Robert Christgau: Dean of American Rock Critics

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Sylvester and the Hot Band [extended]

  • Sylvester and the Hot Band [Blue Thumb, 1973] B-
  • Bazaar [Blue Thumb, 1973] C
  • Step II [Fantasy, 1978] B+
  • Stars [Fantasy, 1979] B+
  • Living Proof [Fantasy, 1979] B-

See Also:

Consumer Guide Reviews:

Sylvester and the Hot Band [Blue Thumb, 1973]
In which everybody's favorite black transvestite internalizes songs by Neil Young ("Southern Man"), James Taylor ("Steamroller"), and Procul Harum (guess) as well as Ray Charles (not bad, in its way) and Billie Holiday (and people complain about Diana Ross). "Southern Man" is almost unrecognizable in its rock-funk arrangement, which is interesting, and if you think Sweet Baby Wimp sounds funny invoking a "churnin' urn of burnin' funk" just imagine those words from a cartoon character who is three-fourths Tweety Bird and one-fourth--well, it is the puddy tat's name--Sylvester. Finale: a Stax-Volt "My Country 'Tis of Thee." Quite a curiosity. B-

Bazaar [Blue Thumb, 1973]
This opens powerfully, with a hard-rock showstopper original called "Down on Your Knees." But its overall message is confused, because just as his band seems to be going macho, Sylvester himself is emulating the gospel ladies he grew up with--and covering Gram Parsons's "She." C

Sylvester: Step II [Fantasy, 1978]
When Harvey Fuqua brought Sylvester back to the vinyl wars last year, he was seeking a disco hit. Well, eureka--"You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)" is a real mutha for ya, one of those surges of sustained, stylized energy that is disco's great gift to pop music. In fact, the whole first side is classic dance montage. Side two proves that Sylvester remains incapable of impersonating Cissy Houston or Eddie Kendricks, though he's getting closer, and n.b.: on the most convincing cut he strays down into his speaking voice. B+

Sylvester: Stars [Fantasy, 1979]
In which Mr. S. stretches his two best tricks--for thrills, a supernal burst of sound too sweet for a shriek that he unlooses well above his normal falsetto range; for romance, a transported croon--over a consistently satisfying four-cut disco album, with help from his own Martha Wash and the Labelle-without-camp of Hodges, James and Smith. The title track tinges Sly Stone with Andy Warhol, but the tour de force is a remake of Ben E. King's "I (Who Have Nothing)," and you know what? Its artificiality suits the schlocky lyric at least as well as King's virtuoso dramatics. B+

Sylvester: Living Proof [Fantasy, 1979]
The three concert sides are what Sylvester wants--his graduation from disco into the world of Thelma Houston and the Pointer Sisters. But insofar as he succeeds artistically he does so on effort, not achievement--he simply can't generate the requisite vocal lustre so far above his speaking register. And insofar as he succeeds commercially he does so on the strength of the studio (i.e., disco) side--which succeeds pretty well artistically, too. B-