Joy Unlimited

Butterflies

(a.k.a. Schmetterlinge)


Joy Unlimited: Mounted Insects! Er, I mean, Butterflies!

I suppose it would be all too predictable of me to lionize a seven-piece group for its multi-instrumental talent, what with a bassist doubling on trumpet and a guitarist who also stretches out ably on flute and tympani, but with Joy Unlimited, there is one bright star that outshines them all, and that star is Joy Fleming.

In Germany she is an R&B legend, their homegrown version of Aretha Franklin. The rest of Europe knows her mainly for her appearance at the 1975 Eurovision Song Contest, where (performing "Ein Lied kann eine Brücke sein") she wiped the floor with the competition as far as emotional, strong performances go...but Eurovision being the stodgy, ossified institution that worships mediocrity and blandness that it is, she finished somewhere near the bottom. Those from North America, if they know her at all, know her mainly for one 1971 album recorded by her breakthrough band Joy Unlimited entitled Butterflies. It is this very album which I'll be discussing here today. Though more exactly, they remember the album mainly for one song. I'll get to that in a minute.

It all began with the birth of Erna Strube in 1944. She grew up in the Ludwigshafen/Mannheim region of Germany. She started off singing in the school choir, but secretly yearned to sing R&B in the American style. She got her wish when she fell in with some local rock musicians, whence she took on the stage name Joy Fleming. The group began their life in the late 60's as Joy and the Hit Kids. After a couple of singles, they changed their name to the more classy Joy Unlimited, and proceeded to take the country by storm. Many live dates followed, and their legend began to grow.

In 1970, their debut LP appeared. Entitled Overground, and consisting of a mix of original material and covers (notably the Beatles' "All Together Now" and Elton John's "Border Song"), it garnered nearly universal positive reviews. It was even released in the UK and the States*. Naturally, one has to ask, how can you top that? How about by collaborating with a would-be classical composer to make a rock ballet?

You heard right, the music on Butterflies was originally composed to accompany a ballet. Some of it I can imagine some abstract movements to, yet at other times, I am dumbfounded as to ponder how it could possibly have been staged. Since it's rather obscure, I guess any hope of seeing a video version of Schmetterlinge (the original German title) would be highly unlikely indeed. At any rate, Butterflies certainly makes quite an impression aurally, in part because of the strength and undeniable talent of the instrumental unit, but also because of the powerful vocal presence of their frontwoman.

"Rudiment" opens the album, and the introductory "Contacts" tableau, with a heartbeat. Literally. The recorded heartbeat segues gradually into a drumbeat, and with a fill, it's on to the main theme, expressed on bass, organ and slightly distorted guitar. That's basically all there is to "Rudiment," a rockin' fanfare ending with a gong hit. It segues directly to "Connection," where we get our first real taste of Joy. "Come and touch my mind so I will touch your mind," she sings. Well, it's not really what she's singing as the way she sings it. Her voice is just so full of such raw emotion and amazing power that it just lifts you up and away and into another world. And she's not even at full-blast yet! Certainly her status as a blue-eyed soul legend in Germany is confirmed before we even get to the chorus, she's just that good. Oh, did I forget there's a six piece band backing her? The main verse features piano, cymbal and flute accents over sustained organ chords, the chorus is a more rockin' affair with fortissimo organ and distorted guitar to the fore. There's also a staccato instrumental middle section with spiky marimba and organ unison lines with the bass vamping underneath. After a final repeat of the chorus and one final verse, we're led back into the "Rudiment" theme. Mind you, the two tracks together total only about four-and-a-half minutes. After the final, heavily sustained gong hit, it's off to...

"That's the key," which starts with a gentle theme expressed on organ and vibes, eventually joined by Joy's wordless voice. Here she shows her true veratility, on the last track she was wailing like a soul sister, while here her voice achieves an almost classical "Lieder"-like quality. Eat your heart out, Annie Haslam! Eventually they're joined by trumpet and phase-shifted sax, ending on an ascending unison motive that we'll here repeated throughout the album. Then the first verse begins. It's very 1971 sounding, with Chicago/BS&T-like horns and electric piano, and more silly lyrics, but it's all forgivable. It's interrupted by a bass solo backed by phase-shifted organ and sustained horn backing, ending with the ascending motif again. Then it's back to the baroque opening theme again, repeated a couple of times and ending on a climactic crescendo chord, leading us directly into the rather minimalistic, but nonetheless amazing "For you and me." The track opens with a heart-stopping, heavily fuzzed-out guitar riff. Seriously, I played this for a friend, and he said something to the effect of, "Black Sabbath would kill for that guitar sound!" Another drum fill leads us into the main theme, basically that relentless guitar riff backed by organ and drums and Joy singing. The only lyrics in this song, by the way, are right there in the title...I mean, unless you count "Whoa! Come on, baby!" and...er, "UNGHH! UNGHH!" The middle of the track features an incendiary distorted guitar solo backed by sustained, orchestral chords expressed on organ and horns, subjected to that ubiquitous phasing. After that, it's back to Joy "For you and me"-ing, and gradually freaking out delightfully as the sax player wails free-jazz style. It all ends with that ascending unison figure yet again.

