Sweet Surrender by Paul G Ambrose: A Funky, Soulful Trip Down Memory Lane
Alright, let’s get real for a sec. If you’re into that raw, unfiltered blend of funk, soul, and folk with just enough grit to keep things interesting, Sweet Surrender is gonna slap you in the face—in the best way possible. Released back in ’75 (yeah, ancient history), this UK/Europe gem from Stag Music still hits different. It's not perfect, but damn if it doesn’t have character.
Now, I’ll be straight up—this album ain’t all killer, no filler. But when it works, it REALLY works. Take “Me And Mrs Jones,” for example. Yeah, yeah, we’ve heard covers of this one before, but Ambrose brings something fresh to the table. His vocals are smooth as butter on burnt toast, and the groove? Man, it’s so laid-back it feels like it might fall over—but it never does. That bassline alone could make your grandma bust a move at a wedding. You remember this track because it sneaks up on you. One minute you're chillin', the next you're humming it while brushing your teeth. Annoyingly catchy? Maybe. Genius? Absolutely.
Then there’s “Sweet Surrender,” the title track. Holy crap, this song is fire. It’s got that slow-burn vibe, dripping with emotion and a kinda desperate hopefulness. The strings? Killer. The lyrics? Simple yet sharp enough to stick in your brain like gum under a desk. It’s one of those songs where you think, "Damn, did he write this after getting his heart stomped on or what?" Either way, it sticks with you. Not in some sappy rom-com way, more like a punch-to-the-gut kind of reminder that love can hurt—but also heal. Or whatever.
The rest of the tracks aren’t bad either. “Lean On Me” gets props for pure soul power, though let’s admit, nobody’s topping Bill Withers here. And “When Will I See You Again”? Well, it’s sweet enough to give you cavities, but hey, sometimes sugary stuff hits the spot.
Here’s the kicker though—why isn’t Paul G Ambrose bigger? Like, seriously? This dude had chops, man. Maybe it was the timing, maybe it was bad marketing, or maybe people back then weren’t ready for his weird mix of genres. Who knows? But listening to Sweet Surrender now feels like finding an old vinyl in your attic and realizing it’s worth way more than you thought.
So yeah, check it out. Just don’t blame me if you end up blasting “Me And Mrs Jones” on repeat and annoying your cat. Final thought? Sometimes surrendering sounds sweeter than fighting—and Ambrose proves that point loud and clear. Now go listen.
