Back Stabbers [Import]

How on earth could I give this any less than 5 stars? This is Philly soul at its finest, crafted with love, passion, and feeling. The title track is among the most influential songs ever, and it remains as one of the most nerve-hitting tales of betrayal and hypocrisy. Apparently, this song has to be great, for TLC borrowed the lyrics in their jam "Case of the Fake People," and Angie Stone near-stole the music in her single "Wish I Didn't Miss You." But look elsewhere, and you will find other gems that are just as excellent. "Love Train" is one funky, soulful ride that still brings a smile to my face, while "Sunshine" also radiates (pardon the pun). This was recorded in an era when singers had a genuine passion for music; when real instruments were used to create infectious grooves, and when sampling didn't exist. "Backstabbers" is a classic, and it's a potent reminder of how great records used to be made.

This album represented a zenith for both The O'Jays and for Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff, the founders of the Philadelphia International label. The O'Jays had shrunk from 5 members to 4 to 3 by this time, after more than a decade of regular singles, irregular albums, and long tours on the "Chitlin' Circuit." They had been known, basically, for singles that were catchy, 2.5 minute snapshots of soul, usually dealing with romantic themes. This album was certainly different. The new, was on display right away on the opening cut, "When The World's At Peace": a Sly Stone/Chambers Brothers-influenced slice of protest. And balladeers Walter Williams, William Powell, and Eddie Levert show that they can handle the new direction with ease. It is a mighty performance! But the next thing that hits you is the opening piano flourish of "Back Stabbers." This was also a new direction. When "Back Stabbers" came out, it was nothing short of a revelation to Black listeners, but it also spoke to anyone who lived in poverty-stricken conditions. And, if listening, to anyone in America. It was no surprise that the single topped the Soul chart, but it also hit #3 pop, the message that you can't trust ANYBODY (this was the Nixon era), really hitting home. The follow-up singles ("992 Arguments" and "Time To Get Down") also did well on the soul chart, but the final single issued, "Love Train," put a gold-encrusted crown on the whole affair. It topped both the Soul and pop charts. The sense was that Gamble, Huff, and their major co-producer, Thom Bell, were telling it like it really was, using the O'Jays as their voice. It was a system that really worked. The album also contained highly popular tracks besides the singles, with varying themes like love, fidelity, sex, and the realities of ghetto life. There were years of gold ahead for The O'Jays and Philly Int'l. It must have been quite gratifying for Gamble and Huff, to build from a popular single on the Soul Survivors ("Expressway To Your Heart"), to regular Soul chart success with The Intruders on the Gamble label, to major crossover success with Jerry Butler ("Only The Strong Survive"), to this: the establishment of what was soon to be a very lucrative empire, that featured Teddy Pendergrass, Harold Melvin, Lou Rawls, Billy Paul, and The Three Degrees, among others. "Back Stabbers" (the album and the single) was the jumping-off point.

This was the first album I ever bought, at the age of ten, and the songs stay with me to this day. Although I grew up in Detroit and with the Motown Sound, I came of age listening to "TSOP" (The Sound Of Philly). "992 Arguments" was an underrated single from this album, but the 45 disc doesn't do it justice. You have to hear the album track with the vocals and lush orchestral arrangements. If you were going to start a 70's soul collection, this is a must have disc.