Herman Eberitzsch Jr. III in the early 70s
The medium of recorded music has reached a pivotal age in its maturation. The origins of recording technology reach back well over a century (the earliest phonograph recordings date to the late 1800s), and the most longstanding traditions of American music– blues, folk, rock– now penetrate the ears and hearts of over three generations. And while some preservationists have dug into the forgotten eras of American music before (i.e. Harry Smith’s impressive folk anthologies), the archival practice has never surpassed a rarefied community of collectors and enthusiasts.It takes a centrifugal force of longevity and history for us to collectively begin the process of cyclical reflection on an artistic medium–where we can look at our history anew, allowing us to both rediscover lost artifacts and actualize latent possibilities. That time may have come.
This week archival imprint Family Groove Records released never before heard material from Herman Eberitzsch Jr. III, the first chapter of a four part series entitled the HE3 Project. An arranger, songwriter, and funky keyboardist, Eberitzsch recorded scores of songs during San Francisco’s psychedelic heyday throughout the 70s. He crafted experimental jazz-funk (“Rapture of the Deep”), uplifting psych-soul (“Make It Sweet”), and grooves grounded in knocking percussion and a powerhouse horn section (“Love is a Tortured Love Affair”). But, Eberitzsch never caught a break. Major labels skirted record deal after record deal, leaving Eberitzsch to one last resort: store the tapes in the basement–where they’ve been for the past four decades, waiting for their unlikely resuscitation.
While a number of archival imprints (Now-Again, Numero Group, Light in the Attic) have reissued obscure funk, soul, and jazz during the last decade, they rarely risk putting out unheard music. Or, when they do, it tends to be recorded music from already known artists (Betty Davis, 24-Carat Black, Jimi Hendrix).
But, I cannot help but wonder how many other glanced over musicians like Eberitzsch are out there. How many musicians for one reason or another (too experimental, too strange, lazy, untimely, brilliant. . .) recorded music but never found a way to distribute it and gain recognition? How many of those musicians decided to store the original tapes, glued to a last hope that one day they might just reach a larger audience following the infamous stories of Van Gogh’s post-mortem appreciation? And then, of course, how many of those will we even find?
hydramag 