Ray Charles - Rare Genius: the Undiscovered Masters (Concord)

Though the excuse for this release is the 80th anniversary of Charles birth, none is needed for an artist of whom the tag “genius” really wasn’t and still isn’t a stretch. Though one might expect a ragtag bunch of half-finished or sketchy vault raids for a cash-in 10-song, 41-minute collection of unreleased recordings, those familiar with the man’s massive catalog 1949-2004, well beyond the standard best-ofs, knows that the well-dressed blind gentleman from Georgia put a bow around every tune he took on, singularly able to sell the sentiment of a sad, strutting, proud, or bemused lyric no matter what the style. In fact, Rare Genius is just another of an endless series of windows into just how good he was no matter what genre he took on , as whole fistfuls of the blues, sundown jazz, R&B, country, soul, light funk (“I’m Gonna Keep on Singin’), and gospel come a calling. (In fact, the big media buzz over this release is the closing duet with the also-late Johnny Cash, the two contemporary titans of recent hit bio-pics singing about Jesus as Cash takes the lead; but truth be told, any of these tunes is as good as the next, and again, no hook is required to assert any of their genuine significance.) Indeed, as usual, Charles even combines elements of two or three genres at once for particularly moving effect. And despite these finished masters receiving augmentation from modern musicians, since the star was no longer able to assist, none sounds removed from Charles’ work of the second half of his career it mines—which proved as soulful as his younger days. (Here’s one musician that never went bland or boring, one that used even strings and horns for grand emotions rather than smaltz, glitz, empty bombast, and melodrama). Some of the selections are better than others, but with Charles leading the act with his slightly southern-inflected, rich-bodied vocals and keyboards, you can almost see him rear his head back, and tilt it side to side as he wails, his taut neck muscles putting his very soul into each vocal, his shades hiding his eyes but not his emotive passion evoking desperation, frustration, sticky love, and fervent pleading. The only complaint: it’s time the entire Ray Charles Robinson vaults were cracked open in a Beatles Anthology manner. C’mon Concord, lay it all on us if you can! (concordmusicgroup.com)