After a brief stint at contemporary jazz label CTI,
Lalo Schifrin signed to Tabu Records, where the composer made two records that blurred the line between fusion and disco.
Gypsies, his first record for Tabu, uses that polyester swagger as a foundation but
Schifrin decided to indulge his ambitions on the 1978 album, choosing to create an instrumental conceptual record that somewhat traces his Argentine roots but also feels like it exists at a crossroads where fusion, disco, and prog rock all meet. In other words,
Gypsies feels very, very 1978, pulsating to a glittery four-four beat and colored with clavinets and squealing analog synthesizers. As intended, there is a feeling of a journey here: it's all widescreen vistas and spectacles, where even slower songs like "Prophecy of Love" feel designed for a silver screen. Such is the curse of the film composer but that sense of scale is the most admirable thing about
Gypsies, a record that sometimes gets weighed down by its period accouterments, particularly those omnipresent squalling synths. Then again, that period charm is a good reason to listen to
Gypsies: it is an album, after all, that could've only been made in the year of 1978. [Edsel's 2014 expansion of
Gypsies contains three bonus tracks, all radio versions of songs on the album: "Moonlight Gypsies," "Fortune Tellers," and "Prophecy of Love."] ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine