The Dictionary of Soul: General Johnson

General Norman Johnson was born in Norfolk, Virginia in 1941 and began singing in church as a boy. By the age of 12, young General (his real given name) had formed his first group, dubbed The Humdingers.

By the late 1950s, Johnson and his mates - Milton Wells, Gene and Dorsey Knight, and Leslie Fleton - thought they were on the verge of something big. "We had a contract with Atlantic as The Humdingers," recalled Johnson in a 1987 interview with Soul Express. "We did some demos, but they were never released because [of a conflict with management] and our careers went down the tube. The music we did was kind of doo-wopish."

The Norfolk quintet headed down to New Orleans and had its first bit of luck. Renamed The Showmen, their breakout single was a B-side: "I Will Stand." The 1961 The production board for that 45rpm single was helmed by a then-unknown Allen Touissant at Minit Records. The tune made it to the bottom of both the R&B and Pop charts. The New York Times called "I Will Stand," written by Johnson, "a defiant ode to the power of rock 'n roll." The listener can hear the doo-wop influence laid over the unmistakable Crescent City beat.

The Showmen's upbeat brand of rhythm and blues became commonly known as "Carolina beach music." Another prime example of their unique regional sound - as recognizable as the soul strongholds of Chicago or Philadelphia - is the fine "Our Love Will Grow."

General Johnson moved to Detroit in 1969 to join a group being formed by famed Motown songwriters and producers Brian Holland, Lamont Dozier and Eddie Holland. The hitmakers had had a famous falling out with record titan Barry Gordy and were starting their own label, Invictus.

The name given to the fledgling four vocal stylists was The Chairmen of the Board. And they immediately lived up to their grandiose title when they hit No. 3 on the Billboard singles chart with the all-time soul jukebox (and now oldies radio) classic "Give Me Just a Little More Time." Johnson is captivating on the record, providing a pleading, searing vocal punctuated by his unforgettable "Bbbrrrrr!" that lands near the end of the track. With that signature move, General Johnson made his own mark on rock and roll.

The Chairmen of the Board scored a few more minor hits ("Dangling On A String," "Pay To The Piper" and "Everything's Tuesday") before breaking up, mainly as a result of a salary dispute that Johnson had with Invictus.

But the early 1970s found Johnson's writing skills also earning him some money and industry recognition. The Top 10, Grammy winning "Patches" launched the career of Clarence Carter. And girl group the Honey Cone had success on the charts with songs like "Want Ads" and "One Monkey Don't Stop No Show."

Johnson took off to Europe after the dispute with Invictus, gaining some acclaim as a practitioner of what that continent dubbed as "Northern Soul." Upon his return to the States, he struck a deal with Clive Davis of Arista Records. "I stayed there two, three years. [Davis] paid me well, but I only did one album (1976's General Johnson)," recalled Johnson.

This led to a production gig for Martha Reeves, and then a meeting in California with Barry Gordy. "He was trying to get me to come to Motown. I would have loved to work with him, but my Ma was sick and I wanted to do something on my own, a business of my own," Johnson told Soul Express.

Thus was born Surfside Records in 1979, owned by Johnson and his partner Michael Branch. He returned back to the Carolinas and continued to practice his craft as an independent. The two also became booking agents, producing large shows over the years in the area starring the likes of The Chairmen of the Board, Cornelius Bothers and Sister Rose, The Tymes and The Emperors.

In one of his last interviews in June of this year, Johnson told The News & Observer that he preferred that type of musical life because he valued creative control and savored beach music. "That's the thing about a good song," he said. "Let's say that song was put out 10 years ago, the recording company is done, whoever wrote the song is dead or just ain't writing songs no more. But that song is still there."

General Johnson died this past 13 October in Atlanta due to complications of lung cancer. His friend Chris Beachley said, "He was the king of Carolina beach music."

[Ed. note: Thanks to our pal and reader Paul for the tip and initial research.]

The Dictionary of (Celtic) Soul: A Listener's Guide To The Soundtrack of "The Commitments"

--We'll ask Jimmy, said Outspan. --Jimmy'll know.

Jimmy Rabbitte knew his music. He knew his stuff alright. You'd never see Jimmy coming home from town without a new album or a 12-inch or at least a 7-inch single. Jimmy ate Melody Maker and the NME every week and Hot Press every two weeks. He listened to Dave Fanning and John Peel. He even read his sisters' Jackie when there was no one looking. So Jimmy knew his stuff.

