It’s Friday morning and I’m still awake after pulling an all-nighter. After recording this week’s episode of my Urban Alternatives podcast with Emeyesi last night I stayed up. I edited and uploaded said podcast, tackled a couple of household chores, did some maintenance on my PC and listened to a whole lotta music.
My late-night soundtrack — a shuffle-mix consisting of tracks from British Anarcho-Punks Crass, seminal Metal band Black Sabbath, Soul icon Otis Redding, Warhol protégés The Velvet Underground, proto-Punks The Stooges, arty New Wave standard-bearers The Talking Heads, tend-setting Post-Punk ensemble Wire and The Ramones — was pretty manic though. After going without sleep for so many hours and indulging in playlist schizophrenia (I also listened to the aforementioned podcast mind you) I realize that I’m in dire need of some relaxation.
So, when I reached beneath my desk to rifle through the pile of “random” records waiting there I already knew exactly which sleeve I was looking for. It was something familiar, funky and smoothed the fuck out. Something mellow and a little magical, even if the tune where the artist in question christened himself “Mr. Magic” isn’t on this particular LP. A record by a musician instrumental in the rise of so-called “smooth jazz,” but one from a time before “muzak” when Jazz-Funk was as smooth as you could get.
Sipping a cold beverage and nursing a bit of a headache as pale sunlight creeps through the makeshift curtains gently waving in the window next to my desk I knew I needed something that was gonna make me feel good. And what better choice could I have made than boundary-blurring Jazz/Funk/Pop saxophonist Grover Washington Jr.’s 1975 CTI/Kudu LP Feels So Good?
When I profile records like Feels So Good I always feel like I’m cheating a bit. Not necessarily because it’s far-from-obscure and a crate-digger standard. But because it’s one of my favorite records. It’s an all purpose gem. I’ve sampled it. I’ve played it out in live DJ sets. I’ve spun it consistently in my “dusty” radio sets and mixes. And it’s a record I can always enjoy listening to from front to back no matter what. There’s a reason it’s a classic. And I’m sure it’s a favorite of more than a few folks who’ll end up reading this.
Even if you’re not a sample digger, a Jazz head or an old-school aficionado your probably know the song “Hydra.” Its opening break — comprised of one of the hardest, most neck-snapping-est drum-kits ever recorded (courtesy of Kenneth “Spider Webb” Rice), a toughly plucked bassline and a few atmospheric Rhodes notes — has been sampled about a bazillion times. That basic groove which has supplied the template for countless Hip-Hop tracks is also the foundation of “Hydra” for most of its nine-plus minute running length. It’s a perfect platform for Grover, bassist Louis Johnson (of The Brothers Johnson), keyboardist (and album arranger) Bob James, the percussionists and the brass & string sections to get loose on. And they do, in smooth waves of subtle changes churned up by rolling bass riffs that crest with soaring horn leads and recess in the sigh of strings.
The tune “Knucklehead,” a low-slung pimped-out Funk cinematic Funk groove that recalls the work of Isaac Hayes and Barry White, might have been sampled nearly as much as “Hydra.” Bassist Gary King and drummer Jimmy Madison provide the backbone of the track, which Eric Gale twined his guitar strings around like the branches of the nervous system splitting off the spinal chord. Then there’s those big Blaxploitation-esque horn-stabs which ratchet up the drama, infusing the song with a sense of menace (”to the cops in Suffolk county, I’m known as a fugitive…”) before Grover’s laid-back as a gentleman-of-leisure noodling and licks, slick and sharp as a switchblade, kick in.
The exploitation cinema vibe is in evidence on the Bob James-penned “The Sea Lion” as well. With its freaky whale-song-like intro, speedy percussion, theatrical string arrangements, gurgling synth-bass (a-la Herbie Hancock on Head Hunters), chicken-grease guitars and action-beat to cut-scene changes sounds like it was intended for a suspenseful, edge-of-your-seat chase-scene from some ’70s action flick.
The remaining standout, “Moonstreams,” is a far less energetic sort of composition. Slower-paced and of a more ambient atmosphere, its a dreamy soundscape that’s more akin to the proggy side of Fusion than it is the Funky-Jazz which makes up the majority of the LP or the lite Soul and Pop-inflected stuff Washington would eventually become associated with.
Don’t take my leaving it out of my list of highlights as a dis, but I can’t say the title track is my favorite song on the album. It thumps and pops like the rest of the cuts on the LP, and it has some wicked horn stabs and an ill George Benson-esque guitar solo towards the end. But it just doesn’t have the personality of some of the others. Like I said though, Feels So Good is always a feelgood listening experience from me from beginning to end. So while I might leave it’s namesake off my list of highlights, it’s not a lowlight either, because there just aren’t any on this record.