The sound of bombs and air-raid sirens open "Suppression" [sic], the first track of tableau II: Manifestations, a short instrumental with a strong proto-fusion feel, with organ, sax and guitar playing the memorable unison lines as the bass and electric piano vamp underneath them. There's a brief and very "out" sax solo under which the organ stabs out some very dissonant chords, then it's back to the main theme, followed by a very impressive accelerando figure over which the sax does more freaky things leading to the very dark and ominous coda.

What follows is by far the album's most notorious track, and before Joy even starts singing, you'll probably already have an inkling why. The main riff to "Rankness" immediately announces itself as a slow, ponderously heavy and totally sleazy blues, expressed mainly by Roland Heck's muffled Wurlitzer electric piano. Then we hear...what is that, a sax squeal? No, it's Joy's voice, emitting a sound I didn't know the human larynx was capable of producing. Not only does this track prove that German women can sing the blues, but they can be sexy. Well, sexual. But it's not Joy's performance that makes the track so notorious as her lyrics, which are downright filthy! The F-word is bandied about with reckless abandon, there is the hint of the possibility of anal sex, and so on. Now imagine ballerinas dancing to this in a concert hall. Yeah, that's the ticket!

The next track is what one poster on rec.music.progressive considers to be the single scariest piece of music he's ever heard. I was certainly startled by it the first time I heard "Face of war," but I think my main feeling was one of emotional exultation (maybe because after having heard "Rankness" I was beyond being shocked anymore). Anyway, the track begins with a pounding unison part for drums, flute and marimba that repeats twice, starting out pianissimo and then gradually crescendoing. Over scary staccato instrumental stabs, Joy offers a sung-spoken proclamation, then it's off to some scary organ and piano chords with some weirdly distorted guitar over the rather martial drumbeat. Then it's back to the staccato figure, over which Joy shrieks nightmarishly about "Bones and eyes, blood and skin." It's scarier when she sings it. A disturbing organ chord sustains under a softer section with Joy singing some creepy ascending triplets as swells of freakishly distorted guitar weave in and out. A drum fill leads into a chilling, minor-key interpretation of the "Connection" chorus, with Joy gradually getting more intense and frightening, as Roland inserts some truly Mephistophelean electric piano asides. Definitely a rather disturbing piece of music, perfect for Halloween mix tapes.

"Free," true to its title, seems to be something of a free-jazz piece, with vibes, flute and trumpet weaving in and out of each other as congas and bass hold down some semblance of rhythm. Yes, I really could imagine dancers dancing to this, though more Merce Cunningham than traditional ballet.

"Sensual Impressions" is, for me, the album's instrumental highlight. It starts with solo flute, subjected to cathedral-like reverb, playing a somber melody. We hear some very light activity on the cymbals as the flute gradually goes into a somewhat more active up-and-down part. After some light improvised parts for flute alone, the flute plays a written motive and then there is a sudden jarring FORTISSIMO unison part for flute, organ and drums. Man, I thought "Rankness" had prepared me for anything, but I damn near jumped right out of my skin the first time I heard that! Then it's back to a much calmer duet between organ and flute, with cymbals splashing like leaping flying-fish in the background. The flute plays that fluttering written motive again, followed by the gentle flute/organ/cymbals motive again, and then a jarring reiteration of the FORTISSIMO bit, this time slightly longer and more intense. The flute player, seemingly as startled by this as I was, starts playing some pretty wild stuff as percussion and piano subtly improvise in the background. The flute solo gradually builds in intensity and frenzy to compare with Rashaan Roland Kirk and Ian Anderson at their most crazed. The flute player really comes into his own here, using the reverb as another musical instrument in itself, playing off it and allowing it to add texture to his solo. It truly is a moving and intense moment. At the completion of his solo, the fluttering motive returns, and then it's back to an extended variation of the soft organ/flute/cymbals theme with some light guitar arpeggiations adding extra dimensions to it. The music gradually swells to mezzoforte before dying away and the tune closes with some gentle, ethereal solo flute punctuations. It's kind of like dying and going to heaven...

