Dynamic Grooves

Known mostly for hits by the likes of the Shirelles, Dionne Warwick, Gene Pitney, George Jones, Chuck Jackson, and Maxine Brown, the Scepter, Wand, Musicor, and Dynamo labels also put out a good number of records that were in the heavier soul vein in the late 1960s and early '70s. (The connection between the sister labels Scepter/Wand, and the separately run sister labels Musicor/Dynamo, is that producer/A&R man Luther Dixon was an important figure for all of these companies.) This compilation has 21 infrequently heard sides done for these operations between 1967 and 1974, most of them by artists little known outside of serious soul collectordom, though Chuck Jackson, Inez & Charlie Foxx, Allen Toussaint, and Earl King all make appearances. These cuts aren't as exciting as they are rare, but if you like party-oriented soul from the period that usually doesn't cross into heavy funk, it's a good listen, or at least it has good sides to spin if you DJ for theme nights where the material's appropriate. Some of these numbers wear their influences, good as they are, on their sleeves, like Warren Lee's "Funky Belly," which ably mimics the format James Brown spearheaded on his uptempo, late-'60s funk records, and General Crook's "Fever in the Funk House," which is 1974 Stevie Wonder down to the periodic vocal gasps and synthetic gulps. The Isley Brothers are also audible role models at times, Betty Moorer even daring to take on their big hit "It's Your Thing" (here retitled "It's My Thing"). As a change of pace from the energetic, percolating instrumentals, George Tindley does an interesting, funky version of the Motown staple "Ain't That Peculiar," and the Endeavors do a very nice, brooding groover with sharp Temptations-like vocal interplay, "I Know You Don't Want Me." For those who like lyrics that seem determined to test censors despite not having any dirty words, there's Harmon Bethea's "She's My Meat." Toussaint's version of his own composition "Working in the Coalmine" (a hit for Lee Dorsey) is oddly disappointing, though. ~ Richie Unterberger|

Known mostly for hits by the likes of the Shirelles, Dionne Warwick, Gene Pitney, George Jones, Chuck Jackson, and Maxine Brown, the Scepter, Wand, Musicor, and Dynamo labels also put out a good number of records that were in the heavier soul vein in the late 1960s and early '70s. (The connection between the sister labels Scepter/Wand, and the separately run sister labels Musicor/Dynamo, is that producer/A&R man Luther Dixon was an important figure for all of these companies.) This compilation has 21 infrequently heard sides done for these operations between 1967 and 1974, most of them by artists little known outside of serious soul collectordom, though Chuck Jackson, Inez & Charlie Foxx, Allen Toussaint, and Earl King all make appearances. These cuts aren't as exciting as they are rare, but if you like party-oriented soul from the period that usually doesn't cross into heavy funk, it's a good listen, or at least it has good sides to spin if you DJ for theme nights where the material's appropriate. Some of these numbers wear their influences, good as they are, on their sleeves, like Warren Lee's "Funky Belly," which ably mimics the format James Brown spearheaded on his uptempo, late-'60s funk records, and General Crook's "Fever in the Funk House," which is 1974 Stevie Wonder down to the periodic vocal gasps and synthetic gulps. The Isley Brothers are also audible role models at times, Betty Moorer even daring to take on their big hit "It's Your Thing" (here retitled "It's My Thing"). As a change of pace from the energetic, percolating instrumentals, George Tindley does an interesting, funky version of the Motown staple "Ain't That Peculiar," and the Endeavors do a very nice, brooding groover with sharp Temptations-like vocal interplay, "I Know You Don't Want Me." For those who like lyrics that seem determined to test censors despite not having any dirty words, there's Harmon Bethea's "She's My Meat." Toussaint's version of his own composition "Working in the Coalmine" (a hit for Lee Dorsey) is oddly disappointing, though. ~ Richie Unterberger