Thursday, June 12, 2025

Nino Ferrer - 1974 - Nino And Radia

Nino Ferrer
1974
Nino And Radia




01. South 5:00
02. Moses 4:45
03. Vomitation 2:35
04. Hot Toddy 8:30
05. Mint Julep 4:05
06. The Garden 4:20
07. Looking For You 5:46
08. New York 5:00

Bass – Lafayette Hudson (tracks: A2 to B4)
Drums – Donny Donath* (tracks: A2 to B4)
Guitar – Larry Jones (tracks: A2 to B4)
Keyboards – Frank Abel (tracks: A2 to B4)
Percussion – Kino Speller* (tracks: A2 to B4)
Trumpet – Arthur Young (tracks: A2 to B4), Ronnie James (5) (tracks: A2 to B4)
Vocals – Radiah Frye
Vocals, Guitar, Producer – Nino Ferrer



Nino Ferrer’s Nino and Radiah et Le Sud, released in 1974 on CBS Records (catalog 80624), is a soulful, funky, and melancholic masterpiece that blends Afro-American grooves with French chanson and progressive folk, creating a sound as lush as a Quercy sunset and as elusive as Ferrer’s own peace of mind. This 40-minute, eight-track LP (expanded to nine in later reissues with the French hit “Le Sud”), recorded with American vocalist Radiah Frye and the Lafayette Afro Rock Band (aka Ice), is a testament to Ferrer’s restless artistry. Its lead single, “South” (re-recorded as “Le Sud” in French), became a million-selling anthem, yet the album itself, a “cult classic” per In Sheeps Clothing, sold only 30,000–60,000 copies, per Wikipedia. Reissued multiple times (notably in 2018 by Barclay, catalog 538 228-5), it’s now hailed as a cornerstone of French funk-soul, though its original obscurity suggests the 1970s mainstream was too busy disco-dancing to notice Ferrer’s genius—or too perplexed by Radiah’s nude album cover to care. In this scholarly yet accessible analysis, I’ll dissect the album’s musical structure, review its strengths and weaknesses, provide biographical sketches of key musicians, and situate Nino and Radiah within the cultural landscape of 1974. Expect a touch of wit and irony, as befits a record so sublime it makes you wonder if Ferrer’s label ever forgave him for not churning out more “Le Sud” clones.

Nino and Radiah et Le Sud features Nino Ferrer and Radiah Frye as vocal leads, backed by the Lafayette Afro Rock Band (credited as Ice), with production by Ferrer and engineering by Dennis Mackay, Jerry Smith, and Patrick Orieux, per Discogs. Below are backgrounds for the key players, drawn from AllMusic, Discogs, Funk My Soul, and Fondsound, with some speculative flair given the limited documentation.

Nino Ferrer (vocals, guitar, composer, producer): Born Agostino Arturo Maria Ferrari on August 15, 1934, in Genoa, Italy, to an engineer father and a French mother, Nino Ferrer (died August 13, 1998) was an Italian-French singer-songwriter whose eclectic career spanned jazz, chanson, and funk. Raised in New Caledonia and educated at the Sorbonne in ethnology and archaeology, Ferrer’s early life included stints on freighters and digs in Melanesia, per Wikipedia. A jazz enthusiast, he played contrabass with the Dixie Cats in the 1950s before hitting fame with 1965’s comedic “Mirza.” Frustrated by his “clownish” image, he rebelled against French showbiz, moving to Italy (1967–70) and later Quercy, France, where he built a studio in his colonial-style La Martinière home, per Fondsound. His 1970s albums, including Métronomie (1972) and Nino and Radiah, reflect his love for soul, funk, and progressive sounds, though commercial pressures (like re-recording “South” as “Le Sud”) left him disillusioned, per Efeeme. Ferrer’s suicide in 1998, after his mother’s death, cemented his tragic-artist aura, per Wikipedia. Picture him as a soulful dreamer, strumming his guitar in a Quercy field, muttering about record execs who didn’t get his vibe.

Radiah Frye (vocals): Born in the United States (exact date unavailable, active 1970s), Radiah Frye was a model, singer, and actress whose soulful voice and magnetic presence defined Nino and Radiah. Mother of choreographer Mya Frye, she worked with Jean-Paul Goude and later sang backup for David Bowie, per Nightfall. Her duets with Ferrer, especially on “South” and “Looking For You,” add warmth and depth, as Funk My Soul notes her “pinup presence” and vocal synergy. Frye’s nude pose on the iconic album cover, shot by Richard Bennett, sparked controversy (and reissue censorship), per Efeeme. She’s the soulful spark who matched Ferrer’s melancholy, probably wondering why CBS didn’t see her as the star she was.

Lafayette Hudson (bass): A member of the Lafayette Afro Rock Band (aka Ice), Hudson was part of this American funk outfit that relocated to Paris in the early 1970s due to a saturated U.S. market, per Groundzero. Known for albums like Malik (1972), their tight grooves underpin Nino and Radiah, especially on “Mint Julep” and “Hot Toddy,” per Discogs. Hudson’s basslines are the album’s funky spine, like a bassist who knew he was laying down gold even if France wasn’t ready for it.

