In writing and listening to entirely too much jazz, it's become at least semi apparent that the '70s were occasionally a troublesome time for the medium - not in the same way that the '80s were. But that decade, while featuring some extraordinary heights of musicality as well as vision, at points, gave away to indulgent nonsense.

The inclusion of spiritual overtones began in the '60s with Coltrane's ascent to the pantheon of artists that folks aren't allowed to dislike. But in his wake a slew of players copped the spirit and made off into the night with it. Pharaoh Sanders worked, for a time at least, with these precepts, but even he, at times, hit the low points of music. Experimentation, obviously, has its draw backs

Much in the way rock music would go underground during the '70s, the same thing happened to jazz. And resultantly, a grip of independently released albums were self released. Just like rock music, though, some of this small run discs have gained some cultural import not necessarily because of the music purported in these grooves, but just scarcity. Anything in small quantity, if it possesses any worth, is eventually blown out and drooled over for little reason.

That doesn't mean that the fellows in Birthright - the main dudes and sax players being Joe Ford and Paul Gresham- weren't imbued with some innate talent, they were. It's just the way in which the group expressed that talent on the 1976 Breath of Life hasn't aged well.

When was the last time you were at the dentist? Whenever that was, this album may have been playing as you sat in the waiting room, reading a four year old Sports Illustrated. It's that cheesy. Again, the style that these folks chose to play in doesn't dictate whether or not they've got talent - they do. But they've also got some poor taste.

The album is pretty much a series of tracks that Birthright work out in a medium or fast pace. There's nary a slow jam to be found - which is surprising. Again, each soloist, which here includes a guitarist in contrast to an earlier release, is more the talented enough to take on whatever musical feet he deems worthy. It's just full of cheese.

If the music itself weren't foul enough to make your ears fold into themselves to stop the never ending wankery, the band decided to include Beverly Simms as a vocalist here. Thankfully, she doesn't appear on every track, but when she does crop up, it's none too pleasant.

Apart from all of that, it's a fine outing.

If you own two turntables - and actually find this thing on the cheap, which isn't too likely - snag it. There are unquestionably some tracks on here ready for sampling. But even with that, there doesn't really seem to be any good reason as to why Birthright has maintained a modicum of notoriety. It won't keep me up at night, but I'll surely have some gnarly flashbacks at the dentist the next time I go.