Monday at the FIJM: in an hour, it will be the turn of Lee Fields and his Expressions to occupy the main stage of the Place des festivals. Yet, in and around the media section, only Kamasi Washington is talked about. Last Saturday, he more than impressed: amazed! It’s as if he were still there, physically immovable, musically superior. A presence, a force.
Still, all those who follow him on the big stage of the Place des Festivals have their work cut out for them and something to eat. Even when your name is Lee Fields, when you have soul funk in your body, when you are one of the last survivors of the era of great showmans, starting with the late James Brown, to whom he is inevitably compared . He’s the one we went looking for when we needed fittings in a biopic on Soul Brother Number One: let’s say he’s Soul Brother Number 2.0.
Closer to authenticity
A real one, but not the best of the best. Certainly the best we could wish for in 2022. The opening track, covered by the Olympians, sets the tone: the Expressions are an impeccable backing band, with everything you need, the very sharp guitar hatches , the brass very 1972, the Hammond B-3 organ. We are somewhere between Booker T. and his MG’s at the time of Melting Pot and Curtis Mayfield solo. Solid references. It’s both very authentic and not quite that.
Let me explain. Lee Fields is very vocal, and still performing, no complaints. It offers a very good show. Only here, it is not really his. Let us specify: his first 45 rpm appeared more than discreetly in 1969, and it was quite a few years later that he emerged. These are his albums of recent years, which are very obviously Otis Redding at James Brown via Sam Moore, which he defends as if it were his time. He is certainly the ideal type for the cast, but we are still with an heir among others, much more than in the presence of a true pioneer.
Do not sulk his pleasure
The cry stamped Brother James, the ecstatic stutters of Otis, it is taken very pleasantly if one is not too fussy about the constituent elements of the formula. I’m. They will tell me that I shunned my pleasure and they will be right. Who else can be too soulful in Montreal on a beautiful Monday evening in July? Who brews and cradles such a vast and varied audience?
Only here, I have a tenacious list of great deceased in mind. That’s my problem: I identify borrowings too easily. You might as well go watch a show from the Stax European tour of 1967. People who came to fill their ears and hearts were in their right place this Monday evening. At the Place des festivals with thousands of other satiated. Thanks to Lee Fields.