If ever the sum warranted more attention than the
individual albums from which these 10 golden tracks were picked, it's surely
this 1977 collection of greatest hits. Actually, it's not really a greatest
hits, because we're talking only of the Isleys' hits on the Epic label. A true
greatest hits would include their Motown classic, 'This Old Heart Of Mine' and the
material they recorded for various minor labels in the late '50s and early '60s,
somewhat overlooked for a time in the UK because of Lulu's valiant version of
'Shout' and The Beatles' undeniably brilliant rendition of 'Twist And Shout'.
One would also hope
that it would include the glorious 'Who's That Lady', an acoustic version
recorded for the Stateside label of the track that jump-starts this record. 'Who's
that lady; real fine lady?' Was there ever a more searing megawatt guitar sound
this side of Carlos Santana than young Ernie Isley's here? Well, perhaps yes –
and we hear it on the final track of the album – but on 'That Lady (Part 1
&2)' it sounds as if his guitar has been wired up to a wind farm during a
cyclone. All that pent-up energy just pours out of him from the first note to
the last, apart from one glorious hiatus when he pauses long enough to let us
focus on the chugging organ of brother-in-law, Chris Jasper, and brother
Marvin's funky bass line, busy propelling him into the stratosphere.
Clive Anderson of Black
Echoes, who presumably is not to be confused with the Clive Anderson of
chat-show fame, writes in the sleeve notes that 'Ernie Isley's solos burn like
some lost voodoo child'. It's a reference, I imagine, to the fact that a
certain left-handed incendiary guitarist played lead guitar for the group at a
time when it was a vocal trio. Legend had it when Ernie was doing his bit to
blur the boundaries of rock and soul that Hendrix taught the young Isley
brother to play guitar before he quit the band.
Whatever, it's
magnificent and it's in two parts, just like the next track, the title track
from the Live It Up album, and just like the final track on the first
side, 'Fight The Power', which is good enough and funky enough until you listen
to it side by side with Public Enemy's extraordinary song – if that's what you
can call it – of the same name. And I suppose that's what I had in mind when I
suggested that this compilation knocks the individual albums into a cocked hat.
The first of the Epic records, 3+3, probably comes closest to an
entirely satisfying album, but what I've heard of the others confirms my
feeling that a little too much filler pads out the really memorable stuff.
One reason why this
compilation just shades a later and more comprehensive best of is the
inclusion of the brothers' version of Todd Rundgren's 'Hello It's Me'. It's
either soppy or sublime, depending on how receptive you are to slush. Me, oy
loyke a noice bit of sloosh (from time to time) and if anything this version,
with its beautiful harmony vocals by the original three older Isleys, improves
upon Todd's original. The Average White Band would return the favour, in a
manner of speaking, by re-interpreting and arguably improving on the Isleys'
earlier 'Work To Do' on their classic white album, AWB.
Apart from the
high-octane 'Hope You Feel Better Love' with its second-part turmoil of
bruising electric guitar from the kid with the axe, the second side focuses
more on the brothers' smoother Marvin-esque brand of soul – and it's all the
better for that. When my wife heard the opening chords of the opening track,
'For The Love Of You', the other day, she sighed the sigh of someone who has
been touched by the likes of Marvin Gaye and Al Green for most of her adult
life. Taken from the double-platinum Live It Up, it's a beautiful song
in the vein of perhaps the one truly convincing song, 'Caravan Of Love',
recorded by the later Isley-Jasper-Isley spin-off when the kids left the older
brothers to go their own way.
After 'Hope You
Feel Better Love', the brothers leave us with a triad of truly memorable songs
that build to one of the most recognisable climaxes in the wonderful world of
black music. The filigree synth-drenched slush of 'The Highways Of My Life' gives
way to the more robust, acoustic 'Harvest For The World', which would be just
about as good as it could possibly get were it not twinned with 'Summer
Breeze'. If ever you need something to blow through the jasmine in your mind,
then this is it.
When you listen to
the original, a very pleasant piece of West Coast hippy soft rock, it's hard to
conceive of the power and drama with which the Isleys would infuse it.
Certainly, it's unlikely that the song would have lasted as long as it has
without their refurbishment. Although my days of emulating guitar heroes on an
electric tennis racquet are long gone, Ernie Isley still manages to rekindle
the flames of longing. Initially, he merely punctuates the beautiful vocals
with that insidious insistent refrain, so full of latent power and drama that
you just know that he's building up for something special. When he lets rip,
three minutes or so before the end, my word does he give us the treatment.
There's everything an air-guitarist could possibly wish for in that solo:
sustain, reverb, tremolo, fuzz, stereo effects, weeping, wailing, the works.
It's mightier than
the sword. If it's true that Ernie Isley did learn from Hendrix, then the
apprentice laid down on 'Summer Breeze' something that the master would surely
have envied. I was late for an appointment the other day when I was playing the
track for the first time in probably a couple of years. There was no way on
earth that I was going to fade it out. I had to let it run to its own natural
conclusion. Every time I hear that guitar, I want to be a mad axe-man again. Play
it to a heavy metal fan and they'd likely not credit that they were listening
to a black soul band. What a way to end such a real fine album. It's
proof in my mind that the Isley Brothers are not always given the credit
they're due for what they achieved in the 1970s.
