
(Rhino)
RECOMMENDED
Don't even try to make head or tail of commercial disco-funk mavens B.T. Express' history -- the B.T. stands for "Brooklyn Trucking," the band having been an offshoot of a celebrated Brooklyn unit called the House Rockers known for local dance parties. Somewhere in between all that they were a trio known as the Madison Street Express. The details of these convoluted origins are eclipsed by the nights the group fired up during a short-lived but huge (in R&B terms) period of commercial success. The consistency of the band's work during its prolific mid-to-late '70s peak is captured quite nicely by this extremely fun and listenable Rhino compilation.
The seven-piece blazed onto radio with the casual, contained energy of "Do it ('Til You're Satisfied)," a hook-filled soul pastiche that sets the stage for much of what's to follow, particularly a sonic fullness with a robust dual attack of saxophones, contrasted by a slightly generic quality in the arrangements. To be frank, this is all very mainstream studio pop, which is why the Express had so little trouble consistently nearing the top of the R&B charts and making a constant presence in black clubs -- but without a serious, protracted break into the mainstream, perhaps unfairly denied them. They never gained the air of Legitimacy, whatever that means, that would've lent them the critical acclaim afforded someone like Chic. It's no longer possible to really understand why, now that '70s sheen just sounds cool to us.
Unfortunately, for all the heights they reached in the '70s, B.T. Express haven't been able to glean much of a revivalist audience in recent years either, perhaps because their work is unabashed pop that doesn't fit with the "eccentric soul" material now in vogue. That's a pity because this music has as broad an appeal as any of the great '70s soul; you hear this CD and don't feel like moving your ass and raising the roof, consider yourself bloodless. What's most endearing is how well B.T. Express can take a cornball idea like the novelty train song "Express," sort of a watered-down Rufus Thomas thing, and turn it into a disco juggernaut -- the kitsch, the fun, the sex all hang together like in the best and most intellectually dubious pop music. And the sci-fi R&B move "Mental Telepathy" might be ridiculous, but try to deny it's more fun than a night at the drive-in. Catchier, too.
The only serious objections one can have to these songs are largely based on tweaks that could have made the singles a bit tighter; for instance, "If It Don't Turn You On" is a strong, well-written James Brown-like funk number marred solely by a vocal performance that's all too calm for the title, subject matter, rhythm, and gist. Luckily, the same idea is fully realized later on the enormous "Can't Stop Groovin' Now, Wanna Do It Some More," which makes no qualms about its expert and infectious capturing of 1976 as an aural drama for the ears. Few disco tracks come to life so uproariously, so effortlessly, while still capturing their era this precisely. I think the most impressive song Rhino's included, though, is the uproariously ballsy, insane cover of the Carpenters' "Close to You," which demolishes the original the way Al Green singing "Light My Fire" demolishes the Doors. An insipid pop song dripping with manipulative banality somehow becomes a monstrous soul firecracker -- never has it been more clear that pop greatness is all in the performances. I never thought I'd say this in any context, but: "Close to You" smokes.
Anyone with a taste for this period of soul music is advised to give a churn through The Best of B.T. Express, and anyone in need of a perfect party disc will find it irresistible, largely because Rhino's sequence is so expert -- the intensity never flags, and the comp stays remarkably steady from start to end for a full eighty minutes. It's easy to imagine that the band has enough great material to keep going for a second disc, too. The most wholehearted utility, though, for B.T. Express is as a bit of steaming comfort. They aren't one of the top '70s groups but their reliability makes their work addictive and warmly refreshing. This music is so easy on the ear it can prove therapeutic; think of it as bubblegum funk. And what's wrong with dancing in the living room as a form of therapy, I ask you?