3 Pieces
Vibes of Truth (Fantasy Records, 1975)

During the ‘70s popularization of soul jazz styles replete with vocals and the like, Fantasy Records was one of the leading proponents of the style. And counting Donald Byrd as producer for a few of its acts didn’t hurt, but it also didn’t guarantee any successes. That being said, 3 Pieces’ Vibes of Truth might have done what it set out to: include a funky back beat with some jazzy instrumentation, some orchestration and a touch of soulful vocals.

But because of the album’s attempt to do so many things, it falls short a good many times. The lead off “I Need You Girl” is as boring as the title is mundane. The track’s all sugary nonsense ready for smooth jazz radio air play. If that’s where it wound up, it’d benefit both the band and the radio station.

Elsewhere, the group find’s a more fully realized distillation of its hypothesis. “Concrete Jungle,” with that trombone break and sample ready rhythm line isn’t perfect, but would easily make for a good title sequence in any opening sequence for a film dating from the early ‘70s.

Instead, though, the disc wound up in used bins as opposed to being utilized for filmic work. That’s probably due to the fact that the album’s title track, soothing (and rather gross) though it might be, seems more cheese than anything else. The same could be said – and probably was – about the album upon its release. That’s how it goes.

Backwater
Self Titled (Private Press, 1976)

Private pressings are a weird animal. Does the very definition of the thing mean that no one was willing to even release whatever album in question? There’re surely some psych and folk discs that were privately pressed that still sound good. So, why did Backwater release its own album?

No idea…

That being said, the musicianship displayed over the self titled album’s ten tracks surpasses some of the dinky sounding bands now being released as parts of throwback funk compilations. Even with that, there’s still something pretty unprofessional about the entirety of Backwater. But it’s hard to point a finger at.

The shrill alto sax leading the group might have something to do with it. And in listening to the bossa nova inspired second track, “Love is All I’m After,” which includes a bit of crooning should lead listeners to conclude that, the loungey affairs here precluded the group from any sort of commercial viability (although, there were probably alotta dudes that woulda played this on their yachts during the ‘70s).

The spastic shift back and forth between cheap, commercial soul and instrumental funk tracks ensured Backwater of being relegated to the dustbins of history. But even on these sporadic, funk burners, the band is still able to occasionally recall a high school band on the prowl for tail.

There’re worse things out there, but considering the fact that it’s unlikely that anyone’s gonna find this disc laying around anywhere, it kinda doesn’t matter.