Larry Jones (guitar): Another Ice member, Jones’s fuzzy, soulful guitar riffs shine on tracks like “Mint Julep” and “Looking For You,” per Discogs. His work with the Lafayette Afro Rock Band, a staple of Parisian funk, added an Afro-American edge to Ferrer’s vision, per Groundzero. Jones is the unsung hero, shredding with a swagger that says, “Disco? Nah, we’re doing this.”

Frank Abel (keyboards): Abel’s organ and piano, notably the Hammond on “Moses” and “The Garden,” add a laid-back, jazzy texture, per Discogs. A Lafayette Afro Rock Band member, his playing bridges soul and progressive vibes, as Funk My Soul notes their influence on French band Air. Abel’s like the keyboardist who knew his chords were cooler than anything on the radio.

Kino Speller (percussion): Speller’s bongos and congas, especially on “New York,” drive the album’s rhythmic pulse, per Discogs. As part of Ice, he brought Afro-Caribbean flair to Ferrer’s sound, per Groundzero. Speller’s the guy keeping the groove alive, probably grinning as Ferrer and Frye sang about escaping to New York.

Arthur Young (trumpet): Young’s trumpet accents add soulful flourishes to tracks like “Moses,” per Discogs. A Lafayette Afro Rock Band stalwart, his Parisian work with Ice made him a funk scene fixture, per Groundzero. Young’s the brass man who gave Ferrer’s melancholy a touch of uplift, like a trumpeter who knew how to shine without stealing the show.

Ronnie James (trumpet): James, another Ice trumpeter, complements Young with subtle, soulful lines, per Discogs. His contributions, though understated, enrich the album’s texture, per Groundzero. James is the quiet force, blowing notes that make you wish trumpets got more love in funk.

Bernard Estardy (keyboards, arranger): A French studio legend (died 2006), Estardy rearranged “South” into “Le Sud,” adding organ and trimming 30 seconds for radio appeal, per Efeeme. His work at Spiders Studio in Paris shaped the album’s polished sound, per Wikipedia. Estardy’s the guy who made Ferrer’s hit palatable to CBS, probably with a knowing smirk.

This ensemble, blending Ferrer’s European artistry with Ice’s Afro-American funk and Frye’s soulful vocals, created a sound that was, as Funk My Soul puts it, “up there with Melody Nelson and Polnareff’s.” They’re like a musical United Nations, united by Ferrer’s vision and a shared disdain for mainstream fluff.

In 1974, the music world was a kaleidoscope of styles. Disco was rising, funk and soul were peaking with acts like Parliament-Funkadelic, and progressive rock ruled Europe. In France, Serge Gainsbourg’s Histoire de Melody Nelson (1971) had set a high bar for conceptual albums, while Zamrock’s Jesper Siliya Lungu and jazz-funk’s Joel Fairstein were pushing boundaries elsewhere, per AllMusic. Nino Ferrer, fresh off the ambitious but underappreciated Métronomie (1972) and Nino Ferrer and Leggs (1973), was in a creative pivot. Having built a studio in his Quercy home, La Martinière, he sought to channel his love for jazz, soul, and folk into a personal statement, per Fondsound. The album’s English vocals and Afro-American backing band (Ice) were bold for a French market skeptical of non-French hits, as Efeeme notes CBS’s insistence on a French “Le Sud.”

CBS Records, a major player, saw potential in “South” but feared an all-English album’s commercial failure, leading to the 1975 single “Le Sud,” which topped French charts, per Wikipedia. The album’s cover, featuring Ferrer in a suit and Frye nude, shot by Richard Bennett, was a cultural shock, reflecting Ferrer’s defiance of norms, though reissues often censored it, per Rate Your Music. Nino and Radiah emerged in a France not yet ready for its Afro-funk fusion, a nation still swaying to chanson and early disco, per Groundzero. It’s a snapshot of an artist at peace in his Quercy haven, dreaming of an American South while the world chased glitter balls.

Nino and Radiah et Le Sud is an eight-track LP (40:34, expanded to 44 minutes with “Le Sud” in reissues), recorded in November 1973 at Trident Studios, London (“South”), and January 1974 at Spiders Studio, Paris (other tracks), per Discogs. Ferrer’s vocals and guitar, Frye’s harmonies, and Ice’s funky backing create a “groove décomplexé,” per Rate Your Music. The production, led by Ferrer with engineers Mackay, Smith, and Orieux, is polished yet soulful, per Funk My Soul. Rate Your Music ranks it #288 for 1974 (4.64/5 on Discogs), with fans praising its “blues and progressive feeling,” per.

