Skip To Main Content
Join Newsletter

Wayne Mcghie And The Sounds Of Joy

Wayne Mcghie And The Sounds Of Joy

BY David DacksPublished Jun 1, 2004

The reappearance of Wayne McGhie's only album should indeed provoke a sound of joy among soul fans. Here's a guy who hasn't played in about 25 years, and who has suffered a great deal from mental illness in the interim. The Jamaican expat and his music were a prime example of the first flourishing of Toronto's sizable West Indian community within the booming R&B club scene at the time. The liner notes may be the most remarkable aspect of this disc, lovingly detailing just how swinging the scene was in Toronto, which was just a short haul from Detroit in terms of touring. The master tapes and most of the copies of this disc perished in a fire at Quality Records' warehouse. Fortunately rescued, the disc is a simmering stew of covers and originals. The record is defined by three elements: the laid-back-but-on-point drums that evoke the very essence of pure hip-hop, McGhie's implacable vocal style, and the sonorous organ that sounds like it kept going south once it hit Muscle Shoals. Two tracks in particular are breaks for the ages: the Meters-esque "Dirty Funk" — the main reason crate diggers sought out this record in the first place — and a great version of "Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye.” The band really cuts loose on the McGhie original "Cool It" with R&B horns married to a pop-a-top early reggae groove. As an album, this is solid, but as a story, it's inspirational.
(Light In The Attic)

Latest Coverage