed by swirling horns and percussion, before fading into a reflective jam. It’s a powerful capstone, leaving you both satisfied and curious for more.
Wayne Davis excels in its authenticity and emotional range. Davis’s voice—gravelly yet soulful—anchors every track, channeling gospel’s fire into secular grooves. The band’s interplay is organic, with horns, flute, and rhythm section locking into a cohesive, live-wire sound. Tracks like “Look at the People!” and “Morning” are timeless, marrying spiritual depth with musical hooks. Black Fire’s DIY ethos shines through, giving the album a rugged charm that contrasts with the polish of A View From Another Place.
That said, it’s not flawless. The production, while clear, lacks the low-end punch of bigger-budget soul records—modern listeners might crave more bass heft (a limitation the 2022 remaster improves but doesn’t fully fix). Some tracks, like “Intermezzo / Bahjia Habiba,” feel underdeveloped, serving more as mood pieces than fully realized songs. The album’s brevity and uneven pacing—intense highs followed by abrupt shifts—might also leave you wanting a longer, more cohesive arc.
Though initially overlooked, Wayne Davis has grown into a cult classic. Its 2022 reissue sparked renewed interest, with DJs and collectors hailing “Look at the People!” as a dancefloor revelation. Davis’s later work with Experience Unlimited (Free Yourself, 1977) and his broader D.C. soul legacy tie it to a vibrant scene, while its gospel-soul fusion prefigures artists like Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On era or even D’Angelo’s rawer moments. Black Fire’s catalog—bolstered by this release—stands as a pillar of independent Black music, and Davis’s contribution is a cornerstone.
The album’s rediscovery owes much to Strut’s efforts, which paired pristine transfers from Bob Dawson’s tapes with Muzi Branch’s original artwork. It’s a bridge between Davis’s Atlantic polish and Black Fire’s grassroots soul, offering a snapshot of an artist in transition—unshackled and unafraid.
Wayne Davis is a raw, radiant gem—imperfect but brimming with heart. Its gospel-soul core, spiked with funk and jazz, captures a man and a movement at their most inspired. Tracks like “Morning” and “Look at the People!” are revelatory, while the album as a whole feels like a lost sermon from a bygone era, preached with grit and grace. For fans of spiritual soul, rare grooves, or Black Fire’s legacy, it’s essential listening.
04. I Like The Things About Me That I Once Despised 4:46
05. Somebody's Watching You 4:26
06. I Love You So 6:05
07. Joel 2-28 11:04
Bass – Jerry Jemmott
Drums – Bernard Purdie
Piano, Vocals – Wayne Davis
Vocals - Eugene McDaniels
Vocals - Rpberta Flack
Producer – Roberta Flack
An overlooked gem from early 70s Atlantic Records – a set from singer/pianist Wayne Davis – who was brought to the label by Roberta Flack, who also handled most of the arrangements! Davis is a lot like Flack at this early point in her career – a unique talent with a style that's all his own – somewhere in a space between soul and jazz, but deeply personal, and never content to just try to hang on anyone else's expectations! That individuality is what really makes the record great – and which also, since Davis never got the hit status as Flack, has also made it a bit hard to peg by the larger music market – who've maybe helped keep the set buried a bit over the course of time. Many of the tunes have this sort of gentle flow that's a bit like Robert's first two Atlantic albums – but a few more have some of the quirkier approach to arrangements that you'll find in Eugene McDaniel's work for the label – no surprise, maybe, as McDaniels helps out on one track. Flack also sings and plays a bit of keyboards
A View From Another Place thrives on Davis’s individuality. His voice—soulful yet distinctive—carries a gospel authenticity that grounds even the album’s weirder moments. Flack’s production and arrangements bring a cohesive warmth, balancing Davis’s quirks with accessibility. Tracks like “How’s Mama’s Baby” and “Joel 2:28” showcase a fearless range, from quiet vulnerability to ecstatic experimentation, while the band’s pedigree ensures every note hits hard. Yet the album falters in consistency. “Somebody’s Watching You” feels like a safe detour, and “I Love You So” teeters on overly sentimental. The production, while clean, lacks the punch of contemporaries like Stevie Wonder’s Innervisions (also 1973)—the bass can feel muted, and the mix doesn’t always pop on modern systems. Its eclecticism might’ve also confused 1970s audiences expecting straight soul or jazz, contributing to its commercial flop.
