LOU PRIDE

Ain’t No More Love In This House

Severn

By Bill Dahl

          The epitome of the journeyman soul singer, Lou Pride never enjoyed the prestige of scoring a national hit. Some of his fine early ‘70s sides for the obscure Suemi label were cut at Willie Mitchell’s studio in Memphis with the same peerless house band that backed Al Green, Otis Clay, and Syl Johnson; others were done at Suemi’s own facilities in El Paso. Pride was born in North Chicago, did his initial singing at Chicago’s First Baptist Church (pastored by Nat King Cole’s father), and much later had a single on Curtis Mayfield’s Curtom label, albeit after the company’s headquarters had relocated to Atlanta.

          Even with all those bona fides in his background, Pride really hadn’t racked up all that deep of a track record in the studio until he signed with Annapolis, MD.-based Severn Records in 2002. There his melismatic pipes were showcased with the care and attention to detail they’d long deserved on two fresh CDs (Words of Caution and Keep On Believing) as well as a revelatory anthology of his rare early 45s.

Pride died last year, leaving Severn with the bittersweet honor of releasing this posthumous farewell album. Producers David Earl and Steve Gomes (he anchors the cooking rhythm section on bass, paired with drummer Robb Stupka, keyboardist Benjie Porecki, and guitarist Johnny Moeller) managed to conjure up a warm, inviting atmosphere similar to what Pride encountered at Mitchell’s studio four decades or so prior. The opening title item, penned by the singer, sets a very attractive tone, surging along atop a mid-tempo groove perfectly in tune with Pride’s emotionally charged vocal.

Pride wrote three more of the set’s highlights, “She Boom Boom Me,” “We Can Do What We Want,” and “Love Come Got Me,” all sporting a relaxed Southern soul ambiance despite being laid down in Annapolis. Splendidly tight horns add accents in all the right places, as do a contingent of background vocalists wherever they turn up. This is first-rate old school soul recording—no synths or rhythm machines replacing humans—and the difference certainly shows. The Hi Records connection extends to a revival of Ann Peebles’ “I Didn’t Take Your Man,” gender-switched to maximum effect by a confident Pride.

The uplifting “I Gotta Move On Up,” authorship credited to Windy City chanteuse Big Time Sarah, catches Pride in an exultant mood, and he somehow manages to wring the excessive mawkishness from Wayne Newton’s weepy ‘72 gold record “Daddy, Don’t You Walk So Fast” (it’s nearly unrecognizable in this vastly superior form). Pride also grabs hold of Simply Red’s “Holding Back The Years,” investing the song with an extra dollop of soul-steeped intensity.   

          Lou Pride will be missed mightily by soul music fans (a legion growing steadily at the time of his death, thanks to a series of increasingly mainstream gigs such as his memorable show at the 2009 Chicago Blues Festival). If we had to lose him, Ain’t No More Love In This House is a mighty impressive final musical statement.