Still processing music titan Sly Stone's passing. An undeniable pioneer who changed the musical and social fabric for the ages, Stone's legacy is felt everywhere. My latest for @discogs explores nine full-lengths that outline his enduring genius. discogs.com/digs/music/remem…

Album of the day. 1978 ought to go down as the P-Funk empire's creative peak. Parliament went underwater with their aqua-themed funk opera Motor Booty Affair. Funkadelic waved their acid-drenched funk flag freely and garnered huge crossover success with One Nation Under a Groove. Offshoot acts like The Brides of Funkenstein, Parlet, and keyboard whiz Bernie Worrell all cut stellar debuts. And Bootsy Collins along with his Rubber Band continued to ride high with their third crown jewel in a row, Bootsy? Player of the Year. As with previous offerings, the ever-prolific Collins showed no signs of fatigue on this one, which is staggering when thinking about his affiliation with numerous P-Funk related projects during this period. Blistering and freaky funk goes into overdrive across rubbery bass-helmed monsters like the album opener "Bootsy What’s The Name Of This Town," "Bootzilla," and "Roto-Rooter." But one aspect that often goes overlooked is how great of a writer Collins was as demonstrated in his distinctive ballads. Slow jams like "Very Yes," "May the Force Be With You," and the closer "As in (I Love You)" are part tender soul-bearing confessions and part musical cartoon vignettes, showing the more romantic side of P-Funk. Then there's "Hollywood Squares," a multi-layered funk strut that's so damn smooth and street that it anticipates the G-Funk craze to come. What more can be said? Happy 75th to one of funk's first generals, William "Bootsy" Collins.

Album of the day. For some reason I don't hear The New Birth brought up in music convos much nowadays. They were one of the top-billing soul and funk collectives during their heyday and cut quite a few great albums. I'm sure there are those who have their own particular favorites from this group, but their 1972 set, Birth Day sits among the cream of the crop for me. Many will instantly recognize this one because of the slinky gospel-rich groover "You Are What I'm All About" being famously used in hip-hop circles by everyone from Jeru The Damaja, the Notorious B.I.G, Fatboy Slim, and EPMD, or the very suggestive, yet ridiculously tight instrumental jam "Got To Get A Knutt," being lifted by MF Doom, Prince Paul for De La Soul, KRS One, and Cut Chemist. But alongside these two sampling goldmines, there's pure soul righteousness in the rousing Leslie Wilson-led take of Bobby Womack's classic, "I Can Understand It," Buffy Sainte-Marie's "Until It's Time for You to Go," and the Philly soul staple, "Stop, Look, Listen (To Your Heart)." And as is the case with The New Birth's choicest work, the backing band, The Nite-Liters fire on all cylinders throughout this one.

Album of the day. It's hard to believe Shuggie Otis was only 18 years old when he recorded this, his second solo album, Freedom Flight. He had long cut his teeth as a veteran guitarist, both on the road and in the studio, thanks to his father, R&B and blues legend Johnny Otis. So his skills were already well-developed by the time he made this monster psychedelic-blues-soul-funk opus, highlighted by the original version of his best-known song, "Strawberry Letter 23" (which became a huge smash when the Brothers Johnson covered it six years later on their 1977 release, Right On Time). A true "musician's musician," Shuggie plays a bunch of instruments (very well) and shows himself to be a great bassist as he is a guitarist. Also, heavyweights like George Duke, Wilton Felder, and Aynsley Dunbar guesting on here doesn't hurt at all. While Shuggie may have not been a household name in his heyday, any true music aficionado will agree that this classic reinforces the idea of Shuggie being the true missing link between Sly Stone and Prince.

Hugely slept on gems are all over In Our Lifetime.

Albums I consider an artist's best that aren't the consensus pick

I really love seeing the Angela Bofill appreciation on my timeline.

True story: Angela Bofill wrote "I Try" at 17 years old after experiencing an emotionally intense break-up with her drummer, Buddy Williams, who also plays on the song. Not just one of the best break-up songs, but a teenage angst classic.

Okay, question for vinyl collectors: when did The Jacksons' Triumph hike up in price and demand?

Otis Redding. A strong case could be made that he would've reached his creative peak in the '70s.

Album of the day. Happy 45th anniversary to Controversy. Not to start anything, but... am I the only Prince head who reaches for Controversy more than Dirty Mind?

One year later and I'm still not quite over this. Not much else needs to be said about the impact of this man or this turn of the millennium classic. RIP D'Angelo.

