#progressive funk

Cymande: Second Time Round (1973)

Cymande (pronounced ‘sah-mahn-day’) derived their name from an Afro-Caribbean word for dove and, though based in the U.K., all of its musicians were transplants from Guyana, Jamaica, and the small island of Saint Vincent.

A not-so-well-kept-secret of crate-digging hip hop producers, the band’s self-titled first album left a big impression on me -- so much so that I snapped up this white label promo copy of their 1973 sophomore album, Second Time Around, on blind faith (or deaf faith, as it were) alone. 

I was not disappointed ...

Because, like its predecessor, the album fuses a wealth of Caribbean styles (salsa, calypso, but virtually no reggae) with jazz, funk, soul, rock and assorted African rhythms with uncanny variety, invention, and natural feel, reflective the musical melting point common to the musicians’ countries of origin. 

Songs like “Anthracite” and “Trevorgus” unleash relentless (but always danceable) tempos, with jazzy saxophone and flute soloing on top, but its the wind instruments that anchor the melodies for laid-back fare like “Willie’s Headache“ and “Genevieve.”

“Crawshay” weds an ascending piano figure to one of the album’s most distinctive vocals (see also “To You” and the musically bipolar “Bird”) and the usual, show-stopping percussion, never losing its instinctive flow, and the communal chants of “For Baby Ooh” reflect Cymande’s peace and love ideals.

Finally, the horn parts of “Them and Us” remind me of The Mothers of Invention, and the album’s only Single, “FUG,” is especially remarkable in that its busy bass line may have inspired the lopsided arrangement in Devo’s cover of The Rolling Stones’ “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” (and God only knows what else).

Which reminds me to point out the central, absolutely crucial role played here by Steve Scipio’s acrobatic bass parts, which serve as root and rudder for the orbiting eclecticism -- hardly surprising since he wrote almost every track in partnership with guitarist Patrick Eaton.

In sum, Cymande’s Second Time Round is one of those rare instances in which “more of the same” musical experimentation yields no diminishing returns, whatsoever; in fact, I may like it even better than the band’s more celebrated eponymous debut!

Mandrill: Mandrill Is (1972)

This is some trippy-ass cover art right here!

After falling in love with Cymande’s influential first album last year and recommitting myself to continually absorbing the Parliament/Funkadelic catalogs, I was on the lookout for more progressive funk adventures when I spotted Mandrill’s second LP, Mandrill Is, in a record store bin.

Formed in the late ‘60s by the three Wilson brothers: Carlos (trombone/vocals), Lou (trumpet/vocals), and Ric (saxophone/vocals), all of whom were born in Panama and raised in the Bedford-Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn, Mandrill soon signed to Polydor and released a self-titled debut in 1971.

And, though it hardly lit up the charts, the album helped establish Mandrill’s reputation as “Champions for Peace” with a 13-minute suite dubbed “Peace & Love,” setting the stage for the Wilsons, plus bandmates Omar Mesa (guitar), Claude ‘Coffee’ Cave (keyboards), Frederick ‘Fudgie Kae’ Solomon (bass), and Charles Padro (drums), to take things up a notch.

Which they obviously did when it came to Mandrill Is’ eye-catching gatefold sleeve, but the music was another matter, because the group’s genre-hopping versatility seems to have impeded them from developing a style all their own, and reduced them to aping (sorry, couldn’t resist) some of the era’s better-known acts, instead.

For example, “Ape is High” kicks things off positively jonesing for Sly Stone, the Latin-splashed “Children of the Sun” and “Lord of the Golden Baboon” both scream Santana, and the sonically laid-back but lyrically tortured “I Refuse to Smile” sounds like a downer inversion of Al Green’s sensual soul.

When they do manage to escape their influences’ shadows, Mandrill flit from the flute-led bossa nova of “Cohelo” and “Kofijahm (Coffee Jam),” to traversing the galaxy with the nonsensical, philosophical mumbo-jumbo of “Universal Rhythms.”

Frankly, the only two cuts I really got into here were “Git it All,” which insists that you “shake some booty” (and simply won’t take no for an answer), and a riff-driven, surprisingly funk-free hard rocker called “Here Today, Gone Tomorrow.” 

So, I dunno ... maybe my expectations were unfairly high coming in (that amazing cover art promised all kinds of musical miracles), but I wound up pretty disappointed with Mandrill’s work, and I’m not sure I’ll be motivated to dig any deeper into their discography ... unless you tell me to.

Cymande: Cymande (1972)

How random is this album’s appearance here, in VinylSpinning? 

(Update: As random as hearing one of its songs played in a restaurant right after making this post.)

Well, let me tell you ...

I caught a momentary glimpse of Cymande’s self-titled debut in the background of a Hip Hop documentary (the album was being cited as a major sampling source), wondered if it was a Sun Ra record (because of that the bird hat thing), and then decided to seek out a copy, anyway, before hearing a single note.

That’s the way I roll, sometimes.

Turns out Cymande was formed in London, 1971, where they were spotted rehearsing in a Soho club by producer and Janus Records scout John Schroeder; but the group’s nine musicians were all immigrants from South America and the West Indies, specifically Guyana, Jamaica, and Saint Vincent.

Their name derived from an Afro-Caribbean word for dove (as in the peace symbol), and their Progressive Funk sound -- or Nyah-Rock, as they called it -- was built upon a rich mixture of styles, including Calypso, Jazz, Soul, Blues, African Music and Rock, but, surprisingly, not Reggae (yet).

In fact, the only ties to Jamaica’s biggest musical export are found in the words, not the music, of album bookends, “Zion I” (a hypnotic chant over tribal drums) and “Ras Tafarian Folk Song” (dedicated to history’s first hippie, Jah!), both of them composed by two of the Jamaican band members.

There sure ain’t no Reggae or Ska in the remaining material, which traffics in laid-back, soulful grooves (“One More,” “Listen”), forceful horns (“Rickshaw,” the women’s lib anthem “Bra”), and other inspired fusions spanning time, space, culture and cosmic themes (“Getting it Back,” “The Message”).

But the album wouldn’t be truly “progressive” without an epic workout, and that’s the eleven-minute “Dove,” which rides Steve Scipio’s irresistible bass line (later sampled by The Fugees, Wu Tang Clan, and others), topped by fluid soloing from guitarist Patrick Patterson and flautist Mike Rose.

At all times, the musicians’ individual chops and collective musical interplay are simply top-notch, and everything here is extremely danceable, to boot!

So, random or not, Cymande has earned a place in my record collection, and you should probably give it a chance, as well.

Riff Music N°1 (Original Movie Themes) - New Age Group