Holmes trades his church-born intensity for straight-ahead funk and soul-jazz orchestration.
Six Million Dollar Man arrived in 1975 as a straightforward organ-funk record built on television theme material. It was not a critical sensation — Flying Dutchman releases at this point were more commercial than cutting-edge, and the album's tie to pop culture gave it an easy-listening veneer that jazz listeners typically avoided. But the real work here is Oliver Nelson's arrangement and conducting. This is not Hammond B3 soul-jazz in the traditional sense. Holmes plays lighter, more rhythmic lines over a large ensemble that includes horn sections, strings of saxophones and trombones, and a rhythm section that locks hard. Tom Scott on tenor and David T. Walker on guitar push the harmonic sophistication; the drums cycle between Jim Gordon and Shelly Manne, both masters of pocket playing. Tracks move between theme-song curiosities and extended soul-funk grooves where Holmes's organ becomes a textural voice rather than the lead voice.
The appeal is almost accidental — a session album that turns into something genuinely listenable because Nelson knew how to write for a big band without drowning the soloists. It is not a peak Holmes record, and it trades the gospelly urgency of his earlier work for a cooler, more arranged aesthetic. But if you want to hear what late-1970s Flying Dutchman jazz sounded like when the label still had serious arrangers and studio money, this is efficient proof. The album sank fast and never built a cult reputation. It remains peripheral, buried under Holmes's more canonical recordings.
