Rotary Connection
Hey, Love

In describing a masterpiece, one often uses recurring metaphors such as "jewel," "pillar," "milestone." However, I don't think I've ever come across the expression "keystone", which, when closely examined, is the one that best applies to this album, the final recording by the visionary and surprising ensemble known as Rotary Connection, an amazing entity in the most psychedelic and progressive American soul from the late '60s to the early '70s. In this swan song, the group, strongly supported and assembled by the brilliant pianist/producer Charles Stepney, moves away from the covers that characterized their previous works and fully relies on their own compositional potential, channeling into their sound multiple tensions present in the musical landscape of those years, from Burt Bacharach's refined pop to the singer-songwriter style of Laura Nyro, from Frank Zappa's exquisitely over-the-top arrangements to Sly Stone's funk-rock.

Just listen to the flagship track of the collection, the astonishing "I Am the Black Gold of the Sun": a flamenco guitar takes us to a lush territory between bossa nova reminiscences, Jimi Hendrix-like riffs, magnificent vocal harmonies wandering between Brazil and ancient Egypt that almost suddenly open into a liberating verse, beautifully counterpointed by precise, perfectly arranged choirs. The eclecticism is that of the best Zappa, but the spirit is deeply infused with an Afro-American mysticism that would only fully realize itself later in the works of Stevie Wonder or Earth Wind & Fire (produced, coincidentally, by Stepney himself). This is the classic track that alone would justify purchasing an entire album, yet the other songs are certainly not inferior.

The ability to insert melodies rich with emotion into grandiose contexts (but never cloying) stands out in "If I Sing my Song" (perhaps the track most influenced by Bacharach), "Love Is", a magnificent ode to love with the voices (especially that of Minnie Riperton, capable of climbing to dizzying notes and who would later enjoy much broader commercial success as a solo artist) prominently featured amid gospel passages and agile jazz counterpoints, and the epic "Song for Everyman". There is room for the love song, carefree and passionate in "Hey Love" and tormented in "Hanging Round the Bee Tree", poignantly interpreted by the beautiful tenor voice of Dave Scott, almost an improbable meeting point between Marvin Gaye and Ian Gillan, accompanied solely by the piano and sporadic interventions of a string section. The seemingly carefree "Love Has Fallen on Me" would not be out of place in a musical, with its shifting themes, sudden reprises, syncopated time, the gradual insertion of voices, and an exquisite soul flavor capable of warming the soul and engaging listeners.

What surprises, in general, is the richness and coherence of the musical fabric, the extraordinary impressionism of the group and its complex arrangements, and its effortless ability to elevate American pop to a truly remarkable level of artistry. The debut of Chicago and the aforementioned Earth Wind & Fire is just around the corner, yet there is the sensation that all the potential of these two groups' sound proposal is concentrated within these grooves. Thus, what is in fact the final chapter of a band's career transforms into an open window on the wonderful panorama of what would turn out to be the most beautiful decade of pop-rock (allow me a bit of nostalgia), and listening to this album is somewhat like breathing the effervescent air of that exciting era.