Thursday, April 1, 2010

Analog Soul

Brooklyn, N.Y.

The reasons for the satisfying success of the old-school soul unit Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings come together at this small, hand-built recording studio in a rickety brick row house in the Bushwick section. Nearby, chained guard dogs laze in the early spring sun. Next door to Daptone Records' headquarters, an auto-body shop quakes with industry. It's a likely location for a studio that's the opposite of state-of-the-art.

With its out-of-fashion tape-recording equipment, the House of Soul studio, as it's known, gives the Dap-Kings' music a resonance that recalls the delightfully greasy soul tracks cut some four decades ago at Stax or Royal Recording in Memphis, Tenn., the Muscle Shoals Sound Studios in Sheffield, Ala., or Malaco's studio in Jackson, Miss. Ms. Jones and the Dap-Kings built this studio by hand; she's proud to tell you she wired the electrical sockets. Under the floorboards in the isolation booth, where singers and soloists record their parts, are old tires stuffed with clothes to give the space vibrancy and warmth. Mark Ronson brought Amy Winehouse here to record tracks for her monster hit "Back to Black," with the Dap-Kings providing instrumental support. The framed platinum album the Dap-Kings received for their contributions is on the musty basement's floor, not far from what looks like a paint-by-numbers portrait of Stevie Wonder.

The studio reflects the spirit of the Dap-Kings, a self-contained unit dedicated to straight-to-the-gut soul, as their new album attests. Out next week, "I Learned the Hard Way" (Daptone) features the Dap-Kings laying down a solid foundation under Ms. Jones, who as a vocalist is somehow defiant yet vulnerable. To be sure, Gabriel Roth's arrangements and production celebrate classic soul recordings, but to call "I Learned the Hard Way" retro is to miss the point: This is the kind of American music whose commercial fortunes may ebb and flow, but as an art form it is everlasting. "There ain't nothing retro about me," Ms. Jones told me. "We're not hopping on anybody's band wagon."

The Dap-Kings comprise a three-piece horn section with a bone-rattling baritone sax, two guitars, Mr. Roth's bass, drums and Ms. Jones—a tiny dynamo with a big voice and bigger stage presence. In concert, they come out and hit hard from the opening note of a soul revue hosted by their guitarist Binky Griptite. On disc, the Dap-Kings are wall-to-wall soul, with abundant nods to their predecessors. But they're well aware it's no longer the '60s music scene. If it were, and radio played soul and R&B with the joy and frequency it once did, two songs on the new album—"She Ain't a Child No More" and "Better Things"—would be hit singles.

Ms. Jones joined the Dap-Kings a decade ago. Media make much of her brief stint as a corrections officer at New York's Rikers Island prison, but more relevant is her rollercoaster experiences as a singer. Thwarted early in her career by a thoughtless young producer who told her she lacked the look to be a star, Ms. Jones sang in a successful wedding band for almost 20 years before walking away to join the Dap-Kings, who had an unwavering commitment to soul music.

"I was turning down a $500 gig for a $75 gig," Ms. Jones said. "But I felt it's what I had to do." The Dap-Kings had secured a residency at a club in Barcelona, providing the singer with her first trip overseas, but those close to her thought she'd made a mistake. "My own family said, 'What is she doing running around Europe with these guys?'"

The band's furious stage show helped it build its reputation and lock in its sound. In 2004-05, it played more than 250 shows in 14 countries. The Dap-Kings' breakthrough album, "100 Days, 100 Nights," followed. Critics caught on, and countless TV and festival appearances followed. College-age members of the audiences who hadn't lived through soul's great era heard the band and introduced it to their parents. Ms. Jones and the Dap-Kings were no longer seen as a nostalgia act out on the fringe.
[dapkings] Associated Press

Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings.

"We knew we were on to a good thing," Mr. Jones said. "We weren't making any money before, but now we were on a roll." Without a regular income, Ms. Jones had moved in with her mother in Far Rockaway, Queens. Now she was able to get out on her own again.

On the heels of "100 Days," new opportunities beckoned. Ms. Jones worked with Lou Reed and had a role in Denzel Washington's "The Great Debaters." "Finally, my look paid off," Ms. Jones told me with a wry smile. The Dap-Kings backed Al Green. The full unit appeared on the all-star charity album "Dark Was the Night." Back in Bushwick, sessions began for "I Learned the Hard Way," a title that reflected Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings' rise to success.

As for the studio, with its analog recording equipment and reel-to-reel tapes, Mr. Roth, who produces under the name Bosco Mann, said: "It's all just a tool. Analog sounds good, but it's more important to have a good drummer." Owning the House of Soul means the Dap-Kings don't have to rent costly studio space by the hour, he added. The trick is to avoid the trappings of success and make better records. And to let Ms. Jones continue to blossom.

"Sharon has an unmatched ability to connect with an audience," he said. "She can't mail it in. As she says, what comes from the heart reaches the heart."

By JIM FUSILLI

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