R.I.P. Bonnie Pointer

Over the weekend I caught up with the news that Bonnie Pointer passed away last Monday. 
She was just 69, another one leaves us much too young.

This is a bit spooky really. Only about two weeks ago I pulled out her debut solo album from the collection and gave it a spin. Since then she has been sat on a chair next to the turntable looking at me. I think I better put her back into the file again, next to her sisters, where she may gain some comfort.

I have always been a big fan of the Pointer Sisters, especially their 70s albums, when Bonnie, Anita, June and Ruth were all together. It seems Bonnie made the wrong move going solo in 1978, it was not long after that her sisters really hit paydirt with a string of more commercial songs that were big hits – Automatic, Slow Hand, etc. After signing Bonnie, Motown didn't seem to pull out the stops for her. Only two albums appeared and both contained versions of many old Motown songs, the second album being almost full of them. Her first album – the “Red album” (the one pictured here) - was the better of the two I think. It seemed to be very much an album of two halves. Side one was upbeat, production heavy, and aimed at the dancefloor. Side two on the other hand was much more stripped back and reflective and much to my liking, and I wonder if this was the true Bonnie trying to make her mark?

Here is a track from that side:

Bonnie Pointer – I Wanna Make It In Your World 1978

And here, from 1974 when she was together with her sisters, is Bonnie singing (live) Black Coffee, which appeared on The Pointer Sisters album That's A Plenty

Rest in Peace Patricia Eva “Bonnie” Pointer (July 11th, 1950 – June 8th 2020)

The bubbles are forming

For all of you in your little bubbles tonight.

This was just about the last record I bought in a charity shop, back in March, seemingly a lifetime ago now.  

Ken Boothe - Now You Can See Me Again  1974

Stop! My Soul boxes need more love

Listening to a a mix/radio show on Mixcloud the other day this a jumped out. I thought: I've got this. A dive into the Soul boxes confirmed the thought.

This is such a great record. I've definitely had this in the collection for at least twelve years now, probably longer. My immediate thought was that it would have been one of my earlier ebay purchases, but then in the back of mind something is telling me this may have been a real world purchase that went back quite a long time. Whatever, it has languished in the boxes unplayed for far too long. As have so many others. Why do I keep pursuing more records when I have so many great ones like this already?

Playing it again after so long on my system – and really listening - I was struck by the real quality of the musicianship behind Howard Tate's great vocal. It sent me onto Google to do a bit of research . Howard had a run of consistently solid singles released on Verve in latter half of the 60s, and I have a few of these. They were produced by Jerry Ragavoy who used a number of New York session musicians including Paul Griffin, Chuck Rainey, Richard Tee, Eric Gale and Herb Lovell. Some familiar names to me there – Rainey, Tee, Gale at least – those names must adorn the back sleeves of a significant number of jazz-funk albums in my collection, as well as some in other genres too. All those albums would have been recorded in the 70s and into the 80s, when these guys were really go to session musicians. And that would have been when I first became aware of them; I hadn't previously explored their careers to understand they went back further. Now this has me wondering how many other singles in my collection they are playing on.

I did know the basics of Howard Tate's life story, very much one of ups and downs, but it was good to get a refresher here.

The bass guitar was one instrument which leapt out of the speakers at me when I played this single, so that was most probably Chuck Rainey playing. I've learned something today.

This little episode has also taught me my Soul boxes need more love. I don't need a reason to do that but of course there is a simple one staring me in the face anyway – dig 'em out and share 'em here. After all, it's not as if I don't have the time. Could I be organised and dedicated enough to do that? Hmmm.

Howard Tate – Stop 1967

In our lifetime?

It feels like we've stepped back in time, to the 1960s. A rocket went into space and it made the news. But that was just happenstance. What really makes it feel like we've gone backwards is another event – George Floyd's awful murder, and the resulting protests that are happening across America - and the world. It seems like a lot has changed in the last fifty odd years but nothing has changed. I have always found it difficult to believe that in my early lifetime segregation still existed in America, and horrendous acts of racism seemed commonplace (not only in America I'm sure, but it was supposed to be the land of the free, democratic, a seemingly advanced and developed country, so that makes it all the more difficult to understand). 

In 1970 Syl Johnson released his album It It Because I'm Black. On that album was a track written by bassist Bernard Reed – Together, Forever. The book Move On Up: Chicago Soul Music and Black Cultural Power (Aaron Cohen) tells us that Bernard wrote the song after an incident on a Michigan Avenue bus where, while travelling with members of the band Pieces Of Peace, he was accused by a white passenger of being a thug. Bernard chose to write a song of hope. I wonder if Bernard's hope has run out yet. Fifty years and counting, I think we still have a way to go. 

Syl Johnson – Together, Forever 1970