Barrence Whitfield & The Savages - Soul Titans Of Saturn album review

A timeless knot of soul-powered desperation, salvation and reckless, blinding good times all in one

Cover art for Barrence Whitfield & The Savages - Soul Titans Of Saturn

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While you and I are frittering away our time with whatever dumb bullshit our bosses want, Barrence Whitfield and his Savages are blowing their minds watching Sun Ra documentaries, wailing on saxes and writing gonzo rockers like I Can’t Get No Ride, Edie Please and the far-out space blues jammer I Want To Go To Mars. Thank Christ somebody’s got their priorities straight.

Whitfield (née Barry White – true) has been an enduring legend in his adopted hometown of Boston since the 80s, but it’s about time the world at large got with it. The aptly named Savages are absolute monsters here, belting out high-octane, high-velocity soul, rave-up rock’n’roll, lean and sizzling blues, even street-corner doo-wop, with almost alarming accuracy, as Whitfield delivers one jaw-dropping bucket-of-sweat vocal performance after another. Soul Flowers Of Titan is an all-night rocker, that’s for sure. Could take all weekend.


Came from the sky like a 747. Classic Rock’s least-reputable byline-grabber since 2003. Several decades deep into the music industry. Got fired from an early incarnation of Anal C**t after one show. 30 years later, got fired from the New York Times after one week. Likes rock and hates everything else. Still believes in Zodiac Mindwarp and the Love Reaction, against all better judgment.