The Soul Survivors

Roberta:
The band was SENSATIONAL.
They TORE it up.
Let's really try to do this in Syracuse.
They were ASTOUNDING.
Detroit loved them.
They're playing was solid, in the pocket, infectious and they had everyone in MOTOWN on their feet moving, grooving and dancing in the aisles.
THANKS, Roberta. So very much.

They WOWED Detroit and they wowed me and this ain't my first rodeo.
Frank Malfatino
Producer of Detroit & Syracuse Jazz Festival's. - Frank Malfatino, Artistic Director

For the first time since the Tube bombings, this staunch Soho redoubt looked more like its old self last night. A good Monday-night crowd turned out to welcome a worthy band of American veterans low on surprises but high on human qualities that should play particularly well this week, such as warmth, relaxation and all-round soulfulness.
Fronted by Cornell Dupree, an unflappable Texan who can probably play the guitar in his sleep, they laid down a comfortable brand of jazz-tinged R'n'B that has never gone out of date. Chuck Rainey, a partner of Dupree's in the days when both were assisting tenor-sax titan King Curtis to serve up his Mephis Soul Stew, set the tone with a funky Fender-bass line for Eddie Harris's old favourite, Freedom Jazz Dance.
Dr. John's regular saxman, Ronnie Cuber, took over here. It was a surprise to find him playing tenor sax, but like most baritone-saxmen, he proved expert on the smaller horn, mixing agile post-bop runs with some of Curtis's broad-toned power. Dupree, coaxing his standard-issue Strat to sing the blues in two-part harmony, then transmuted a Beatles classic into pure soul. During the applause, his back-announcement was succinct. "That was Somethin'," he said.
Les McCann, hitherto content to comp tidily at the electric piano, rounded off the set with two blues vocals, paced admirably by drummer Buddy Williams, and a rousting version of Compared to What that recalled the heyday of Roberta Flack and the great Donny Hathaway.
Opposite them, the diminuitive Sheena Davis dang perkily and fronted her groupe with newfound confidence. "Where are the bouncers?" she enquired mildly when a humorist interrupted one of her discursive announcements. A busy tour schedule has clearly sharpened her wit and her skill. At Last, with a bow to Etta James, was a fine gospel-ballad.
- Jack Massarik, London Evening Standard (07/19)