So begins The Commitments, Irish novelist Roddy Doyle's first book of his "Barrytown Trilogy," a celebration of American soul music via the struggles of a group of Irish unemployed youth who form to become "Dublin's hardest working band."

Director Alan Parker's 1991 movie adaptation probably pulls a little more drama out of the story than Doyle intended, but the saga of Jimmy Rabbitte and his management of a band of vagabonds never takes its eye off the star of the show: the music that bled so successfully into the English and Irish music scene from the 1960s onward. In her review of the film for The New York Times, critic Janet Maslin said, "The Commitments finds Mr. Parker again doing what he does expertly: assembling a group of talented newcomers, editing snippets of their exploits into a hyperkinetic jumble, and filling the air with song. [It is an] exuberant valentine to American soul music and the impoverished Dublin teen-agers who think of it as magic."

TNOP proudly brings you a listening guide to the entire soundtrack of The Commitments in sequential order, along with the context in which they are played. Use it as a guide as you watch the movie or click the links where available to enjoy the originals as your own private playlist. [While the majority of the songs listed are performed by the film's cast, we have listed the artists who made the songs popular for your information.]

Cathy's Clown (The Everly Brothers) - Backdrop is a "boot sale" (or as it is known in the States, a "garage sale," in which Jimmy attempts to sell bootlegged tapes while sporting a Paul McCartney t-shirt.

24 Hours To Tulsa (Gene Pitney) & Needles & Pins (The Searchers) - Performed at a wedding reception by Jimmy's pals and their insufferable synth player.

I Can't Stand The Rain (Ann Peebles) - Amidst scenes of working class North Dublin and a series of often comic auditions, Jimmy declares: "We're gonna be playing Dublin soul!"

Can't Help Falling In Love (Elvis Presley) - The camera pans the wall of the Rabbitte household, showing photos of Pope John Paul II and Jimmy at his First Communion, then rises to reveal a large portrait of Elvis above both of them. Jimmy to his Dad: "Elvis is not soul!" The incredulous reply of his Father: "Elvis is God!"

Who's Sorry Now? (Connie Francis) - The Rabbitte's neighbor lady, clearly a product of a by-gone generation, sings a few bars of this song and looks hopefully at Jimmy and his mates, asking "Any chance for me lads?"

Only The Lonely (Roy Orbison) - The core of the new group is in the local pub when the attractive character Imelda Quirke (who will become a backup singer) is introduced to the story. As all the boys ogle her, Jimmy says with a manager's bravado "When this band is successful, the girls will be throwing their knickers at you." [Speaking of the Big O, later in the movie, looking to hock for amps and gear to play with, one of our protagonists will declare "everything's shite since Roy Orbison died."]

Watching vintage film of James Brown on The T.A.M.I. Show - "That's what you've got to measure up to: The Irish are the Blacks of Europe. Dubliners are the Blacks of Ireland. And North Dubliners are the Blacks of Dublin."

Slip Away (Clarence Carter) - In which we are introduced to the grizzled horn player Joey "The Lips" Fagan, who defensively indicates to the others that "I'm 16 years younger than B. B. King." Declaring "God sent me," Joey confidently states that "Our Irish brothers wouldn't be shooting the ass off each other if they just had soul."

Destination Anywhere (The Marvelettes) - This song introduces the three girls (Imelda, Bernie McGloughlin and Natalie Murphy) in the story, who will become singers with The Commitments. Jimmy uses the opportunity to preach that "Soul is the sound of sex and the factory: it grabs you by the balls and lifts you above the shite."

Nowhere To Run (Martha & The Vandellas) - The classic Motown track is a backdrop for a panorama of scenes starring the aspiring members of the band: Declan "Deco" Cuffe serenading first communicants on a local train; Imelda, Bernie and Natalie cautiously trying out their dance moves; guitarist Outspan Foster working his day job in a slaughterhouse; Jimmy seeking rehearsal space in the back of an ancient pool hall; and Steven Clifford and his mates loading an upright piano on the back of a VW pick-up truck.

Mustang Sally (Wilson Pickett) - The fits and starts of initial rehearsal center around this classic gut-bucket soul tune.

Do Right Woman, Do Right Man (Aretha Franklin) - The scene centers around Bernie's family's apartment in the North Dublin projects, where she is missing rehearsal in order to help her mother care for her younger siblings. A character remarks that Bernie - stuck in the traditional role of young women in Ireland - "needs the band more than any of us."

