There are certain records that for a variety of
reasons fall into the category of inexplicable. Something in the writing or the
recording process makes it live outside the rules by which we normally judge albums.
What are some examples? Can’s Tago Mago, Brian
Eno’s mid-70’s vocal albums, Bob Dylan’s Time
Out Of Mind, Spiritualized’s Ladies
And Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space, D’Angelo’s Black Messiah to name a few (although admittedly these albums are
few and far between, which is ultimately why they are inexplicable). The king
daddy of this type of record though is Sly & The Family Stone’s 1971
masterpiece There’s A Riot Goin’ On.
From the very first notes, we realize we are in
an alternate universe. Thick, warm, analogue (this is an album to listen to on
vinyl if you can get it) notes burble out like velvet, pouring from your
speakers, as Sly straddles the universes of soul and rock, essentially
inventing funk as we listen (we’ll let James Brown and George Clinton in there
too). The songs all seem like clouds passing in front of Sly’s window that he
is trying to grab, but they dissipate just as he gets his arms around them. The
hits on this album – “Family Affair,” “You Caught Me Smilin’,” and “Runnin’ Away”
– clock in at about 3 minutes each,
yet each one feels like an epochal leap forward in the evolution of conscious
soul. That’s part of the inexplicable nature of this album - time seems to come
unglued; there is no sense of normal song length and structure, even though
most of the actual songs (save two) are short. By all accounts the recording
process was chaos, with Sly, rolling in dough and high as a kite, inviting
friends (like Miles Davis, Bobby Womack and Billy Preston) to his rented home
studio for days-long sessions that seemingly were producing nothing but
enormous studio bills. Credits were not kept, tapes were erased, Sly himself
overdubbed other people’s parts. However, Sly was indeed sly and as one of the
most experienced and talented producers of the 1960’s, he took this molten
insanity and turned it into a cohesive work of startling originality. There are
no credits on the album, just a bunch of photos that capture the era, and this
just adds to the inexplicability of the album.
Every single song on this album is worth
inspection, so let’s look at each one:
“Luv
N’ Haight” – a wink-wink to the counterculture - it was issued as a single, and
it sets the stage beautifully for this album. Disembodied vocals and keyboard
jabs punctuate the roiling bass line. Like many of the songs on the album, it
lacks traditional song structure, but rather takes a pounding beat and turns it
into a statement.
“Just
Like A Baby” - a bit more conventional structure, but still way out. A ballad
with a classic slow funk burn. It highlights Sly’s incredible sense of
restraint and subtlety. He doesn’t let the languid beat out of his sight for
one second. And he resists every temptation to rev the song up into something
other than what it is: perfection.
“Poet”
- Sly was using a primitive drum machine on some tracks, and it is remarkably
effective in combination with the airy sense of the songs and his spare
keyboard parts. Again he shows amazing restraint in keeping a lid on this
track. It feels like it could explode at any second, but instead it keeps an
amazing shuffle groove going under the self-referential lyrics.
“Family
Affair” - One of Sly’s greatest hits, it touches on issues of race and love and
relationships in a poetic and beautiful way. The backing track boils along like
a coffee percolator, with Sly giving a great vocal and his sister Rose
providing amazing counterpoint vocals. A true classic.
“Africa
Talks To You ‘The Asphalt Jungle’” - Side
one closes with this almost 9-minute titanic shot of funk. All the parts lock
together like some crazy psychedelic jigsaw puzzle, amazing bass playing up
front competes with Sly’s woozy vocals as guitar scratches and tasty keyboard
fills lurk around every corner. Like a Miles Davis cut, this sounds like it was
extracted from some other endless jam, and in its own context succeeds
magnificently as mountain of rock-solid funk. Once again, the theme of this
album is restraint. For someone taking mountains of drugs, Sly had an
incredibly cohesive vision for what this album was going to sound like. And as
such, it stands as an album like no other he made. It isn’t a collection of
songs - it is a sound statement.
“Brave
& Strong” - Side two starts upbeat with a lurching bass line playing hide
and seek with punchy horns and a typically indescribable Sly vocal. More than
any singer I can think of Sly influenced a new generation of singers. He, like
James Brown, reveled in his own unique ethnic brilliance. He wasn’t trying to
fit in mainstream society, he was pointing to a place of pride in who you
actually were.
“(You
Caught Me) Smilin’” – The most irresistible track on the album, it also jumps
like an actual hit single. Slap bass, one of his best “up” lyrics, horns that
seem to come from the heavens like heralding angels, and classic Sly keyboard
work. When I want to turn somebody onto this artist, this is one of the first
songs I play them.
“Time”
- Another slow, one might even say
torturous, ballad. This song again shows off Sly’s vocal mastery above a simple
drum machine beat and subtly placed keyboards, proving that less is more.
“Spaced
Cowboy” - The most fun track on the album, and possibly in his entire
catalogue, this song contains one of the most hilariously deranged vocals (including
the great “soul-yodel”) placed squarely over a driving funk beat. An absolute
must for mix tapes.
“Runnin’
Away” – irresistible, guitar-driven little ditty that is deceptive in its
simplicity. It is actually an incredibly clever bit of writing that might not
have sounded out of place on a Fifth Dimension album. Prescient lyrics that
seem more relevant today than ever.
“Thank
You For Talkin’ To Me Africa” - A monster! This is the demo version of Sly’s
earlier hit “Thank You For Lettin’ Me Be Mice Elf Agin.” It is over seven minutes of pounding, perfect funk. Poppin’ bass,
funky clavinet, a loping beat and Sly giving his best half-lidded hipster
vocals. It is a foundation piece of all funk.
The overall effect of this album is like getting
in a time machine and ending up in 1970 Los Angeles, wandering down a street at
dusk, soul music blares from a window here, the thud of a truck there, raw
emotional feelings of race, sex, drugs, politics seems to bubble up from the
pavement. You drop to one knee, stick your ear to the ground and the inexplicable
sound you hear is There’s A Riot Goin’
On.
-
Paul
Epstein