Boyd McCoy seems to be somewhat legendary. Like the chimera, he may be a little too outlandish to have ever existed in the first place. I'm proud to say he hails from my hometown of Rochester, New York, though beyond that I can discover next to nothing about him. He's not in the phone book. The elitist record store guy downtown was embarrassed when I brought him up, and didn't know anything about him artistically or personally. I know he released a couple of LPs that Japanese and British dealers want stupid money for.
That brings us to this ultra-rare offering- a chunky little nugget of white soul that has soul. You'll hear.
Released on Funky Records (also of Rochester, and seemingly an imprint of Kama Sutra, which I think was an imprint of Buddha), these two sides have a lot working against them. Luckily, what they lack in polish, pitch, and native ability, everyone on this record makes up for with ass-kicking enthusiasm. Nobody on these tracks is giving less than 100 percent- not the drummer, not the back-up singers, not Mr. McCoy himself, and certainly not the fucking bassist. Oh aspiring musicians: This is the Way to make Music.Enjoy!