A Whiter Shade of Pale (Procol Harem) - Steven is seen playing the prog rock classic on the church organ when the young parish priest walks in. He convinces the father to allow The Commitments to play their first gig at the church community center in support of the "anti-heroine" campaign.

Too Many Fish In The Sea (The Marvelettes) - The second appearance of the marvelous Marvelettes mark the girls' first stab at carrying the vocals on a number, much to Deco's chagrin.

(Tell Me Why) I Don't Like Mondays (The Boomtown Rats) - This nihilist punk anthem is chosen for microphone check by the group's self-appointed bouncer (and later replacement drummer) Mickah Wallace, blatantly marking not only his opposite musical tastes but also lack of hope of any economic mobility.

Mr. Pitiful (Otis Redding) - While Deco shows no fear at the band's first appearance at the community center by ripping into an Otis Redding roof-raiser, the limited space on stage proves an . . . um . . . impediment.

(Theme From) "Shaft" (Issac Hayes) - Joey "The Lips" drops this unforgettable blaxploitation movie theme on the turntable in his room (located in his mother's house) in his process of seducing and bedding Bernie. The scene is cleverly juxtaposed with Joey's mother downstairs playing a hymn while positioned in front of her shrine to the Virgin Mary.

Take Me To The River (Al Green) - An apt choice marking The Commitments' formal baptism in front of their first "real" crowd at a pub gig.

The Dark End of the Street (James Carr) - This obscure, mournful ballad fits perfectly in back-to-back scenes. In the first, Jimmy is pictured at the sound board while the band plays. He looks around in a subtle fashion and sees for the first time that his creation - his band - is making a real connection with the audience. Unfortunately, that feeling is doused by his realization that everyone around him - the promoters, the equipment people, the band - all want money, instead of the simple satisfaction he feels. The action then moves to the local parish, where outside a poster reads "The Commitments - Saviours of Soul" and the parish priest is shown walking away into the church. Next we hear Steven. "When I was studying, I used to sing hymns," the young man whispers in the confessional. "Now I'm always humming 'When a Man Loves a Woman,' by Marvin Gaye." The priest corrects him: "It was Percy Sledge." The power of popular music permeates even the most traditional, powerful institution of Ireland.

Destination Anywhere [REPRISE] - Some of the band members, reduced to schlepping around their gear in a old, broken down portable fish 'n chips van (former business of trade: "Mr. Chippy"). Unsuspecting boys approach the truck looking for food. "Got any salmon wraps?" they inquire. The logical retort: "We only got soul (sole)."

Hard To Handle (Otis Redding) - What little bit of success the band has had is starting to go to everyone's heads. Shy Dean Fay, tutored by Joey "The Lips" to play the sax, now fancies himself a jazz hipster and wants to improvise during stage performance. Meanwhile, Jimmy, flush with 200 quid in his pocket from a successful door take, has to use it to pay off loan sharks instead of the group members.

Chain of Fools (Aretha Franklin) - Tempers finally boil over and The Commitments are literally at each others' throats.

Mustang Sally [REPRISE] - Jimmy has lured the band back together with the anticipation of an appearance at the gig by The Wicked One himself: Wilson Pickett. The group is now really polished; Deco riffs like a real soul man, and there are unexpected flourishes by Steven on piano and Joey and Dean on brass.

I Never Loved A Man (The Way I Loved You) (Aretha Franklin) - Natalie takes the mic and sings this The Queen of Soul gem, a code of her unrequited love for Jimmy.

Try A Little Tenderness (Otis Redding) - As The Commitments wait in vain for Pickett to arrive, we see the bi-polar behavior of stage demeanor vs. backstage bickering, culminating with the victory of the dark side: the public humiliation of Jimmy by his own band.

In The Midnight Hour (Wilson Pickett) - The clock figuratively strikes twelve, and even though a record executive has showed up in the audience, all hell finally breaks loose with the band. And Jimmy finally walks away, saying the hell with it all. He'll conduct the post-mortem in his final "interview".

=================================

"The Commitments." Directed by Alan Parker; screenplay by Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais and Roddy Doyle, from the novel by Mr. Doyle; director of photography, Gale Tattersall; edited by Gerry Hambling; production designer, Brian Morris; produced by Roger Randall-Cutler and Lynda Myers; released by 20th Century Fox. Running time: 120 minutes. This film is rated R. Starring: Robert Arkins (Jimmy Rabbitte); Michael Aherne (Steven Clifford); Angeline Ball (Imelda Quirke); Maria Doyle (Natalie Murphy); Dave Finnegan (Mickah Wallace); Bronagh Gallagher (Bernie McGloughlin).

