I love the Dells. Formed in 1952, their career is simply epic. But my favorite period for them was ushered in with Charles Stepney. Unfortunately, as Chess Records (their label from the mid-sixties till the mid-seventies) crumbled, their hits (which include “There Is”, “Stay in my Corner”, “The Love We Had Stays on My Mind”, “Oh What a Night” and more) were harder to come by.
By 1973, The Dells, still at Cadet Records (a Chess Subsidiary), were recording work with a Detroit/Memphis lean. Tony Hester, who came from Detroit to Memphis, wrote and produced The Dramatics’ biggest album (“Whatcha See is Whatcha Get”) and subsequent Dramatics outings. Don Davis is a legend, producing for various Detroit acts (some of which, like Darrell Banks, were released on Memphis’ Volt Records), and ultimately working throughout the world of Soul.
With such a team behind them, The Dells (with lusciously gruff Marvin Junior on Baritone Lead) couldn’t help but come up with this gold. Jive on!
Minnie Ripertonwas, of course, so much more than her 1976 smash “Loving You”. I won’t even attempt to jam her legacy into a blog post. She was a mother (to SNL alum Maya Rudolph), a lover, (to Dick Rudolph) and a righteous songbird. Riperton (pictured above, 1968 [photo courtesy jeff lockard]) and her soaring soprano were featured in the Rock-Soul outfit Rotary Connection. Rotary Connection was the jazzy soulful dirty hippie baby of genius producer Charles Stepney and Marshall Chess (son of Chess Records founder Leonard Chess, and a visionary in his own right).
Certainly their most anthologized track is “I am the Black Gold of the Sun” (above), but each of their albums produced its crop of nuggets (my favorites are “Songs”, “Hey Love”, and “Aladdin”). The sound was a cross-section of Rock, Gospel, Soul, and Jazz nearly as big as the City of Big Shoulders that spawned it. Featuring Minnie Riperton on lead vocals for a number of their cuts, her other-worldly wails are the sound that almost never was.
Below, my short audio interview with Sidney Barnes of Rotary Connection (pictured far right), on how Minnie Riperton got the strength to embrace her own voice in the days when sopranos weren’t considered soulful.
I just found a copy of “Woman of the Ghetto” by Marlena Shaw for 4 bucks! Killer Chicago recording from 1969. The song has been sampled multiple times, among them:
St. Germain sampled from “Woman of the Ghetto” from Live at Montreux used in “Rose Rouge” on Tourist (2000)
9th Wonder and Buckshot also sampled “Woman of the Ghetto” in the track “Ghetto”, and Evil Dee (of Black Moon)’s remix of the same song.
Early integration of a Kalimba in popular western music. Richard Evans production. Jazzy Funk mastery. Lyrics below. Nuff said.
I was born, raised in a ghetto
I was born and raised in a ghetto
I’m a woman, of the ghetto
Won’t you listen, won’t you listen to me, legislator?
(ging, gi-gi-gi-gi-ging…)
How do you raise your kids in a ghetto?
How do you raise your kids in a ghetto?
Do you feed one child and starve another?
Won’t you tell me, legislator?
How do make your bread in the ghetto?
How do make your bread in the ghetto?
Baked from the souls in the ghetto
Tell me, tell me, Legislator?
Strong true,
my eyes ain’t blue
I am a woman
Of the ghetto
I’m proud, free,
Black, that is me
But I’m a woman of the ghetto
(ging, gi-gi-gi-gi-ging…)
How do we get rid of rats in the ghetto?
How do we get rid of rats in the ghetto?
Do we make one black and one white in the ghetto?
Is that your answer, legislator?
How do you legislate, brother?
How do you legislate, brother?
When you free one man and try to chain up another,
Tell me, Tell me legislator?
How does your heart feel late at night?
How does your heart feel late at night?
Does it beat with shame, or does it beat with pride?
Won’t you tell me, legislator?
