by Shane O'Malley Firek
In this day and age, a soul “revival” may come across as nostalgia gone awry. Artists will mine the past for any wares that may come their way. The past is more accessible to humankind than ever before. In the age of infinite playlists and widespread marketing, tagging an act as a soul or funk band could be a cop-out or an easy way to make a buck.
Ghost Funk Orchestra, the recording-come-live-band-juggernaut project of once solo artist Seth Applebaum curves the past in their own way. Being populated by members of Brooklyn’s DIY music scene, the sound is gritty and raw, with echo and layers abound.
Similar to their contemporaries Black Pumas, there’s something more subtle and modern than just pulling from the crates of their idols. GFO’s latest release, A Song For Paul, lands somewhere between Bitches Brew, Weather Report and Can, a cacophony thusly slathered in New York’s grime and impatience.
“Walk Like A Motherfucker,” a jagged 60’s spy movie groove, rolls along with plenty of saturation and drenched female vocals. Then the horns cut through the mix and the song’s pulse really sets in. The title track, “A Song For Paul,” shakes around and reminds you that this band is capable of shapeshifting, a song that slowly crawls to its samba beat before twisting into something else entirely. The album breaks into instrumentals often, with “Broken Boogaloo” coming in like a walk after the manic “Seven Eight,” a live favorite.
Whether you’re at home, lighting a joint and laying back, or blasting these songs in your headphones to block out the noise of your commute, A Song For Paul is an endearing journey into what the future holds for big band, jazz, and funk. Applebaum should be proud of what he and his group have created, and the product is as rich as it is jarring.