Wendell Harrison
1981
Organic Dream
01. Ginseng Love 4:04
02. Winter 6:38
03. Love Juice 4:45
04. Peace Of Mind 7:17
05. The Wok 6:41
06. A Green Meadow 5:55
Bass – Wendell Lucas
Drums – Joseph Tandy
Electric Piano, Drums, Percussion, Backing Vocals – Andrew Gibson
Guitar – Kenny Demery
Lead Vocals – Kathy Simmons
Lead Vocals, Backing Vocals – Miche Braden
Piano, Electric Piano, Percussion, Backing Vocals – Pamela Wise
Synthesizer – Dennis Boles
Synthesizer, Percussion, Tenor Saxophone, Flute, Clarinet – Wendell Harrison
Wendell Harrison's Organic Dream is a delightfully quirky detour into the heart of early '80s Detroit soul-jazz fusion that feels like stumbling upon a hidden hot spring in the middle of a concrete jungle—refreshing, a bit steamy, and unexpectedly profound.
Born on October 1, 1942, in Detroit, Michigan, Wendell Harrison picked up the clarinet at age seven before switching to tenor saxophone during his time at Northwestern High School, where he rubbed shoulders with future jazz luminaries like trumpeter Lonnie Hillyer, saxophonist Charles McPherson, and percussionist Roy Brooks. Formal studies with the legendary pianist Barry Harris sharpened his skills, and by his mid-teens, he was already gigging professionally, backing the likes of Marvin Gaye in Choker Campbell's band. Harrison's path took him to New York in the 1960s, where he performed with heavyweights such as Grant Green, Sun Ra, and Hank Crawford (appearing on several of Crawford's Atlantic albums). A stint in California for substance abuse treatment at Synanon led to collaborations with Esther Phillips and Art Pepper, but it was his return to Detroit in the early 1970s that cemented his legacy. There, he co-founded the influential Tribe record label and artist collective with trombonist Phil Ranelin, a platform that blended spiritual jazz with Black political consciousness, complete with a magazine edited by Harrison and his then-wife Patricia. Later, he established Rebirth Inc. (a non-profit for jazz education) and his own WenHa label, while mentoring generations through workshops and method books. Harrison's career has always been as much about community and self-determination as it is about reeds and rhythms—think of him as the DIY jazz uncle who not only plays but builds the whole treehouse.
Organic Dream, originally released in 1981 on Harrison's WenHa label (with later reissues on Luv N' Haight/Ubiquity), emerged during a fertile but under-documented period in Detroit's music scene. It marked a departure from the more spiritual, avant-leaning Tribe sound toward smoother R&B, boogie-funk, and soul territories, while still retaining that unmistakable jazz DNA. Influences are woven throughout like threads in a psychedelic tapestry: echoes of post-disco grooves, Motown's soulful backbone, a dash of Sun Ra's cosmic experimentation (via analog synths), and the warm introspection of artists like Pharoah Sanders or even early smooth jazz pioneers. Harrison was essentially DIY-ing a bridge between eras—fusing live band energy with emerging electronic textures at a time when sampling and neo-soul hadn't yet made such hybrids seamless. The record label context is key here: WenHa was a shoestring operation born of necessity, serving as both a publishing vehicle and a calling card for gigs, which explains the album's intimate, demo-like charm rather than polished major-label gloss.
Musicians involved bring a tight-knit, family affair vibe. Harrison himself handles clarinet, flute, tenor sax, Moog synthesizer, percussion, vocals, and arrangements—basically moonlighting as a one-man organic orchestra. His wife Pamela Wise (pianist and frequent collaborator) contributes Fender Rhodes, piano, percussion, and backing vocals. Bass duties fall to Wendell Lucas, whose amped-up lines drive the funk; drums and additional percussion come from Andrew Gibson and Joe Tandy; Kenny Demery adds guitar; Dennis Boles sprinkles Moog strings; and vocalists like Miche Braden and Kathy Simmons lend soulful leads and harmonies. It's a small ensemble that punches way above its weight, evoking the communal spirit of Tribe while venturing into dancefloor territory.
Technically, the album is a fascinating, imperfect gem of lo-fi ingenuity recorded at Harrison Studios. Opener "Ginseng Love" kicks things off with slap bass, punchy drums, flute melodies from Harrison, and ethereal choir-like vocals, all buoyed by quirky electronic chirps—it's like herbal tea spiked with disco funk, inviting you to soak in a hot spring of positive vibes. "Winter" shifts to a contemplative mode with clarinet, shaken bells, acoustic piano from Wise, and organic percussion, painting a cozy cabin scene amid falling snow: warm, nostalgic, and quietly spiritual, a nod to Harrison's Tribe roots. Then comes the undeniable highlight "Love Juice," a funky 4/4 disco jam with wailing tenor sax, repetitive vocal hooks that border on cheeky ("love that juice!"), and a bassline that could power a small party—pure boogie bliss that probably caused more than a few awkward dancefloor moments in the best way. "Peace of Mind" starts as a tender soul ballad before morphing into an uptempo funk jam with stellar guitar work, while "The Wok" dives into spacey, nocturnal experimentation: clarinet floating over meaty bass, analog synths, and tight grooves, like a stir-fry of jazz and midnight mood music (the title alone invites a chuckle about cooking up something exotic). Closer "A Green Meadow" delivers nuanced synth strings, icy Rhodes, and Harrison's tenor in a smooth, pastoral Detroit jazz finale—elegant yet earthy. Production is raw and budget-conscious, with occasional quirks in fidelity that only add to its homemade authenticity; it's not pristine, but the playing is warm, inventive, and full of heart.
The artwork perfectly encapsulates the album's vibe: a shirtless Harrison serenely playing flute outdoors in a natural, almost mythical setting—pure magic that screams "organic" in the most literal, hippie-adjacent sense. Art direction and photography by Patricia Harrison capture a peaceful, earthy ethos that contrasts the urban Detroit backdrop, evoking dreams of meadows, mountains, and spiritual renewal. It's the kind of cover that makes you want to quit your day job, brew some ginseng tea, and commune with nature—hilariously at odds with the era's slicker commercial jazz aesthetics, yet utterly fitting for Harrison's independent spirit.
Upon its initial limited release, Organic Dream flew somewhat under the radar, serving more as a personal and professional document than a chart-topper, but reissues in the 2010s (especially via Luv N' Haight) brought it renewed attention from crate-diggers, soul enthusiasts, and jazz historians. Critics have praised its DIY charm and forward-thinking fusion—Thom Jurek on AllMusic called it an "interesting historical portrait of Detroit's Do-It-Yourself aesthetic" during a fertile era, noting its prophetic blend of styles that anticipated club jazz and neo-soul, even while acknowledging imperfections in sound and conception. Public reception, particularly among fans rediscovering it on platforms like Bandcamp and Spotify, leans enthusiastically positive: listeners rave about its uplifting energy, danceable grooves, and spiritual warmth, with "Love Juice" becoming something of a cult classic. Its legacy endures as a testament to Harrison's entrepreneurial hustle and versatility—an under-the-radar bridge between Detroit's jazz golden age, Tribe's activism, and the smoother sounds of the '80s. In a world of overproduced slickness, Organic Dream remains a funky, funny, heartfelt reminder that the best music often grows wild and unpolished, straight from the soul. If jazz had a hot tub philosopher, Harrison nailed the session on this one.