(na-na-na-na-na-na-na, …)
My children learned just the same as yours
As long as nobody tries to close the door
They cry with pain when the knife cuts deep
They even close their eyes when they wanna sleep
We must all have identity
That’s the only way that we can be free
Now peace, you say
is all that you ask
But self-respect is a separate task
You may be sitting up there
in your ivory tower
60 stories tall
Now you may have seen at least one ghetto
But I wonder have you lived there at all?
Places like Watts,
ah, Detroit, tell me
Chicago, ah tell me,
Here’s a tasty slice of funk from the Duke of Earl himself, Gene Chandler. Masterfully dapper, ever-so-smooth, Chandler gets funky on this Checker side from 1969. An early version of the Curtis Mayfield-penned track titled “Hard Times”, the record manifests a ‘creature feature’ vibe that’s fits this time of year like a rubber mask.
An alumnus of Englewood High School, Chandler is one of the founding fathers of Chicago Soul, having begun recording around 1960. Click here for my interview with him. You can’t see it, but that day he wore an O.G. diamond encrusted pinky ring that read “Gene”. Smooth.
I remember where I was when I first heard this: the local round-the-way record store. The carpet was checkered with the maytag logo in bittersweet on brown (harkening back to the store’s past life). There we stood in a communal experience that began with the shop owner saying, “You’ve got to hear this record”. We stood waiting. Waiting melted away to awe. Nine minutes later we knew life was a bit different…just wait for the progression of the track. It blossoms and eventually bursts.
“Dancing Girl” is from the album, “What Color is Love” (Cadet, 1973). A great record for a chilled autumn day.
Terry Callier was a childhood friend of Curtis Mayfield and co-wrote numerous Chicago Records for artists as diverse as the Soulful Strings, The Dells, and Garland Green. He spent much of the eighties and nineties as a single father, raising his daughter, Sundiata, and working at the University of Chicago.
He returned to recording in the late nineties to critical acclaim, and released “Hidden Conversations” (his fifth album in 10 years) this year. It features Massive Attack.
Summer has left our once-warm grasp. In memorium, Darkjive presents Chess Records’ Billy Stewart with a 1966 version of the classic song “Summertime” (from Porgy and Bess). I love how Billy Stewart’s scats interplay with insistent horns and halting guitar licks. The drummer on the cut is a very young Maurice White (of Earth, Wind, and Fire).
Originally from Washington, D.C., Stewart scored a string of hits in the mid sixties with Chicago record label Chess, including “I Do Love You”, “Fat Boy”, and “Sitting in the Park”. He died just shy of his 33rd birthday when his car plunged into a North Carolina river, alongside three of his bandmates. Billy Stewart’s “Summertime”: Fruitful, fleeting talent singing the praises of a fruitful, fleeting season.
“Evil”. A fundamental Howlin Wolf record, created here in Chicago, back in the 1950s. A platter of standard electrified Delta Blues. Now, add Marshall Chess (son of Chess Records’ Leonard Chess), the turbulent and psychedelic 1960s, and some of the best jazz, funk, and soul studio players in the city. Remake and enjoy.
Well that’s not exactly true. Howlin Wolf (above) didn’t like the remake. Actually, the first album of such remakes, released on Chess Records’ Cadet Concept label was called:
‘This is Howlin’ Wolf’s
new album.
He doesn’t like it.
He didn’t like his electric
guitar at first either.’
The album, the brainchild of Marshall Chess, was a product of the times. In the sixties, white rock groups from America and the UK were gangstering Chicago Blues records. They remade them nearly word for word and listed themselves as artists, thus robbing originators like Howlin Wolf and Muddy Waters out of royalties. Chess decided to re-record the artists performing their own compositions in a then-contemporary psychedelic blues style. The albums were panned by purist critics, the same critics that called white psychedelic blues artists like Cream “visionary”.
But, I like it. And I hope you do, too. For info on Muddy Waters’ psychedelic blues remakes, click here.
