Sean Trane
A double-live album with a striking artwork sleeve (reminding you of FSATSC), It’s Your World is probably one of the better intro you could get to post-75 GSH works, and even get you a good glimpse of what came before: the more seminal Gil. The album is divided in four parts (one/side), according to (it seems) the time of the day it was played upon: Sundown, Nightfall, Late Evening and Midnight & Morning. These titles might be a little misleading since the recordings were spread over two nights, but it’s almost an irrelevant anecdote. The line-up is more or less the same than the SA To SC album, btw.
If the first disc is rather interesting, dealing in the newer funk realm that GSH & BJ had settled on for the last two years. With the three tracks filling the Sundown A-side, you can sense that the band is getting worked up and is heating the crowd, but there is nothing spellbinding, just good jazzy funk. As soon as you get into the Nightfall B-side, you hear GSH is indeed cranking in the second gear and the soul seems to seep out from the vinyl spinning from your turntable. 17th Street oozes the flute and Brian unleashes the Rhodes while Gil delivers the vocal charm. Tomorrow’s Trane s another Coltrane-aimed track, but although exciting, like his other homages, it simply doesn’t have the power of his master, despite Sunni-Ali’s sax interventions and Brian doesn’t over-Tynerise his piano interventions. Close call but no cigar.
Opening the second disc, Late Evening C-side cranks up another notch in the gearbox with the legendary and ultra-funky Hatred Home, an early classic that was definitely laying on Gil’s demands and plights. However the following Bicentenial Blues is a typical GSH rapping rant, bit of a shame too, because it breaks the good inertia of the evening, a bit like a flat tire breaking the highway fun. As for the Closing Midnight D-side, it sees Gil sliding behind the keys and Brian stealing the flute from Sunni-Ali and unleash the horsepower into the freeways of jazz-funk with Bottles, with wild congas slapping, reminiscent of Santana. The shows ends rather abruptly in a very jazzy fashion with the very-slow Sharing, where a certain Vic Brown takes the microphone and sings us a ill-fitting lullaby…
While a good GSH album, this double-live collection is not exactly flawless and ends up a bit of an unfocused mixed bag against its own good. Nevertheless an interesting album for discovering his middle years.