A Bassist's Arrival, Fully Formed
Children of Forever sounds as warm and full of possibility now as it did in the early '70s.
Stanley Clarke's debut arrived without fanfare but with the kind of musicianship that made skeptics listen twice. Children of Forever (1973) didn't explode onto the scene — it built its reputation steadily, the kind of record that serious musicians heard first and that gradually found its audience among listeners who cared about what a bass player could actually do. AllMusic reviewer Thom Jurek later noted that the album "has aged exceedingly well, and sounds as warm, inviting, and full of possibility in the early 21st century as it did in the early '70s."
What you hear across these sessions is Clarke already comfortable in the center of a room full of accomplished people. Chick Corea on keyboards, Lenny White on drums, Pat Martino on guitar — the band swings with the kind of ease that comes from musicians who understand each other's language. Vocalists Dee Dee Bridgewater and Andy Bey bring warmth to tracks where Clarke's bass might otherwise dominate, while Arthur Webb's flute drifts in with a lighter touch. Clarke's instrument sits in the middle of everything, neither showing off nor hiding. He sounds like he belongs here.
This is the album to start with if you want to understand Clarke's foundation. It's not his flashiest work, and it's not trying to be. It's a working musician's introduction — confident, musical, and genuinely likable from start to finish.
