The Twelve Inch Presents : 5 Deep Cuts (to get more) Sunshine š
5 Sun-Drenched Disco Gems To Turn Spring Into Something Magical, And Make It Last Forever āļø
The Twelve Inch is the story of dance music, told one record at a time.
The Twelve Inch is not only about artists, genres, musical evolutions, or the bigger historical picture. Itās also about the joy of discovering, or rediscovering, the records that filled dancefloors without necessarily crossing over into the pop charts.
Some stories are simply too small for a full A-side and B-side deep dive. Yet the tracks themselves still deserve a spotlight. So from time to time, Iāll be dropping these smaller deep dives instead of the regular extended episodes.
And to keep some sort of connecting thread between these hidden gems, each selection will revolve around an overarching theme.
Looking at the titles, I suspect the theme of this episode wonāt be too difficult to figure out š
Click on the covers and itāll lead you to the (sun) music
Walking On Sunshine (Extended Mix) (Eddy Grant)
Are you like me, getting completely giddy when, after a winter that lasted far too long, the first warm sunny days finally arrive? That sudden reconnection with light and warmth always does wonders for my mood and, it seems, for everybody around me too. It feels like walking on clouds or maybe more appropriatelyā¦ Walking On Sunshine.
Ok, this may well be the tackiest introduction Iāve ever written š But itās true. Spring is probably my favourite season. Mostly because it compensates for my complete lack of love for winter. Yes, yes, I know, winter can be cosy. Sitting around an open fireplace, binge-watching Netflix series and all that. The problem is: we donāt have an open fireplace in this house and Iāve never really been someone who enjoys binge-watching series.
Iād much rather spend my evenings doing something creative. Listening to music, putting a mix together, reading a good book, writingā¦
Which is good news for you because it means I keep digging into the stories behind the dance music that flourished between 1975 and 1995 š
And that brings us to this second batch of deep cuts, gathered around one obvious theme: sun/sunshine.
The first track is probably the best known of the bunch, although perhaps not in its original version by Eddy Grant. Because when the song appeared in 1979 as one of the singles from his third album, it surprisingly wasnāt a hit.
That changed in 1982 when Arthur Bakerās project Rockers Revenge released their cover version. Iāll return to that story in a future weekly episode because it deserves one of its own. Suffice to say that the remake stormed the European charts and became a major dance hit in the US.
Since then, the original has slowly undergone a kind of rehabilitation. One of those records people now look back on and say: how on earth did this not become a hit?
I even crossed paths with that story myself years later when I was handling catalogue at Warner Music Belgium. We released yet another Eddy Grant best-of compilation and the UK Warner office, who owned the repertoire, decided to commission a series of remixes in an attempt to relaunch the track as a single.
But once again, no luck.
And honestly, they probably should have known better because they had already tried the exact same thing in 1989, only reaching number 63 in the UK.
Which still leaves the obvious question:
Why didnāt this record chart in 1979?
It had everything. A fantastic groove, a perfect disco feel, and it was even released during the spring of that year.
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L.A. Sunshine (Robert Quimet Remix) Aura
The title says Deep Cuts and song number two is probably about as deep as we can go š
Aura Urziceanu, who at one point also performed under the wonderfully cosmic name Aura Borealis, yes really š, was a Romanian jazz and folk vocalist born in Bucharest. She was fortunate enough to marry a Canadian, which allowed her to leave the communist āworkers paradiseā Nicolae CeauČescu had created in Romania.
Once in North America, her career took a remarkable turn. She made her debut at Carnegie Hall with Duke Ellingtonās orchestra and would go on to perform alongside major jazz names such as Ella Fitzgerald, Bill Evans, Ahmad Jamal, Hank Jones, Quincy Jones and Dizzy Gillespie.
Which immediately raises the obvious question.
How does someone with that rƩsumƩ end up recording this rather modest little disco tune?
Wellā¦ information is scarce, dear readers š
Her recording career after leaving Romania in 1972 took her through a series of small labels during the seventies and early eighties. In 1978 she recorded an album for a newly founded Canadian label called Change Records, eventually distributed by MCA in Canada.
