Showing posts with label Linda Clifford. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Linda Clifford. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 27, 2023

Lost in the night

Photo: Nona Hendryx by Nick Sangiamo, 1984


Posting a little overdue mix for the start of summer...

Some years back I had made a little tradition of putting a mix up for Pride season, so am coming back to that partial sort of way. At the same time, this particular mix isn't exactly the straight-on celebratory disco that I'd usually have on tap for the occasion. Decided instead to go in a few different directions this time, using various selections of post-disco, and/or disco-adjacent material this time. Still, quite heavy on female singers, as is my tendency. Most of the songs on here are just under or just over 100 BPM, so I suppose this one's perhaps more for walking than dancing.


Most of the records I used for this mix were also ones that I brought the last time my partner Andrew and I played our INTERGEN night in May. As it turns out, we'll be doing another INTERGEN night this coming Wednesday June 28th, a kind of post-pride recovery through records, if you will. Starting at 9PM at The Little Jerry in Toronto. If you're in the area, do come by!



Lost In The Night (Download)

Tracklist and track notes below... Enjoy!

Tracklist:

Terry Crawford - Chocolate Candy
Hot - Just ‘Cause I’m Guilty
Lucio Battisti - Un uomo che ti ama
Maxine Nightingale - Get It Up For Love
Alfie Silas - Put The Freeze On
Nona Hendryx - Soft Targets
Costas Charitodiplomenos - Lost In The Night (12" Version)
Barbara Fowler - Come and Get My Lovin’
First Love - It’s A Mystery To Me
Linda Clifford - I Want To Get Away With You
First Choice - Pressure Point
Dalida - Helwa ya baladi
Martha Velez - There You Are
Paula Moore - On The Edge
Liza Minnelli - If There Was Love


All the records used in this mix



Track Notes:

Terry Crawford - Chocolate Candy: A favourite of mine from Canadian singer Terry Crawford (sometimes called Terri Crawford) and one that I had happened upon quite by accident. Back in 2006, when I was living in Calgary, my favourite record shop had a back store room full of records. The owner noted how much disco I was buying, so let me into his store room, telling me that anything I found in there was $2 bucks a pop. I didn't have a portable record player with me, nor did they have a preview station, so I was going largely on instinct. While this wasn't exactly the disco I was perhaps half-expecting, I consider it one of the gems I found in that particular expedition. Written and originally recorded by American singer-songwriter Cheryl Dilcher in 1973 (who herself has a little disco connection), there's something about the bass in the groove here, and Terry's vocal approach that cinches this as my preferred version. Some years later, I figured out this was a fairly sought after record when someone from Europe messaged me on Discogs offering to pay me an amount of my choice for a .wav file of this song. As of this writing, the promo-only 12" is still going for upwards of $200 USD on Discogs, though I will say, for the intrepid diggers out there, copies still show up once in a while in Canadian dollar bins.

Hot - Just ‘Cause I’m Guilty: This group, comprised of Gwen Owens, Cathy Carson and Juanita Curiel put out three albums, all of which were helmed by the Muscle Shoals production duo of Clayton Ivey & Terry Woodford. I first heard Ivey & Woodford's work on The Supremes 1975 self-titled album. Not long after their time on Motown, they had one of their biggest hits on this group with the song "Angel In Your Arms," later covered by Millie Jackson, Barbara Mandrell and Reba McIntyre, to name a few. While that was the hit, the funkier sass and swing of "Just 'Cause I'm Guilty," the last track on Hot's self-titled album, remains my favourite. In any case, both songs summarize that intersection of soul, funk, and country that Ivey & Woodford covered so well.

Lucio Battisti - Un uomo che ti ama: First heard of Lucio Battisti through the Italian diva, Mina, who sang many of his songs. One of his many successful collaborations with the lyricist Mogol, his 1976 album (which this song is from) is among my favourites. Called Lucio Battisti, La batteria, Il contrabbasso, eccetera (The drums, the double bass, etcetera) it's one I had discovered from my partner, Andrew's collection, and shows Battisti incorporating ever more elements of American funk and disco into his sound. Recently, Sony Music Italy reissued the album on vinyl with a bonus CD which included the Spanish version of the record. This song, (which in English means, "A Man Who Loves You") and the entire record remain a wonderful listen in either language.

Maxine Nightingale - Get It Up For Love: I don't think I've heard a bad version of this song, which is a good thing, because there seem to be quite a few out there. I first heard this song when Táta Vega covered it as a disco song on her Try My Love album in 1979, which I had written about on this blog some years back - see Disco Delivery #41: Táta Vega - Try My Love (1979, Motown). This version, from 1977 on Maxine Nightingale's second album Night Life (sometimes titled Love Hit Me after its lead single) cuts closer to Ned Doheny's original. Though Táta's version will always be tops for me, I'd rank this up there as a favourite also.