The late sixties in Chicago was a wild time. The Democratic National Convention and the Riots in 1968 labeled us as unruly, Serial Killer Richard Speckin 1966 labeled us as unsafe, and Martin Luther King, Jr., (marching in North Lawndale for equal housing in 1966), labeled us as a place that “The people of Mississippi ought to come to….to learn how to hate”. And yet we created such sweet music…
Roaring blues, sophisticated jazz, gritty garage rock, smoothed out vocal pop, and shimmering soul (among other genres) all “jus grew” here. Chess Records (based near 22nd and Michigan) was, in fact, the epicenter of the Electrified Delta Blues that changed the sound of popular American music FOREVER. That was the music that served as rock-and-roll’s bassinet. So it was no surprise that Chess Records, nearing the end of the 1960s and reinvigorated with fresh young talent (producer/arranger Charles Stepney, drummer Morris Jennings, and guitarist Phil Upchurch among them), decided to have their living legend artists (i.e. Muddy Waters and Howling Wolf) re-record their groundbreaking 1950s work in an updated funky psychedelic blues style.
White psychedelic rock artists had been ripping off their artists’ work for years. Now they were, in effect, reworking their own art. Muddy and Wolf weren’t feeling it. Critics of the day panned the works. Yet, today, the albums born out of this time (including “Electric Mud”) have an almost cultish following. Produced by Marshall Chess and the legendary Gene Barge, this body of work is just another example of good old Chicago invention….. For a sample of Howlin Wolf’s psychedelic blues tryst, click here.
Drummer Morris Jennings discusses Muddy Waters’ album “Electric Mud” with Ethnologist Jeff Thomas.
Andre Williams rapping about the Southside of Chicago with doo-wop backing by the Dells back in 1968. Produced by Charles Stepney. Local Chicago Chess Records magic. Dig it.
I love the Dells. Formed in 1952, their career is simply epic. But my favorite period for them was ushered in with Charles Stepney. Unfortunately, as Chess Records (their label from the mid-sixties till the mid-seventies) crumbled, their hits (which include “There Is”, “Stay in my Corner”, “The Love We Had Stays on My Mind”, “Oh What a Night” and more) were harder to come by. 
darkjive.com 
Electric Mud: Electrified Delta Blues got a New Jolt
(“Tom Cat” by Muddy Waters)
Roaring blues, sophisticated jazz, gritty garage rock, smoothed out vocal pop, and shimmering soul (among other genres) all “jus grew” here. Chess Records (based near 22nd and Michigan) was, in fact, the epicenter of the Electrified Delta Blues that changed the sound of popular American music FOREVER. That was the music that served as rock-and-roll’s bassinet. So it was no surprise that Chess Records, nearing the end of the 1960s and reinvigorated with fresh young talent (producer/arranger Charles Stepney, drummer Morris Jennings, and guitarist Phil Upchurch among them), decided to have their living legend artists (i.e. Muddy Waters and Howling Wolf) re-record their groundbreaking 1950s work in an updated funky psychedelic blues style.
White psychedelic rock artists had been ripping off their artists’ work for years. Now they were, in effect, reworking their own art. Muddy and Wolf weren’t feeling it. Critics of the day panned the works. Yet, today, the albums born out of this time (including “Electric Mud”) have an almost cultish following. Produced by Marshall Chess and the legendary Gene Barge, this body of work is just another example of good old Chicago invention….. For a sample of Howlin Wolf’s psychedelic blues tryst, click here.
Drummer Morris Jennings discusses Muddy Waters’ album “Electric Mud” with Ethnologist Jeff Thomas.
Vodpod videos no longer available.
5 Comments | tags: 1968, Blues, Cadet Concept, Charles Stepney, Chess Records, Chicago Blues, Chicago Cultural History, Electric Mud, Gene Barge, Howlin Wolf, Local Chicago Music, Morris Jennings, Muddy Waters | posted in Arts & Culture, Chicago Cultural History, Commentary, Jive Culture, Local Chicago Music, Music, the Goodness