Now that George Harrison's visa problems are no longer a consideration, Billy Preston's back in the US for this recording, with George on lead guitar (also helping out at the mixing board), Quincy Jones for any fancy arrangements, a ten-voice back-up choir, and as much more as anyone could possibly want. Yet Simple Song still manages to seem just that: 11 straightforward, Preston-soul numbers with strongly rhythmic, basically uncluttered arrangements. Start to stop, it's charisma and melisma and razzmatazz! And only one throwaway, "The Looner Tune," which fails to unify its serious "message" with the ringmaster's whistle, circus calliope organ, and clowntown voices.

Everything else is true fine mama and the right time and the way God planned it, from–paying homage to his own roots–Billy's Little Richard scream in "John Henry" (not the folk song, more like Stax in its heyday with a Harrison wah-wah overlay), to the "Drown in My Own Tears" piano riffs, the Raelettes-like backing ladies, and Bill's own immersion in the music, singing his heart and his soul out in, would you believe, a stone-soul "My Country 'Tis of Thee." "Let freedom, oh Lord, let freedom, let it ring!"

There's the upbeat, funky stuff, of course: "Should've Known Better" with the horns heraldic and proud; "You Done Got Older" with Billy's multi-keyboards in all channels; and the incredible wah-wah organ effects (I think) of an instrumental "Outa-Space." Also, the prestigious Preston religious touch: "Swing Down Chariot" as Bill and his midnight organ and his dawning electric piano and his twilight chorale swing down and into a bright-noontide gospel groove. "God Is Great" with everything left simple and rocking–bass, drums, and Billy three times over. Even the old Vincent Youmans standard, "Without a Song"–here done and done again with a passion bespeaking Billy's enduring spirit and indelible philosophy: life really isn't worth living, without a song.

And, as if all that weren't enough, my picks for a killer single, "The Bus" and the album's title tune. "The funky system's got to fall/Or it's gotta be changed to include us all," sings the man over organ, congas, shakers, and bass; and his chorus answers, "The bus is comin'! ... Gotta get on the bus!" Which is the major difference between the old Apple albums and this new release: what was leisurely soulful before, super-(if not over) produced, has now become imperative, insistent, and compelling. Listening to Billy Preston, you really can believe once more in the saving powers of music.

Thus "I Wrote a Simple Song": "They took my simple song,/They changed the words and the melody,/Made it all sound wrong,/Now it all sounds like a symphony." A commentary on Apple? Probably not–no grudges in Billy's soul. Besides, there's Quincy Jones' joke strings passage and George's plaintively powerful, subtly shimmering slide. But all the pieces fit together, from piano-and-cymbals opening to slow fade past the break for trombone and bass. It's got everything under control. Just like the album as a whole. And you know too that God's good music-man Billy Preston–heir to the mantle of Cosmic Ray–really means it when he sings, "I don't care if it makes the charts, y'all,/I only wrote it for you and me." (RS 98)

ED LEIMBACHER