The Lost Instrumentals: Average White Band - "Pick Up The Pieces"

Six lads from Scotland formed a band in 1972, some of them already with minor credits to their name as backup musicians. Comprised of two sax players, a bassist, drummer and a lead and rhythm guitarist, the group caught its break when they backed up Eric Clapton at his "comeback" concert in 1973. The Clapton connection was important for two reasons: first, the guitar god's manager took them under his wing and landed them a contract with Atlantic Records in the US: and second, Clapton musical associate Bonnie Bramlett gave the boys a name: The Average White Band.

AWB released their self-titled Atlantic debut in the summer of 1974 in England. "Pick Up The Pieces" was picked as the lead single, and it promptly died without notice. The album came to US shores in October, and radio stations started to add the single to regular rotation. By February 1975 it hit #1 on the pop charts and #5 on the R&B list.

It remains one of the funkiest grooves ever reduced to vinyl. The guitar intro gives way to a staccato sax duet, powered from behind with a solid bass and drum bottom. The bridge is greeted by the communal shout of "pick up the pieces!" worthy of any Bar-Kays song and then . . . a scorching tenor sax solo by Malcolm "Molly" Duncan.

It really is a four minute, one second piece of musical genius, produced by Atlantic Records mogul Arif Mardin. It is a worthy addition to the legendary Atlantic soul canon.

Soon, AWB would be one of the first white groups appearing on Soul Train. A group of Scottish lads, no less.

Never underestimate the power and reach of American soul music.

The Dictionary of Soul: Janelle Monae

Could this be the hit song of the upcoming summer months? Already?

TNOP might put some money down at the window betting on Janelle Monae's single "Tightrope" to win, place and show.

A Kansas City native, the 25 year old Monae (born Janelle Monae Robinson) trained in musical theater in New York City. Forsaking the formal stage, she moved to Atlanta and was discovered by Outkast's Big Boi (he's featured briefly on the recording of "Tightrope").

And, man, is this young woman a dynamite performer. With James Brown dance moves, powerhouse pipes and a natural ease allowing her to improvise on stage like a seasoned pro, Monae commands rapt attention from the listener/viewer.

Do yourself a BIG favor and click above to watch Janelle Monae tear it up on The Late Show with David Letterman last night.

It also helps that Monae has the marketing muscle of Bad Boy/Atlantic Records behind her. The debut album, The ArchAndroid (Suites II and III of IV), dropped yesterday. The official video to "Tightrope" is a kick too; watch it here.

Fire At TSOP; Studio Spared

Fire struck the location of world famous Philadelphia International Records on Sunday night, the site of a studio that spawned a string of rock and soul gems written and produced by Kenny Gamble & Leon Huff and producer Thom Bell. Initially labelled "suspicious" by fire officials, a local man was charged this evening with arson at the building located at 309 South Broad Street, a stone's throw from The Academy of Music and the Kimmel Center.

In a joint statement, owners Gamble & Huff cited the famous McFadden & Whitehead hit: "Ain't no stoppin' us now. Our space has been violated by someone who chose to set fire to it. But what's most important is that we will build it again and continue to rebuild. Nothing is going to stop us."

Gamble, Huff and Bell took over the venerable brick building in 1970, and the hits were plentiful from a stable of artists that became known collectively as "The Sound of Philadelphia": The Intruders ("Cowboys To Girls"); Billy Paul ("Me & Mrs. Jones"); Jerry Butler ("Only The Strong Survive"); Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes ("If You Don't Know Me By Now"); Joe Simon ("Drowning In The Sea of Love"); Mel & Tim ("Backfield In Motion"); The Three Degrees ("When Will I See You Again"); The Jacksons ("Enjoy Yourself"); MFSB ("TSOP [The Sound of Philadelphia])"; and, perhaps most memorably, The (Mighty! Mighty!) O'Jays ("For The Love Of Money," "Back Stabbers," "992 Arguments," and "Love Train").

The production duo estimates that they lost 40% of their memorabilia that adorned the walls, filled offices and was kept in storage, including gold records, awards and private tape collections of artists like Lou Rawls, Patti LaBelle, Teddy Pendergrass and The Jacksons. "Some of the things we lost in the fire are irreplaceable," said Gamble & Huff. "We will know better in the days ahead what our total losses will be."


Amazingly, the recording studio itself, located on the third floor, was relatively unscathed. Gamble & Huff use the studio to broadcast their Sirius XM radio series. It is also a popular attraction for students and tourists.


