Although I have a deep love for ’80s music, when it comes to “diggin’ in the crates” I’m far-less likely to pick up records released during the very-late-’70s or early-’80s. I’m not sure if this is because the slicker sounds of that era didn’t mesh with the “dusty” sampling aesthetic of the Hip-Hop coming out during my formative years of milk-crate archeology, or if it had something to do with some “rule” I enforced on myself about not sampling records that were still relatively fresh in people’s memory. Either way, I often kick myself now for not buying more sides from this era because so many of those records are playable in a DJ context, and when it comes to sampling I’ve discovered the benefits of having a broader sound palate.
Texas-based Soul outfit The Masqueraders know more than a bit about stylistic breadth too. The band was active in the music industry since the late ’50s, auditioned for Motown, and released a slew of singles for various labels, including Wand, Bell, Hi, and Isaac Hayes‘ HBS, among others. Despite their longevity, and ability to get in where they fit in, they only released three full-length albums, of which their self-titled 1980 LP, released during a time that would witness the waning of Disco and the rise of the “smooth” Adult Contemporary brand of R&B that dominated the ’80s, was their last. Knowing how they plied their craft in Dallas, Detroit, New York and Memphis, all cities with their own distinct flavor, it shouldn’t be too difficult to understand why they’d be more than willing to try their hand at the smoothed-out Disco-influenced sound of the day.
While they include a couple of ballads, for the most part it’s the lightweight Disco-Funk numbers and soulful steppers that are the highlights of the disc. Both the slower numbers, “Into Your Soul” and “For the Sake of Pride,” are less soul-stirring heart-breakers in the Soul tradition as they are shmaltzy Pop balladry geared towards ’80s “lite” radio. And while “Into Your Soul” leans more towards the soulful loverman side, making it tolerable, it just can’t compete with the better of the more uptempo fare. Album closer “Rock Jam” is one of only a few cuts on where the guys aim directly at the dancefloor, and the result is a robotic Disco stomper with a nasty bass riff and loads of synths that reminds me of their Bang Records label-mates Brick quite a bit. But the best track on the disc to my ears is a downtempo Disco gem called “Starry Love,” which picks up the “space love” theme of R&B jams like Norman Connors‘ “You are My Starship,” spinning a story of perfect heavenly romance over a shimmery Disco-ball-illumined bass groove replete with laser-like synths that calls to mind the Isley Brothers and Michael McDonald of all people.
The Masqueraders is far from essential, but it’s a solid record from time of change withing the music industry by a group who’d already witnessed much change over their 20-plus year career. I’m not sure how it stacks up against their earlier LPs, or the majority of their single releases, but it would probably be fun to listen and survey how they evolved over the decades until this, their industry finale.
-El Keter
