José James just can’t leave the ’70s alone. Or maybe it’s the other way around. The singer, songwriter, bandleader, and producer was born in 1978, after all, but over his past 17 years of fundamentally forward-looking, blessedly mercurial music, he keeps getting pulled back in. His 2013 Blue Note breakthrough No Beginning No End revisited the hooky, funky, jazz-streaked songcraft of the time through a modern crate-digger’s ears. On 2020’s No Beginning No End 2 — James’ debut on his own Rainbow Blonde Records — he went back through the portal with a small army of fellow celebrated eclecticists. Just last year, there was the album 1978, a richly layered love letter to said year that felt deep, luxe, and cool. It’s as if — vested with the restless fluidity of jazz, the tuned-in sensitivity of soul, and the revisionist grit of hip-hop — he is trying to play his way into the exact moment when, culturally speaking, everything was about to change.
“I'm still so fascinated by the tension in that era of all these seemingly clashing things happening at once,” says James. “The loft scene, the jazz scene, Elton and Billy, Bob Marley, the Isleys, Funkadelic, disco being this behemoth in a way I don't think we even understand today… And then there’s where everybody went from there — into hip-hop, into punk rock, exploding jazz. It's like a summation of the ’70s, and it's about to transform. It's the peak of the rollercoaster.”
Literally breaking into history is impossible, of course, but James’ new LP, 1978: Revenge of the Dragon, does feel like breaking through or bursting out. In loving contrast to its predecessor, the fresh set plays hot, like a Friday night out at the Mudd Club in its prime. Though he’s dreamt up albums with collaborator counts approaching the dozens, James gathered a tight crew for this one. Himself and Taali on vocals. BIGYUKI on keys and analog synth. Jharis Yokley on drums. Bass split between David Ginyard (Blood Orange, Terence Blanchard) and Kyle Miles (Michelle Ndgeocello, Nick Hakim). And an all-star brass lineup: Takuya Kuroda on trumpet, young lion Ebban Dorsey on alto sax, and genre-spanning ronin Ben Wendel on tenor sax. They set up in Dreamland Studios near Woodstock, a restored 19th century church, and recorded live to tape, two tracks, drums pushed to the max — “a small homage to the rise of punk,” says James.
In that place out of time, the band laid down a handful of choice covers and some wild originals, like the single “They Sleep, We Grind (for Badu),” a decades-collapsing cut powered by an ugly groove. Steeped in dub, funk, and sampledelia, James chants an artists’ mantra (“They sleep, we grind / Man, f--- your nine to five”), makes lyrical callouts to Marley and Nas, and channels everything from George Clinton to J Dilla, not to mention the earthy mysticism of Erykah Badu. In 2023, James released and toured his Badu covers LP, On & On. “Living in her musical house for a year was transformative,” he says. “This is my summary of everything I learned through her, tying it to this idea that artists move differently. We are in society but we are outside, too, looking out and in at the same time. Our hours are different, our schedules are different.”
To that point, James and co. actually began each day in the woods, filming the album’s visual companion piece, Revenge of the Dragon, an honest-to-God kung-fu short complete with bad overdubs, training montages, camera tricks, and plot twists. The film pays tribute not only to the genre’s greatest year (1978, of course), but also its cinematic exchange with Blaxploitation, plus James’ own recent Shaolin training and admiration for Bruce Lee as a culture-bridging force (the LP’s cover recreates an iconic shot of Lee). On top of that, says James, “We had this immediacy in the studio. Live, one take, no overdubbing. I feel like that's where the martial arts piece comes in, where it's about being relaxed but also aware, and there's immediacy in your movements.”
Across the project, tribute takes that refracted, multifaceted form. From his personal late-’70s playlist, James chose four covers reflecting the era’s disco-fied churn: the MJ-meets-Quincy dancefloor masterpiece “Rock With You”; Herbie Hancock’s prescient vocoder fever dream, “I Thought It Was You”; and a pair of Black-radio hits from two bands whose fans typically wouldn’t have been caught dead in the same stadium: “Miss You” by the Rolling Stones and the Bee Gees’ “Inside and Out.” All of it gets filtered through a contemporary Black (and beyond) lens, coming out loud, free, funky, and buzzing — dynamic, yes, but also of a joyous piece.
1978: Revenge of the Dragon transports you to a crowded room where all this is playing out in real time. That feeling is helped out by opener “Tokyo Daydream,” a bass-driven swan dive into a neverending night of boutique bar-hopping and neon revelry. Later, “Rise of the Tiger” finds James bringing rare braggadocio to a propulsive track with growling synth lines and a hunger for whatever comes next. And then there’s the closer, “Last Call at the Mudd Club,” which with its upbeat energy and string of Stevie-inspired pickup lines, evokes the sort of unabashedly elated track the DJ throws on at 3:56 a.m. before everyone is kicked out. “I wanted to leave the album on that note,” says James. “If this was a night out in New York, this would be the last thing you hear before you get in that taxi and go back to your apartment.” Or, perhaps, back to 2025.
