We became aware of the new interest in our 1979 LP on July 21, 2003 with an email from Nate Bosshard, and it went like this."I live in Vermont and we just had a local vintage vinyl sale and I stumbled across your "Living in the City" record from 1979. I am also a radio DJ on WRUV FM Burlington 90.1 and I have been playing this record pretty hard, but unfortunatly it is in horrible condition. I was wondering where I could find more copies. It's amazing!"
After subsequent emails back and forth, Nate informed us that our LP was in his Top Six Play List and the two cuts that listeners were requesting were "Livin' In The City" and "I'll Take You There". He also said a friend of his from Denver found a copy of the LP. Then we got an email from someone in London, then New York, then Sweden wanting original copies! Nate bought and sent a copy to a DJ in Australia. A California based record company Stones Throw emailed for a copy! Wow!
Nate then informed me he was writing an article for Wax Poetics a relatively new publication, with offices in New York and California, that discovers and covers vintage vinyl LPs . Well, the real story is best told by reading his article as follows. Thank you, Nate.
A True Tale of Re: Discovery
Ben
I inherited an instant reverence for The Melton Brothers Band from the extremely different manner in which my vinyl mentor treated their album. Sang Woo, who I forever regarded as the top-of-the-food-chain Japanese record mafia don, always regarded the impeccable and impossible stacks of records that were neatly boxed up in his Fort Green living room for shipment to Japan with a blasˆ© disregard served over constant cups of green tea. In fact, a great deal of my heaviest-hitting albums came not from hours of scouring dirty basements and abandoned storage units, but from his gentle encouragements. Mulatu of Ethiopia? Lyman Woodard Organization? Sealed copies? ’ÄúGo on, take them. You’Äôll understand later’Ķ’Äù
Several years of digging and many more teacups later, Sang and I had developed quite an understanding. I had been regularly working his stall at the infamous ’ÄúRoosevelt’Äù record conventions, then a full roll call of hip-hop’Äôs finest producers as well as those yet to shine publicly. Payment for becoming a buffer between Sang and the throngs of Big-Bird wielding, heavy-hitters with a one-track mission (’Äúbut does it have beats?’Äù) was always a stack of rarities that I was after PLUS some way-iller joints whose value would take several visits by fellow collectors to truly expose. There was really hardly ever a record that Sang’Äôs generosity couldn’Äôt eventually place in my collection.
But Living in The City was a different story. I remember the day that I came across a few of them, sealed, amongst his recent finds. I asked him, as nonchalant as ever, what the story was with this 1-color, rough-textured piece. It’Äôs simplicity and declaration of ’Äúwith Ms. Alfie Moss’Äù intrigued me in the way that those things always do. He lowered his voice and took a grandfatherly tone that I had never heard before, ’ÄúThat’Äôs a special record. Vary rare.’Äù So began our usual minimal-word exchange that characterized our roundabout process of me pulling a description of an album/band/vocalist etc. out of him. ’ÄúFunky?’Äù ’ÄúNot really.’Äù ’ÄúFree Soul? ’ÄúToo early.’Äù He cut the conversation short with a simply dismissive yet deliciously mysterious ’Äúvery rare’Äù.
Being young, persistent and hungrily curious, I got him to open one sealed copy several visits to the Clinton/Washington stop on the G train later. I struggled to restrain my subconscious desire to listen for samples as the mellow, sunshiny madness of its electric pianos and vocal harmonies bathed my mind. I HAD to have the record, within 15 seconds of listening. But that wasn’Äôt happening, and for the first time my expressed interest in him finding me a copy was met with a ’ÄúI don’Äôt think that will happen.’Äù Now at this time, I always seemed to have a few mixes that were left open, waiting for that special joint that would bring closure to their story. The title track was just the thing to help finish one particular tape that had been left hanging for a frustratingly long time. It was fate. It needed to happen. Reluctantly, the record was handed over, Stoned Soul Picnic (the then-pressing tape) was made, and the whole episode was forgotten, tragically, long enough that my move out of my mom’Äôs, coupled with Sang’Äôs exodus to Elizabeth, NJ found us out of touch. Unlike many of my compatriots, I have never been shady about records, and I found the fact that I hadn’Äôt been able to return this album extremely troubling.
It is now years later. I hear through the grapevine that Sang has found religion and marriage, although I’Äôm not sure in what order. After a lifetime in NYC, my lady and I relocated to Vermont for some respite. Almost instinctively, one of my first friends in my new world, a young record-collector, made one of his first questions to me ’Äúso are you into records?’Äù A couple sessions later found him pawing through my records and honing in on the topic at hand with a simple ’ÄúBut what’Äôs up with THIS one?’Äù
Nate
Ben’Äôs response to that question was ’ÄúAmazing and random.’Äù I was so overwhelmed with his collection and had never seen or heard of the Melton Brothers or Alfie Moss so I made note of the album art and carried on looking. If my memory serves me right I don’Äôt even think I listened to it.