I couldnāt find much information about the album itself, or even the other tracks on it. But considering the period, and judging from this single, my educated guess is that this was simply an attempt to tap into the disco boom.
This particular track was chosen as the single and they even commissioned a remix by Robert Ouimet, one of the key figures of the Montreal disco scene and DJ at the cityās legendary club Limelight.
And before confusion sets in š
This is not the same as Aurra, with two rās, the side project connected to the funk band Slave on Salsoul Records.
They may not have had a Borealisā¦
but they definitely had more hits.
Aquarius/Let The Sun Shine In - Disco Spectacular aka Evelyn āChampaignā King
At the height of disco, when the major record companies fully jumped onto the disco train, it sometimes felt as if any theme could be turned into a disco record.
In 1979, RCA Records released a disco album built around songs from the musical Hair. The idea was not to recreate the soundtrack itself, but to transform the material into one continuous disco experience, complete with disco arrangements and contributions from artists such as Evelyn Champagne King, The Brothers, Vicki Sue Robinson, the New York Community Choir, and Revelacion.
The album was recorded in February 1979 at RCA Studios in New York and clearly tried to tap into the post-Saturday Night Fever craze. The enormous success of that soundtrack triggered a wave of similar projects from other record companies.
So RCA tried the same trick with Hair.
The problem was that it wasnāt really connected to the hugely successful 1979 film version of Hair. In fact, none of the versions featured in the movie itself appeared on this album and, unlike Saturday Night Fever, Hair wasnāt really a disco film to begin with.
There was another issue too. RCA hadnāt exactly assembled a superstar cast. Vicki Sue Robinson had enjoyed success earlier in the decade but by 1979 she was no longer a major chart presence. The only artist truly on the rise was Evelyn Champagne King, who at that exact moment was breaking through with āShame.ā
What makes the whole thing even stranger is that RCA barely promoted the artists themselves. The tracks were simply credited to Disco Spectacular.
Still, you can safely assume that the track I selected is sung by Evelyn āChampagneā King. It later appeared on several of her compilations and, by some distance, it was also the record from the album that connected most strongly with the dancefloor.
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Sunshine Hotel (Extended) Richard T.Bear
Only this week I was reacting to a post by Andres about blind-buying records, admitting that I used to do exactly that when I was very young and spending afternoons roaming the import record shops in Antwerp.
The reason was simple. Those shops stocked huge amounts of cut-outs, records dumped overseas by American labels after the disco backlash. Most of them I only knew by artist name or title. Some I didnāt know at all.
Thatās how I stumbled upon the twelve inch of Richard T. Bear and Sunshine Hotel.
It became one of my most treasured twelve inches.
Thereās just something about that record. The groove, his voice, the atmosphereā¦ it pulls you in immediately. Or maybe itās simply the subject matter. I do love the sun š
Now, at this point, you probably expect the classic late seventies story: a rock artist makes an awkward disco detour, the record flops, and everybody involved spends the next decade pretending it never happened.
But thatās not really what happened here.
Richard T. Bear, born Richard Gerstein in New York City and raised in the Caribbean, started out playing open mic nights in Greenwich Village. Gradually he worked his way deeper into the music business, becoming tour manager for Carly Simon, opening for Jeff Beck and Richie Havens, and even contributing to Havensā breakthrough album Mixed Bag.
After a short stay in London, he returned to the US and eventually ended up in Los Angeles, where he was introduced to Pat Benatar and worked on demos that helped her land her recording contract. Soon afterwards, he signed his own deal with RCA Records and released his debut album Red, Black & Blue.
The single?
Sunshine Hotel.
Now letās be honest š Richard T. Bear was not exactly an obvious disco star when this twelve inch appeared in 1978. First of all, he looked very much likeā¦ wellā¦ a bear š Letās just say shaving did not appear high on the priority list. Secondly, looking at the artists he was associated with, his world was clearly rock and pop, not disco or R&B.
So how did we end up with such a first-class disco gem?
The answer lies in the remix.
