Obscured in the soulful clouds.  

No doubt, the name Jackie Ivory and monicker ‘soul discovery’ sounds good. Fits seamlessly into the list of soul singers like Joe Tex, Arthur Conley, Al Green, Jackie Wilson, Don Bryant. And, so, Jackie Ivory. Appearing on Atco, Atlantic’s subsidiary, which spawned more than a few r&b and soul legends.

But Jackie Ivory is not a singer. He’s an organist. At that time, ‘soul’ was already tossed around like confetti and suffering from the inflation blues. Let’s be honest nonetheless, if you ain’t got it, you got no business on stage.

Presumably, label boss Ahmet Ertegun and/or producer Jerry Wexler wanted to step on the organ bandwagon, trying out with soulful Mr. Ivory. Soon after, the soulfullest and screaminest on the scene, Brother Jack McDuff, would record four albums for Atlantic. Like-minded labels like Blue Note, Prestige and Argo cornered the market with plenty organ or sax-organ outings.

To Ivory’s loss, Soul Discovery was the end of the line for him on Atco. Ebony and Ivory, living in perfect harmony, but the piano had been drinking and the organ was asleep, out Ivory went, in came Brother Jack.

Who actually was Jackie Ivory? Demands a bit of online research. Born in Blytheville, Arizona in 1937, Ivory was raised in South Bench, Indiana. Never heard of those places, sorry guys. Ivory was a pianist who after the customary stint in the Army started an organ combo. After Soul Discovery, Ivory freelanced with saxophonists Junior Walker and Willis Jackson.

Ultimately based in Oakland, Ivory settled in the club scene and released Live At Jack’s Bar (Orchard 2001) and Laying In The Cut (Honeycomb 2003). Mr. Ivory passed away in 2013.

Cooperations with Walker and Jackson stroke with the idea of his mid-sixties album. It is the world of juicy, accessible riffs, gritty organ sounds, laced with supple jazz phrasing. The people’s music. The Ivory style is somewhat reminiscent of maestro Jimmy McGriff.

Jackie is bringing us a mixture of pepper and sweets, in sync with the hot sax of (one) Paul Renfro on original cookers The Monkey Woman and Do It To Death – pre-James Brown-ish message clear – and blues-drenched classics like Miles Davis’s Freddie The Freeloader and Horace Silver’s Sister Sadie, not to mention Mr. Davis’s modal So What, throwing in the meaty ballad I Left My Heart In San Francisco for good measure. Then there’s perennial r&b favorite Lonely Avenue by Doc Pomus. Fun album.

Listen to Soul Discovery here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9rrus-g-bM&list=RDM9rrus-g-bM&start_radio=1