NEWS
EVENTS
Classic Albums: Superfly
House | Thursday 15th August 2013 | James
Here we are in the first week of our ‘Classic Albums’ series, and today we’re kicking off with an absolute soul-sizzler that takes us deep into the mind of musical genius, Curtis Mayfield.
It was 1970 and Curtis Mayfield had just left The Impressions. It was a group he had achieved not only significant musical, but also political, awareness from. Hits like ‘Amen’ and ‘Keep on Pushing’ were engrained into the 1960’s Civil Rights movement, the soundtrack for which was heavily influenced by Mayfield’s work. So when he set off on a solo venture, there was little doubt that his music would be twinned with a socially aware conscience of the time. He just needed an opportunity to make it happen.
That opportunity came in the form of Blaxploitation film Superfly, which Mayfield was asked to produce the theme for. The film follows the story of Youngblood Priest; a black American cocaine dealer trying to flee from the underground drug world. With Mayfield’s extreme views against the growing culture of drug crime in 70s America, here he saw the perfect chance to create an album that would reflect exactly what he thought on the issue. He wanted to do more than tell a story; he intended to make a social statement. What happened next was the creation of soul’s first iconic concept album, one which would go on to out-gross the film it was made for and soar to immediate commercial success.
“Can’t reason with the pusher man, finance is all that he understands”
The extent of Mayfield’s attack on America’s drug culture goes far beyond the views of the film. The first side of the album takes us on a trip deep into the heart of greed, corruption and manipulation; three prominent tools for the elusive financial gain that so many people had become fixated on. In ‘Little Child Runnin’ Wild’ we hear the story of a ghetto-born African American whose life has quickly turned to drug addiction. In ‘Pusherman’, probably the album’s best known track, we see the perspective shift from the consumer to the supplier. Persuasive in expression, charming in style; the pusher man is the guy who everyone admires. The song is carried by a constant percussion beat which keeps the lyrics being delivered in a smooth, uber-cool tone. Unflustered by the hidden severities of this way of life, the pusherman’s account is almost as convincing as it is disturbing. After all, if you could make every financial gain you wanted at the expense of a drug-dependent community, why on earth would you want a conscience?
“Feed me money for style and I’ll let you trip for a while”
Of course, nothing is too good to be true. In ‘Freddie’s Dead’ we hear Mayfield’s most shocking attack on drug abuse. Big powerful brass band instruments resonate on the words that narrate how a deprived drug addict, Freddie, has been pushed to suicide by the exploitative community he was a part of. It’s not just a wicked tale of where drug abuse is ultimately destined for, its Mayfield’s shrill warning to the social consciousness of people like Freddie, whose constant highs were ultimately short-lived. Suddenly the sinister effects of the pusherman’s story are realised in a crushing blow, the charm and trust he tries to induce are exposed as paper-thin fraud. With lyrics like “Everybody’s misused him, ripped him up and abused him” and “Another junkie playin; pushing dope for the man”, Mayfield doesn’t hide his feelings on where the blame lies. There’s no doubt about it; the power of these words spread beyond the melodies upon which they were written.
All this is wonderfully balanced by the soothing tones and jazzy melodies that don’t give off the sinister impressions that the lyrics expose, making the album a classily unaggressive listen throughout. That being said, the instrumental piece ‘Junkie Chase’ sounds like it could accompany a car chase scene from a Bond film, roaring out the explosive thrills of the ecstatic high Freddie was living on before his inevitable death.
“We’re all built up with progress but sometimes I must confess, we can deal with rockets and dreams, but reality… what does it mean?”
There’s a strange calming shift in tone however at the start of side two. The powerhouse trumpets are replaced by softening strings on ‘Give Me Your Love’; nuanced by reassuring piano melodies and high hats, giving the song a tropical gentleness. The replacement of greed-driven lyrics with romantic gestures hint at a different sort of high: love.
“Could live with you in solitude and need no one else”
The movement towards a more tranquil sound builds in ‘Eddie You Should Know Better’, Mayfield’s common sensical statement of intent against the junkie lifestyle which brings back the rhythmic bassy sound from side one, but with an altogether more harmonious, soulful feel. This all peaks in ‘No Thing on Me’, where Mayfield offers his solution to the seemingly inescapable solution that drug abuse provides. As the first half of the album describes the extreme despair brought about by a narcotic high, the second half builds to the conclusion of an altogether more uplifting, natural high that is achieved through happiness and self-fulfilment. This is followed by a mixture of heartening tunes with big-band jazzy noises in the albums second instrumental piece ‘Think’. The final track and title of the album ‘Superfly’ is a fitting tribute to the overall sound Mayfield produces; a livewire finale of brassy, bassy funk.
“I’m so glad I’ve got my own, so glad that I can see my life’s a natural high, the man can put no thing on me”
It’s not just the nature of the story that makes Superfly a timeless triumph. Mayfield employs a ‘do or die’ attitude to his music and his message. A black American artist giving such an outspoken opinion on an extremely taboo issue, on the cusp of America’s historic transition towards racial integration, is revolutionary in itself. So is the music. Mayfield was the first musician to truly back up a fitting bass line with a fifty piece orchestra; deliver evocative lyrics on polished melodies; and preach a moral principle through music that had never been done on such a scale.
The message is universal though. Whatever the circumstance or background, there’s always a route into the desperate lifestyle of drug abuse, and there’s always a way out. In the words of Mayfield himself, “I have met many people over the years, and in my opinion I’ve found that people are the same everywhere.” This, I think, is the best lesson we can learn from Superfly, one which makes Curtis Mayfield the ultimate pusher man of soul music.
James Davies.
