BS&T comeback a mixed blessing

by Bill Brina, The Knickerbocker News, July 7, 1975

As the newly reunited David Clayton-Thomas & Blood, Sweat and Tears came out onto the Saratoga Performing Arts Center stage, one loudmouthed gentleman sitting nearby let out a cry of “Bring back Chick Corea!” That heckler may have lacked manners, but as it turned out, he didn’t lack prescience. Unfortunately, he was right.

Chick Corea’s band, Return to Forever, had opened the Fourth of July show with an all-too-brief but incredibly dynamic set of outstanding, sprightly electronic jazz-rock. RTF has occasionally been criticized by some, including this writer, for excessive attention to commercial appeal, and some of that attention is still in evidence. But RTF is just so good at what it does that such criticism is basically irrelevant. The band’s heavy emphasis on electronic colorings and Lenny White’s Cobhamesque powerhouse drumming make comparisons to the original Mahavishnu Orchestra inevitable. But RTF goes well beyond what McLaughlin’s band pioneered. Chick and bassist/co-leader Stanley Clarke write lithe, bouncy tunes that are far more musical than those of most jazz-rockers, including McLaughlin’s, and RTF’s soloing is brief, meaty, and to the point. In fact, guitarist Al Di Meola’s solos ought to have been longer (a rare criticism to make in this genre of music); the whole set ought to have been longer! It was that good.

Blood, Sweat & Tears were that bad. That’s unfortunate, because there’s a lot of talent in the band. The musicians, particularly drummer Bobby Colomby, are competent and likeable, and one wishes them well.

Part of the problem is David Clayton-Thomas himself. His singing is adequate, but his vocal mannerisms are mindless, stiff, and irritating. When he ad-libs a gospel chorus or two on the end of a verse, he seems so unconvincing that one feels embarrassed. Perhaps his real future is as a Las Vegas headliner.

The rest of the problem lies with the band’s arrangements. Pianist Larry Willis is an on-stage encyclopedia of every trivial cliché of cocktail-lounge jazz and would serve nicely as Exhibit A for the case against the electric piano as a jazz instrument (were it not for Corea’s earlier presence, Larry’s fuzzed tinkling might have sealed the case). And though David himself has returned to BS&T, the horn players who originally appeared with him have not. Their replacements are adequate performers, but no one seems to be in charge of the arrangements now, and it shows. On the album, producer Jimmy Lenner covered these chores; in concert, the band lumbers about the elegance and grace of a blind bull elephant.

Unless BS&T finds or develops a good arranger, the comeback isn’t going to work. The public isn’t exactly pining for the band, anyway. I doubt they drew more than 6,000, a number of whom were observed leaving early—especially after the band played on through a ten-minute failure of the sound system.

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