Alfie Silas - Put The Freeze On: Alfie Silas-Durio has a long list of credits to her name as a session singer, as well as three albums of her own from the early 80s. This one's from her first, Alfie on RCA in 1982, which had a number of good tracks (I've found 1982-83 to be particularly good years for post-disco R&B/Boogie records). Ended up buying the album largely on the appeal of this song. Its melancholy synths conjure up spacey themes and metaphors, as do the lyrics. From that description one would think the whole thing could fall into gimmicky and/or cheesy territory, but it all comes together in quite a sincere, soulful and innovative way. Pitched down slightly for a little extra depth.

Nona Hendryx - Soft Targets: One of my favourite songs from her underrated 1984 LP, The Art Of Defense, the lyrics conjure up thoughts and images of vulnerability and uncertainty with a groove that's minimal but powerful. Pitched this one down also for beatmatching purposes and to impart a little extra power. In my opinion, a highlight of the work she did with Material/Bill Laswell in the early 80s.

Costas Charitodiplomenos - Lost In The Night (12" Version): Italo-Disco from Greek singer/songwriter Costas Charitodiplomenos. I had discovered Costas' songs on YouTube, and was intrigued at the Italo sound some of his work had. The connection clearly wasn't lost on the Italians either, as this ended up on the Many Records label in Italy, remixed by Mario Flores and Romano Bais (who put out a number of Italo records as R. Bais). Lyrically and melodically solid, I thought it worked well with the theme and feeling of the previous Nona Hendryx track and many of the other selections here.

Barbara Fowler - Come and Get My Lovin’: Stellar boogie from the Radar label and singer Barbara Fowler, who had been a vocalist in the disco/boogie projects Sinnamon and Sparkle. Don't always get to play this one, but am glad to find a place here for it. From the extended dubby synth effects to a killer soulful vocal, this has so many of the things I love about early 80's boogie. Produced by Eric Matthew (AKA Joe Tucci), the man who brought you Gary's Gang, Sure Shot by Tracy Weber and many of Sharon Redd's hits.

First Love - It’s A Mystery To Me: I've covered this group here before, when I posted their 1980 disco single Don't Say Goodnight/Love Me Today. Until recently, their sole album, Love At First Sight, on their producer, Donald Burnside's label, Chycago International Music, remained elusive for me. When I finally picked it up at a recent record fair, this song was one of the standouts for me. From 1982, one of those golden years of boogie, much like the previous selection - a funky groove, with lovely synths together with charming, soulful harmonies.

Linda Clifford - I Want To Get Away With You: One of my favourite disco divas, and a highlight from one of my favourite albums of hers, I'm Yours from 1980. That album was mostly produced by Isaac Hayes, and this song in particular has his stamp all over it. Personally, I think it's too bad this wasn't a single. I love hearing Linda sing in her lower register here, and all of the little classy touches on the production, from the elegant pauses to the guitar hook that gets you right from the top.

First Choice - Pressure Point: Another one I've covered here before - see Disco Delivery #29: First Choice - Breakaway (1980, Gold Mind/Salsoul). This was from the group's last album, and while this song wasn't among their hits, it's definitely among my personal favourites of theirs. Produced by the ever reliable Norman Harris and mixed by Tee Scott, from those strings at the intro, to all of the sharp, teasing breaks and edits, am glad to finally place this one in a mix!

Dalida - Helwa ya baladi: Changing gears into a signature song from the late icon of French pop, Dalida. I picked up a Canadian pressing of the album this was from, Dédié À Toi/Monday Tuesday some years back. However it wasn't really the disco tracks that captured me but this one, the last song on Side A. Sung in her native Egyptian Arabic, the title evidently translates to "Oh Sweet, My Homeland." Something of an evergreen patriotic song in Egypt these days, it's easy to hear why this became one of Dalida's most beloved songs in Egypt and across the Arab world.

Martha Velez - There You Are: I had bought Martha Velez' album Escape From Babylon at my favourite Calgary record store back in 2005. At the time, I didn't really have a great deal of knowledge of all the great names involved, but it intrigued me nonetheless. Between that and the fact that it was sealed and had a song called "Disco Night" on it, how could one go wrong? Beginning her recording career as a folk singer, she recorded this reggae album in 1975 with Bob Marley and Lee "Scratch" Perry in Jamaica. While this album still seems to get mixed reviews, it's one I personally love and go back to again and again, with a much fuller appreciation these days. This song, written by Marley, is to my ears, one of its high points.

Paula Moore - On The Edge: One of the big record fairs here in Toronto had room of $5 records that I used to love going to. It's a frenzy, but one never knows what one will find there. This particular album, titled High and Low in most territories, retitled Valparaiso in Canada after its hit single, is one case in point. Produced by super-producer and Daft Punk dad Daniel Vangarde, it's not quite like the hits he made for Ottawan and The Gibson Brothers, opting instead for a more subdued synth-centred sound here. While the album is perhaps not consistent enough in my ears to to be a classic, there are nevertheless, several remarkable songs on it, this being one of them. Combining the synth sound of much of the album with a reggae beat on this track, the result actually sounds much more interesting than it seems on paper.

