Blogarhythms

While all of that James Todd Smith “future of the funk,” “let’s push things forward” like Mike Skinner, visionary artist stuff I was popping in yesterday’s post is fine & dandy that doesn’t mean we should forget “old school” music or neglect to pay it homage. I mean, how else can we expect artists to craft contemporary essentials and future classics unless they have an understanding of what made the antique records revered as such today classic and essential?

The answer of course is that we can’t. Nor should we. In fact, it’s the expectation that we can (or even worse the apathetic belief that the music of 30+ years ago is the best music humanity has ever or will ever make) which enables the existence of an entertainment industry full of “artists” whose influences are businesspeople, gangsters & (wallet-sized portraits of) Benjamin Franklin, and whose idols are literal idols forged from precious metals rather than talented musicians of bygone eras.

For this reason I appreciate artists whose fascination with the music of the past leads them to try to recreate the feel of those old records in the most direct way possible; releasing lo-fi recordings that crackle. hiss and compress the sound of real musical instruments made of wood, brass and steel into concentrated, unyielding grooves infused with the spirit of their idols. This school of revivalism, labeled “throwback” or “retro” by some, isn’t a new phenomenon per se. Bands seeking to resuscitate, recreate or even imitate their Funk, Soul, Disco, Pop (Pure, Girl-Group, Chamber, etc), Garage-Rock, Psych-Rock, Punk, Post-Punk or New Wave forebears are plentiful. Retro-Soul, particularly the brand championed by Brooklyn-based Daptone Records, received unprecedented exposure thanks to the Dap-Kings work backing Amy Winehouse and fleshing out the productions of Mark Ronson. Winehouse’s success in particular has fueled a crush of chick singers attempting to parlay mildly soulful vocal chops, earnest songwriting and backing from a horn or string section into throwback gold, or a comparison to a Blue-Eyed or Girl-Group-Soul diva from the ’60s at least.

That crop of artists doesn’t even attempt to mimic the lo-fidelity grit and 45RPM Funk authenticity of the Daptones Records stable, much less that of the Soul and Funk artists their work acknowledges. But there’s a whole host of other lesser-known acts whose intention is dropping it hard & heavy, paying their respect to the legends of Funk & Soul by making records that can stand next to theirs (their modernity almost indistinguishable) and in some cases give them a run for their money. Brighton, UK-based Baby Charles, an eight-piece Funk outfit fronted by vocalist Dionne Charles (who sounds like neither Amy Winehouse or Sharon Jones, but bluesy Soul-Rock shouters like Genya Ravan and Lydia Pense, with a splash of Lynn Collins), are one of the acts emerging as new leaders of that authentic Funk resurgence.

Their debut album, simply titled Baby Charles, is a twelve-track outing that betrays the band’s admitted fascination with James Brown (”No Controlling Me,” “Hard Man to Please”) and The Meters (”Invisible,” “Life’s Begun”), and their affinity with their contemporaries at Daptone Records, particularly Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings and The Budos Band. While Funk revival groups are often adept at locking in on a hot drum & bass groove, dressing it up with little more than flitting scraps of other instrumentation, all the members of Baby Charles (but especially the horn, flute and organ players) manged to impressed me with their musicianship, not just the rhythm section. They’re a tight unit of obviously skilled musicians who treat the music they play (with respect and admiration. They’re not just “jamming,” and it shows. One of the best examples of the band’s ability to coalesce their influences and their members instrumental talents, and in a unique fashion to boot, is on their tumbling Afro-Funk-flavored cover of the Arctic Monkeys‘ “I Bet You Look Good On the Dancefloor.”

Baby Charles “I Bet You Look Good On the Dancefloor”

A band who can remake a song that’s not even three years old and make it sounds like it was recorded by Ten Wheel Drive’s lead vocalist during a trip to Nigeria four decades (give or take a few years) ago? Sounds like the past, present and the future of music are in safe hands after all.

- El Keter