Vinyl examination: The rhythm of ‘Patti Austin’

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I will never understand why Patti Austin, diva of soul, pop and jazz, never became a major star.

Her voice is clear as crystal, the kind of instrument that you recognize as soon as you hear it. A gifted singer who honed her chops singing jingles and background vocals for everyone from Kenny Loggins to Angela Bofill, the Grammy winner has recorded songs in pretty much every style imaginable. From the light fusion of her early CTI LPs like “Havana Candy” to the standards that grace her most recent outing “Avant Gershwin,” Austin’s stylistic range is astonishing in its breadth and sheer technical mastery. Oddly, that may have been part of her problem: If there is one thing that baffles the record-buying public, it is a black chick they can’t easily categorize. Add to that the fact that Austin was building her repertoire in an era when the only thing major labels were building was a legion of image-driven artists, and it’s safe to say her remarkable recordings were destined to get lost in the shuffle.

The early eighties found Austin moving in a more pop-oriented direction, waxing sides for Quincy Jones’ fledgling Qwest Records. The singer is best remembered for the timeless 1981 gem “Baby, Come to Me,” a duet with crooner extraordinaire James Ingram that shot to the top of the pop charts thanks to the popularity of the ABC soap opera “General Hospital.” Jones, who is Austin’s godfather, handled the production chores for her Qwest debut “Every Home Should Have One” and she seemed destined for the big leagues, as the album was both a commercial and critical success. Employing the “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” approach, the label continued to push Austin into shiny pop-soul territory on her eponymous 1984 follow-up. A solid collection heavy on highly stylized dance tracks, the record deserves far more attention than it’s ever gotten.

Like many albums of the period, “Patti Austin” (which was reissued on CD in 2007) utilizes a series of producers and a stellar group of players in what was likely an effort to catch as many sides of both Austin’s personality and the current musical landscape as possible. Jones, Narada Michael Walden, David Pack, Ollie E. Brown, Clif Magness and Glen Ballard take turns twisting knobs on the LP’s 10 cuts, while the likes of Bofill, Sheree Brown, Phillip Ingram, Michael McDonald and Siedah Garrett offer musical support. Los Angeles Times writer Connie Johnson praised the album’s consistency and noted that Austin embraced a kind of freedom that eluded her on previous efforts. “She affects a lowdown growl on funk numbers and even tears loose with some scatty jazz inflections,” Johnson wrote. The latter has always been Austin’s greatest asset, giving her synth-based material a bit more grace than that of a lot of her contemporaries. In less capable hands, the hit single “It’s Gonna Be Special” (No. 15 R&B), “Shoot the Moon” (No. 49 R&B) and the Walden productions “Rhythm of the Street” and “Hot! In the Flames of Love” would have been mere filler, but Austin’s inimitable verve and phrasing up the aural ante. She also excels on the pristine pop of “Starstruck” and the reggae-influenced “I’ve Got My Heart Set on You,” grooves that signal a real broadening of the Austin sound.

Never one to holler and shout, Austin knows how to grab you quietly, which is what makes her love songs so appealing. Unlike most of her other albums, however, the ballads here are a bit weaker than the dance material. Still, they are quite lovely and the singer gives them all she’s got. Of the pair of slow jams featured on the LP, “All Behind Us Now” is the strongest; it’s a straightforward, languid love song that gives her lead plenty of room to breathe and fits well into the album’s overall vibe. Dark and moody, the album’s closing number “Any Way You Can” is a fitting cool down after nearly an hour of get down – though not remarkable, it’s the closest to any of her pre-Qwest material she gets here. I’m sure fans of her early material found it to be a breath of fresh air.

Though it likely pleased her existing fan base and grabbed some new folks along the way, the record failed to make a significant mainstream impact and stalled at a paltry No. 87 on the pop albums chart. Undaunted, Austin soldiered on at Qwest, issuing the equally glossy and highly enjoyable “Gettin’ Away With Murder” in 1985. While it featured production from Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, the album didn’t become a major hit, a blow that likely caused Austin to return to her jazzy roots on the outstanding “The Real Me” in 1988. From that point forward, fans found Austin grooving on the chic, smooth jazz tip, a medium that has helped her remain a popular attraction in concert and on record to this day. Just this year, she snagged a Grammy for her critically acclaimed album “Avant Gershwin.”

The Qwest album from Austin’s canon that always seems to get overlooked, “Patti Austin” didn’t shatter any glass ceilings and at its root was probably never intended to. A product of the big eighties, it’s as solid as anything fellow divas like The Pointer Sisters or Patti LaBelle were having success with at the time and should have found a similar fate. It just seems that it wasn’t meant to happen. No matter, as it’s as tasty as the brightest moments from any of the singer’s other incarnations. And at the end of the day, it is the versatility that records like this bring to Austin’s catalog that make her one of the most treasured stylists of the last three decades.

“Patti Austin” is proof that no matter what she sings, the sister will leave you starstruck.

Take a few ‘Lessons’ from Blueheels

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The band of brothers known as Blueheels rock hard.

A homegrown blend of rock, country and blues, their latest release “Lessons in Sunday Driving” hits you with a balance of freshness and familiarity that few bands are able to strike. Over the course of a dozen songs, Robby Schiller, Adam Cargin, Justin Bricco, Landon Arkens and Teddy Pedriana flourish whether they crank the energy up high or bring it down low, a strength that makes “Lessons” a fun, engaging listen.

Indeed, these boys are damn good. Based in Madison, Wisconsin, the band’s brand is void of the pretention and fabricated pretty-boy angst that clouds much of commercial rock. Anchored by Schiller’s salty, knowing vocals, the band seems to shine brightest in the quiet, confessional mode of their forefathers. “Desperate,” “Not to Say Goodbye” and “If You Love Her” weave emotive lyrics and mournful guitars into tangible expressions of melancholy, while the dramatic, slow-burning “Trampled Rose” seamlessly blends the hard and soft sides of band’s musical personality. As I said in my piece on soul-singin’ white boys, sometimes soul goes beyond how we conventionally view it, and that sentiment is captured greatly in these songs. It’s not always a matter of a song fitting neatly into the category of soul – the key is that the song comes from the soul, and these most certainly do.

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That’s not to say they don’t rock out when they want to. Jams like “Keep Your Mouth Shut,” “Holiday Parade” and the autobiographical “Small Western Town” are plucky grooves that are a little bit country and a little bit rock ‘n’ roll, workouts that are just a plain old good time. Elsewhere, the self-deprecating ode to love-struck bliss “I Tried Not to Love Her” puts their good humor out front and center for what is arguably the most enjoyable track on the album. Such joy is what really makes the album as a whole click, as it is clear that these dudes have a strong, unwavering love of music and the joy it brings both them and their growing fan base.

Bursting with rhythm and energy, “Lessons in Sunday Driving” is sure to win Blueheels the praise and adoration they undoubtedly deserve. These boys should be doing their thing on stages worldwide, and I am happy to say I had the chance to experience them as they continue their journey toward higher heights and the chance to school their fellow rockers with some essential “Lessons.”

To purchase “Lessons in Sunday Driving,” click here.

To learn more about Blueheels, click here.