Liza Minnelli - If There Was Love: From Liza's 1989 Results album, produced by the Pet Shop Boys. I probably needn't say much more, but to my mind, one of the great producer-artist pairings of that moment. I remember as a young gayling, Results being presented to me as a key part of my education in queer culture. The drama and resonance of Liza's voice in this song and the Pet Shop Boys' production and notably Neil Tennant's sharp personal lyricism here summarizes, to my ears, why that partnership worked so well. One of the song's key verses: "Men of affairs, women with power, satellites talking, to clutter our lives. Banks of predictions, policies made, prophecies broken, violence deranged..." Words which feel perhaps truer now than they did then. Culminating with a recitation of Shakespeare's Sonnet 94, while there are a number of great songs on the album, this is perhaps the one I go back to the most.


CATEGORIES: DISCO DELIVERY MIXES, DISCO DELIVERY EVENTS, CAN-CON DISCO

Friday, May 28, 2021

Vintage Articles:
Sean Lawrence's Discaire Column -
Kitchen Disco // Christopher Street - June 1979



Picking up where I left off a while back with some more transcriptions of Sean Lawrence’s short-lived Discaire columns in Christopher Street. The title of this second installment still feels appropriate, even 40 years later. Kitchen Disco - "the way one moves between the sofa and the dishwasher" has basically been the name of the game since the beginning of this pandemic.

Lawrence here has good words for Barry White’s The Message is Love, The Mighty Clouds of Joy and Linda Clifford; pans for Ashford & Simpson, Parlet, and especially the late Patrick Juvet’s Lady Night.

I’m not quite sharing the enthusiasm he has for Roberta Kelly’s gospel-disco album Feelin’ The Spirit (though “To My Father’s Houseis a standout on that one) and unlike Lawrence, I quite enjoyed Parlet’s Invasion of the Booty Snatchers (it’s lead track “Ridin’ High” is still a jam).

That being said, just like his earlier column, I'm enjoying the general position he writes from - in “the space between inspiration and camp,” as he so astutely puts it. His observation about disco and its relationship to nostalgia in the fifth paragraph is also spot on, in my view.

For now, enjoy this little time capsule..

____________________________________________





Discaire: Kitchen Disco

by Sean Lawrence

Barry White makes me feel sorry for the emotionally poverty-stricken of the world. What can someone who has a hard time squeezing just a little feeling out in life do in the face of a man like this—a man whose songs, musically and lyrically, are as understated as the flowers at a Mafia funeral? Barry White doesn’t just sit down at a piano—he arrives at it in a limousine, articulate as an anniversary card, uvula climaxing, hands and heart a-pounding. The news is that his new album on CBS’s Unlimited Gold label (JZ 35763) is surprisingly likeable.

   The Message Is Love (was it ever anything else?) is full of the romanticism of the overbearing. The album’s most successful songs (that is, most likely to touch the feelings of us mere mortals) are the ones in which White is vocally somewhat laid back. For those who see White as instant camp there are Roy Lichtenstein-type moments of self-dramatization and pop sentimentality. A couple of the melodies sound downright experimental for the normally predictable BW, and a couple are danceable even if they don’t qualify as heavy disco.

   Another occasionally danceable album in the gray area of off-disco is Changing Times (Epic JE 35971) by Mighty Clouds of Joy. Ostensibly commercial gospel music, Changing Times is a stirring album of songs sung to God and his/her reps on earth that can be danced to and enjoyed by atheists everywhere. I suspect that nowadays most people listen to gospel songs and think about their lovers (conversely, many of us listen to Barry Manilow singing about lovers and think of God). Changing Times is sometimes-perfect apartment/kitchen disco (one doesn’t really dance at home; the way one moves between the sofa and the dishwasher while listening to albums like Changing Times never works at overheated discos like Studio 54). The pared, unsynthesized gospel ruggedness and ripe voices working up a sweat on this album will be a pleasure to anyone used to disco superproduction. Like Barry White’s album, Changing Times inhabits the space between inspiration and camp where so many of us dance and think these days.

   It’s hard to say what space Patrick Juvet occupies (he sang last summer’s popular “I Love America”). I think Juvet’s producers want us to know he’s French, the way Claudine Longet’s producers wanted us to know she was French. In fact, Juvet even sounds a little like Longet. And Tiny Tim. I must admit, I’m somewhat prejudiced against Juvet. I once caught him on the Merv Griffin show and would easily deem him to be one of the more obnoxious talk-show presences of late. His new album, Lady Night (Casablanca NBLP 7148) is worse, a truly contemptuous (if not cretinous) work of non-art. Produced by Jacques Morali with a monotonous metronome, Lady Night is one of the most tiresome and grating albums you may be forced to listen to at the discos this summer. Even the one song transparently directed at “our” scene (“The ‘Gay Paris’”) is a boring co-optation.


