Bound To Happen

Clarence Reid: Nobody But You Babe
from Dancin' With Nobody But You Babe (Atlantic 1969)

William Bell: I Forgot To Be Your Lover
from Bound to Happen (Stax 1969)


One of the more beautiful aspects about spring in Southern California is the ability to kick back under the sun and have the cool breeze of the beach winds dance on your skin and through your hair while you drink ice cold coronas from an ice filled cooler and barely break a sweat all while you listen to music so funky and so moving you can't help but play them over and over again. For those who have never had this small luxury of life I wish I could help you experience it but since I can't provide everything needed to fulfill this I can at least provide a bit of a soundtrack for this idyllic image.

Clarence Reid's Nobody But You Babe is funky piece of spring swag. It's not exactly a song that you wanna kick back and smoke an el to, but for those peak spring afternoons when you get too lazy to get up out of the lawn chair, it's the perfect toe tapper to accompany you as you move past the hump of the noon day sun. Just as well known under his alias Blowfly, Reid drives the song with a heeeeavy guitar break and stabbing horns that works it's way up to the bridge, at which point he then ups the funk meter by a good 10,000. If your head isn't nodding ten seconds into the start of the song I would strongly suggest you check your pulse or get out into the sun a little longer to invigorate your spirit.

The second song is nowadys just as recognizable from being sampled on the Alchemist produced track for Dilated Peoples, Worse Comes To Worse, as it is for being a top ten hit for Bell in '68. Lugubrious and doleful, Bell's voice cuts through the song and gains more pity backed by a bluesy guitar than it has any right to. This is the song you listen to as your spring excursion comes to an end and as the sun turns to to it's dusky faded yellow. A perfect song to break out the hookah and fire it up to, or to just close your eyes and let the liquor subdue your mind.

Diggin' In The Cassingles Crate Part Tre

Nice & Smooth: Hip Hop Junkies (Spanish Fly Mix)
from Hip Hop Junkies cassette single (RAL/Columbia 1991)

King Tee: Can This Be Real
from Act A Fool cassette single (Capitol 1989)


One of my guilty pleasures in life is bumping Ain't A Damn Thing Changed whenever I come home drunk and depressed. There's something about the stripped down beats, odd harmonizing, questionable lyrics and the vocal wordplay between Greg Nice and Smooth B that is so unique it's almost ameliorating, and I know I'm not the only one as De La did a spot-on homage (or parody depending on how you view the content of their lyrics) in their song Simply and of course there's the classic Dwyck that is arguably the best Hip Hop song ever. While the simplicity of their songs can be thought of as a weakness, it's probably the best thing they have going for them and Greg Nice as a producer is mildly impressive flipping The Partridge Family's I Think I Love You to open the song posted here, and more impressively taking the Tracy Chapman song Fast Car and sampling it for Sometimes I Rhyme Slow. The Spanish Fly Mix of Hip Hop Junkies is the song on that big ole spanish booty tip with a funky flute sample that adds the right amount of energy to a song that in it's original form was a little more downtempo. Despite the awkward spanish delivery of their lyrics this song is still a banger. Do like me and bump it when you start to get tipsy and it's guaranteed to get your head nodding.

King Tee's Can This Be Real is a classic DJ Pooh production from it's banging drums courtesy of The Meters to the heavy bassline, it's like these two were meant to be together. King Tee during the late 80's-early 90's was definitely holding it down with that LA Posse sound and his articulate delivery, it's a shame that he was overlooked later on and even signed and dropped by Dre's label but that seems to be the fate of all the former greats. Funny thing is, back in the days I used to constantly listen to the b-side of this single because it had the classic Act A Fool and I almost never got past that song, so I didn't rediscover Can This Be Real till I dusted off the tape and put it in the walkman (you all remember those, right?) and was surprised at how well the song held up, especially considering it was the b-side of a damn good song. And if you're interested Can I Bring My Gat has a couple of Pooh selections up as of this writing.

I'd Call That A Bargain The Best I Ever Had

The Lovelites: How Can I Tell My Mom And Dad
from Art Laboe's Dedicated to You, Vol. 2 (Original Sound 1992)

Solomon Burke: If You Need Me
from Rock and Soul (Atlantic 1964) also on Solid Gold Soul: Deep Soul (Rhino Records 2000)

Vicki Anderson: The Message From The Soul Sisters, Parts 1 & 2
from 20th Century Masters - The Millennium Collection: The Best of James Brown, Vol. 3 (Polydor 2005)


With prices of CD's ranging anywhere from twelve dollars (and that's usually a bargain) to nineteen dollars, it really is no surprise that illegal downloads and a la carte music services get more internet traffic than the financially troubled Tower Records get foot traffic. But all's not lost for that dying breed of consumer, the CD purchaser. When albums fail to hold your interest for more than the two or three songs that are earmarked for single consumption, you can always turn to the compilation album. Made most noticeable with the MTV compilation series, these types of CD's can be a blessing in disguise. If you buy the right ones, you're usually blessed with a couple of diamonds in the rough.

