Moving down the highways of my record-buying life, let’s take a look at the classic Isley Brothers masterpiece from ’73…
That Lady
A lot can happen in nine years. One minute you may be a little pipsqueak worrying about starting school, the next you’ll be a surly teenager fretting over spots and crushes. It’s even worse if you’re a dog – one minute an eager puppy, the next, a tired old hound who can’t even manage a small jump in the air without feeling knackered.
In the chart world, nine-year changes are even more acute, given their ever-fickle nature. No sooner has the rock and roll king and queen become trendy, within mere months, their crowns have been stolen by stoned, psychedelic hippies.
For The Isley Brothers, their hit song, That Lady sums up this wide gap of nine years. Originally, a straight-ahead and serviceable slice of R&B, That Lady was given a dramatic 1973-style makeover to become a classic soul-funk workout. Sometimes bands can retread their old footsteps with diminishing returns, but The Isleys breathe new life into this hit, adding buzzing electric guitars, galloping bongos and a greater sense of urgency. Ronald Isley’s vocals are at their A-game, as he alternately croons and soulfully soars his way through this extended jam that remains one of their very best.
Don’t Let Me Be Lonely Tonight
3+3 is a well-judged mix of originals and covers. Unlike some of their contemporaries, The Isley Brothers don’t end up trashing the originals – instead stamping their own portrayal, while managing to stay sympathetic to the first version.
Don’t Let Me Be Lonely Tonight is a fine example, taking a relatively recent James Taylor number and giving it a zesty Isley twist. The acoustic ballad now becomes a slow-burn dancefloor smoocher, with Ronald’s soulful yearning adding a new dimension to this underground great.
The Isleys’ version would be replicated as one of the bonus tracks on Wet Wet Wet’s Popped In Souled Out album – which was ironically my initiation into this track. A good attempt, but it lacks that certain ingredient that made the Isley Brothers’ take so special. The genuine soul.
If You Were There
Ironically, the boot would be on the other foot, as If You Were There – an Isley original – would later be covered by Wham on their Make It Big album. I remember being woken up as a bleary-eyed teenager by my sister playing this version at a godforsaken hour in the morning, so I was a bit predisposed against it.
The Isley Brothers version didn’t make me throw things at the wall, though. It’s not the greatest on the album, but it’s still leagues ahead of the competition. A plus point is that the originals had added younger brothers Ernie and Marvin into the equation, along with brother-in-law Chris Jasper. The new recruits add much to the fuller-formed Isley Brothers sound, not just penning some instant classics, but adding a solidified musicianship that hasn’t dated – unlike the haircuts and fashions on the front cover.
You Walk Your Way
Probably one of the more filler tracks on the album, but still a grooving grower.
Let’s instead turn to the charts, and ponder on why the album failed to make a dent on the UK charts. 3+3 did great guns in the US, reaching Number Eight, and staying just shy of a year during that time. And yet in the UK? Not a sausage. Possibly, The Isley Brothers were seen more as a singles act, as the three hits, That Lady, Highways Of My Life and Summer Breeze did manage to crack the Top 20.
A couple of years later, they’d return to the Top 10 with Harvest For The World, with the accompanying album also managing to make a slight mark on the charts. A shame, since this album, The Heat Is On and the compilation Forever Gold are well worth checking out.
Listen To The Music
I go back and forth over whether cover versions are worth the bother. In the cases of say, any Cowell-induced singing props, my initial reaction is to turn the air bluer than the sky on a hot Summer’s day. And yet in this case – and also the next album I’ll be taking a look at – the cover versions work a charm. I guess it takes a special kind of skill to resist the urge to do an ineffectual clean copy and instead put a different spin onto the original article.
One of the covers selected for Isleyation is The Doobie Brothers’ old chestnut, Listen To The Music. I’ve been listening a lot to The Doobies lately, and while Listen To The Music isn’t a favourite of mine by any means, I’m still wondering what other acts could possibly bring to the party – and yet The Isleys turn it into a chilled-out bit of soul that still marches in tune with the music of the original.
I’ve yet to hear the Sonny & Cher version, but I’m betting it’s not a patch on this take.
What It Comes Down To
The singles chosen from the album differed between countries, with this one chosen as the follow-up to That Lady in America. Bizarrely, the far superior Highways Of My Life was relegated to the B-side, while being flipped to A-side status in the UK.
It’s still a corker, though. Chris Jasper’s manic synthesiser work is a highlight, while Ronald’s vocals continue to be at their very best.
Sunshine (Go Away Today)
Another cover, this one taking inspiration from the Jonathan Edwards hit from early 1972. Like the previous track, it benefits greatly from Jasper’s keyboard work, who adds a bit of Moog magic to help turn the original mournful plodder into something more upbeat and fun.
I don’t think I discovered this album until my late 20s. I remember it being on my list of must-finds after reading about it in one of those Top 1000 Albums books. And yet every time, I paid a visit to a second-hand record shop or car boot, it was always conspicuous by its absence. Fortunately, I managed to track down a copy – call it doubly fortunate, as the original (like all my other original collected albums) was lost. I’m not letting my current copy go!
Summer Breeze
I have a Summer song playlist on my iPod, and it’s funny how many of them come from that golden age of the mid-70s. The first ones that come to mind are The Roy Ayers Ubiquity’s Everybody Loves The Sunshine and this scorcher.
Summer Breeze was always a favourite since hearing it on the radio as a kid. It’s the apex of their strength at interpreting others’ songs – in this case, taking a perfectly good Seals & Crofts ballad and turning it into pure gold. Everything comes together: that offbeat, repetitive keyboard drone, Ronald’s soaring vocals, and best of all Ernie’s blistering guitar work. The single version regrettably pushes the fader button up too early, so this incredible guitar solo wouldn’t be heard as much on the radio – unless DJs were brave enough to try out the album version.
Pure Jasmine in my mind.
The Highways Of My Life
My two favourite Isley Brothers – and overall favourite – tracks back-to-back. It doesn’t get better than this.
I first heard these two on the radio, growing up, but became more familiar with them on the Forever Gold compilation tape, which I bought in 1995. The miserable drudge of university hall life was brightened up a little by listening to tapes such as Forever Gold. I think I wore out the tape because I kept rewinding to the last three tracks – Harvest For The World, I like, but the problem was, it was sandwiched between Highways and Breeze.
Anyway, Highways remains a complete masterpiece. Something about that mournful piano at the start instantly clicks into gear – somehow summoning up mental images of driving along an empty highway with nothing but countryside and bright blue sky bordering the road in glorious technicolour. The eerie whistling keyboards add an extra dollop of sorrow, the chord changes are addictive, and Ronald’s vocals are the icing on the cake.
Sheer bliss. One of my all-time Desert Island Discs.
(Cover design and photography credited to Ed Lee and Don Hunstein)
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