Had Linda Clifford’s new two-record set, Let Me Be Your Woman (RSO RS-2-3902) been a one-record set including only “Bridge Over Troubled Water” and “It’s One of Those Songs,” each of which fills a side, the album would still have been a triumph. As head pompon girl in the hyper produced cheerleader arrangement of “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” Clifford seems almost as excited by life, love and show business as Barry White. Purists may say that discoizing this song is nothing short of sacrilege (in some ways disco treats the past with the same respect Punk Rock does), but I think it points out the schizzy nature of most disco rehashes—that is, the dancer divides his pleasure in two: the part he or she dances to at 120 thumps a minute and the evocation of the past the song reminds the dancer of. Disco is up to its neck in nostalgia; those who say that disco is mindless are simply out of touch with what disco is mindful of.

   And speaking of mindlessness and the past … recent disappointments include Ashford and Simpson’s “Flashback” single (Warner Bros. PRO-A-803), which at this moment is either in the hands of discaires or (as I suspect) in their wastebaskets. Ashford and Simpson have spent enough time in discos to know the beat better and the importance of innovation. “Flashback” is a bore. Equally disappointing is Parlet’s Invasion of the Booty Snatchers (Casablanca NBLP 7146), which sounds downright ugly.

On the brighter side, I am pleased to see the renewed interest in Roberta Kelly’s Gettin’ the Spirit (Casablanca NBLP 7089), which was released last year and somehow got buried commercially. “Oh Happy Day” was one of the five most nutritional songs to dance to at the Pines last August. Like some of the work of Donna Summer, Loleatta Holloway, and Grace Jones, Gettin’ the Spirit is a disco classic and deserves a second chance ■


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PREVIOUS RELATED ENTRIES:
vintage articles: sean lawrence’s discaire column: supply without demand // christopher street - may 1979 (sunday february 23, 2014)

LINKS:
wikipedia: barry white - the message is love (album)
discogs: barry white - the message is love lp
discogs: the mighty clouds of joy - changing times lp
discogs: patrick juvet - lady night lp
wikipedia: linda clifford - let me be your woman (album)
discogs: linda clifford - let me be your woman lp
discogs: ashford & simpson - flashback (promo 12” single)
wikipedia: parlet - invasion of the booty snatchers (album)
discogs: parlet - invasion of the booty snatchers lp


CATEGORIES: VINTAGE ARTICLES

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Disco Delivery #65:
Ms. Sharon Ridley - Full Moon (1978, Tabu/CBS)



"the sun is going down and the truth is the night..."

Sharon Ridley - You Beat Me To The Punch
Sharon Ridley - Just You and Me (Walking Along Together)
Sharon Ridley - Changin'
Sharon Ridley - Forever Yours
Sharon Ridley - Ode To My Daddy
Sharon Ridley - Ain't That Peculiar
Sharon Ridley - Guess I'm Gonna Have To Say Goodbye
Sharon Ridley - Nothing Else Means More To Me Than Our Love
Sharon Ridley - Full Moon

Out of the 60 some Disco Delivery posts thus far, this is probably the one which has the least in actual disco. In fact this record probably has more in common with quiet storm than disco itself, yet in that time between Smokey Robinson's coinage of the very term 'quiet storm' and its peak with the rise of Anita Baker and Luther Vandross, in one of those musical accidents that exists completely outside the official channels of promotion and hype; the lone single off this record - “Changin’” would end up finding its greatest audience through the skills of DJ heavyweights like Larry Levan, Robbie Leslie, Roy Thode and Bobby Viteritti in the gay discos. It would be one of the songs that would become emblematic of perhaps its most innovative height, when the gay disco scene existed not so much with a finger on the pulse, but in some ways, perhaps beyond it altogether.

Prior to this, Sharon Ridley had been a collaborator of the late Van McCoy, pre-Hustle, having recorded an earlier album with McCoy as producer, "Stay Awhile With Me" in 1971 for industry impresario Clarence Avant's ill-fated Sussex label. While Avant remains one of the most powerful figures in the music industry today; prior to the label’s messy bankruptcy, through Sussex, Avant had brought artists like Zulema, Bill Withers, Dennis Coffey and the much lauded Sixto Rodriguez - subject of the recent award-winning documentary "Searching for Sugar Man" to the forefront. After her Sussex album, aside from a couple of solo singles, Van McCoy and Ridley apparently inked what was optimistically called a “long-term recording contract” as reported in Billboard and Variety with Joel Diamond's Silver Blue label, apparently as a duo act, which never fully materialized (perhaps due to the take off of Van McCoy's own career) beyond a lone single - “I’m In Your Corner,” in 1973.

