Lincoln Chase - 1973 - Lincoln Chase 'N You

Lincoln Chase 

1973 

Lincoln Chase 'N You

01. Wooshp, Oom, Sff ... Ahhhh ! 3:00

02. Fish Specie 8:00

03. You've Got To Be A Little Crazy 5:00

04. Amos X, Andy Lumumba And Aunt Jemimanomo 2:30

05. The Woods Are Full 5:03

06. Three Hands Riddle 6:41

07. The Human Game 3:46

08. The Blues Drew Blood This Time 2:36

Acoustic Bass – Robert Bushnell

Acoustic Bass, Electric Bass [Fender] – Ted Crumwell

Baritone Saxophone – Haywood Henry, Paul Williams

Clarinet, Voice – Angie Hester

Drums – Al Lindo, Cal Eddy, Frank "Downbeat" Brown, Idris Muhammad

Guitar – Al Fontaine, Keith Loving, Roland Prince

Tenor Saxophone, Baritone Saxophone – Bill Bivins

Trombone – Arthur Hamilton

Trumpet – Al Pazant, Don Leight, Ed Williams, Richie Williams

Voice – Patricia Rosalia

Piano, Acoustic Guitar, Organ, Vibraphone, Voice – Lincoln Chase

Lincoln R. Chase (June 29, 1926 – October 6, 1980) was a New York City-born songwriter, pianist, and occasional performer whose pen was mightier than his microphone – though he certainly tried the latter with gusto. The only child of West Indian immigrants (his father from Cuba), Chase studied at the American Academy of Music and kicked off his career signing with Decca Records in 1951. His early singles flopped across labels like RCA, Dawn, Liberty, and Columbia, but as a songwriter? Goldmine. He penned R&B classics like "Such a Night" (a hit for The Drifters, Johnnie Ray, and even Elvis), "Jim Dandy" (LaVern Baker's #1 R&B smash in 1956, later covered by Black Oak Arkansas), and coined the phrase "nitty gritty" with Shirley Ellis's 1963 hit.

In 1959, he met and married singer Shirley Ellis, managing her career and co-writing her playful '60s novelties: "The Nitty Gritty," "The Name Game" (where he sneakily name-drops himself: "Lincoln, Lincoln, bo-Bincoln..."), and "The Clapping Song" – all chart-toppers that turned playground rhymes into pop gold. His first album, The Explosive Lincoln Chase (1957), went nowhere commercially, but by 1973, he was ready for a funky comeback. Tragically, Chase passed away in Atlanta at just 54, leaving a legacy of infectious hooks that outshone his own recordings. If songwriting paid royalties in immortality, he'd be set – but hey, at least we can still clap along.

Sixteen years after his orchestral debut bomb, Lincoln Chase emerged from the songwriting shadows with Lincoln Chase 'n You (Paramount Records, PAS-6074), a self-produced, self-written, self-arranged oddball gem that's equal parts funky soul, spoken-word poetry, and psychedelic commentary. If his earlier hits were playful and concise, this album is Chase unleashing his inner eccentric – think a "black Frank Zappa but groovier," as one description nails it, or Melvin Van Peebles meets Eugene McDaniels with a dash of Gil Scott-Heron's bite. It's trippy, verbose, and unapologetically weird, blending jazz-funk grooves with marathon monologues on life, love, and society. Commercially? Crickets. Cult status among crate-diggers? Absolutely – this is the kind of record that makes you wonder if Chase finally said, "Screw it, I'm doing me."

Chase handles vocals (spoken and sung), piano, acoustic guitar, organ, and vibes, backed by a killer band: Idris Muhammad on drums (that funky precision is unmistakable), Al Pazant on trumpet, Keith Loving on guitar, and others adding horns and rhythm. All original compositions, clocking in around 40 minutes of dense, narrative-driven tracks.

This isn't your standard soul album – it's more like extended funky poems over grooves. Chase's delivery is theatrical: half-preacher, half-raconteur, with long-winded lyrics that veer into social commentary ("The Woods Are Full" rails against the rat race with vivid storytelling). The music is solidly '73 funk: tight breaks, wah-wah guitars, punchy horns, and Muhammad's impeccable drumming keeping things danceable amid the verbosity.

"The Woods Are Full": A highlight – Chase's spoken-word takedown of urban hustle over a slinky funk backdrop. It's like a gritty fable with killer drum breaks.

Other gems include twisted soul oddities that mix humor, philosophy, and groove – think extended raps before rap was a thing, but with vibraphone twinkles and organ swells for that jazz edge.

The vibe is intimate and personal (hence the title – it's Lincoln Chase and you, buddy), but the lengthy texts can feel like "een hele hoop geouwehoer" (Dutch for "a whole lot of blabber," as one cheeky reviewer put it). Humorous moments shine through Chase's witty wordplay, echoing his novelty-song roots.

Musically, this is prime early-'70s funk-soul fusion with jazz underpinnings. Idris Muhammad's drumming is the anchor: crisp, pocket-deep grooves with subtle fills and breaks that scream sample fodder (no wonder diggers love it). Chase's arrangements layer horns (Pazant's trumpet adds brassy stabs) over modal vamps, with his own piano/organ providing harmonic color – often minor-key moods for that introspective feel. Guitar work (Loving) brings wah-infused rhythm and leads, evoking Blaxploitation soundtracks. Production is raw and warm: analog tape saturation, natural room reverb on drums, and a live-band energy that avoids over-polish. Vocally, Chase isn't a powerhouse singer but a charismatic talker-singer; his vibes and organ add ethereal textures, nodding to his classical training.

Weaknesses? The spoken-word marathons can test patience – it's avant-garde soul that demands attention, not background play. Not for everyone, but that's the charm.

Overall, Lincoln Chase 'n You is a bold, funky curiosity from a hitmaker gone rogue – underrated, eccentric, and groovy as hell. If you dig offbeat '70s soul like Van Peebles' Brer Soul or McDaniels' Headless Heroes, hunt this down (original vinyl is rare; check YouTube rips). 8/10 for the brave – extra points for making "nitty gritty" cool and name-checking himself eternally. Just don't play it on a short attention span day, or you'll be lost in the woods!