Post-Atlantic, Davis landed at Black Fire Records, releasing his self-titled 1976 album—a funkier, gospel-soul affair reissued by Strut in 2022. But A View From Another Place remains his most personal statement. It’s a cult favorite among soul and jazz aficionados, praised by outlets like Dusty Groove for its “deeply personal” vibe and “quirky” charm. Its scarcity—original vinyl fetches high prices—adds to its allure, though digital availability has broadened its reach.
The album’s influence is subtle but real. You can hear echoes of its introspective soul in later artists like D’Angelo or Maxwell, and its spiritual bent aligns with the Black Fire ethos Davis later embraced. Flack’s involvement ties it to her early-’70s peak, a bridge between her Atlantic work and the broader soul-jazz movement.
Final Verdict
A View From Another Place is a beautiful oddity—a soul album that’s too quirky to be mainstream, too heartfelt to be ignored. Davis’s voice and vision, paired with Flack’s nuanced touch, make it a rewarding listen for those willing to dig beneath the surface. It’s not a perfect record, but its highs—“How’s Mama’s Baby,” “Joel 2:28”—are transcendent, and its lows are still intriguing. For fans of early-’70s soul, jazz crossovers, or Flack’s orbit, it’s a must-hear!
13. Man Of Many Means (Previously Unreleased) 5:04
14. Cool Out Your Mind 6:20
On sticker : First vinyl issue of Dayton, Ohio theatre company Theatre West's revered album for Black Fire from 1976, featuring songs from their shows "Black Love", "The System" and "Bow To The People". Features previously unreleased track "Man Of Many Means". Package includes rare photos and new liner notes by bassist Sigmund Dillard.
Alto Saxophone – Herbert Nelson
Drums – Sam Carter
Electric Bass – Sigmond Dillard
Vocals, Piano – Clarence Young III
Trumpet, Piano, Vocals – Delbert Taylor
Vibraphone – Ben Wilson
Vocals – Beneda Brown, Bobby Collins, Bruce Anthony Davis, Carl Payne
Theatre West was founded in 1969 by Clarence Young III, a Vietnam War veteran who had performed in a theatrical troupe for the U.S. Air Force across 15 countries. Returning to Dayton, Young established the group as a creative outlet for inner-city youth, blending music, dance, and drama to address Black experiences in America. By 1971, Young’s plays like Perry’s Mission and The System earned national attention off-Broadway, portraying Black life with raw honesty—sometimes likening it to a penitentiary. At its peak, Theatre West boasted around 27 members, a versatile ensemble where everyone sang, danced, and acted, fostering a tight-knit, collaborative spirit.
Young became widely respected as a playwright and 1971 was a breakthrough year as he received national accolades for his off-Broadway plays Perry’s Mission and The System, portraying black lives in America as life in a penitentiary. At its height, Theatre West involved around 27 members. “Everybody played everything and did everything,” recalls bassist Sigmond Dillard. “We all had to sing, dance and act all the time. If someone messed up, you came in. It was a tight unit and we were constantly helping each other out.”
“There were so many talented and gifted people in our troupe,” continues Dillard. “Rita Brown went on to New York, starring in the film Disco Godfather during the late ‘70s. Bruce Davis went on to work regularly on Broadway in Chicago, All That Jazz and more. Our Musical Director was Delbert Taylor and he also played with Gil Scott Heron’s Midnight Band and with Slave afterwards in the early ‘80s. Vibes player Ben Wilson and I also played regularly with Gil.”
In 1976, Theatre West recorded Bow to the People at Arrest Studios in Washington, D.C., under the musical direction of Delbert Taylor (later of Gil Scott-Heron’s Midnight Band and Slave). The album drew from their plays—Bow to the People, The System, and Black Love—and tackled heavy themes like drug addiction, mental health, and cultural pride. Produced for Jimmy Gray’s Black Fire Records, a Richmond, Virginia-based label known for its soul-jazz and Afrocentric output (e.g., Oneness of Juju), the project was shelved after recording. It surfaced only in 1993 as a limited CD release, with its first full vinyl and international reissue arriving in 2021 via Strut Records, complete with bonus tracks and remastered sound
Bow to the People is a 15-track journey (on the 2021 reissue) spanning roughly 70 minutes, showcasing Theatre West’s range from funky grooves to introspective ballads. Here’s a breakdown of key tracks and overall flow:
"Searching for Ourselves" (3:42)
The opener sets a soulful tone with lush harmonies and a mellow groove. Driven by piano and subtle percussion, it’s a reflective call to self-discovery, balancing accessibility with emotional depth. A strong start that hints at the group’s theatrical roots.
