Welcome return of War

February 14, 1996
Issue 

Peace Sign
War
ARG Records through BMG
Reviewed by Norm Dixon
There was a time when soul music provided some very political and socially aware music. Like today's hip hop, and like most earlier styles of African American music, soul reflected the concerns, worries, and frustrations of the black community. Of course, soul music primarily reflected the community's wish to forget its troubles, dance and have fun. The first soul performers — Ray Charles being the most seminal — secularised the rafter-shaking, ecstatic gospel songs. The righteous passion of the pews was replaced with sensual passions. Soul music was consciously and unashamedly black, in both style and words. Soul songs celebrated the dialect of the ghetto. It was hip, drenched in double entendres and brimming with black pride and confidence. Early '60s soul reflected the political and social optimism of a mobilised black community that had won significant gains in the mass civil rights struggle since the late '50s. Gospel and soul accompanied the mass actions for civil rights. Like the blues, soul music sought "to tell it like it is". This was at first overwhelmingly, but not solely, through the prism of male-female relationships. Where the blues concentrated on survival, making the best of a bad situation, soul music went further and spoke about how it should be. Where the blues were morally agnostic, soul advocated "goodness" (albeit a very conventional sort). The essence of soul music in the early '60s was that hardship should not simply be tolerated, but overcome and life not just accepted, but improved. As the '60s rolled on, much soul music became explicitly political and militant. The early naivete fell away, to be replaced by a celebration of struggle and pride. In "Say It Loud, I'm Black and I'm Proud", James Brown sang: "We'd rather die on our feet than keep living on our knees". The slavery days equation of the train image and freedom again became common. Syl Johnson's "Is It Because We're Black" describes the cause and the solution: "They're holding us back/ I believe it's because we're black/ But hey! We can't stop now/ Gotta keep on, keep on, keep on keeping on." By the late '60s, much of soul's early optimism was gone, leached out by the hard reality that the US was racist to the core and by the commercialisation and dilution of soul music. The late '60s bought a more hard-edged, rhythmic, more "black" instrumental soul to the fore, which became known by the early '70s as funk. Lyrics again emphasised blackness and "black power" politics. War was one of the great soul-funk bands. I first came across a few of their albums 10 years ago while rummaging through old LPs in a dusty little second-hand shop on the NSW Central Coast. Apart from some embarrassingly named and distinctly odd, but still listenable, albums with ex-Animal Eric Burdon (Black Man's Burdon was one aptly named album), War created some truly brilliant street funk. Its trademarks were the tightest of rhythm sections, fat horn riffs, a penchant for jazz-influenced improvisation over very LA latin tempos, and some very funky flute and harmonica. Album tracks regularly extended into 10 minutes and beyond grooves. Lyrics were wry social and political commentary. "The world is a ghetto" is perhaps their best-known and most-covered song. War's return, with the release of Peace Sign, is cause for celebration. Four of the band's original members feature on the album, and it does not disappoint. Overall, the album is dedicated to the themes of unity in the black community, support for continued struggle and positivity. The title track is a celebration of the peace pact between the two warring youth gangs, the Bloods and the Crips, that for many years tore the black community apart. The theme of community unity continues in "East LA", a dreadfully overproduced homage to that part of Los Angeles where Latin American culture and language predominate. "Da Roof" updates War's 100% funk with solid hip hop beats, adds some nice African rhythms and some wonderful funk harmonica. In "What If", War poses and answers some pertinent questions: "What if teachers got paid like football stars?/ There wouldn't be so many young minds locked behind bars .../ Ever wondered what if there was nothing but peace?/ Ask the red man or big Cochise .../ Ever wondered what if they gave the world enough to eat? .../What if the Statue of Liberty she turned her back?/ All you refugees, you better think about that." "Homeless Hero" is without doubt the best track. It is a powerful and moving song about the plight of black veterans and bitterness towards the Vietnam war: "Vietnam took my brothers/ 58,322 Americans killed in action/ Fighting a war that could not be won/ A homeless man was found lying dead in the streets/ In his hands he had a Silver Star and a Purple Heart/ He died last night all alone/ I think they'll just mark his grave simply 'Unknown'/ Another unknown Homeless Hero."

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