During the last few years of the ‘60s music saw an incredible ground swell of talent take to the studio to release an untold amount of interesting music. Granted, some of the efforts are half cocked and display nothing more than a keen ability to ape some other group’s style. But even when that’s the case, the copy cats – or Monkees – were able to concoct music the held at least a bit of redeeming value.

That being said, Ike and Tina Turner were able to issue at least twenty albums during the decade. And while the pair is generally remember more for the narrative of its lives than its music, the Tuners were able to record some gems. Of course with the ridiculous amount of material that they issued, a few average albums were bound to be released. And while there isn’t anything that’s too offensive about Outta Season, there’s nothing too remarkable about anything here contrasting some of the live discs that were issued for roughly the same purpose: too make a dollar.

And really, as much as can be said about Ike Turner, he was a good business man.

In addition to his business acumen, though, was the fact that Ike possessed a ridiculous skill on guitar – most people forget that. Working on early rock tracks like “Rocket 88,” Ike was and always will be an important part of the genre’s solidifying years. That being said, the spate of covers that make up Outta Season are chosen for not just Tina’s ability to belt ‘em out, but for each track to allow Ike some solo space.

Released on Blue Thumb Records, a short lived, but collectable imprint, this particular Ike and Tina release might be most memorable for the imagery that the cover makes use of. Both principals are bedecked in white face paint, eating watermelons. The year of the album’s release, 1968, would mark the most violent year of the counter culture’s resistance to the Vietnam War as well as the general political discourse that the States were enmeshed. So even as the cover should be shocking at any time, ’68 was an especially politically charged year, riots and all.

The music that the disc purports is all above boards stuffs. Tina doesn’t loose it and go off into some husky trance delivering lines of barked vocals, but does turn in some decent performances. When both she and Ike hit a stride, the disc works. “3 O'Clock In The Morning Blues” finds both Turners getting over with Ike working in some interesting stuttery guitar lines. More notable, though, is “Grumbling,” the only instrumental feature. Here he goes in on a sensible and traditional melody. By the time the group hits its first break, though, it becomes clear that Ike aims at making his guitar groan in ways that most wouldn’t find pleasurable. The odd approach to musicality on this particular track renders it a star amidst a field of middling successes. And while this performance won’t rectify Ike’s image in the eyes of the public, it should serve to explicate his musical vision.