Tragedy struck AWB when drummer Robie McIntosh died at a party held to celebrate the succes of the “White Album” in late 1974. The band decided to honour Robbie’s memory by continuing: they recruited Steve Ferrone and set about recording “Cut The Cake” (which features some songs already co-written with McIntosh).
Released in June 1975, it went Top Ten in both the US and UK, reaching # 4 in the US (and going Gold). It features the AWB classics “Cut The Cake”, “School Boy Crush”, “Cloudy” and “If I Ever Lose This Heaven”, all hit singles and all still live favourites in AWB’s live shows.
“Soul Searching” (July 1976) consolidated this success, going platinum in the US and featuring more classics in “A Love Of Your Own”, “I’m The One” and Hamish Stuart’s love song to soul music “Queen Of My Soul”.
In 1977, producer Arif Mardin took the band to Miami to record a special album of covers with soul legend Ben E. King, orginal lead singer of The Drifters (“Save The Last Dance For Me”), and best known for his own hits “Stand By Me” and “Spanish Harlem”. Amongst the many highlights on “Benny & Us” is the unique reading of John Lennon’s “Imagine”.
As the Philadelphia International stable of acts brought lush orchestral soul to the higher reaches of the pop charts in the early 70s, it was perhaps surprising that a gutsier take on the form was being peddled by a group of Caucasian Caledonians. AWB were a potent melting pot of styles, equally adept at throwing the jazz shapes of Quincy Jones or Lalo Schifrin, and aping the urban strut of Isaac Hayes.
The first of these reissues tells a story in itself: 1973’s Show Your Hand was a critical hit, its funk undertones drawing comparisons with Ohio Players, but sales were negligible. MCA rejected its follow-up, How Sweet Can You Get? (belatedly earning a release in 2003), and the band moved to Atlantic, where producer Arif Mardin helped them develop a more disciplined and commercial sound.
Mardin stayed at the desk for further albums, with 1978’s Warmer Communications arguably the pick of the bunch. It’s a master class in sophisticated soul that stands head-and-shoulders above the glut of the era’s cookie-cutter disco offerings, topped off with a bold cover of James Taylor’s Daddy's All Gone.
