by Thom JurekStanley Clarke's debut solo effort was issued when he was already a seasoned jazz veteran, and a member of Chick Corea's Return To Forever, which at the time of this recording also included Joe Farrell on soprano sax and flute, the Brazilian team of vocalist Flora Purim and drummer/percussionist Airto Moreira. Produced by Corea, who plays Rhodes, clavinette, and acoustic piano on Children Of Forever, the band included flutist Arthur Webb, then-new RTF drummer Lenny White, guitarist Pat Martino, and a vocal pairing in the inimitable Andy Bey and Dee Dee Bridgewater on three of the five cuts-- Bey appears on four. Clarke plays both electric and acoustic bass on the set; and while it would be easy to simply look at this recording as an early fusion date, that would be a tragic mistake. If anything, Children Of Forever is a true cousin to Norman Connors' classic Dance Of Magic and Dark Of Light albums, which were also released in 1973-Clarke played bass on both. This is basically funky, spiritual jazz in the best sense. Yes, jazz. That wonderfully mercurial, indefinable force that brings into itself the whole of music, from popular to classical and folk forms, and makes something new out of them. The long title track with its killer vocal interplay between Bridgewater and Bey is seductive from the jump. Add Clarke's big fat bassline, which is mellow and meaty at the beginning, and after the long piano and guitar breaks in the middle, becomes dirty, fuzzy and spacey by the end as the cut leans into souled-out funk. The "message" tunes that make up this music balance the dawning of the future as the logical place of Black consciousness-where a new day was indeed emerging from the struggles of the 50s and 60s. Add to this the cosmic looking cover, and its wieghed electric and acoustic underpinnings and you have the makings of a timeless classic. Indeed, no matter how one feels about Clarke's later work, which aimed for the harder and funkier realms of disco and urban soul as well as keeping his jazz chops intact, this disc in every sense is forward looking and memorable. Bridgewater's lead vocal interaction with Webb's flute on "Unexpected Days," with Bey helping on the bridge and refrain is awe-inspiring. The ensemble is focused on "song." Corea's has rarely sounded so naturally funky as he does here and his production is free of the hard, sometimes brittle sound he would employ with the Al DiMeola-Lenny White version of RTF. The centerpiece of the disc is a vehicle for Clarke, called "Bass Folk Song."... Read More...