The CTI Records label was started by producer Creed Taylor
in 1967, initially as a subsidiary of A&M before going independent in 1970.
The underlying idea seems to have been to sell jazz to sceptics. After Bitches Brew, the way forward seemed
particularly clear, and it was Taylor’s avowed aim that, although the music
released on CTI should be commercial or at least approachable, the visions of
the involved artists should remain intact and not tampered with. Another way to
look at it would be as a lifeline for old-school Blue Note types unconvinced by
avant-garde affairs, and at the time the label’s output was generally dismissed
as superior muzak.
Actually the range of artists involved was a lot broader
than might initially be thought; everybody from Paul Desmond and Gerry
Mulligan, via Stanley Turrentine and Freddie Hubbard, to Bob James and Antonio
Carlos Jobim turned up on the label at one time or another, and the music
released was mostly much better and more inventive than any “muzak” label might
suggest. Of course, few in the early-mid seventies would have known about the
sampling culture that was about to emerge, of the young hip-hop generation who would
take CTI’s grooves and run with them, let alone things like acid jazz and what
was being imbued in the minds of impressionable young people in places like
Bristol.
Of all the CTI releases, however, the biggest-selling was Prelude by the Brazilian Eumir Deodato.
Hitherto a reliable arranger, mostly in the bossa
nova field, Taylor gave him his big chance and Deodato used it to provide
the public with popular jazzed-up classics; possibly an overstatement, but Prelude does also include (and in part
derives its title from) Deodato’s take on Debussy’s Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune (nowhere near as convincing a
reimaging as Marion Brown’s Afternoon Of
A Georgia Faun), as well as a version of “Baubles, Bangles And Beads” which
tune owes quite a lot to the second movement of Borodin’s String Quartet in G.
To paraphrase Jean Brodie, for people who like that sort of
thing, that is the sort of thing that they like. But the big hit off the album
was the crafty funk reshaping of Richard Strauss’ prelude as (then) recently
deployed in 2001: A Space Odyssey. No
rearrangement of Ligeti’s Atmosphères
is to be heard but the fanfare and sentiment of Zarathustra were still recent enough to pack a reasonable emotional
punch – it had only been three months since Apollo 17 returned to Earth (the poignancy of which is captured in "Tomorrow," the final track on Public Service Broadcasting's The Race For Space), since
when no manned mission beyond low Earth orbit has yet been undertaken.
Deodato’s arrangement was inevitably edited for seven-inch
single consumption but is still best experienced in its near-nine-minute
totality. Beginning with softly discordant murmurs from Deodato’s Fender Rhodes
and John Tropea’s guitar, a groove is soon in place and the orchestra, made up
of first-call New York studio players, intone the main theme solemnly. In fact
the rhythm section is rather stellar, including as it does both Ron Carter
(acoustic) and Stanley Clarke (electric) on bass, Billy Cobham (very inventive)
at the drums and Ray Barretto and Airto Moreira on percussion.
Following a brief conversation between the two basses, the
stage is set for long solos by Deodato (Zawinul-esque corner pocket seduction) and
Tropea (very much in a John McLaughlin mood) before the orchestra returns,
their fanfare underlined by the bandleader’s In A Silent Way whole-tone keyboard figures. After the piece
climaxes, it dissipates, its constituents floating back into space. It sounded
modern and funky enough to be a hit, and if it seems unusual for a piece of unalloyed
jazz-funk to appear in this list, then I remember watching on mid-seventies
television the Lionel Hampton orchestra performing the same arrangement (with
the veteran Hampton, of course, soloing on vibes). Clearly, however, everybody
from Bambaataa to the Wild Bunch was also listening, and taking careful notes.
Date Record Made
Number Two: 31 March 1973
Number Of Weeks At
Number Two: 1
Record At Number One: “Killing
Me Softly With His Song” by Roberta Flack
UK Chart Position: 7
Its use in the opening sequence of Being There is wonderfully incongruous.
ReplyDeleteFollowing on from what you said about feeling (possibly unduly) fond of music from your childhood, I think this run of no.2s illustrates just how odd the early 70s charts were. Arthur 'Guitar Boogie' Smith and Deodato. AND Gilbert O, who seems a real aberration now, Alone Again Naturally as unlikely a hit as Jake Thackray scoring a US No.1 with The Black Swan. So, even though I'm the same age as you, I think the charts of 71-74 in particular are incredibly rich and varied, and I hope I'm being objective.