Connie Mitchell stands in a Los Angeles studio waiting for the go-sign to be flashed from the opposite side of the glass. With her stands Otha Stinson plus a few others at the ready, equally prepared to erupt in fiery glory. The room also fits a modest organ-blessed band that is clearly proficient at thick, slowly swelling rhythm. Today, you see, is the day the Magnificent Voices of Holiness will sing their hearts out. Not into the church air as usual, however. But into a microphone, recording them for posterity by way of a resulting 45-rpm record. Their only record of any sort. Today is their shot at immortality: three minutes of give-it-everything-ya-got. Which is exactly what they did with all of their scorched throats. “I’m Going to Work” pegs the meters.
Maybe it did them some commercial good at the time, circa 1970. Unsure. But compared to, say, Prof. James Earle Hines’ warm hug of a postwar smash in “God Be With You” or The Inspirational Souls’ fevered “Look Where He Brought Me From,” their 45 slipped into a black hole of obscurity. The kind of stuff that absolutely makes the day of astute—and lucky—crate diggers.
Similar scenarios repeated up and down the California coast, decade after decade. Gospel singers from Texarkana or Detroit or Memphis or an obscure spot somewhere in rural Louisiana (hello, gravelly contralto Odessa Perkins) made the westward migration. Others were already there, in Bakersfield or Oakland or even L.A itself (hello, Voices of Hope choir, a 100ish-voiced singing army). All, however, sought a shot at fame. Or at least, possibility.
Some did find enduring success. The Melody Kings—all pressed suits, give-’em-a-show choreography and tight, sculpted vocal interplay—surely did as darlings of the gospel jamboree circuit through the 1960s and 1970s. They smolder “The Train” like a disguised blues, snaking its heavyset bassline around a Pops Staples-discipled guitar set on constant flicker. “He’s All Right” is sanctified funk. Even more national notoriety flocked to the iconic Mighty Clouds of Joy, who similarly sported swanky threads and onstage moves, justifying 10 of their tracks being amassed here among the compilation’s 75 total. One of them is “I’ll Go.” A mini sermonette lights the fuse, burning down, extra-hot, while an organ testifies right alongside before—wait, wait, wait for it—the midway point arrives and the four other Clouds’ harmonized voices, plus the full band, kick in as a heavenly cushion to (impossibly) comfort and console Joe Ligon’s voracious lead. It’s an awakening experience, whether or not you count yourself as a believer.
Some did not strike gold, such as the aforementioned Magnificent Voices of Holiness. Or, say, the St. Mark’s Baptist Church Choir, on whom not a lick of information seems to exist. But that doesn’t take away from their vigorously stomped and clapped “Didn’t My Lord Deliver Daniel.”
Regardless of renown, allcomers fit under one roof as part of the sweeping rescue conducted by Won’t Have to Cry No More: West Coast Black Gospel 1940-1973. Three CDs lovingly stockpile pew upon pew’s worth of performers. The collection sprawls for over three hours. Yet Gospel Friend Records, a Swedish label solely devoted to preserving and championing vintage American gospel, has never before been daunted by such undertakings. As always, you may arrive as a novice, but between the breadth of church-born styles and the scholarly accompanying notes, you’ll surely leave as an expert.
For starters, old-schoolers like The Golden West Singers hold class on how to beautifully weave voices, quartet-style. Same can be said of the Luvenia Nash Singers in their manner of soaking “Amen” in the sound of milk and honey. (Correct, the same song Percy Mayfield & the Impressions rode up the 1964 R&B charts.)
But in no way is this just the quaint gospel of your grandmother, thumbing through old Bibles by the window. No, not with Bishop Louis H. Narcisse fomenting rock-n-roll levels of release with “I’m on the Battlefield for My Lord.” And when the 1960s and 1970s really kick in, the lines between sacred and secular music only blur all the more. Excluding the almighty message wrapped within, soul and R&B sometimes lie separated from gospel by only those few short hours between Saturday night and Sunday morning. Hard soul, for instance, dramatically pulses when Harold Bowen and his Singers put some real uh-huh into “Family Prayer,” then bites sharply around the edges of “The Crying Mother” in the strident form of Prince Dixon and an antsy guitar. On the other hand, The L.A. Singing Travelers’ “Step By Step We’re Going to Make It” can’t help reinforcing the bond with R&B by boasting contours so smooth, streamlined and singable as to be worthy of a crossover earworm: Hear it once and it sticks with you for the rest of the day. Andrae Crouch & the Disciples are the slickest of all, sounding as well as looking fit for the Soul Train stage: part-Delfonics, part-Fifth Dimension. Just as Sam Cooke to James Brown to Al Green would tell you, faith does have plenty of soul.
Assortment keeps abounding. The falsetto spirals Little Richard rocketed up through “Long Tall Sally” had nothing on Ruth Black’s soaring technique in “Search Me Lord.” Rather than vertically shooting up bottle rockets, Betty Perkins shakes the rafters on high, wholesale, whenever her graceful power wants to. Dorothy Simmons is the resident nightingale, though. There also is the simple, sweet a cappella blend of the Southern Gospel Singers. The swarm of the Friendship Baptist Church Choir. The contrasting shrapnel-against-satin textures given “Blow Wind Blow” by its lead versus wingmen singers. The sudsy church organ tossing about “Move Upstairs.” The sudsy “When the Saints Go Marching In” stirred up by the vocal aerobatics of The Stars of Harmony. Some ambassadors from the golden age of “ettes” and “tones” likewise chip in: Beverly Duffey with her Duffeyettes; Kenneth Glover with his Glovertones, of course.
And, needless to say, holy house-wrecking hollers are in no short supply, given that The Spiritual Kings (“A Letter to Jesus”), The Singing Corinthians of L.A. (“Why”) and those Mighty Clouds of Joy are in the house. Brace yourself. As well as anyone else within earshot.
Label: Gospel Friend/NarroWay
Release Date: 12/13/24
Label Website: gospelfriend.se
Reviewed by Dennis Rozanski
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