Not long after the demise of Sussex, Clarence Avant would go off on his next label venture, establishing Tabu Records. Prior to their success with the SOS Band and Jam & Lewis protégés Cherrelle and Alexander O’Neal, Tabu’s roster at the time was dominated by their breakout act, Brainstorm along with Trini jazz guitarist Michael Boothman and noted film composer Lalo Schifrin. Also among the label’s roster were former Sussex acts Jim Gold (who, like Sixto Rodriguez, was produced by Dennis Coffey and Mike Theodore who’d go on to make their own mark in disco) and Sharon Ridley. Ridley, it seems, would be among those who would have little mileage with the label, recording this lone album for Tabu before seemingly retreating from the industry altogether.

Like many others, I had first heard of Sharon Ridley through "Changin'," a ballad that would become without question, one of the penultimate classics in the great morning music/sleaze tradition in the gay discos. Sleaze, for those who may not be familiar, was not necessarily named for being ‘sleazy’ as the name may have implied, but for the slower, melodic, often emotional vocal quality of the early morning cool-down sets, of love songs extolling both its agony and ecstasy in what is perhaps one of the ultimate testimonials to the artistry of the DJs who championed it.

Initially though, for me it was purely by proxy. In 2001, at a time when I was just beginning to fully acquaint myself with disco, my first time hearing “Changin’” was through Linda Clifford’s Ralphi Rosario-produced cover. Combining some of the major forces of the disco era: the late Mel Cheren, founder of West End Records then in the process of reinvigorating his long dormant label with one of the top divas of disco, Linda Clifford, covering one of both Mel and Larry Levan's favourite songs, Linda Clifford's version was something of a landmark release at the time. With its attendant 8 remix single package, it seemed specially targeted to both back in the day disco queens and their turn of the millennium circuit party forerunners. Even though I didn’t exactly fall into either of those categories, having already known and loved many of Linda Clifford’s classic records by that time, along with their then recent package of Larry Levan’s West End remixes, I wasn't about to pass this one over.

When I finally heard and compared Sharon Ridley’s version for myself, not knowing anything about 'sleaze', I had been surprised at how completely unlike the Linda Clifford remake it was. Despite the overarching sense of conceptual continuity between them; with Linda’s peak hour versions giving off sass where Sharon was reflective, Sharon and Linda’s takes feel almost like opposite versions of the same song. Not to slight Linda Clifford in this case, but while perhaps a creative way to school (then) new audiences about a great singer, label and legacy; the emotional power of Ridley’s version remained then and still today undiminished in all its heartfelt, understated early morning glory.

Finally having bought a copy of Sharon's "Full Moon" album nearly a decade later, in late 2010, only served to deepen my appreciation for “Changin’” and the wider work of Ms. Ridley. Not having heard anything else from the album, it was practically a blind buy on my part (and hardly the cheapest of them either), but like the best of them, "Full Moon" has become more than just another record I own, but one of those special records that one takes to their heart.

Produced by Jerry Peters, a producer whose credits have spanned across both the R&B and Jazz worlds for artists like Phyllis Hyman, Syreeta, Deniece Williams, Ronnie Foster, Gene Harris and perhaps most notably in the disco world - Tabu labelmates Brainstorm and their hit “Lovin’ Is Really My Game,” this album feels slotted right in the middle of the disco-funk of Brainstorm and the fusion jazz of some of the other Tabu acts of the time. Peters surrounds these songs the kind of backing that takes his jazz experience and his work with the likes of Hyman and Williams, into crafting what have to be the richest, warmest surroundings ever given to Sharon’s voice.

At around 6 and a half minutes in length, longer than any of the other songs on the album, “Changin’” seems to have been singled out early on as one of the album’s centrepieces. From its opening notes and Sharon’s gently drawn-out phrasing, if there was ever an ideal theme for the sleaze ethos, or the agony and ecstasy of love and the many complex and conflicting emotions at the end of a relationship, it is this. As a portrait of the end of love - the gratitude, the regret, the good and bad memories; listening to Sharon feel her way through these lyrics makes this seem like a guide to the relationship grieving process in song. As music journalist Brian Chin once described it, Ridley’s vocals “convey regret, but she doesn't sound all that broken-hearted." While there’s a definite sadness here, it’s not of the kind of sadness that renders the woman completely hopeless without her long-gone love, nor is it the sadness of the wronged woman who comes out utterly self-reliant and defiant, wishing she never loved at all, but the sadness that comes with the end of any relationship that has been invested with love, a love that had changed, but won’t - that can’t - simply extinguish itself, even when it has run its inevitable course. This is a song for those endings when the road apart seems daunting, but the emotional reality of the situation, even more so; for all those endings and new beginnings, when love is no longer enough and there's no choice but to move on; with sadness, perhaps, but without regret.

Although "Changin'" never did receive a 12" single release when it originally came out (both a Canadian 12" and another in the Mixed Masters series came later), an extended 8.56 edit, originally done for Hot Tracks in 1984 does exist, which has since been circulating on a bootlegged white label 12".