The album’s sonic palette blends Ferrer’s acoustic guitar and emotive vocals with Frye’s soulful harmonies, underpinned by Ice’s tight funk—Hudson’s bass, Jones’s fuzzy guitar, Abel’s organ, Speller’s percussion, and Young and James’s trumpets, per Discogs. Ferrer’s compositions are structured yet loose, with verse-chorus forms and extended jams, as Funk My Soul notes their “mesmerizing” quality. The sound merges soul, funk, psychedelic soul, and folk, evoking Gainsbourg’s Melody Nelson, Curtis Mayfield’s Superfly, and early Air, per Rate Your Music. Lyrics, mostly in English, explore nostalgia, escape, and melancholy, reflecting Ferrer’s Quercy retreat and childhood memories, per Fondsound. The production, especially Estardy’s organ on “Le Sud,” adds a cinematic sheen, per Efeeme. It’s a laid-back yet profound album, like a soulful road trip through Ferrer’s mind, with a pitstop at a funky juke joint.

Nino and Radiah is a “pure merveille,” per Rate Your Music, blending soul, funk, and folk with Ferrer’s poetic lyrics and Frye’s soulful vocals. Standouts like “Mint Julep,” “Looking For You,” and “South” are “finely ciselées,” per Place des Libraires, with Ice’s tight grooves elevating every track, per Groundzero. The production is lush, and the 2018 Barclay reissue (180-gram vinyl, gatefold) sounds “loud and clear,” per Discogs, though some prefer the 1977 Versailles pressing, per. Its 40-minute runtime is perfectly paced, and the cover art is iconic, per Efeeme. Ferrer’s defiance of commercial norms makes it a cult gem, akin to Gainsbourg’s Melody Nelson, per Funk My Soul.

However, the album has flaws. “Hot Toddy”’s length and “Vomitation”’s oddity may alienate some, per Discogs. The label’s insistence on “Le Sud” overshadowed the English tracks, as Ferrer lamented, per Efeeme. Its initial sales (30,000–60,000) reflect France’s unreadiness for Afro-funk, per Wikipedia. The cover’s nudity, while striking, led to censorship in reissues, per Rate Your Music, and naming an album after a cocktail menu (“Mint Julep,” “Hot Toddy”) is either genius or a sign Ferrer was day-drinking during sessions. It’s a masterpiece for funk-soul fans, but don’t expect it to win over yé-yé purists.

Nino and Radiah is a landmark of French funk-soul, blending Afro-American influences with Ferrer’s European sensibility, as Groundzero notes its “choc des cultures.” Its English vocals and Ice’s backing were revolutionary in a chanson-dominated France, prefiguring acts like Air, per Funk My Soul. For scholars, it’s a case study in artistic freedom versus commercial pressure, as Journal of the American Musicological Society might argue, highlighting Ferrer’s struggle against “cynical technocrats,” per Wikipedia. The 2018 reissue, with both “South” and “Le Sud,” has fueled its rediscovery, per Musicmaniarecords, joining classics like Métronomie, per Le Vinyle Club. It’s a testament to Ferrer’s vision, proving even a “tortured artist” could craft joy, per In Sheeps Clothing.

Contemporary reviews of Nino and Radiah were limited, given its modest sales, but its rediscovery has sparked acclaim. Rate Your Music rates it 4.64/5, ranking it #288 for 1974, with fans praising “Mint Julep” and “The Garden,” per. Discogs users call it a “fantastic pop record,” with “Looking For You” a standout, per. Funk My Soul hails it as a “Must Have,” comparing it to Melody Nelson, while In Sheeps Clothing calls it a “cult classic.” Goodtime Webzine describes it as a “point de bascule,” and Amazon.fr lauds its “jazzy” and “blues” depth. The 2018 reissue’s sound is “decent,” though the pixelated cover disappoints, per Discogs. Original vinyls are collector’s items, with 66 copies listed from $17.05, per Discogs.

The album’s legacy lies in its influence on funk-soul and progressive pop, inspiring French acts like Air and earning tributes from artists like GUTS and Patchworks in 2024, per Groundzero. Ferrer’s refusal to chase fame, per Fondsound, and the album’s rediscovery cement its status as a “chef d’oeuvre,” per Amazon.fr. It’s a reminder that even in disco’s shadow, Ferrer and Frye crafted a timeless groove.

Nino and Radiah et Le Sud is a soulful triumph, a 1974 album that blends Nino Ferrer’s melancholic vision with Radiah Frye’s radiant vocals and the Lafayette Afro Rock Band’s funky grooves. Tracks like “South,” “Mint Julep,” and “Looking For You” are “pépites,” per Le Vinyle Club, showcasing Ferrer’s artistry and Ice’s prowess, per Groundzero. Its occasional longueur and commercial struggles, per Efeeme, can’t dim its brilliance, as Funk My Soul ranks it with French classics. In a year of disco and prog, Ferrer crafted a funky oasis, like a Quercy dreamer singing to an American South he never quite reached. The 2018 Barclay reissue, per Discogs, is a must for funk-soul fans, proving its enduring magic.

So, grab the vinyl, spin “Looking For You,” and let Ferrer and Frye’s grooves whisk you to a world where funk meets melancholy. Just don’t expect 1974’s mainstream to have noticed; they were too busy boogying to “Kung Fu Fighting.” And if anyone calls it “just a French pop album,” tell them it’s a soulful revolution—then watch them hunt for the LP.

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