Having one’s music tied to a specific time in history and culture has to be a disconcerting thing. But aptly representing an experience – whether it’s a single occurrence, or a broad interpretation of an idea tied to a people – is really the highest achievement that any performer or artist can hope to attain. It’s a catch twenty-two, though. As time moves forward, it’s possible for that unique pillar of history to be rendered obsolete. A memory in time is still a memory – and inarguably fades to nothing.

The music coming out of speakers during the ‘70s – of the soul and funk variety, at least – took on a reportorial tinge. A concept of social justice was imbued in the music. And while it’s debatable as to whether or not the music resulted in America’s perception changing, it probably served to enliven a number of people’s days. So that’s a plus.

But seeing as music can be construed as art, why would anyone lend credence to a songwriter’s distillation of a situation? Maybe it’s just because Curtis Mayfield was all things funk and soul. Maybe it was because Mayfield was adept at writing lyrics, music and playing any variety of instruments. Or it might just be that Superfly was a good movie with a great soundtrack.

Whatever the answer is, Mayfield’s legacy isn’t quite what Marvin Gaye’s has become – or even Otis Redding’s. Each performer worked in slightly different modes, but Mayfield is the figure who most broadly affected the musicians he performed with. He orchestrated the Impressions’ success and turned soul music into what Chuck D would come to realize as black CNN (yeah, he applied that to hip hop, but seriously, it starts here).

After more than a decade in the music business and moving past the confines of Chicago, Mayfield issued Curtis in 1970. The disc isn’t generally thought to represent a concerted and cohesive effort in the same way that the Superfly does, but that might just be wrong. Of course, Roots, released the year after Curtis, is more unified in terms of its musicality, but as one makes it through the track listing of his first album, hearing Mayfield test some approaches to his craft is as rewarding as taking a listen to his avowed masterpiece.

The allure of Curtis, or any single effort from Mayfield’s catalog, is the never ending adjustments he makes. Producing and overseeing the recording of each of his albums makes Mayfield  heir to Sam Cooke’s empire. And it really should have turned out that way. For some reason, though, subsequent to Superfly, Mayfield’s chart success began slipping. The next two decades wouldn’t be a series of trials for the singer and multi-instrumentalist, but it wasn’t a procession of success either.

The ‘80s weren’t an especially auspicious time for the performer. And when he was injured during preparations for a show, his career all but ended prematurely. Making it through the ‘90s allowed Mayfield to watch hip-hop’s popularity blossom. One should hope that he recognized his connection to that success.