Dig This, recorded and released in 1972, is the second of
Bobbi Humphrey's seven Blue Note albums; it is also her sophomore recording. The album was produced by then-label president
George Butler. He had signed
Humphrey and helmed her debut,
Flute In, the previous year. Recorded at A&R Studios, the young flutist was teamed with bassists
Ron Carter and
Wilbur Bascomb, Jr., powerhouse drummer
Alphonse Mouzon, guitarists
David Spinozza and
William Fontaine, and keyboardists
Harry Whitaker and
Paul Griffin. While the album’s formula didn’t deviate that much from her debut -- an easy, tasty balance of soul, pop, and jazz tunes -- the material, production, and
Humphrey’s confidence all stand out here. Check her reading of
Bill Withers' “Lonely Town, Lonely Street,” as she stretches the melody to meet
Bascomb's and
Spinozza’s funky grooves. While strings swoop and hover, threatening to overtake the mix, her plaintive style goes right at them with meaty, in-the-pocket phrasing. Her version of Whitfield and Strong’s “Smiling Faces Sometimes” is well-known in pop culture for the sample that appeared on
Common’s “Puppy Chow,” but taking the tune in full,
Humphrey’s gift as a soloist is revealed in full, as she winds around and through funky clavinets, Rhodes, strings, guitars, and
Mouzon’s popping snare. The reading of
Stevie Wonder's “I Love Every Little Thing About You,” with its bubbling basslines and
Humphrey’s understatement of the melody, make this a bright, shining jazz-funk number. “El Mundo de Maravillas (A World of Beauty),” is one of two fine
Mouzon compositions to appear here, this one commences with a cello in a spacy, soulful ballad that showcases
Humphrey’s classical chops before it moves into funk terrain and then back again. The set closer is a souled-out reading of
Kenny Barron's “Nubian Lady,” with chunky guitars,
Bascomb’s Fender bass, shuffling drums, and
Humphrey adding air and space to the knotty groove. While
Dig This is not the revelation that
Blacks and Blues is (it appeared two years later), it is nonetheless a stone killer example of jazz-funk in its prime, and should be considered an essential part of the canon. ~ Thom Jurek