Making in through the '60s as a well respected accompanist as well as band leader, Jimmy McGriff wouldn't gain the notoriety that his buddy Jimmy Smith did. And while there's an honest and deep debate about which of those gentlemen is mo' funky, it's heedless. McGriff's work though, bears out any sort of evidence that one might need in order to enter into such a discourse. And being inspired as much by Richard 'Groove' Holmes as the blues, McGriff cut a wedge outta funky soul music that enabled him to eventually move to Jersey and found a supper club that featured live musics. And while the organist would revisit his past successes - as on his '67 I've Got a New Woman - it always sounded fresh.

 

Growing up in Pennsylvania, McGriff wouldn't begin playing keys when he discovered music. Initially he played bass in a number of trios around his home town. But subsequent to a stint in the military as well as being a policeman (of all things) in Philadelphia, McGriff was drawn back to music when Jimmy Smith was suddenly able to make a decent living tapping those keys. In '56 McGriff took up the B-3 and honed his skills in the privacy of his home for a period of about six months time before making his way to Julliard where he would eventually study. But the success that McGriff would have, initially at least, would be based upon the work of another entertainer - Ray Charles.

 

The late fifties had made the pianist famous and McGriffs organ group was requested to give "I Got A Woman" a makeover. His rendition - and the rest of his first album's singles - elevated McGriff to relative stardom. And for that very reason on his 1967 album, I've Got a New Woman, McGriff again culled the classic, but set it next to a spate of other well know tracks.

 

It might not seem like the most forward thinking release - especially considering what else was going on in rock and jazz at the time. But the resultant disc, while perhaps sounding as if it was from a period of time just passed, still managed to maintain enough funky, punchy moments as to make the Solid State released album a sought after commodity.

 

Again, beginning the album off with Charles' classic set a pace for the remainder of the disc. The following "Kiko," with its recognizable and whistlable melody finds McGriff extending those gritty key embellishments to new territory - not new progressions, thoughts or feelings. The music still holds a palpable life to it that most other music can't possess. And although a few of the other selections on here come off as a bit odd - "You are My Sunshine," which for the most part avoids the childlike feel that the song should have and "Embraceable You," that sadly devolves into dinner music - the album is a sensible slab of funk to be included in McGriff's discography.