As far as cover versions go, aside from Linda Clifford’s 2001 version, the late Esther Phillips would cover this song a few years later on her album “Good Black Is Hard to Crack” (1981, Mercury), produced by Benny Golson. In 2004, rapper Xzibit and producer Thayod Ausar would sample the opening notes of “Changin’” for the track “Back 2 The Way It Was” on Xzibit's album "Weapons of Mass Destruction" (2004, Columbia).

Although as the first version released, I've always considered Sharon Ridley’s version the original; one of the writers of the song, James McClelland - better known in Soul circles as Jesse James, recorded the earliest version of this song. Then titled, “I Feel Your Love Changing,” James had recorded his version in 1975 while under contract to the 20th Century label, which remained unreleased until 2010, when the Soul Junction label in the UK released it on 7”, later including it on their compilation of James' work, “Let Me Show You” (2012, Soul Junction).


Jesse James - I Feel Your Love Changing
Uploaded by Mark Speakman


James’ version, straddling the line between the rougher, rawer Northern Soul sound and the more polished sheen of 70's Modern Soul, also carries some subtle and not so subtle differences in interpretation. Where Sharon’s interpretation was, to a point, more impartial; a plea for a mature, even amicable parting of ways amid the sadness, James’ version feels like an impassioned plea to salvage what has been broken. Though Sharon may have portrayed a woman who was wronged, whatever her feelings, she doesn’t necessarily place herself as a victim here. Sharon seems to approach the song as a woman who's made her choice and is at peace with it; whereas James’ version, with its desperate vocal, feels more like a portrait of a man's inner turmoil; grappling with all the changes he's been put through, knows he's at a crossroads, but not quite ready to leave it all behind. Perhaps one of the reasons why the writing credits differ slightly across both the Jesse James and Sharon Ridley versions. While James McClelland/Jesse James is credited on both, producer Jerry Peters and background singer Lynn Mack get additional credit on Sharon’s version. Musical similarities notwithstanding, while they may not be entirely different songs altogether, they’re not entirely the same, either.

Though "Changin'" completely eclipsed the rest of the record in terms of recognition, in the context of the album itself, the whole thing is so uniformly strong that not even a song like "Changin'" can completely overshadow anything else on offer here in terms of strength, quality or feeling. Though the record includes a couple of originally executed Smokey Robinson-penned Motown covers, the Robinson connection dovetailing ever so appropriately with its quiet storm credentials, opening with Mary Wells' "You Beat Me To The Punch" and later on in side two with a version of Marvin Gaye's "Ain't That Peculiar," the real moments here are the originals, which with the exception of "Changin'," were all written by Ridley herself, where the record's intimacy really takes shape. While "Changin'" was the invitation and the welcome, Sharon's songs are the full experience here. The album's centre, both literally and figuratively, "Forever Yours" and "Ode To My Daddy" are both delivered with a tenderness that manages to be both moving and personal without feeling overbearing. The latter - “Ode to My Daddy” - humble in title but as personal and specific as it gets, out of all the songs on the album, this is one which in it’s own unassuming way, cuts straight to the heart. Singing about grief as adeptly and sensitively as she sang about the parting of lovers in “Changin’;” as a eulogy in song, whether or not one has experienced the loss of a parent, her lyrics summarize the feelings of love, loss and regret with an emotional clarity and honesty that’ll take you there, to that moment, whether you’ve already been there or not.

"Forever Yours" is yet another, right on the heels of "Changin'" that's so good it felt practically wasted at only half the time. Having opened with the most splendorous of orchestral intros, carried forth with an impossible to forget "darling, forever.." refrain, it's one moment that felt like it deserved to be elaborated on just a bit more than its allotted three minutes (and probably would have had it not been the time limitations of vinyl). I, for one, would have gladly traded at least one of the album's Motown covers for a few more moments of this.

Ridley's ability to cultivate these moments of warmth and intimacy out of what seem to be the subjects of seemingly simple love songs is perhaps best experienced as she tells us how "Nothing Else Means More To Me Than Our Love." With all the attendant hopes, dreams and tender surrender of a love letter written to music, Ridley imbues a line like "the only love I found that lets me be me, that lets me feel free" with a knowing sincerity that would be almost innocent if her voice didn't carry the weight of someone who had seen and felt enough disappointment to know better. That she seems to hold back from a full vocal release until the very end only makes that emotional surrender feel all the more true.

Musically, the the jazz influence is most apparent on the title track, “Full Moon,” perfectly placed as the concluding track on the record. A song of escape and wild desire, appropriately enough, it’s perhaps the most musically adventurous song on the record with it and “Guess I’m Gonna Have to Say Goodbye” being the closest things to uptempo tracks on the album. Although perhaps too jazz-oriented for either to have any actual disco traction, both, particularly the former contain some of the record's most stunning, intricate guitar work.

