The First Family of Soul

Givin' it up one time for The Five Stairsteps' first album

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Due to financial constraints imposed by my recent move from Greensboro, NC to Kingston, NY — and my upcoming follow-up move to my new pad (yay!) in Kerhonkson, NY — as well as the fact that I won’t be able to set up my stereo system for a few more weeks, I’ve been keeping a particularly tight leash on my vinyl purchases for the last few months.

Sure, I’ll still happily dig through a pile of thrift store 45s, and I did purchase an old Audiotronics scholastic-type turntable shortly after arriving in Kingston, just to help me keep my vinyl withdrawal symptoms at bay. But my basic rule of thumb right now on newer and bigger-ticket items is to walk on by, as Dionne Warwick once sang — unless I know it’s something I’ll absolutely kick myself later for not grabbing when I had the chance.

The above LP — the only album ever released on Curtis Mayfield’s short-lived Windy C label — was one such “kicker”. I’d never seen it in the wild, much less a mono pressing; so when I came across this nicely-priced copy in the bins of Rocket Number Nine, Kingston’s finest vinyl emporium, I immediately knew that it would be leaving the shop with me.

Most folks, if they know The Five Stairsteps at all, know ‘em for “O-o-h Child,” the uplifting Stan Vincent-penned smash that hit #8 in the spring of 1970. (Among his many other credits, Vincent also produced and arranged Lou Christie’s massive 1969 hit “I’m Gonna Make You Mine”.)

“O-o-h Child” provided a much-needed balm for the soul in the immediate wake of the Kent State Massacre, and has continued to do so for a half-century since. In fact, it’s pretty much been my main musical mantra during these last few especially challenging years.

But while “O-o-h Child” was their only song to scale the pop charts, you would do The Five Stairsteps (and yourself) a grave disservice to write ‘em off as one-hit wonders. From 1966 to 1969, they sent seven wonderful singles into the R&B Top 20 — and four of those songs can be found on the self-titled 1967 full-length debut that’s pictured above.

They were unique for their time, a teenaged sibling soul quintet who were tutored and managed by their father, a Chicago police detective named Clarence Burke, Sr. The oldest son, Clarence Jr., sang lead, played guitar and co-wrote most of their material, but the other children — Alohe, James, Dennis and Keni — were all talented singers and musicians in their own right. The group’s name came from their mother Betty, who commented that they looked like stair steps when lined up according to their ages. And their nickname, “The First Family of Soul,” was bestowed upon them for obvious reasons.

A prize-winning performance at a Regal Theatre talent contest brought the group to the attention of Curtis Mayfield, who was impressed enough by their talents and unique vocal blend to launch their first single, “Don’t Waste Your Time” b/w “You Waited Too Long,” on his new Windy C imprint. Though the catchy A-side was Curtis-penned, it was the slow-grooving flip side — written by the Burkes with friend and regular collaborator Gregory Fowler — that caught the ears of area DJs, eventually reaching #16 on Billboard’s Hot Rhythm & Blues chart. (It also surely caught the ear of Joe Jackson, a steelworker in nearby Gary, Indiana who had five musically-inclined boys of his own…)

The Five Stairsteps’ next single, the Burke-Fowler composition “World of Fantasy,” would be their biggest hit until “O-o-h Child,” reaching #49 on the Billboard Hot 100 and rising all the way to #12 R&B. It’s also quite possibly my favorite track of theirs, a dreamy evocation of that sweet moment in a budding romance where everything suddenly feels undeniably right and all you want to do is get away from the daily grind and float hand-in-hand through the sheer wonder of existence with your special someone. The Young Rascals’ “Groovin’” tapped into a similar feeling and paired it with a similarly dreamy groove, though “World of Fantasy” came out first — and I wouldn’t be at all surprised to learn that Felix Cavaliere and Eddie Brigati were inspired by it.

“World of Fantasy” also holds a special place in my heart, because it was one of the records that helped open up the magical world of 1960s Chicago soul for me. I found the 45 in a dollar bin at the late, lamented Rhino Records in Westwood in the late 90s, and was immediately drawn to the label’s gorgeously stylized rendering of Chicago’s Marina City Towers. At that point, the only Five Stairsteps song I knew was “O-o-h Child,” and I wasn’t even aware of the Mayfield connection, but how could I lose with a record that looked this awesome? Turned out it sounded even better than it looked.

I’d long been a fan of many of Chicago’s heavy soul hitters — Curtis, Jerry Butler, The Impressions, Gene Chandler, Billy Stewart, The Chi-Lites — but I had no idea just how deep and wide the 60s soul vein ran in the Windy City until “World of Fantasy” inspired me to fully dive in and explore.

Growing up in Chicago during the 80s, I was constantly made aware of the city’s estimable blues legacy, while the scads of incredible soul and R&B stuff that had come out of the Windy City twenty years earlier went largely unmentioned. My friend Aaron Cohen’s wonderful book Move On Up: Chicago Soul Music and Black Cultural Power has done much to pull the spotlight back over to the soul side of the street, but I’m still pissed off that it took so long for the city to understand or embrace its soul legacy. Seven years ago, Chicago finally got around to giving Curtis Mayfield an honorary street in the old neighborhood he grew up in, but even that gesture was pretty weak sauce considering the man’s profound contributions…

However, it's impossible to stay pissed off about anything while listening to The Five Stairsteps’ debut album, which includes “World of Fantasy,” “Don’t Waste Your Time,” “You Waited Too Long,” “The Touch of You,” a lovely cover of Smokey Robinson’s “Oooh, Baby Baby” among its many highlights, and remains a sweet, soulful treat from beginning to end. Just like it’s impossible to keep from smiling while looking at that cover image of the five smartly-dressed Burkes goofing around in a park, or while watching the group’s brief but delightful performance of “Danger, She’s a Stranger” with their dad on a February 1967 episode of the TV game show To Tell The Truth…

There’s so much more to the Five Stairsteps story, too — but right now it’s their first album that’s ruling my world and healing my heart. I cannot recommend it highly enough.

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