"Crossroads" (7:22)
A sprawling jazz-funk epic, this track stretches out with intricate instrumentation—vibes from Ben Wilson, bass from Sigmond Dillard, and soaring horns. Its extended runtime allows for improvisation, evoking the live energy of their stage shows. The mood is contemplative yet urgent, a highlight for jazz heads.
"Bow to the People" (3:04)
The title track is a concise, upbeat tribute to Black ancestors, as bassist Dillard later explained: “It was to honor our Black forefathers for the kids who didn’t know.” With punchy horns and a driving rhythm, it’s a rallying cry wrapped in a danceable package—short but impactful.
"Black Love" (6:57)
A centerpiece of the album, this slow-burning soul number radiates warmth and resilience. The vocals, likely led by Young and ensemble members, weave a tapestry of pride and struggle, backed by a hypnotic bassline and atmospheric keys. It’s a love letter to community, steeped in feeling.
"One Little Chance" (2:57)
A breezy, optimistic soul cut, this track offers a lighter moment. Its catchy melody and tight arrangement make it radio-friendly, though its brevity leaves you wanting more development.
"Big Brother" (5:10)
Funk takes the wheel here, with a gritty edge that nods to surveillance and control—possibly a nod to The System. The rhythm section locks in, while horns stab through the mix. It’s funky and paranoid in equal measure.
"Children of Tomorrow’s Dreams" (4:05)
An uplifting anthem for the next generation, this track blends gospel-tinged vocals with a buoyant groove. It’s hopeful without being saccharine, a testament to the group’s focus on youth empowerment.
"No More Junk" (4:08)
Addressing drug addiction head-on, this funk-driven cut pairs a serious message with a head-nodding beat. The lyrics cut deep, reflecting the troupe’s unflinching look at social issues, while the music keeps it moving.
"Della Get Down" (4:58)
A dancefloor filler, this track brings pure funk energy. Its playful vibe and tight interplay—drums, bass, and horns in sync—make it a standout for groove lovers, though it’s lighter on thematic weight.
"I Am a Woman" (5:10)
A powerful soul ballad, this celebrates Black womanhood with grace and strength. The vocals shine, supported by minimal yet effective instrumentation, making it a quiet storm classic in waiting.
"I Really Like It" (4:00)
Another funky, upbeat number, this feels like a crowd-pleaser from their live sets. It’s catchy and well-executed but doesn’t push boundaries like earlier tracks.
"Puppet" (6:14)
A moody, mid-tempo groove with a theatrical flair, this explores manipulation and agency. The arrangement builds tension, with vibes and percussion adding texture—another nod to their stagecraft.
"Cool Out Your Mind" (6:20)
A laid-back closer (on the original sequence), this jazz-soul hybrid offers a meditative vibe. It’s a cool-down after the album’s intensity, with smooth vocals and a relaxed tempo.
"Man of Many Means" (5:04, Previously Unreleased)
A 2021 bonus track, this funky cut showcases the group’s versatility. It’s a welcome addition, with a slinky bassline and confident horns suggesting untapped potential in the vaults.
"I Don’t Know Much About Love" (2:50, Previously Unreleased)
The final bonus track is a tender soul ballad, simple yet affecting. It rounds out the reissue with a personal touch, though it’s more a footnote than a revelation.
Bow to the People excels in its authenticity and versatility. The ensemble’s theater background infuses the music with dramatic flair and narrative depth, while their multi-instrumental chops—honed through constant role-switching—shine in the tight arrangements. Tracks like “Crossroads” and “Black Love” marry musical sophistication with raw emotion, and the social commentary feels urgent yet timeless. The production, while modest, captures their live chemistry effectively.
However, the album isn’t flawless. Some tracks, like “I Really Like It,” lean too heavily on groove without much substance, and the sequencing can feel uneven—high-energy funk sits awkwardly next to slower cuts. The 1976 recording lacks the sonic heft of modern reissues, with a thin low end that might disappoint bass enthusiasts (a limitation the 2021 remaster mitigates but doesn’t fully resolve). Its original shelving also hints at a lack of polish or commercial focus, which might have held it back in its era.
Though unreleased until 1993, Bow to the People has grown into a cult classic, bolstered by its 2021 reissue with unseen photos and notes from Dillard. It stands alongside Black Fire’s best—like Oneness of Juju’s African Rhythms—as a testament to the label’s mission of cultural expression. Theatre West’s members left their mark elsewhere: Taylor joined Slave, Dillard and Wilson played with Gil Scott-Heron, and Bruce Davis hit Broadway. The album’s rediscovery highlights its ahead-of-its-time blend of funk, soul, and theater, resonating with today’s crate-diggers and socially conscious listeners alike.