Not by one of the superstar remixers of the era, but by Warren Schatz. Weāll encounter him again in a future episode where he remixes the disco adventure of a major Country & Western artist. Warren may not have been a club DJ, but he absolutely knew how to shape a dance record.
The result was good enough to push Sunshine Hotel to number 41 on the US Dance Chart. No crossover success, though. So for RCA, this wasnāt considered a hit. Which explains why copies later flooded the cut-out bins.
My luck š
As for our furry friend Richard? He continued recording for RCA, wrote songs for and with other artists, and eventually signed with the German label Teldec in the mid eighties. There he released the album The Runner.
And here comes the kicker.
The title track was written by Giorgio Moroder.
Not produced by him, but by Moroder engineer Juergen Koppers. And yes, it sounds very mid-eighties Moroder. Think Flashdance.
It wasnāt a hit. Honestly, it isnāt even a particularly great song š
But stillā¦
he got to work with Giorgio Moroder. How cool is that?
And more importantly for todayās story, he made this weekās deep cuts selection because Sunshine Hotel genuinely sounds like sunshine. Warm temperatures, summer evenings, and that first drink on a terrace after winter finally disappears. You can hear it all in the groove.
Take It To The Zoo (Extended) Sunshine
For the final track in this selection, we move to the other major disco soundtrack of the late seventies: Thank God Itās Friday.
The soundtrack was a huge project for Casablanca Records, something I already touched upon in my Casablanca series.
The obvious blockbuster from the soundtrack was, of course, Last Dance by Donna Summer. But this final deep cut is connected to Donna in a much more direct and personal way.
Sunshine was a short-lived disco group made up largely of Donna Summerās backing vocalists. The members included Carlena Williams and Donnaās sisters Linda Gaines (now Lotman), Dara Bernard, and Mary Ellen Bernard.
Their moment of chart success came in 1978 when āTake It to the Zooā reached number one on the Billboard Disco chart as part of the soundtrack:
āLast Dance / After Dark / Thank God Itās Friday / Take It to the Zooā
The song appeared both in the film and on the soundtrack album and was co-written by Donna Summer herself, together with Bruce Sudano and Joe Bean Esposito. Donna also sings backing vocals on the track.
An album titled Sunshine Watching Daddy Dance was planned but pulled at the very last moment.
Mary Ellen Bernard would continue performing with Donna Summer right up until Donnaās death on May 17, 2012. At Donnaās funeral at Christ Presbyterian Church in Nashville, Linda Gaines Lotman, Mary Ellen Bernard, Dara Bernard, and Jenette Yancey performed āWeāve Come This Far By Faith.ā
Why the album was cancelled remains unclear.
There are several possible explanations. It may simply have fallen victim to the full PolyGram takeover period, when many projects and contracts were suddenly shelved. It could also have been collateral damage from Donna Summerās increasingly acrimonious split with Casablanca Records. Or perhaps the label simply decided, in the aftermath of the disco backlash, that the album would be too difficult to market.
Whatever the reason, this single remains one of the very few places where you can really hear the wider Donna Summer family together on record.
And if you listen closely, youāll also hear them throughout Donnaās wonderful live album Live And More, where her sisters provide the backing vocals. Donna even introduces them during the show.
The Eddy Grant track is probably my fave here, but it's a pretty strong lineup, especially the Richard T. Bear cut. The Sunshine cut is strong enough that it makes me think Casablanca may have goofed by not putting the whole album out. The Aura was new to me. Odd that it didn't really benefit from CanCon.
Could the Sunshine album have been cancelled because of the relative commercial failure of Thank God It's Friday? I remember there were hopes the film would be as big as Saturday Night Fever but the marketing was botched. There was a hefty triple soundtrack album that turned out to be too hefty with much unfamiliar material that wasn't even in the film, whilst the campaign to sell the movie gave the misleading impression it was like Saturday Night Fever rather than a musical comedy, which didn't help the box office. Ultimately, it was probably just too "black" to be a major crossover hit at a time when audiences, at least here in the UK, were flocking to see Joan Collins in The Stud, another film with a disco soundtrack given a much more focused and aggressive marketing campaign based firmly around sex!