But the album's not even two-thirds finished. The "Manifestations" tableau is completed by "Quintessence," possibly the closest the album comes to symphonic rock. The track opens with an intricate organ figure. Based around ascending triads, it's not unlike something Yes would be doing a couple of years down the road. Here, Joy's voice is rather more mannered and controlled, less Janis Joplin and more Dusty Springfield. It only goes to prove her to be one of the most expressive and diverse singers in all of Germany. And, dare I say, all of progdom. Anyway, the opening organic verses give way to a more funky and swinging set of verses based around Roland's rollicking electric piano and featuring accentuating blasts from the horn section. A rather cosmic and Bloom-like soprano sax solo follows, backed by seesaw organ and bass. The climax is reached with a repeat of the opening organ figure over which Joy sings, "Try it now, do it now and you'll fly, you are free," followed by a fanfare-like closing.

The third and final tableau, "Emotions", is something of a 12½ minute medley. It opens with the gentle "Eden-Park" theme. Soft bass notes pulse, followed by vibes, plucked guitar notes and organ chords as cymbals splash playfully and flute parts flitter around like, well, butterflies. Joy's voice gradually joins in wordlessly, emotional yet tender and gentle like a daisy, just showing you that there are many more facets to this jewel of a woman than you ever thought. Some clean guitar arpeggios lead us into the vocal section, what I call the "Time has come and gone" section due to Joy's vocal part. It's rather anthemic without being bombastic, the trumpet quite soft and distant, the guitar clean, the organ swirling along yet not overpowering. Subtlety is the order of the day. From there, it's right into the "Metamorphosis" section, a more "up" section, more chirpy and less somber than "Eden-Park." After a couple of verses, the bass plays Joy's wordless melody line from "Connection" over a backing of acoustic guitar, light drums and pianissimo organ. Whole-note trumpet parts join on the second repeat.

"In Search For The Last Word" opens with ominous electric piano, immediately establishing a different tone. Joy is in a more bluesy mode here, as the guitar jangles along funkily accented by tambourine and jazzy sax bits. The eeriness doesn't last long, as soon we're back in anthemic mode, ending with the horns and organ playing question-and-answer and a final reiteration of the ascending unison motive we last heard at the end of "For you and me." This goes directly into "Rising Mind," which opens with an organ solo backed by more of those very 1971 horns and some gloriously dated fuzztone guitar. Eventually the band are joined by Joy, wailing away at her most soul-sister like with the utmost glee. It is this part I hear people often comparing to Jesus Christ Superstar, and while I can kind of see the similarity, I am loath to compare anything I love as much as this album to something as low as anything Andrew Lloyd Webber had a hand in creating. I will agree that this is the most "of its time" bit on the album, though, and leave it at that. From there, it's on to a reiteration of the "Metamorphosis" vocal line played on a soprano sax, followed by "Eden-Park again." This is a reiteration of the "Time has come and gone" verse, followed by the opening theme gradually diminuendoing as Joy's voice grows to a whisper. A pretty classy way to close an album, if you ask me.

So there you have it. If you can get past the dated elements of tracks like "That's the key" and "Rising mind" and the obvious shock-tactics of "Rankness," you'll find much worth your while in Butterflies (or, if you prefer, Schmetterlinge). And as much as I not only admire but adore the band's obvious instrumental prowess, it's Joy's wondrously emotive vocals which call me back to this album again and again like a siren's song. Sure, Joy is still at it today, but part of me wishes she was still singing stuff like this instead of misguided covers of songs by Cher and Bette Midler and even more misguided attempts to become Queen of Eurovision. Come back, Joy, all is forgiven.

Buy it: Not on CD yet. Check for the availability of the vinyl or 8-track (!) over at GEMM.

Joy Fleming, center.

Click on Joy and her bandmates to return.

©2003 by Progbear






























*Just to screw with our heads and to confuse compilers of discographies, Overground was released in the UK on the Page One label as Turbulence, and as a self-titled album in the States on Mercury. Incidentally, that Mercury release has one of the butt-ugliest covers ever to grace an album...but I digress..... BACK



























† ...and some bubblegum losers from the Netherlands clad in day-glo Qiana ran off with the Grand Prix de la Chanson that they didn't deserve. At least they weren't as repulsive as Brotherhood of Man. BACK


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