You guessed it from the album title: this is the last collection of music we’re going to get from the vocal group who helped to usher in the Philly soul sound back in 1972 with “Back Stabbers” the single and album. The O’Jays never achieved the same level of superstardom or critical adulation as several Motown acts – the Miracles or the Temptations, say – and didn’t match the peaks of later Philly soul titan Barry White. But they scored several undeniable radio hits, expert pop productions all of them, and they’ll be missed.
The Last Word finds them still in strong voice, their harmonies bleak and forceful, sad and buoyed by the power of music. Perhaps the Motown group they always resembled the closest was The Four Tops, who also had a penchant for roaring melodrama and wounded lead vocals on hits such as “I Can’t Help Myself” and “It’s the Same Old Song”. The songs on The Last Word could easily have been covered by The Four Tops in the early 70s. The alternating vocals of the leads compete with each other to convey the most romantic pain: sometimes rumbling, sometimes grumbling, sometimes blaring out like a siren of searing pain, always conveying melancholy even when they’re singing “I hope you enjoyed yourself/Like I enjoyed myself”. On the page, that’s an optimistic and well-wishing sentiment, but when you hear it sung on the album you can only detect the uncertainty in their voices, none of the pleasure – they really doubt that the one they are singing to enjoyed themselves. And that causes them great pain, like everything else they ever sang about that wasn’t a “Love Train”.
The production is classic Philly soul: harmonies inspired by doo-wop, lead vocals inspired by Motown, strings always prominent in the mix, bass even more prominent. The Last Word sounds like a time capsule, going back in time to when the wonders of the best disco music were yet to be heard. The Last Word is the sound of the seeds of disco being planted, which you better believe The O’Jays helped to plant back in the early 70s. Disco hardened the funk and significantly upped the fun factor and danceability of groups like The O’Jays, and in coalition with hip-hop ultimately proved much more influential on future music than the Philly soul sound. But it’s difficult to imagine the strings-and-funk sound of the disco movement without Back Stabbers paving the way. And The Last Word harkens back to that time.
Which is to say, obviously, that The Last Word sounds like classic O’Jays. Only the echo on the drum tracks betray a later influence, everything else about the production sounds like it was sent to us here in the future from 1972, perhaps to remind us what soul music sounded like and to help us to recollect the roots of the music that we dance to.
The nostalgia leaks into the songwriting, with “’68 Summer Nights” reminiscing about happier times, being “young and free” and all that. It was “the best time of my life” they sing, reminding you again of their innate melancholy: if things were so much better back then, what’s wrong with now?
As usual, you shouldn’t take their words too seriously, just passing fancies that flitter through the minds of elder gentlemen. But to their credit, they finish the album by looking to the future, not the past, promising better times ahead with “I’ll Be Sweeter Tomorrow (Than I Was Today)”. But that only comes after they unleash a track on us called “Pressure”, a term which could sum up all the vocal performances they’ve ever released on record, their agony usually sounding like a kettle close to boiling over. Starting with a drum roll and a seedy guitar lick, “Pressure” conveys musical pressure almost immediately, like the dramatic piano rolls of “Back Stabber”. The slowest-burner of the album, it maintains a tension that is appropriately never released, and reminds you that despite their tendency to overcook a vocal, at their best The O’Jays can really nail a mood and a frame of mind. As long as that frame of mind is a negative one, naturally.
The Last Word isn’t going to change the world. In fact it’s not even going to be remembered by the end of this year. It’s not an event album like David Bowie’s or Leonard Cohen’s or A Tribe Called Quest’s last ones. But it’s a solid work, a well-produced and rarely dull musical collection. Which is all the reminder we needed to return to previous O’Jays greats.R
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