The cover of "Let it Be" from the 2007 film, Across the Universe, by Carol Woods & Timothy T. Mitchum breaks the world down. (The scene in the movie does the same with its allusions to the Vietnam War and the 1967 Detroit riot.) Its visceral fragility and catharsis literally — literally — sends chills down the spine. It just — damn, the words shouldn't get in the way. In all possible seriousness, stick with these, of wisdom: just let this song be.
(Photo: screenshot from the film's "Let it Be" scene)
“Really? A soul cover album of Beatles songs? The hell you thinking? That stuff is untouchable. Un-touch-a-ble. No.”
If Soulive didn’t have that conversation, they should smack someone. And if you agreed with that, get smacked — let 'em try.
“You still gonna? Well damn, good luck to you.”
The covers on the trio’s September release, Rubber Soulive — you’re fine with it now that you heard how perfectly the title works, right? No? Okay — have been licked Soulive smooth. They leave the songs’ brilliance in a new sonic sheen.
Alright — yes, sometimes they slobber.
But “Eleanor Rigby,” from Revolver. Mm mm mmm. The chorus. The chorus, the chorus, the chorus. The licking just feels right: it swells and breathes; it explores the regret in the song’s loneliness. Just close your eyes and let your chin swivel — and not to say, “No.”
The Beatles (album version):
Soulive (live):
I could’ve posted the album version — but their studio recordings always sound a little too shiny clean. And on that note: here’s download from archive.org of a taping of this year’s downright funky Sept. 11 show at the Wescott Theater in Syracuse, NY, which I attended. The “Eleanor Rigby” to “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” thing — mm mm mmm.
(Photo: Arthur Shim for Royal Family Records. Note the black suit, skinny-black-tie hat tip to The Beatles' original style.)
If a dude named Black Wolf is a lead singer, your sound better be some real ish. And if, on top of that, the band hails from the soul music capital of the world… Milwaukee, Wisconsin — alright, alright, but seriously: Black Wolf.
And it is some ish. Damn your feet if they don’t start shuffling and your hips if they don’t start shaking to Kings Go Forth’s sound. The 10-piece band (two lead singers, a backup, bass, guitar, drums, congas, trumpet, trombone) can downright get down and ’ll tug you along with them until you follow for yourself, running. So you might as well damn your feet if they can’t move quick, too.
The drums on the band’s April album from Luaka Bop, The Outsiders are Back, often edge the music to nearly breathless — like the break-beats might break down and trip you at anytime. The horns are tight, some spike for your behind. The congas’ tickling make you realize how much you miss them. And the bass bumps its thumping ass right up next to the drums in the rhythm section’s forefront — hello, hip-hop era.
The rhythm section pushes you forward, but it’s the singers’ melodies grasping your hand. When Wolf’s spine arcs to hit the high ones, his African garb creases, his dreadlocks rattle and his paintbrush mustache’s bristles shiver in that sort of way that shows he just felt something. (Your own spine might mimic.) Apparently, they’ve got some occasional pitch problems—so if you’ve got some sensitive ears, well, damn. But really singing cracks your voice; it’s that passion breaking through.
“One Day” and “Don’t Take My Shadow” have been the showcased cuts. But to give your feet and hips a head’s up, you could also check out “I Don’t Love You Know More.” And when taking a breath on “Paradise Lost,” listen for the Wolf’s “hey hey hey-e-yeah-yeah” to learn why he deserves his dope name.
[Quick post script: Milwaukee apparently produced some truly soulful records in the days; they just didn’t have the reach of the tracks from the soul capitals.]
