The fifth Eccentric Soul excavation, chronicling the work of Phoenix, Arizona producer Mighty Mike Lenaburg was originally recorded in the 60s or 70s. Numero Group's collections unearth the shadow of the soul and funk behemoths that are internationally known to provide coverage of the regional labels that never quite broke through and inevitably buckled under economic pressure. The music on these collections offer an engrossing analogue to the best known genre offerings of their era. Though rough and showing the edges of working under such sparse conditions, the musicianship is often comparable to the best of the era. This is not, however, the well oiled engine of a Motown or Stax compilation, in which the recording seems clean and perfect. Much of the appeal that soul music holds comes from the juxtaposition of almost robotic, consummate playing and the human sloppiness and emotion that can be wrung while still holding that together. Local labels often epitomized this. Where besides Phoenix could you get a track like The Quarrel by the Newlyweds, a vicious and uncensored dispute between partners set to music that predated the disturbing RZA classic Domestic Violence by years? Michael Liggens & The Super Souls vamp cheek popping rhythms, Ernie Isley-esque psychedelic guitar and a melodic flute over the usual rhythm section, and the noisy grit actually makes the exercise funkier, vocals only intruding for short, pleading harmonies similar to sustained organ chords. That compressed, low fi quality impresses with soul much more than, say, singer songwriter indie rock, as on Sheila Jack's pocket horn punch epic I've Got To Have You. Michael Liggins' Black and Beautiful is fascinating in both demonstrating a local variant of the black pride that was pulsing through American soul music in its time, but also how those sentiments could mesh sublimely with a traditional love ballad. The Soul Blenders, and Ronnie Whitehead execute dirty, sweaty, and squiggly workouts worthy of James Brown. We the People offer a deep, dark psychedelic funk strut while creating pleading hymns to American discontent. The Soulsations prove themselves as rhythmic as their more mythologized peers. The reality is that every American city with a sizable black population was a hotbed of creativity in the 60s and 70s (and beyond, though corporatism has blunted the effectiveness of local labels and crippled the development of such special music). In Phoenix, there was a guy named Mike Lenaburg who hustled and did everything, who DJed and sold music and produced, who captured some timeless music that was only happening then (and there). It should have broken through. It should not have been forgotten. It is a service for Numero Group to fix those mistakes.