BILLY BUTLER & THE CHANTERS, "I CAN'T WORK NO LONGER" C/W "TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY," OKEH 4-7221 (REL. 5/1965)

In the firmament of Chicago soul, Billy Butler stood in the shadow of his older, more successful brother Jerry, whose Vee-Jay singles helped define the Windy City’s signature sound of the ‘60s. Billy was a talented vocalist and composer, but there seemed to be room for one Butler on the pop charts and his name was Jerry.

Nevertheless (to quote one of Billy’s Okeh recordings), the younger Butler received the same quality treatment on his clutch of recordings for Okeh and, later, Brunswick; production and songs by Curtis Mayfield, arrangements by Johnny Pate. A tone-deaf auctioneer would sound good in the hands of this talent pool. As with all styles of music, some performers who got this Chicago treatment didn’t succeed but they left behind great recordings that deserved to go far.

Today’s single pairs a 1964 original with a 1965 item by Curtis Mayfield. The latter song, “I Can’t Work No Longer,” was Butler’s greatest success on the pop charts, where it reached #60. Not a disaster, but not a major achievement. It reached #6 on the r&b charts—the highest showing of his career. His other four charted records hovered at or below the #100 spot. They fared better on the r&b charts and moved enough product for Columbia/Okeh to (a) keep him on their roster and (b) issue a 10-track LP, Right Track, in 1966.

Small wonder it did well—it’s an irresistible piece of Chicago soul, with its quasi-Latin rhythm, Curtis Mayfield’s distinctive guitar, cowbell, churchy piano and the sterling backup of The Chanters. With a reference to Sam Cooke’s earlier hit “Chain Gang” in its oofs and aahs, it paints a picture of a man who has to drop his tools of labor and get back to his woman, who waits with patience for his return.

It doesn’t belabor its point and understays its welcome. Its two minutes and 20 seconds jet past and leave the listener wanting more: a great reason to listen to it again. 1965 listeners had to wait for it to get played on the radio unless they ventured to the neighborhood of their town where r&b records were sold.

 >>>Hear it HERE!!!<<<

From 1964, Butler’s “Tomorrow is Another Day” has elegant, stately strings and a passionate performance by the composer on a quintessential Chicago soul ballad. Every aspect of it exudes an understated pride and poise. In the hands of Pate and Mayfield, elements that might sound bland in mainstream pop recordings possess a gravity and grit that underscores their grace.

This slower song outshines the A and is one of the masterpieces of this sui generis style of Black music. Its philosophical lyric, the dignity of Butler’s performance and the elegance of its production are without flaw. One can say this about few recordings.

Despite this record’s success, neither Billboard or Cash Box bothered to review it. (Or Record World, my last-ditch go-to, for that matter.) 1965 had too much going on for a moment of reflection. Only now can we assess its glut of riches.

>>>Hear it HERE!!!<<<

If you are taken by these tracks, Kent Records (UK) has a 29-track CD that gathers all of Butler’s Okeh material in one handsome package. The Right Tracks (CDKEND280) has remained in print for almost two decades and is a fascinating piece of Chicago soul history.

Tomorrow: the roots of rhythm and blues in a 1951 Aladdin single by Charles Brown, whose style epitomizes the relaxed cool of post-war Black music. Another dollar-bin doozy. 

Comments

  1. WOW! Why weren't either of these hits? Two beautifully recorded and sung songs. Love that horn section on "I Can't Work No Longer."

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  2. These are fantastic, Frank--thanks for the great post! So good. Never heard them before! Love it.

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  3. To Bill and Dean: I feel the same about this record. It's so good, and it was Billy Butler's biggest success, but it's been hiding under a rock for 50 years. UK soul fans know it, but the average person might shake their head; nope, never heard it. But once heard, these two sides become personal hits. It was the curse of 1965: far more worthy records and performers than the radio stations and record stores could handle. Payola was effectively dead by then, and the rigid Top 40 format hadn't yet become the industry standard.
    If a record like this got played by a prominent disc jockey, it might become a success. But there were so many great recordings to choose from, and DJs tended to go for the known names. I'm glad to share records like this because they deserve to be heard and enjoyed!

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