"Make Me a Believer"

So... I finally made a Substack and wrote some musings on Lalah Hathaway's quiet storm genius on her terrific new album, Made in Chicago. Click the link below to read, subscribe, and share (it's free!) More to come soon. brandonousley.substack.com/p…

Rest well, Freddie Jackson. When you think about '80s R&B, his name is definitely at the top of the list. His unmistakable sound—gospel-rich, hopelessly romantic, deeply vulnerable, and smoothly soulful—was always embraced in every Black household, cookout, gathering, wedding, and event I've ever attended. His second solo release, 1986's Just Like the First Time continued the momentum of his 1985 breakout debut album, Rock Me Tonight, boasting a slew of huge chart hits, like the sultry "Tasty Love," the yearning classic "Have You Ever Loved Somebody," the '60s-inspired swinger, "Jam Tonight," and "I Don't Want to Lose Your Love." Listening to this album transports me back to that sweet spot in R&B when it was still very much a "grown folks" thing. By the mid-'80s, new jack swing and hip-hop hadn't fully congealed with the genre yet. The R&B of that time—as exemplified by the likes of Luther Vandross (to whom Jackson was commonly compared and cited as a rival), Peabo Bryson, Anita Baker, Eugene Wilde, Miles Jaye, Glenn Jones, Miki Howard, Howard Hewett, and Shirley Murdock—was still steeped in some of the nuances of classic '70s soul. Though synthesizers and drum machines supplanted lush strings and rhythm sections, this sophisticated sound was typified by rich melismatic vocals and the lyrical scope was romantic and mature. Jackson appealed to those who loved their R&B smoothed out with a deep groove and subtle inflections of gospel power, and he certainly thrived throughout the mid-'80s and early '90s. With him and Peabo Bryson now gone in the same year, it feels like an end of an era.

RIP Freddie Jackson.

Album of the day. Even when he wasn't leading the musical zeitgeist as he did in the '80s, Prince could still kick his hitmaking prowess into high gear when he needed to. One album that more than confirmed this was 1991's Diamonds and Pearls, which was released 35 years ago today. His first album to share equal billing with then-new backing band, the New Power Generation, this set found him coming off of his classic '80s peak, updating his bag of musical tricks as a means of winning back his Black audience that were now consumed by the youthful, boomy sounds of hip-hop and contemporary R&B. The gamble worked. With Bay Area native Rosie Gaines' churchy, soul-stirring vocals working overtime, the infectious, blues-rock sleazefest, "Cream," the soulful pop-rock-effused power ballad, "Diamonds and Pearls," and the new jack slammer "Gett Off" gave Prince some of his biggest crossover hits in years. Elsewhere, there was one of his career-best social commentaries in the jazzy soul of "Money Don't Matter 2 Night," the aptly titled breezer, "Strollin'," and the classic bedroom slow-burner "Insatiable." There's also some clever genre-twisting in the gospel touches of "Willing and Able" and the house-meets-hip-hop funk of "Thunder" and "Daddy Pop." Even when things don't quite land, like on the middling NPG rap cypher "Jughead" and "Push," the hit-laden power of Diamonds and Pearls makes it a major highlight in the Prince canon.

Album of the day. 10 years later, Solange's third full-length, A Seat at the Table, remains a sobering listen. Released at the tail end of 2016, a traumatic year marked by unexpected death, tragedy upon tragedy, and a tense election season, it couldn't have arrived at a better time. Boasting a large cast of contributors, ranging from Raphael Saadiq (who co-produced a lion's share of this album), Sampha, Q-Tip, to Lil Wayne, Master P, Sir Dylan, Dirty Projectors' Dave Longstreth, and Adam Bainbridge (Kindness), Solange promoted a space of self-love and healing directed at Black folk. She did so over smooth, mostly mid-tempo productions that pull from lush soul, left-of-center pop/R&B, ambient jazz, and minimalist funk. Her lithe voice, hugely understated, but never emotionally guarded, glides through these meditations on Black womanhood, identity, anger, and resilience, as highlighted on standout cuts like the haunting Saadiq-helmed ballad "Cranes in the Sky," "Don't Touch My Hair," "F.U.B.U," and "Mad." I remember hailing A Seat at the Table as a big artistic and personal statement for Solange, especially coming after her experimental 2012 collaborative EP with Dev Hynes (aka Blood Orange), True and her vintage soul-effused second album, 2008's Sol-Angel and the Hadley St. Dreams. It still rings profound and timely.