For example the Art Laboe series of CD's. His Dedicated To You series has been around for a bit and practically all of the CD's have something for the old school head in all of us. The first track I present here is from his Vol. 2 of the series and is from the underappreciated group The Lovelites (not to be confused with the Phil Spector backed group of the same name). The song which is about teenage pregnancy, and predates Madonnas song on the same subject by 20 years, is pretty racy for it's time. It's slow langorous opening sets up your standard fare of 60's female r&b harmonizing but the song still builds nicely and makes a pretty poignant point about the mistakes of youth. Particularly enjoyable is the breakdown after the second verse with it's emotive guitar break and smooth bass line.

The second track is from the inimitable Solomon Burke and if ever there was a track that exudes smoky chitlin circuit soul this song has to be it. From the thick guitars to the "pitchy" (I hate that word) background singers and the monologue that expectedly comes in during the break, this song works on one level, the get-out-of-your-pants-and-let's-get-it-on level, and it works it down to tthe very end of the song. His passionate wailing cuts right to the essence of the song, and the beautiful thing about Burke is how every one of his recordings gush with the same passion.

The last track is from Vicki Anderson, whom most people would recognize as the understudy to the great Lyn Collins in the James Brown diva hierarchy. This is a by the numbers James Brown production piece which means that it's funkier than almost every other song put out at the same time. With it's rolling piano and the frenetic horns backing the message of female empowerment the song immediately takes charge with Vicki proselytyzing about being looked over. While not as strong a singer as Lyn Collins, Vicki Anderson is still a very capable performer and is strong enough vocally to run with the big boys that are backing her.

It's Been A Long Time

So I've weathered the storm and made it through relatively unscathed. I'd like to thank everyone who has stuck by me and for the kind words. Needless to say, I'm going to try to catch up and make up for the lost time. Computer has been fixed, personal problems have been put aside and the green light has been given, so bear with me as I clean up the dust and prepare for the long journey ahead.

We Are Experiencing Some Technical Difficulties

For those few people who actually visit this site, I want to send a big thank you and a sincere apology for not having updated in a minute. Some personal things (nothing difficult) and some computer woes have sidelined me for a bit and I won't be able to update, most likely until the end of this week (5/21 thereabouts). I promise to come back with a bang, or at the very least a whimper. And if you're craving for some really good music, visit the links that I provide to your right. They're guaranteed to not steer you wrong, or I wouldn't have linked to them.

A Few Of The Unpleasant'st Words That Ever Blotted Paper

Shel Silverstein: Father of a Boy Named Sue
from Songs & Stories (Parachute 1972)

Blowfly: Gemini- I Know a Place
from Zodiac (Hot Productions 1996)

Rudy Ray Moore: The Player
from The Player-The Hustler (Kent 1977) and Raw, Rude & Real (Capitol 2001)



If you only know Shel Silverstein because of his childrens books like The Giving Tree then hearing some of his satirical folk songs is a lesson in discovery. Having penned over 800 songs for such artists as Dr. Hook and Johnny Cash, his two albums Freakin At The Freakers Ball and Songs And Stories take him back to his days as a political satirist for Playboy, where he first made a name for himself. A Boy Named Sue is grossly comedic and so flauntingly in your face that listening to the tale of homosexual incest you can't help but laugh. Told as suredly and as comfortably as he would recite one of his childrens poems, this song is definitely for those who like dark humor.

The second track is from Blowfly's album Zodiac and is his raunchy version of the Staple Singers classic I'll Take You There. Although not a great blue comedian (he was, in my opinion, many steps behind Redd Foxx, Pigmeat Markham and Rudy Ray Moore just to name a few) he did carve out a niche for himself reinterpreting popular songs with an adult twist like the scatological Shittin' On The Dock Of The Bay or The First Time You Ever Sucked My Dick. The song would often be followed up by his theme song which, if you listen to his albums the whole way through, can bog you down with just how fatuous as a whole his albums are.

Last but definitely not least is the self proclaimed King of the Party Records Rudy Ray Moore. More famously known as Dolemite he started his career off as a singer and dancer and graduated to comedian through his wild interpretations of black folk tales like Stagolee or Peetie Wheatstraw. The Player is Rudy doing what he does best, rapping to a raucous audience about such philosophical musings as the correlation between penis size and race or mastubatory technique. His gruff voice lends itself well to his comedic routine and it's no surprise that you can, in this one routine, find a lot of sources for Hip-Hop vocal samples.