The sensation of fondness fills my body as I look at the somewhat worn album cover. Super Fly written in yellow font appears in the bottom left corner of the album cover. For a moment, I sit in a daze reminiscing of the couple of times my dad played this record. At the age of 5 or maybe 6, I felt connected to the soulfulness…the funkiness of the music. On each occurrence, I would slowly gravitate to the landing where my dad’s wooden stereo console cabinet stood. He would glance my way and then shoo me away. I guess it was his attempt to protect my virgin ears from the album’s lyrical content I would later in my teenage years revere for its realism of ghetto life. Despite my dad’s futile attempts, I would find my way to a walk-in pantry about 75 feet away from the landing. There in the darkness, I sat soaking in the sounds …enjoying the music…singing along to the lyrics my dad did not want me to hear. I really loved singing, “I’m your mama I’m your daddy. I’m that nigga in the alley. I’m your doctor when you need. Want some coke have some weed. You know me I’m your friend. Your main boy thick and then. I’m your pusherman.” As I silently sang, I always cluelessly wondered why a mama, daddy, or doctor would offer someone to drink a coke and eat weeds. The thought seemed disgusting to me, but I guess it was delicious for some people – and who is a nigga?

My mind swerves off memory lane as I lay Curtis Mayfield’s Super Fly record on the turntable platter. I plop myself on the sofa…anticipating the album opening with the sound of the organ accompanied by the hand drums, followed by the hi-hats, the thump of the kick drum, a string pluck of the electric bass, funky riffs on the electric guitar – then DA DA DA DUM – melodic strings and horns cut through intensifying the composition. “Little child. Running wild. Watch a while. You see he never smiles,” Mayfield sings in a measured falsetto vocal register on Little Child Runnin’ Wild – a perfect opening track for one of the best albums ever made, in my humble opinion.

With the opening of Pusherman, a full grin slides across my face followed by a gentle laugh. My childhood memory of someone drinking a coke and eating weeds crosses my mind. Those childhood thoughts seem silly now but encapsulates why my dad shooed me away when he played this record. Sometimes you don’t know what you don’t know…especially when you are young and dumb to the ways of the world.

Like ice in lemonade on a muggy day, the instrumentation of Pusherman perfectly meshes with Mayfield’s singing some of the realest words describing a hustler…a drug dealer…or should I say a pusherman’s life. And guess what? Mayfield is just warming up!

“Hey hey…love love…yeh yeh…ah ha,” Mayfield soulfully bellows at the beginning of Freddie’s Dead. If you grew up in the ghetto, you probably know or knew a Freddie. A young man or woman with so much potential but becomes a casualty of the dope game. The brass, strings, woodwinds, and percussions play perfectly off each other. My ears hone in to the flute’s melody that adds a graceful polish to the rhythmic pattern.

Side 1 comes to an end, and I head over to flip the record to side 2 on the turntable. The start of Give Me Your Love brings chills to my body…something it does every time I hear the song. Mayfield’s genius shines brightly with the opening guitar chords riding the rhythm of the hand drums, which both instruments are nicely enveloped by crisp hi-hats. As the seconds pass, the composition adds layers of unique chords played on the piano, a harp, more guitars, a solid string section, and Mayfield’s vocal sound effects. With 1 and half minutes in, Mayfield flushes out the song’s mood singing, “Give me your love…give me your love.” The music and lyrics authentically captures a paranoid hustler’s affection and desire to be loved by a significant other they have grown close to. Throughout the song, the harmony has the vibes of push and pull…up and down…with a twist of sweet calmness to solidify the promise of togetherness.

Eddie You Should Know Better paints a vivid picture of the close friend or family member that knows a hustler’s upbringing or great potential they had as a child. The now well-defined pattern of Super Fly is clear with each song opening with a unique harmony. Not to be overlooked, the song’s lyrics paint vivid pictures of a hustler’s life – especially since many big-time hustlers have leadership qualities of intellect, charisma, and adaptability. In Eddie You Should Know Better, Mayfield lays it out singing, “Eddie you should know better. Brother you know you’re wrong. Think of the tears and fears…you bring to your folks back home. They’d say where did he go wrong…my lord. We planned and worked hard from the very start. Tried to make him better than all the rest. But the brother proved to be so much less.”

Before Nancy Reagan pushed the Just Say No campaign, Mayfield composed a more straightforward and authentic drug prevention anthem with No Thing On Me (Cocaine Song). Mayfield opens the song with some simple words of wisdom by proclaiming, “I’ve met many people over the years. And in my opinion I have found that people are the same everywhere. They have the same fears. Shed similar tears. Die in so many years. The oppressed seem to have suffered the most in every continent, coast to coast. Now our lives are in the hands of the pusherman. We break it all down in hopes that you might understand how to protect yourself. Don’t make no profit for the man.”

After the words of wisdom, Mayfield in his soulful falsetto touts, “I’m so glad I’ve got my own. So glad that I can see. My life’s a natural high. The man can’t put no thing on me,” No Thing On Me lyrics provides encouragement to rise above the despair and avoid chasing the temporary fulfillment of a synthetic high from drugs – a point summarized by Mayfield singing, “While your inner mind is pleased. Your conscience is only teased. More and more you feed. Until you grow another need. Playing fantasy. You have no reality.”

For the grand finale, Superfly starts with a 17 second build of funky bass guitar licks grooving with a solid percussion section leading to a serenade of horns and wah wah of an electric guitar. Mayfield opens with, “Darkest of night. With the moon shining bright. There’s a set goin’ strong. Lotta things goin’ on. The man of the hour. Has an air of great power. The dudes have envied him for so long.” Myself, being raised in the ghetto, the lyrics Mayfield sings bring visions of the super fly or fresh hustler on the block. The D-boy with the flashy whip, dope clothes, the hottest dime piece, and surrounded by plenty down low hating homies plotting to take his place. The song perfectly sums up Priest the main character and his dilemma in the Super Fly movie. When the album ends, I sit in a moment of silence…reflecting on my childhood memories connected to this album. After the moment passes, I look behind me to see my son standing on the steps with a smile on his face. I guess history does repeat…

After further review…

In July 1972, Super Fly was released by Curtom Records, an independent label co-owned by Mayfield and Eddie Thomas. On September 7, 1972, the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) certified the Super Fly album as a gold album. About four months later, the RIAA certified the Super Fly single as a gold single. As part of the 15th Annual Grammy Awards, Mayfield received nominations for Best R&B Vocal Performance (Freddie’s Dead), Best R&B Instrumental Performance (Junkie Chase), Best R&B Song (Freddie’s Dead), and Best Original Score Written For A Motion Picture or Television Special (Super Fly album). In 1998, Super Fly was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame. Super Fly reached number 1 on both the Billboard Pop Album and R&B Album charts. Additionally, three songs charted on Billboard, which were Freddie’s Dead, Super Fly, and Give Me Your Love.

On March 20, 2019, the Library of Congress announced the addition of Super Fly to the National Recording Registry. Upon Super Fly induction into the National Recording Registry, Author Josiah Howard wrote, “Superfly, a collection of nine songs written, produced and performed by Mayfield, is one of the most critically praised, politically aware, and financially successful blaxploitation cinema soundtrack albums ever made. And it’s no wonder: the album spawned two million-selling Top Ten pop and R&B hits–‘Superfly’ and ‘Freddie’s Dead’ –continued the tradition of social commentary in popular black music and served as a subversive dissonant–a counter story to the story being played out on the screen.”