Consisting entirely of Caribbean-born musicians (predominantly from Guyana, Jamaica, and Saint Vincent) living in early 1970s London, Cymande was formed by guitarist-vocalist Patrick Patterson and bassist-vocalist Steve Scipio, who then expanded the group to nine members. They proceeded to release three albums in their original incarnation, all of them worthwhile, with their eponymous debut from 1972 set for vinyl reissue by Partisan Records on January 13. The record’s sounds, at times described as Afro Rock or Calypso Rock and even Nyah-Rock, hold up spectacularly well in 2023.
Primarily associated with Cymande, Nyah-Rock is a potent blend of funk, soul, calypso, jazz, reggae, African roots (e.g. Nyabinghi percussion), and yes indeed, rock. Upon arrival in 1972, Cymande were considered innovators, and after giving the debut a few fresh spins 50 years hence, it’s easy to understand why; although built from familiar styles, nobody else at the point of the band’s emergence on the scene had really harnessed such breadth in a comparable fashion.
Cymande, who reunited in 2012 and are still active, have influenced numerous outfits in the half century since their inception, along with becoming a discerning crate-digger’s sample source of choice (and many will recognize “Bra” from the soundtrack to the Spike Lee joint Crooklyn), so it’d be understandable if they’d lost a bit or a lot of their cutting edge as so many absorbed and adapted their moves, but the nine songs (11 on the digital) that shape their first record are still quite vital while being simultaneously infused with aspects of an early ‘70s vintage.
Opener “Zion I” is rhythmically huge (hand drums galore), and with a bold bass groove that’s supple but never too busy. The group chanting of the title intensifies the Jamaican roots, as the presence of a flautist fluting (Mike Rose, who also plays alto sax and smacks the bongos) nods to jazz with a touch of hippiedom’s charms.
“One More” slows the tempo and radiates a bit like Fleetwood Mac’s “Albatross” (the track is sans vocals), at least until the Eastern-tinged horn progression enters the equation. “Getting It Back” immediately kicks up the intensity and with a tangible earthy early ’70s US soul vibe (it’s the vocals), and then shrewdly waits until over mid-way through the track to slam it into full gear, courtesy of Sam Kelley’s drums (and with a robust free-spiritual jazz sax squeal icing the cake).
From there, “Listen” deepens the soul connection. Like “Getting It Back,” the singing puts me in a vaguely Curtis Mayfield frame of mind (a similarity surely magnified by the hand drumming, with Pablo Gonzales on the congas). As its title suggests, “Rickshaw” plays around with an Exotic (but not Exotica) flavor, launching from a massive percussion framework (Joey Dee and Ray King), as it’s positively loaded with (surprisingly non-crap) fluting, some killer and thoroughly tasteful guitar licks, and a theme (with a hint of Mancini) that really solidifies Cymande’s jazz bona fides.
Stretching out to 11 minutes, “Dove” (cymande is calypso for dove) is in numerous respects the album’s standout track, as they keep it interesting throughout. It’s the record’s heartiest merger with a rock sensibility, excelling through a lack of hackneyed overplaying. By extension, maybe Cymande’s most impressive facet is their collective restraint, which is doubly remarkable in a debut.
“Bra” connects a bit like early War and “The Message” is a tad reminiscent of The Meters (but with vocals). Dedicated to “the world’s first hippie,” “Rastafarian Folk Song” closes the vinyl, fooling around at the start with spiritual theatrics a bit (not to suggest they’re not sincere) before getting into another good groove. And it’s worth mentioning how the horns of Rose, Peter Serreo on tenor, and Darek Gibbs on alto and soprano avoid gratuitous chops flaunting; as said, tastefulness is Cymande’s norm.
Of the digital bonuses, “Friends” is from a ’76 single (with “One More” on the flip) and “Mighty Heavy Load” has been tacked onto at least one CD edition of third album Promised Heights (along with the three-album 2CD comp The Message). Both sound like they derive from different, slightly later sessions, which messes with the flow a bit, but that’s ultimately not even a quibble, as the vinyl edition of Cymande is where it’s at. Fans of the stated styles with a global reach, do not sleep.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-
