A prayer wrapped in soul and electricity, where vulnerability becomes its own kind of power
When Leslie West included “People Get Ready” on his 2015 album Soundcheck, the recording did not enter major chart territory, yet it resonated deeply with longtime listeners and critics who understood the weight of the moment. Years into a career built on thunderous tones, towering riffs and raw vocal grit, West chose to revisit Curtis Mayfield’s revered gospel soul classic, and in doing so, revealed a softer but no less powerful dimension of his artistry. The live performance at Relix, where he delivered the song with minimal accompaniment, further cemented this version as one of the most emotionally sincere interpretations of his later career.
What makes West’s rendition compelling is not technical brilliance or reinterpretive audacity, but humility. His voice, roughened by decades of living, touring and loss, carries an emotional register that cannot be faked. The original song speaks of hope, preparation and spiritual readiness, a message rooted in civil rights urgency and quiet faith. In West’s hands, these themes shift slightly inward. The song becomes reflective rather than declarative, personal rather than communal. It is the sound of a man looking back on what he has survived, what he has learned and what still lies beyond the horizon.
The guitar work is restrained, almost conversational. Where some players might fill space with ornament or flourish, West chooses patience. His tone, thick and instantly recognizable, functions like a voice parallel to his own. Notes bloom and fade with a kind of acceptance, honoring the melody rather than reinventing it. The silence between phrases becomes its own language, carrying weight equal to any lyric or chord.
Listening to this version, one senses a merging of stories. Mayfield wrote from the battlefield of social struggle, a world demanding courage and preparation. West, decades later, performs from a place touched by illness, personal battles and the quiet knowledge that time is no longer limitless. The message remains the same, yet the emotional angle shifts from collective liberation to spiritual readiness, reflection and perseverance.
For listeners familiar with West’s earlier work with Mountain and his defining electric ferocity, this performance feels like a turning of the page. Not a farewell, but a moment of stillness. A reminder that even the loudest voices eventually find meaning in softness.
In the end, West does not simply cover “People Get Ready.” He inhabits it. He breathes through it. And in doing so, he leaves listeners with something rare in modern interpretations of iconic songs: sincerity untouched by ego.