Like many disco or disco-associated acts of a similar vintage, I had become fascinated not just by the music in this album, but also by the complete enigma that seemed to surround it. In this case, this wasn't some anonymous studio group or singer whose mystery was purely by design, this was someone who had crafted an intimate piece of work and then disappeared just as she had left her mark - perhaps not on any Billboard chart, but certainly in the hearts of the many early morning dancers who wound down long marathon nights at legendary venues like The Saint or the Paradise Garage (as divergent as they were) to the emotional currents of this song. The fact that this seemed to go without any sort of acknowledgement, of who Sharon Ridley was, what ever happened to her and whether or not she was aware of how many people loved and still treasure her song, only seemed to cement its emotional and material value.

Sharon Ridley had a special way with the material here, originals and covers alike - an easy, graceful sincerity; an approach which feels exceedingly rare, out of place and even down-right old-fashioned today, where most things tend to fall into either distant posturing, irony or overblown bombast. Meeting us half-way between the warmth of Brenda Russell and the smooth touch of Anita Baker, much like Russell and Baker, Ridley had an underrated ability to present songs in a way that can be both disarmingly personal and heartfelt without crossing over into cloying schmaltz. Paired with the production of Jerry Peters, they capture a sound here that's gentle and inviting yet still musically sharp.

While Sharon doesn’t seem to have much in the way of musical credits following the release of “Full Moon,” the lady is apparently still around, performing regularly as a jazz pianist in LA at least as recently as July of last year. Surely she must know she has some fans out there.

More recently the Demon Music Group in the UK, the same people behind the Harmless label and their excellent Disco Discharge and Disco Recharge series have acquired the license to the Tabu label catalogue. While a reissue program is in the works, set to kick off with some of the label's best known acts like the SOS band, Alexander O'Neal and Cherrelle, here's hoping the lingering boom in disco related reissues will also have them reaching back and revisiting this album so it too can be appreciated all over again. While “Full Moon” would end up in the 50-cent cut-out bins several years after its release, copies of the album have been known to fetch anywhere from $30-$90 US online in recent years. Which, admittedly, is nothing next to what people have paid for the bootleg white label of "Changin'."

Whether an album like this would have been better received if it had been released several years later is perhaps anyone’s guess, however nothing can take away from the hidden strength of this record and the gentle force of Ms. Sharon Ridley's vocals. For as far as they're concerned, time hasn't taken anything away here, it has only made their feeling all the more palpable. To paraphrase a bit from the old Tabu label slogan, this is one album that can be described as 'music, for those who listen.'


PREVIOUS RELATED ENTRIES:
DISCO DISCHARGE AND OTHER RECENT/UPCOMING DISCO RELEASES & REISSUES (FRIDAY SEPTEMBER 18, 2009)
CHANGE (THURSDAY NOVEMBER 6, 2008)
BOBBY VITERITTI - A NIGHT AT THE TROCADERO.. (SUNDAY SEPTEMBER 30, 2007)
IT JUST MIGHT TAKE ALL NIGHT.. (FRIDAY AUGUST 3, 2007)
DISCO DELIVERY #42: SOUTHERN EXPOSURE - HEADIN' SOUTH (1979, RCA) (MONDAY JUNE 4, 2007)
DEEP CUTS (WEDNESDAY APRIL 18, 2007)
DISCO DELIVERY #19: THE MIKE THEODORE ORCHESTRA - HIGH ON MAD MOUNTAIN (1979, WESTBOUND/ATLANTIC) (SUNDAY MAY 14, 2006)

LINKS:
DISCOGS: MS. (SHARON) RIDLEY - FULL MOON LP
DISCOGS: SHARON RIDLEY - CHANGIN' (BOOTLEG 12")
DISCOGS: JERRY PETERS
SOUL JUNCTION RECORDS: JESSE JAMES - I FEEL YOUR LOVE CHANGING 7"
DISCO VINYL: CHANGIN - MS. SHARON RIDLEY. THE ULTIMATE MORNING MUSIC SONG (MONDAY MAY 4, 2009)
THE ORIGINAL SOUL 4 LIFE: SHARON RIDLEY - FULL MOON (TUESDAY FEBRUARY 17, 2009)
BURP AND SLURP: DOWNTOWN IN THE NEW ORLEANS (JANUARY 11, 2012)
THE ENTERTAINMENT AGENCY - SHARON RIDLEY
PITCHFORK: THE QUIET STORM (BY ERIC HARVEY) (MAY 15, 2012)
FACEBOOK: TABU RECORDS OFFICIAL FACEBOOK PAGE (RE-BORN FOR 2013)

CATEGORIES: DISCO DELIVERIES, WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO..

Friday, March 10, 2006

Disco Delivery #10:
Linda Clifford - If My Friends Could See Me Now (1978, Curtom/Warner Bros.)