Bow to the People is a vibrant, soul-stirring snapshot of a talented collective at a creative crossroads. It’s not a polished blockbuster but a raw, heartfelt artifact—equal parts funky celebration and poignant reflection. For fans of jazz-funk, spiritual soul, or Black Fire’s legacy, it’s a must-listen, brimming with energy and purpose.
A sweet bit of spiritual jazz from the legendary Black Fire scene -- the only record ever cut by this group, but a set that stands up strongly next to the label's famous work by Oneness Of Juju!! Southern Energy Ensemble were one of the super-hip combos on the righteous side of the DC scene of the 70s -- and they effortlessly mix together jazz, funk, soul, and Afro-styled rhythms -- in a style that was light years ahead of its time, and finally getting full exposure years later. If you need a reference point, think Earth Wind & Fire in their best spiritual early years -- but also imagine a looser, freer approach to the music -- the currents of Oneness Of Juju too.
Black Fire Records was founded in the mid-1970s by DJ and producer Jimmy Gray in Richmond, Virginia. Emerging during a time when Black-owned independent labels like Strata-East and Tribe were carving out spaces for creative autonomy, Black Fire became a hub for soul, jazz, and funk artists who blended musical innovation with cultural consciousness. The label’s ethos was rooted in celebrating Black identity, community, and positive messaging, often infused with African rhythms and spiritual undertones. Gray’s vision gained momentum when saxophonist James “Plunky” Branch returned to Richmond from New York and formed Oneness of Juju, whose 1975 album African Rhythms set a high bar for the label’s output. Black Fire would go on to release works by artists like Wayne Davis, Experience Unlimited, and Lon Moshe, though financial and personal challenges often delayed or shelved projects, leaving many recordings—like Southern Energy—unreleased for years. The label operated from 1975 to 1993, and its catalog has since been rediscovered and celebrated for its forward-thinking sound and historical significance.
The Southern Energy Ensemble was a short-lived but dynamic R&B and jazz collective led by trumpeter Marvin “Dash” Daniels, a Virginia State College alumnus who had previously played with the military touring band 100% Pure Poison while stationed in Germany. Upon returning to college, Daniels teamed up with saxophonist Al Clarke and assembled a group of talented student musicians, including Nat Lee on keyboards, William “Spike” Johnson on drums, Adolphus “Peddie” Maples on percussion and vocals, and vocalists Judy Spears and Garrie Wayne. The band honed their craft on the “chitlin circuit”—a network of Black venues across the South—performing at clubs, universities, and military bases in Virginia and the Carolinas. Their sound fused the raw energy of Southern funk with the sophistication of jazz, reflecting both their youthful exuberance and musical training.
In 1977, after Daniels met Plunky Branch and Jimmy Gray at a JuJu concert in Richmond, Black Fire signed the group. They recorded Southern Energy at Bias Recording Studio in Falls Church, Virginia, capturing a set of high-energy sessions. However, the album was shelved after recording, and the band disbanded as members graduated and pursued other paths. It wasn’t until 1993 that Black Fire released Southern Energy in limited CD and LP formats, making it a rare find until its first full international reissue by Strut Records in 2021, remastered from the original tapes.
Southern Energy is a seven-track album that balances gritty funk, soulful ballads, and danceable jazz, all underpinned by a message of positivity and community celebration. Clocking in at just over 35 minutes, it’s a concise yet impactful statement from a group of young artists at the peak of their creative synergy. Below is a track-by-track analysis:
"Open Your Mind" (4:00)
The album kicks off with a rolling jazz-dance number that sets the tone for what’s to come. Judy Spears and Garrie Wayne’s harmonious vocals glide over a bed of acoustic and electric pianos, courtesy of Nat Lee, while Daniels’ trumpet adds bright, melodic flourishes. The rhythm section—Spike Johnson’s shimmering cymbals and rapid drumrolls paired with a funky bassline—creates a syncopated groove that’s both infectious and sophisticated. It’s an invitation to let go and embrace the journey, perfectly embodying the album’s optimistic spirit.
