I’ve broken the “rules” I set up for myself in doing this Records at Random thing a couple of times by featuring a record simply because I felt like listening to it that day. On the flip side of that I’ve also been pleased to find an LP that happens to be a personal favorite of mine sitting in the pile of Records at Random candidates leaned up against the leg of my desk now and then.
Such was the case when I groggily reached into said pile and found my hand returning with the worn sleeve of Mystic Voyage the 1975 release from Roy Ayers Ubiquity in its clutch this morning. The LP itself promptly fell, clattering across my wood floor, out of the gaping slit in the bottom of the sleeve. But I smiled none-the-less, because I knew I’d be spending some quality time with one of the favorite platters purchased during my “crate-digging” career.
I’ve read a lot of hullabaloo about how Jazz purists (or “snobs” to some) thought this album was doo-doo and that Roy Ayers was “dumbing down” and “selling out” by turning his musical direction ever-increasingly towards Funk and R&B rather than straight-ahead Jazz during the ’70s. But I could really care less about that when I bought the LP during the mid-’90s. And while it surely makes me shake my head at those “snobs” (and gives me pause to examine the attitudes of any so-called musical “purists” regardless of genre) it hasn’t changed how I feel about the album now either.
One thing that stuck out to me during this morning’s listening session is that there’s not a lot of vibraphone, Roy Ayers signature instrument, on the album. This struck me as funny because, though the album was ripe with already-used loops and samples, sample-fodder for future releases and even a few grooves that are still-untouched to this day, I bought it specifically because of my abiding love for the vibraphone-fueled title track. While The Beatnuts were busy sampling its signature bass and vibes for a track by a certain Latino emcee from the Bronx I was calling in to a certain Jazz show on a regional college radio station requesting it again-and-again “Protect Ya Neck” style. So when I saw it sitting in a crate at a local used record and comic-book shop (which, sadly, closed soon after) I snatched it up, inflated sticker price and questionable condition not withstanding.
After dropping the needle on “Mystic Voyage” about a billion times I eventually discovered the charms of other songs on the album. I found the album’s lead-off track, the classic break jam “Brother Green (The Disco King),” first. The uptempo, percussion-laden rhythm, heavy drums, guttural Calavinet and chicken-scratch guitars of the Edwin Birdsong-assisted body-rocker instantly familiar from their use by Hip-Hop artists over the years and the cut quickly became a favorite. As did the smoother Disco-Jazz of the uplifting “Life Is Just a Moment” and it’s anthemic sing-along Part 2, which would eventually go on to provide the basis for a certain Hip-Hop hit of its own, though I’d no way of knowing that then.
I can listen to Mystic Voyage front-to-back uninterrupted (other than bringing a track or two back for a repeat play or three) any time and enjoy it as a whole. But more casual listeners might want to keep an ear out for specific joints. To that end, the Parliament-esque “Spirit of Doo Do,” which features a catchy-but-goofy vocal hook and a memorable synth-whistle, instrumental number “The Black Five” (which, like the title track draws the line between the R&B-influenced Funky-Jazz of the ’70s and the easy-listening Smooth Jazz of later eras), another stab at the Funk styles of P-Funk and the Ohio Players (complete with falsetto crooning) called “A Wee Bit,” and the rumbling discotheque-meets-cabaret torch-song “Take All the Time You Need” all come recommended.
As for me, I’m gonna bring the needle back to the front of one my favorite and give the disc another spin.