Linda Clifford - If My Friends Could See Me Now (LP Version)
Linda Clifford - Runaway Love (12" Version)
Linda Clifford - You Are, You Are
Linda Clifford - Gypsy Lady

Chicago's own Linda Clifford had her breakout disco hit with a cover of "If My Friends Could See Me Now," originally from the musical Sweet Charity. I know for some (myself included) the thought of bringing musical theatre to the dancefloor just screams "CAMP." So perhaps this song might be a bit campy for some, but in my opinion it's nothing short of a disco tour-de-force. Excellent, layered production with strings, soft synths, lively vocals and just a tremendous buildup. In a way this song couldn't have been more appropriate for Ms. Clifford; the singles off this album pretty much cemented a prominent place for her in dance music and paved the way for several more disco hits. Prior to this, she had released some singles on the Polydor and Paramount labels before signing to Curtis Mayfield's Curtom label. Her initial singles on the Curtom label were classy, soulful R&B as was much of her first album (1977's "Linda") but none quite hit the way this did.

The biggest hit off this album would be "Runaway Love," which would reach not only the top of the disco charts, but the top of the R&B charts as well. "Runaway Love" was a move away from the style of the title track and into a more solid groove, highlighted by a sassy, slightly Millie Jackson-esque spoken word section towards the end. In this song Ms. Linda goes on telling off her broke, jive-talkin', cheating no-good dog of a man to run out of her life once and for all 'cause she "ain't got no heartaches to spare.".. What can I say? Once again, I just can't resist a sassy disco diva.. The Jim Burgess 12" mix brings it all the way up to 9.45 with a slightly extended spoken portion and a generally more layered mix. Some of those background instruments get brought up front a little more on the 12", particularly some of that awesome percussion two-thirds of the way through. To me this is one of those songs that really captured her voice at it's best. While Linda was never a multi-octave wailer, she seemed to make the most out of what she had. At her best, her voice was like on this track, a flawless blend of sass, soul and class all in one.

Another highlight of the album is her version of Curtis Mayfield's "You Are, You Are," produced by Mayfield himself. For sure one of my favourites by Curtis Mayfield just because it's one of those songs that seems to radiate pure love and happiness from every note and lyric. That said, for me Linda's version is the definitive one. Her interpretation just has a certain grace and sincerity to it. That's not to say that Mayfield's own version isn't sincere, but Linda's vocal just seems to resonate more strongly.

The album ends on a high note with "Gypsy Lady," another great disco track. Produced by Motown veteran Gil Askey and Curtis Mayfield, it's another song about hitting the big time and jet-setting the world like an international gypsy. Sort of a sequel, at least in theme, to "If My Friends Could See Me Now." It's not as all-out as the title track, but it's got a great prominent popping bassline and a dramatic Spanish flamenco flavour in those horns.

The bulk of the album (aside from "You Are, You Are" and "Gypsy Lady") was produced by Gil Askey, who would also go on to produce her follow-up album "Let Me Be Your Woman" (1979, Curtom), on which they would kick up the disco quotient considerably. This album though, as a whole, is just one of those excellent, cohesive records that's completely listenable from beginning to end. Personally, I don't think Linda has released a bad album, but among all of them, this has to be one of her best.

A little bit of trivia: The backup vocals on this album are by none other than The Jones Girls, who, in the following year, would have a hit of their own..

If anyone wants to have this album on CD, I'd recommend tracking down the 2-in-1 album sets that were released by Sequel Records in 1999 as opposed to the recent stand-alone reissue of this album. All of Linda's Curtom albums were released on these double-sets so they're well worth tracking down if you like her stuff. Unfortunately they've gone out of print, but copies still show up on Amazon marketplace, eBay and GEMM from time to time..

** Fresh new link: Visit Spicy Pimps... Thanks for linking me!

LINKS:
LINDA CLIFFORD @ DISCOMUSEUM.COM
LINDA CLIFFORD - IF MY FRIENDS COULD SEE ME NOW LP (REVIEW) @ ALLMUSIC.COM
LINDA CLIFFORD - IF MY FRIENDS COULD SEE ME NOW LP @ DISCOMUSIC.COM
LINDA CLIFFORD - IF MY FRIENDS COULD SEE ME NOW 12" @ DISCOMUSIC.COM
LINDA CLIFFORD - RUNAWAY LOVE 12" @ DISCOMUSIC.COM

PURCHASE:
LINDA CLIFFORD - LINDA/IF MY FRIENDS COULD SEE ME NOW 2 CD @ AMAZON.COM
LINDA CLIFFORD - IF MY FRIENDS COULD SEE ME NOW CD (2005 REISSUE) @ AMAZON.CO.UK
LINDA CLIFFORD - IF MY FRIENDS COULD SEE ME NOW CD (2005 REISSUE) @ AMAZON.COM

CATEGORIES: DISCO DELIVERIES, PAST REISSUES

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