"F-U-N-K-Y 'Til the Day I Die" (4:37)
This track is the album’s funk anthem, a raucous celebration of groove and attitude. The title alone promises unapologetic energy, and it delivers with a clavinet-driven riff, slick drumming, and a bassline that demands movement. The ensemble’s tight interplay shines here, with horns punctuating the rhythm and vocals adding playful swagger. It’s the kind of track that could ignite a dance floor or a late-night jam session, evoking the stank-face-inducing funk of bands like Parliament or The Meters, but with a distinctly Southern flair.
"Third House" (7:00)
A standout piece, “Third House” is a spiritual jazz workout that stretches out over seven minutes. It opens with intricate conga and shekere work from Adolphus Maples, grounding the track in African rhythmic traditions. The mood shifts as electric pianos and synthesizers enter, blending the tribal with the futuristic—a hallmark of Black Fire’s forward-thinking aesthetic. Daniels’ trumpet soars over the polyrhythmic foundation, while the band locks into a hypnotic groove. It’s danceable yet meditative, making it a bridge between the album’s funkier cuts and its deeper, reflective moments.
"Looking Ahead" (3:26)
This soulful ballad offers a breather, showcasing the vocal prowess of Spears and Wayne. Backed by gentle piano chords and a restrained rhythm section, the track radiates hope and introspection. It’s a concise, tender moment that contrasts with the album’s high-energy peaks, highlighting the ensemble’s versatility and emotional range. The lyrics, though simple, reinforce the album’s theme of positivity, making it a quiet gem.
"See Funk" (6:06)
Returning to the dance floor, “See Funk” is a mid-tempo jazz-funk cut with a loose, exploratory vibe. The horns take center stage, weaving intricate lines over a steady groove. The track’s extended runtime allows for some improvisation, giving the musicians room to flex their chops. While not as immediately hooky as “F-U-N-K-Y,” it’s a solid showcase of the band’s technical skill and chemistry, though it occasionally feels like it’s searching for a stronger melodic anchor.
"Energy" (6:14)
True to its name, this track pulses with vitality. It’s a fusion of jazz and funk, driven by a relentless rhythm section and layered with atmospheric synths and horn stabs. The arrangement builds dynamically, with moments of tension and release that keep the listener engaged. It’s less structured than some of the earlier tracks, leaning into a jam-like feel that captures the band’s live energy—an apt reflection of their weekend gigging days.
"The Best Part of Me / Southern Energy" (4:33)
The album closes with a two-part finale that ties its themes together. “The Best Part of Me” is a soulful reflection, with warm vocals and a mellow groove, before transitioning into “Southern Energy,” an upbeat coda that reprises the band’s signature sound. It’s a fitting send-off, blending introspection with celebration, and leaves you wanting more from this short-lived ensemble.
Southern Energy shines in its cohesion and authenticity. The band’s tightness—remarkable for a group of mostly college students—is evident in every track, a testament to their time on the chitlin circuit. The album’s diversity, spanning funk, jazz, and soul, keeps it engaging, while its positive messaging feels genuine rather than preachy. Daniels’ trumpet work is a consistent highlight, adding both flair and depth, and the rhythm section provides a rock-solid foundation.
That said, the album isn’t without flaws. Some tracks, like “See Funk,” could benefit from sharper hooks or more defined structure, and the production—while clean for its time—lacks the low-end punch modern listeners might expect from funk-heavy records (a trait noted in reissue reviews, possibly due to the original recording). Its brevity also leaves you wishing the band had more time to stretch out and explore their ideas further.
Though Southern Energy didn’t see the light of day until 1993, its rediscovery has cemented its status as a lost classic. It sits comfortably alongside Black Fire’s more celebrated releases, like Oneness of Juju’s work, sharing a similar blend of groove and consciousness. The ensemble’s members went on to notable careers—Daniels co-founded the Chops Horns, working with artists like The Police and Sugarhill Gang, while Maples contributed to Oneness of Juju sessions—proving their talent outlasted the band’s brief run.
The 2021 Strut reissue, with its remastered sound, unseen photos, and sleeve notes from Daniels, has brought Southern Energy to a wider audience, affirming its place in the jazz-funk canon. It’s not just a relic of 1977 but a timeless snapshot of young Black musicians channeling their roots and aspirations into something vibrant and enduring.
Southern Energy is a joyous, soul-stirring listen that captures the essence of its creators: tight, talented, and brimming with potential. It’s a must-hear for fans of jazz-funk, spiritual jazz, or anyone curious about the rich legacy of Black Fire Records. While it may not have the polish of bigger-budget contemporaries, its raw energy and heart make it a standout—a Southern-fried treasure finally getting its due.
