There’s almost certainly a film-worthy back story behind the Kashmere Stage Band, one that would probably make a charming movie about conquered odds and inner-city revival, but this seems inconsequential compared to the reality of Texas Thunder Soul. That is, a band of high-school kids with awesome afros playing blistering, unbelievably proficient instrumental funk. The 32 tracks here are as solid as Kashmere’s brass section, which clobbers these songs (some original, some covers), before painting them over with a smooth, satiny finish.One of the best things about Texas Thunder Soul is how marvelously evocative it is, not of actual memory, but of the cinematic vocabulary this kind of sound has come to represent. This is the music of car chases, bike chases, any kind of chase; its essence is so linked with feelings of overcharged speed that it leaks sweat and motor oil. It’s the music of sweltering summer days cut into snappy montages, uncorked fire hydrants and loose sneaker soles slapping against pavement. It’s fast, sharp and elegant.
But the most impressive fact is the all-around strength of the band. While these songs are propelled by horns, all the instruments, from guitar to drums to keyboard, take the lead at some point. The level of virtuosity seems impossible for high-school students, which may explain the string of national titles won by the band in the ’60s and ‘70s.
In the last few decades Kashmere, who recorded eight studio albums, has been seemingly forgotten by everyone but rap producers and DJs, who’ve understandably pillaged their back catalog for its sampling potential. But this stuff is too dynamic to be enjoyed in pieces. As well as the relentless horn loops on “Do You Dig It Man” work on their own, their real magic is the fluidity with which they’re strung together, the way they fit with the occasional bursts of guitar and the drums, which sound like they’re racing to catch a bus. This kind of atmosphere – breakneck yet refined – fills out the whole of Texas Thunder Soul. The result is the soundtrack for the greatest Saturday morning cartoon that never was.
