On Rick James’ third album (released the same year as his Bustin’ Out Of L Seven), all but two of the song names invoke love in one form or another, starting with the barely-concealed double entendre of “Love Gun”. The other main link is the songs’ ballsy brand of funk, placing James squarely at the center of focus, with the backing band feeling almost incidental despite their strong playing.
It makes James come off as more of a rock star than a James Brown-styled ringleader, and in spite of the cocaine habit which was already in firm swing, he tempers the swagger (and occasional out-right shouting) with softness, sweetness, and soulfulness, which has the side effect of making the heavy love focus not seem quite so out of place. And while the movement from song to song can seem a bit jarring, the full run through the album finds a weird but very effective balance to its energy and momentum, even with the lengthy spoken-word segment of “Stormy Love”. Distinctive and impressive, with very little dead weight despite its unconventional shaping.
Scrambled Brains 