Review
The Commodores' 1977 self-titled opus ain't just another funk record, it's a smoky dive where soul meets pop in a hazy embrace. Picture this: you're sittin' in a dimly lit lounge, bourbon in hand, when suddenly 'Easy' floats through the air like a whisper from Lionel Richie himself. That track, my friend, rode the charts like a smooth criminal, hitting #1 on R&B and #4 on the Hot 100. It's the kind of tune that makes you forget your troubles and remember your first love all at once.
But don't let that mellowness fool you. This album's got more layers than a New Orleans jazz funeral. Take 'Brick House' for instance - that bassline hits you like a freight train, with Walter Orange's vocals drivin' it home. It's no wonder that track climbed to #5 on the charts, leaving listeners sweaty and spent. And let's not forget 'Zoom' - a deep cut that never made it big stateside, but found love across the pond. Years later, Fergie would breathe new life into it, proving good music never truly fades away.
Now, here's where the story takes a turn. This album, it was more than just music to these cats. They dedicated it to Kathy Faye LaPread, wife of their bassist Ronald, who'd just lost her battle with cancer. It's that kind of heart that pushed this record to the top - eight weeks ruling the R&B charts and breaking into the pop Top 5. The Commodores weren't just making tunes, they were painting with sound, blending genres like a master mixologist blends spirits. And like any good cocktail, this album goes down smooth but leaves you with a pleasant buzz long after the needle lifts. - Walter
