I'd not heard of Carl Carlton when I picked this 45 from the bargain box of JB's record shop in London. A quick trawl tells me that the first pressing in 1968 was plugged as 'Little Carl Carlton, the 14-year-old sensation'. His voice certainly is sensational: a rich falsetto more powerful than that of many singers twice his age.
The production here clearly leans toward the slicker style which would soon become ubiquitous with the ascendency of the Philly sound, but for me there is still enough grit remaining in Little Carl's voice to make this interesting, even if the promised build-up never quite delivers.
As I write the skies are glowering, the rain is rattling against the pane and the wind is howling like a banshee. Yes, this is the English summer. To add a little sunshine to my life at this time of year I often turn to latin soul, and I can't think of a better example than Joe Bataan's cover of Gil Scot Heron's 'The Bottle'.
My taste in latin music usually predates this disc: my favourites are the boogaloos from the mid- to late-sixties , but this is undeniably a monster. Bataan takes Heron's cautionary tale and fashions a dance-floor juggernaut, practically inventing disco in the process. This was his first single on the new Salsoul label, and with it he really set the standard for years to come. So turn it up, pour yourself a Cuba Libre and open the window, it's getting hot in here!
I don't know how familiar readers from outside the UK will be with Mr Bloe. The group was the alias of a bunch of guys involved with a small London label called DJM (Dick James Music). In 1970 they released 'Groovin' with Mr Bloe', a stripped down soul instrumental with producer Zack Lawrence on piano and Harry Pitch on harmonica. I don't know who was drumming, but it could have been either Bo Gentry, Bernard Cochrane, P. Naumann or K. Laguna, who all share songwriting credits.
It's a taut and memorable little workout, which found a ready market in the burgeoning northern soul scene and was eventually propelled to number two in the UK charts. As I've mentioned, I don't know whether it charted elsewhere, but I do know that Mr Bloe never bothered the charts again, ensuring 'Groovin'' attained the dubious honour of 'one-hit wonder' status.
It's been a couple of months since my last post, but what better way to return after a break than with 'Amen, Brother', by the Winstons? The Winston's were a Washington DC group formed by refugees from Otis Redding's band. You'll immediately hear the influence of The Impressions in this side, and indeed they first signed to Curtis Mayfield's Curtom label before moving to Metromedia to record this disc.
The A-side to this tune was 'Color Him Father', a homage to paternal values not unlike Clarence Carter's 'Patches'. It was a top ten r&b and pop hit, earning the Winston's a Grammy in 1968. The B-side must always have enjoyed good club play with its driving beat, Memphis style horn line and funky breakdown, but with the advent of sampling it was given a new lease of life, indeed I've even read somewhere that it has a legitimate claim to being the most sampled track of all time. I don't know about that, but I do know that with this one single The Winston's assured their place in soul history.
I'd not heard of Carl Carlton when I picked this 45 from the bargain box of JB's record shop in London. A quick trawl tells me that the first pressing in 1968 was plugged as 'Little Carl Carlton, the 14-year-old sensation'. His voice certainly is sensational: a rich falsetto more powerful than that of many singers twice his age.
