Chains & Black Exhaust

Somewhere between a historical document and a mixtape – appropriate given that it emerged via Memphix, a collective of DJs and funk collectors, notably including writer/archivist Dante Cafagna – Chains and Black Exhaust, first released in 2003 and then with a slightly different tracklisting in 2008, became something of a cause celebre. It can easily be seen as a kind of Nuggets for Black rock acts of the late 60s and early to mid 70s, gathering barely-heard singles and cuts by performers turned on by the blazing example of Jimi Hendrix and the mutating approaches of the Isley Brothers and the P-Funk universe among many more. That said, a big difference to Nuggets, though not a unique one in the free-for-all of the post-Napster universe, was a complete lack of liner notes and tracklisting on top of its bootleg status, though with time more information was readily dug up and shared online. Regardless, it’s a feast of wah-wah, deep funk, and general fire. One track, the shaggy dog sauciness of “The Devil Made Me Do It” by Curtis Knight Zeus, has a hell of a family tree: frontman Knight himself had performed with pre-fame Hendrix while lead guitarist Eddie Clarke was just a couple of years away from joining the classic Motorhead lineup.

This 2002 mix disc (calling it a compilation would imply that someone paid for the rights to the music) assembled by record collector Dante Carfagna gathered 15 ultra-obscure tracks by US Black funk and rock bands from the late ’60s and early ’70s. In some cases, these groups only ever released a single, one side of which is included here; others managed to put out an album or two before vanishing into obscurity. The music is all clattering backbeat, fuzzed-out guitar and ragged-but-right vocal harmonies, making the Chambers Brothers and Westbound-era Funkadelic sound like the Fifth Dimension by comparison. Black Merda’s “Cynthy Ruth,” Iron Knowledge’s “Show Stopper,” and Blackrock’s “Yeah, Yeah” in particular are head-spinning heavy psych. The front cover is a photo of the headquarters of the Thunderbirds motorcycle gang, and it’s easy to imagine these songs cranking on the stereo inside.