Fast-forward two weeks to Saturday July 16th and the story gets a little more interesting. I had this date marked on my calendar for several months. The significance? It was the Vermont Public Radio Vintage Vinyl Sale and Pledge drive. This sale was the culmination of several months of VPR’Äôs gathering of donated records from its devout listener base. I do all right for myself, but Vermont is by no means a record hot bed. And this sale was going to be it. This type of event is a complete anomaly in today’Äôs day and age of cut-throat diggers, overpriced records shows, and uptight dealers, I knew that I had to be on point and take advantage. 60,000 poorly publicized records for a flat $2 rate, that shit is CRAAAAAZY. After work on the day prior, I blew off dinner with my girlfriend (she came to understand why later on) and went to VPR to ’Äúhelp’Äù unload the tractor-trailer.
Everything had already been organized by genre over the preceding months, making it easy for me to browse the crates and set aside a jazz and soul stash for the next day. This enabled me to go into the sale relaxed and focused, knowing that I had already come off real nice. When it officially kicked off at noon, I took a mellow pace through all of the stacks of rock and folk. I ended my five-hour odyssey in the aptly titled ’Äúmisc’Äù section. I was awakened out of my vinyl-crack trance by my very patient and loving girlfriend, who was inquiring on how I was doing. I knew that it was time to let it go. On the way out I perused one last-discarded stack on the ground. The first record I locked into was The Melton Brothers Band, who were staring me squarely in the eyes. I took a huge sigh of relief knowing that my cherry topping was sitting before me. I paid for my records and walked into the sunset with a reassuring sense of victory.
When the needle hit the groove of ’ÄúLiving in the City’Äù later that night, I realized the magnitude of my good luck. After playing it several dozen times, my curiosity took control of me. I had to know more about this random piece. I pressed Ben for information: ’Äúwhy is my copy color and yours black and tan?’Äù and ’Äúwhat’Äôs up with this label? do people know about this record? who are they?’Äù But he had no answers, only mentioning that it was a revered album of his digging mentor. One Google search, a few emails, and a phone call later unearthed much more of the story!
The Melton Brothers Band is comprised of identical twin brothers Dale (Piano/Vocals) and Dennis (Bass/Vocals) Melton, Alfie Moss (Lead Vocals/Percussion), Tyrone Wilson (Drums/Vocals) and Bill Allman (washboard/percussion). Their one and only, self-produced album ’ÄúLiving in the City’Äù was recorded live over the course of three different performances in Delaware and Pennsylvania during the summer of 1978. The year made me scratch my head right away. It came as a shock to me that such a crazy album could have been produced in 1979. But, at the same time it made sense. Alfie and Melton Brother’Äôs Band had been playing together since 1972, which is the era that most of their influence is inherited from. The title track ’ÄúLiving in the City’Äù, is hard to pinpoint, freely utilizing elements of jazz, funk, blues, and soul. But vague genre adjectives don’Äôt really do the track justice.
Alfie’Äôs soaring vocals dance above and below the melody with an astonishing range and self-assured grace that is distinctly reminiscent of the legendary jazz vocalists of her early years. Dale’Äôs keyboard workout instantly sets the warm mood, as Dennis keeps the rhythm and Tyrone supplies the addicting boom-bap that simply makes you want to move. But the message of ’ÄúLiving in the City’Äù is what really hits me. The lyrics of the chorus meaningfully explain an infinitely complicated mindset in a very humble and inspirational manner.
’ÄúLiving in the city going nowhere fast
Trying to see my future
Working hard every day
Trying to find me a better way.’Äù
The other piece of heat on this LP is the funked-up cover of the Staple Singer’Äôs classic ’ÄúI’Äôll take you there’Äù. It starts of with long break which segue’Äôs into Alfie taking control, dropping soulful verbal and divvying out permission to solo with commands like ’Äúplunk the funk’Äù. She cues Tyrone’Äôs shining moment with the very significant chorus ’Äúwe don’Äôt need no music ’Äòcuz we got a drummer’Äù from which he unleashes one of the nastiest drum breaks I’Äôve ever heard. This is not to say that the rest of the album isn’Äôt tight musicianship. The remaining tracks bounce between straight ahead jazz and bluesy gospel, with a random reggae styled to round out its eclecticism. But the bottom line with this album is that throughout the recording it sounds like they are all having the times of their life, which in turn is quite uplifting. The crisp live recording allows you to visualize the bands energy. During every listen I picture Alfie strutting across the stage as the rest of the band exchange looks of approval, all realizing that they are part of something special.
Unfortunately this album was a promo piece for the studio that Melton Brothers never got off the ground so the amount produced and distributed was extremely limited. The brothers initially produced 250 copies of the colored LP but for whatever reason the rest of the band wasn’Äôt backing it so they rounded out the press with 1250 copies of the more visible black and tan version. The band today is better than ever and still frequently gigs around the mid-Atlantic minus Tyrone, whom Dale says he ’Äúregretfully lost touch with’Äù. Dale’Äôs reaction to this attention was nothing short of enthusiastic explaining that everyone in the band was inspired knowing there was a borderless interest for their music. Dale made it crystal clear that while he and the rest of his crew have real jobs and responsibilities, making music is still their main passion. If you find this record you, like myself, will be very happy. Reach Wax Poetics and Nate at www.waxpoetics.com.