china burton

“You Don’t

Care (About

Our Love)” (Logo Records) 1979

I had known China Burton for about two years before discovering that he had made this spellbinding disco-soul 12inch back in 1979. His weekly visits to Reckless Records in London’s Soho were always a laugh riot, as befits a fifty-threeyear-old camp eccentric. I used to make house mix-CDs that he would rave about for hours, greatly appreciating the soulful side of the music.

One day, a fellow disco digger asked me if I knew a U.K. 12-inch by China Burton that he had recently found. I then remembered China saying he used to write songs for various artists in the ’70s and ’80s, but he never mentioned releasing a single. Once, I remember China pulling a record from the racks, saying he had cowritten it with U.K. disco artist/ writer Nick Straker. The record was “Do You Want It Right Now” by Degrees of Motion, which was a massive club hit in 1991.

I bought my friend’s copy of “You Don’t Care (About Our Love)” for £50 without even listening to it. Soon afterwards, I made the mistake of telling a fellow dealer about the record, who of course found a copy and put it on eBay with an MP3 sound clip. Disco collectors went crazy for it, and it sold for £150. The next one went for around £300.

Next time I met China, I asked him about the record. He was absolutely amazed that not only had I rediscovered it, but also how much it sold for. He asked for a CD copy, as he hadn’t heard it in twenty-five years. China told me he had recorded it in March 1979 at Lansdowne Studios, Notting Hill, with producer Adam Sieff.

China remembers Logo Records allocating an unusually large budget to the production team, reflected in the unique sound. It doesn’t sound like a typical U.K. disco production. The relentless string harmonies coupled with horn stabs amid the almost absurd sub-bass resonance echoing underneath the multiple layers of congas, drums, and percussion are what make this record a standout. And, of course, there are China’s superb vocals, which were acknowledged by Laurence Ronson, father of Mark, who consequently advanced China £30,000 for a record deal with his own Paper Music. Such a large sum of money was definitely nothing to be sniffed at, which is unfortunately what Mr. Burton proceeded to do with his advance. The Devil’s Dandruff was probably responsible for denying disco fiends further delights from China, although he did continue writing into the ’80s. He is now an international art dealer. .

Zaf Chowdhry

Pastor t. L. barrEtt and thE youth For christ choir

Like a Ship…(Without a Sail) (M.Z.G.P.) 1971

Every once in a while, a record will rise to the surface and open your ears to a new kind of sound. Not a new genre or fad, but a whole new depth of listening. The sound bubbling out of the grooves loosens whatever preconceived notions of the rocky world of auditory waves you may have built for yourself. And this sturdy wax raft can deliver you from dark shores to a bright future. Pastor T. L. Barrett Jr. is the perfect captain to weather the storms and bring this ship home safely.

Born in Jamaica, Queens, in 1944, Barrett bounced between his birthplace and Chicago, where he struggled to survive the infamous Chicago Housing Authority projects. He eventually settled in Chicago and was soon called to pastor the Mt. Zion Baptist Church in 1968. It was a tumultuous year for America with the murders of Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy. Tensions had hit the high-water mark and riots threatened to drown Chi-Town when it hosted the Democratic National Convention that summer.

Pastor Barrett could hear the sound on the horizon. The sound of anger, of change, the sound of soul—it was all around him in the Windy City, and it began to swell in him as he built his vessel over the next few years. When it was finally seaworthy, he knew he had something; the music was raw and funky, but he took a lot of flak for working with young, nonprofessional singers. He held fast, knowing that they were the crew for him if he intended on making the songs come alive the way he heard them rippling over the waters. Like any good captain, he knew he would need some experienced hands to help him keep on course. So he picked up some Chicago heavyweights along his travels: Phillip Upchurch and Richard Evans (bass), Charles Pittman and Stanley Fox (drums), and supervision from Gene Barge. But the writing and arrangements are all T.L.’s; as it says in the liner notes, “He plays what he hears and writes what he feels.”

“Like a Ship” is a testament; it lurches forward on a soft wave of tambourines that sound like chains hitting a hull. The powerful rhythm section lifts Barrett’s simple, melodic keyboard riff high, as the boisterous choir fills the air with sorrow and hope. His ship may not have had a sail, but he knew he could make it. .

Robbie Busch