" data-original-title="" title="">Al Green, which exposed then to large audiences. Enthusiasm for Cymande among their fellow Brits, however, was muted. Frustrated by a lack of attention in their homeland, the band members went their separate ways in 1975.

But then, over the ensuing decades, people slowly began to discover Cymande. Rappers and DJs began digging into those early albums and sampling the infectious licks. Those samples caught ears around the world and many owners of those ears reached into the source material and pulled out Cymande. One by one and without any marketing or advertising budget, people became aware of Cymande and slowly, the legend grew. Eventually, the band realized a fan base had developed, completely on its own, and with that growth came a demand for more concerts and recordings. By the mid-2010s, the band had reformed and hit the road.

On the heels of the release of their album Renascence (BMG, 2025), the band has been on tour and stopped in Denver for a one-night stand at the Bluebird. Theater. Time has taken a toll on the original band members, but the leaders and principal songwriters remain vital and up front in the band's lineup. Guitarist Patrick Patterson and bassist Steve Scipio have been friends since age 13. When the band split in the 1970s, they went to law school and became lawyers in the Caribbean area. Now, back on stage, they also add backing vocals in addition to their instrumental duties. Their instrumental chops have survived the decades intact.

Friday night, the band laid down groove after groove, expertly crafted to incite widespread head-nodding. Funk is one of the many genres that Cymande threw into its mix over half a century ago and it remains prominent today. But it is a subtle funk, one not intended to create neck dislocations, only steady head bobs. And that is important, considering much of its audience has been watching middle age recede in the rearview mirror for a few decades. But that was not the only demographic present at the Bluebird Friday night. The age range of the audience was as wide as the band's lifespan. The 20-somethings and the Social Security crowd easily mingled with each other and all ages in between.

The band kicked off the evening with "Sweeden" from their 2025 album. That tune, like most of the songs on the album, seamlessly fits into the Cymande oeuvre lyrically, melodically and rhythmically. During the course of the evening, the band offered two other new songs, "How We Roll" and "Chasing an Empty Dream." The rest of the set list focused on their early material and especially their first album Cymande (Janus, 1972), drawing five tracks from that one.

Perhaps the individual most responsible for Cymande's signature catchy sound is bassist Scipio. Friday night at the Bluebird, he laid down those infectious bass lines, many of which have been sampled over the years. He handled the complex figures with a smile, often while adding backing vocals. Supporting those bass lines were the drums and the congas and together, they guaranteed those noddin' noggins.

Another recently revivified item appeared before and after the concert when about a dozen people offered their vinyl Cymande records for autographs by the band. All the records in attendance were the first album and the second, Second Time Round (Janus, 1973). Janus was a subsidiary of the Chess record label, the famous Chicago blues imprint. In the 1970s, the operation had a good distribution system resulting in plenty of copies working their way to Colorado, many of which have survived for over half a century. Although the band recorded its third album, Promised Heights (Contempo, 1974), at Chess studios, it was released on a different label, probably with inadequate distribution.

Although not an original member, lead vocalist Raymond Simpson has been a long-time band member. Friday night, he proved to be a charismatic front man and his smooth voice and delivery contributed mightily to the often trance-inducing grooves. The three-man horn section provided unison bursts, punctuating melodic passages, as well as ensemble playing that was the focus of other parts and, of course, individual solos on top of the constant undulation below.

"The Message" from their first album got a new treatment with the addition of a chant, suitable for audience participation, "Music is the message and the message is music," reminiscent of Marshall McLuhan's "The medium is the massage." Another appendage tacked onto "The Message" was a brief tease of