Roughly twenty years ago on a rainy Saturday morning I was digging in a warehouse turned flea market called Super Flea. Walking in, mildew and incense took over my sense of smell. Past the booths filled with car stereo equipment, bootleg clothes, martial arts weapons, dubbed VHS tapes, and a tattoo cubicle surrounded in cardboard was an entire corner full of records spanning a good 600 square feet.
The older bearded man who ran the booth was named John. He priced his records at $1 for LPs, three for $1 on 45s, and a premium section where everything was marked $3. Little did I know at the time that the records I was buying for under $5 would turn out to be some of the best, most rare finds of my entire digging life.
On this day I ended my search in the premium section. Flipping through, I pulled out a promo copy of Les DeMerle’s Spectrum. Something about the cover just caught me. When I got home it was the first album I put on.
The intro track, also the title track, grips you immediately. Les is a DRUMMER. The opening solo is jazz gold, dipped in platinum and rolled in diamonds. From soft snare strokes and hard cymbal crashes to deep purposeful kicks, followed by Apollo Creed punches back up top.
Snare hits arrived in the form of drum rolls like I’ve never heard before or since. All that excitement strolls into a walking jazz standard, “A Taste of Honey,” where the horns stride along the beat like musical soldiers marching on a battlefield comprised of Les’ wildly precise drumming.
Skip forward to track four, “Underground,” and the opening ascending horns sweep your soul up for a ride on a jazz-soul fusion masterpiece. The remainder of the album doesn’t slouch in the least.
The record is so good I started digging into Les’ history. He’s a Cuban drummer who was heralded by other jazz artists in the seventies as one of, if not the best. Surprisingly his career never grew to the stature of so many of his peers, but I did find out he’s still active and playing on the Royal Caribbean cruise line.
I’ve been meaning to book that cruise since the day I learned his sticks were still swinging, but life happens.
In short, if you ever see this album, buy it.