TP Cruiser

So I received that box set, Love Train (retrospective of the Philly International Label ) the other day in the mail (for fucking $12.99 shipped by the way. I must say these recession prices are off the hinges, although my copy was unsealed and clearly defective, all the CDs work fine, which is alright with me), and although I dig it, I think that either they didn’t go to much length to pull out the stops to find the rarer stuff from the label, or maybe I’m just much more familiar with their stuff than I had previously thought. The tag line on the box set reads “Motown had the polish, and Stax had the grit, but Philly International had both”. Unfortunately both Motown and Stax are just superior labels, Zing! Alright, leaving that suuuuuper opinionated comment behind, Philly International did have some pretty unbelievable jams; most of which have obviously been kicked to death by radio, advertising and marketing. My major critique of many of the songs featured in this box set (and a lot of soul/R&B songs universally have the same problem across the board, especially in the 70s) is that they often extend for an extra 2 or 3 minutes longer than I feel they should (The Jones Girls’ song posted is a perfect example of what I’m talking about). The 3 minute pop song was created for people with ADD (like me), so that they wouldn’t get bored hearing the same hook over and over and over and over and over and over again. While I credit Gamble and Huff (and other associated musicians/writers on the label) to having an amazingly developed and cultured sound, they suffer from overzealously beating the shit out of a dead horse. If anything, you need to leave your audience wanting more, not skipping to the next track at the 3 minute mark. I am open to the possibility that people in the 60s and 70s, having not been raised with the expectation of instant stimulation, customization and gratification (like I was), were more relaxed, accepting, and patient with their music. Plus these songs actually mean something, many have lyrical character that relate to a specific sentiment that I cannot identify with, being middle class, white, a melancholiac and relatively un-experienced with any real oppression. Perhaps I am just the wrong audience for this type of music, even though I’d like to pretend that I can understand and identify with it.

There is another trend that seems to be present on a decent quantity of the songs in this set, which is that redolent speech, usually featured in the beginning of the track (but occasionally in the middle or at the end), that could last anywhere from 15 seconds to a full 2 minutes. This is the message, the whispering of sweet nothings, the sensitive truth, that absolutely needs to be directly narrated (I guess for fear that while any metaphor in the lyrics may potentially be misinterpreted, this passage, which sets the mood, is as sharp as a razor), before being pontificated by the ultimate explosion of crooning, emotionalizing the whole passage. Bobby Womack is probably the most notorious for this, but Marvin Gaye, Leon Haywood, Al Green, Barry White, Jimmy Castor, Jerry Butler, Joe Simon and countless others, are all guilty of evocative narraration (although it’s not a crime). Shit, I’d hire James Earl Jones to narrate the intro to my record. Nevermind, he has the voice, but lacks the feeling. Off topic, but how cool would it have been if James Earl Jones was actually the actor that played Darth Vader when he removed his mask in Return of the Jedi? They should have just left it completely unanswered that he was black and Luke white, and I guess it would go against all those prequels they make where Darth was white, but those should never have been made in the first place. Neeeeerd.

My all-time favorite artist on Philly International is Teddy Pendergrass. TP Represent! If we were in a room together and he sang me “Close the Door”, I literally would, and relinquish my flower to him if he requested it. I would “let him do what he wants to do” as alluded to in the song. He has that power in his voice, and I’m pretty sure that even though he is currently paralyzed from the waist down (and to the utter disbelief of the medical profession in general) he still gets rock hard erections. That picture of him that was on the cover of Wax Poetics (in the hooded fur coat with all the rings in the snow, see above), should be featured somewhere as a visual representation of the term “alpha male”.
Teddy Pendergrass - Close the Door
Teddy Pendergrass - Love TKO
Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes - Don't Leave Me This Way
The Jones Girls - Your Gonna Make Me Love Somebody Else