Chicapah One of the great joys of my teen and early manhood years that’s likely gone forever was that of regularly patronizing the business establishment known as the local record store. Music was of supreme importance to my well-being, especially in the 70s, so having a place I could visit on a weekly basis where the possibility of either picking up the latest release of a favorite band or discovering something new and exciting was an essential part of existence for me and I daresay millions of others. Having said that, there was an inherent risk involved for those who indulged in that hobby. Often there wouldn’t be anything that you just “had to have” and you’d take a chance on something you weren’t too sure about. You’d plop down funds siphoned from your limited entertainment budget only to get the disc home and find out you’d been bamboozled. It created an empty sensation in your gut. But, in fairness, depressing feelings of unmitigated disgust over your purchase were just as rare as the rapturous moments of eureka that came with finding an aural mother lode. Most of the time even the disappointing LPs had at least one ray of sunshine that made the investment worthwhile and Les McCann’s “Another Beginning” is one of a legion like that in my library of vinyl. In this case, however, that single gem shines so brightly that it obliterates the rest of the cuts altogether. More about that later.

Briefly, Les was a gifted individual who’d made a reputation for himself with the public at large via the deserved success of his collaboration with Eddie Harris, “Swiss Movement,” a set recorded at the 1969 Montreux jazz festival. To this day it’s one of the very best live concerts ever caught on tape (and the main reason I bought this album). McCann’s goal after that exposure seemed to be to combine his leanings in both soul and jazz to create a unique niche for himself. Easier said than done. His husky, rich baritone voice and his piano acumen were above reproach but writing songs with broad appeal that would widen his fan base exponentially became the mountain he couldn’t climb. He wasn’t alone by any means. Hundreds of similarly talented artists attempted to scale those imposing cliffs but very few reached the pinnacle. There are only so many Stevie Wonders and Marvin Gayes per generation as we all know. “Another Beginning” is an honest, professionally-produced expression of what Les had to offer at that point in his career but it only serves to highlight why so few in the 21st century have heard of him.

“Maybe You’ll Come Back” is a thoughtful, jazzy R&B number that benefits from full, lush orchestration. It also introduces the listener to McCann’s strongest musical possession, his resoundingly emotional and dependable voice. Even when the music is weak his singing helps the tunes get up off the floor. “The Song of Love” follows and despite its obvious pop mentality its casual, strolling beat keeps it from being trite and pedantic but still far from being high-quality material. Les wrote or co-wrote all the songs on the album except one and what comes next is the transcendent jewel I mentioned earlier.

“When It’s Over” was penned by some folks by the name of Jon Mayer, Billy Barnes and Jill Lynn. I have no idea who they are but this tune of theirs is so good that McCann knew he’d be a fool to not put it on this album. It’s a slow-paced, bluesy jazz tune with gospel-style overtones and a timeless story to tell that continues to send me into a swoon every time I hear it. Yet even the most incredible of compositions are no more than chords and lyrics on paper if the musicians don’t perform it properly. Not a problem here. Les and his band slay it. I mean SLAY it. It starts off with basic acoustic and electric pianos, bass, drums and vocal that travel together effortlessly. They never betray the essential groove. There’s a fine art to playing this kind of feel only attained through experience and these guys have it in barge-sized loads. McCann holds the extra voices at bay till the halfway mark so when the chorale is added to the mix on the 2nd chorus it makes the hair on my neck stand in anticipation. On the 3rd go-round they push the faders labeled “singers” up on the board and the overwhelming effect is orgasmic. On the 4th time through the vocal tsunami is so thoroughly enveloping that I want to stand and shout “That’s Right! Sing it LOUD, my children!” The long fade out may bring you to tears because you won’t want it to stop even though it’s been well over ten minutes since it began. One of my favorite tracks of all time.

Unfortunately, there’s nowhere to go but down after that but the light funk texture of “Somebody’s Been Lying ‘Bout Me” keeps it from being a steep drop. The song’s structure is too convoluted for its own good but you can’t deny the enthusiasm and passion he puts into his vocal and the female backup singers inject some trippy fun into the proceedings. “Go On And Cry” continues the downhill slide. A Latin groove gives way to hard funk on the bridge but Les’ pedestrian Arp noodlings don’t do it any favors and it’s a case of McCann trying to be “hip” but coming up way short. “My Soul Lies Deep” is mainly a solo piano/vocal piece (airy strings appear midway through) but as heartfelt as it is it never goes anywhere special. “The Morning Song” is up-tempo R&B that lacks focus. The electrified chorus with the all-girl glee club chirping away is admirable but they can’t save this anemic tune. At least Les exits stage left on the up and up. “Someday We’ll Meet Again” is a cool, flowing instrumental wherein he lets the musicians in his studio ensemble contribute. Miroslaw Kudykowski in particular burns a hot bop guitar solo and McCann’s synth ride is full of vim and vigor (the tone he utilizes blends with the horns seamlessly). He then shows off his impressive piano chops to the finish as the whole thing floats away like a cloud.

Les McCann never garnered the popularity that he thought he might have a shot at but it wasn’t from lack of trying. For the most part his catalogue of work is average fare but every once in a while, to quote Tom Petty, “even the losers get lucky sometimes.” While Les was in no way, shape or form a loser he did get lucky in finding the one song that elevated this record from being one I probably would’ve traded in for cash at some point to one that I’d never dream of parting with. “When It’s Over” is that magnificent.