Renaldo and the Loaf Gurdy Hurding, Betty Harris The Lost Queen of New Orleans Soul
Renaldo and the Loaf
Gurdy Hurding
(Klanggalerie)
When a rock band reunites after a long duration, like The Stooges or Mission of Burma, the big question is, “Will they rock as hard as before?” In the case of the unclassifiable British duo Renaldo and the Loaf, whose new album Gurdy Hurding comes 29 years after its last studio album The Elbow Is Taboo, the question is, “Will they be as weird as before?” The good news is that fans will not be disappointed.
David Janssen (a.k.a. Ted the Loaf a.k.a. Josef Sneff) and Brian Poole (a.k.a. Renaldo Malpractice a.k.a. Hooper Struve) became childhood friends in 1970 who first bonded over the music of Tyrannosaurus Rex. They collaborated on recordings, being influenced by bands such as King Crimson and Can, but they were most profoundly influenced after encountering in 1977 the work of The Residents—a group that sounded like kindred weirdo spirits.
The two groups eventually fostered a friendship, and the Residents’ label Ralph Records released Renaldo and the Loaf’s most prominent albums including Songs for Swinging Larvae.
The style of Renaldo and the Loaf is immediately recognizable, with goofy voices and exaggerated accents, bizarre lyrics involving topics like garden gnome bedmates or a hatred of soap, non-obvious chords and melodies, acoustic instruments played abnormally and extreme sound manipulation to make everything sound unnatural.
On Gurdy Hurding, the duo’s original bizarre vigor is still strong, although there are some technological enhancements; still, it treads the path of being playful while something seems amiss.
Tracks like “A Convivial Ode” and “Early Twirly” use vocals that are sliced and diced violently yet seamlessly stitched together; words are turned into incomprehensible sounds, and the approach suggests future folk music from an invented country in an invented language.
To apparently show a modern evolution, there are a few contemporary touches, like the drum machine bits on “Carrot Ballet”; ultimately, these feel like minor distractions which partially plant the music in a certain time period.
However, as a whole, Gurdy Hurding is a true statement of the duo’s fun yet uneasy spirit with an emphasis on creating interesting sounds and a relentless devotion to manipulate each one until it’s sufficiently peculiar.
Betty Harris
The Lost Queen of New Orleans Soul
(Soul Jazz)
In a better world, many of the singles Betty Harris recorded in the mid-to-late ‘60s for the New Orleans label Sansu would have been hits, but, as we all know, the cream doesn’t always rise to the top. The new compilation The Lost Queen of New Orleans Soul on Soul Jazz Records collects most of Harris’ Sansu A and B-sides, ripe for rediscovery.
It seemed like everything was aligned for success—these tracks were all written, arranged and produced by the late R&B powerhouse Allen Toussaint with backing musicians including funk legends The Meters—and Harris had an impressive and commanding voice, with moments of sweet vulnerability leading to stirring, belting notes that could firmly grab the listener.
Unfortunately, with limited distribution, these songs had modest success on the national level, and Harris retired from the music business at the end of the ‘60s to raise a family.
The opening track “There’s a Break in the Road” is a deep funk stomper with a fiery performance from Harris with restless drumming that deserves a special mention, with an irresistible bass/snare-drum interplay and little desire to lock into the same pattern for more than a second; if the drum track was isolated, it could be used for about a hundred insanely funky breakbeats.
While the New Orleans funk style is most prominent, numbers such as “Show It” and “I Don’t Wanna Hear It” are satisfying soul-pop excursions that bear a noticeable Motown influence with rich orchestration. The power of Harris’ voice is perhaps most evident on the emotional “Sometime,” on which Harris sings, “This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be / There’s someone for everyone, where is that someone for me?” with a complicated amalgam of anger, frustration and sensitivity.
By focusing on the Sansu years, The Lost Queen of New Orleans Soul is not a comprehensive Harris collection—her biggest hit, “Cry to Me”, isn’t here—and there is a large overlap with the earlier compilation Soul Perfection. However, for what it is, it’s packed with quality soul-funk nuggets that showcase Harris’ bold and moving voice with sterling arrangements.