Before housing Philly International, the studio was the site where Chubby Checker's "The Twist" and Dee Dee Sharp's "Mashed Potato Time" were cut for the Cameo-Parkway label.


"The No. 1 thing that went through our minds as we walked through the facility is that thankfully, no one was hurt," the statement from Gamble & Huff concluded. "After all the years our building has been there, we've never had any problems that come close to this. The devastation is just horrible. It's unbelievable."


In 1999, four years after being inducted into the National Academy of Songwriters' Hall of Fame, Gamble & Huff were honored by the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences with the Trustees Award for their extensive body of work, both as producer and songwriter, and their contribution to the entire fabric of popular music. In 2008, Gamble & Huff were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. The Rock Hall is currently in the midst of a month long celebration of the Philly Sound.


Well, most of a rock monument was saved, so let's not worry about things we can't control, right? "Enjoy Yourself" instead with The Jacksons from 1976! [Chair dancing in the office allowed.]

The Dictionary of Soul: Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings

Since their last full-length release in 2007, Brooklyn soul collective Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings has hardly faded into the woodwork. In addition to touring, the band has contributed notable work to 2009's Dark Was The Night benefit compilation (a cover of Shuggie Otis' "Inspiration Information") and the soundtrack to the film Up In The Air. Ms. Jones acted in and contributed music to the Denzel Washington helmed The Great Debaters; the versatile Dap-Kings followed their praised backup work on Amy Winehouse's Grammy-winning Back In Black by working with soul legend The Rev. Al Green on 2008's Lay It Down.

On 6 April, the fourth album drops, titled I Learned The Hard Way. Again produced by Bosco Mann and recorded on an old Apex eight-track machine by Gabe Roth at independent Daptone Records, a sneak preview was provided this week: the title track, which to our ears echos the under appreciated Laura Nyro & LaBelle classic Gonna Take A Miracle, produced by Philadephia masters Kenny Gamble & Leon Huff back in 1971. "I Learned The Hard Way" is available via free download or you can listen here:

The Dictionary of Soul: James Jamerson

James Jamerson, pictured above, using "the hook" on his 1962 Fender electric bass, which he famously nicknamed "The Funk Machine."


He has been called the most influential electric bass player in the history of rock and roll by his peers. The most noted comments came in a 1995 interview, when Paul McCartney recalled his training on the instrument, saying "I started listening to other bass players, mainly Motown. As time went on, James Jamerson became my hero . . . because he was so good and melodic." Motown founder Barry Gordy described him as "a genius on the bass . . . an incredible improviser in the studio and somebody I always wanted on my sessions."

James "Igor" Jamerson was the undisputed anchor of the Motown house band known as "The Funk Brothers." With the drummers Benny Benjamin and Uriel Jones, the famously unknown rhythm section played on more number one hits than the Beatles. The Sound of Young America pumped out successful 45s throughout the 1960s with nary a session credit mentioned anywhere on record sleeves or newspaper stories. It took he 1988 book by Alan Slutsky on Jamerson and the subsequent excellent documentary Standing In The Shadows of Motown to bring Jamerson and other Funk Brothers to the forefront. [The story of Jamerson's recording of the bass lines on Marvin Gaye's What's Goin' On is worth a view of the movie alone.]


Jamerson died tragically at the young age of 45 in 1983. He was posthumously elected to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2000. It would have been his birthday today, so let's celebrate his genius by spinning a few of his most endearing performances:


Taken from the rarely seen documentary Save The Children, Marvin Gaye sings 'What's Goin' On" and "What's Happening Brother" in concert from 1973. About 2:30 into the clip, watch for Jamerson and observe his unique index finger bass playing style (known as "the hook").

Now isolate the bass on your stereo and marvel at the bass line Jamerson delivers on Stevie Wonder's smash "I Was Made To Love Her."




And one of the crowning achievements of the Motown catalog: The Four Tops sing "Bernadette" in 1967. Written by Holland-Dozier-Holland. Levi Stubbs on lead vocal. Jamerson scales the heights of the bass matching the driving beat of Benny Benjamin.

The Dictionary of Soul: Teddy Pendergrass

The screaming women called him "Teddy Bear." At the beginning of the 1980s he was a superstar, the sexiest baritone on record. He could be magnetic on stage, but his performances could border on camp. The image of his bearded, rugged features combined with the open shirts and medallions was seemingly everywhere.

Then, in March 1982, Teddy Pendergrass was driving his Rolls Royce when the brakes or electrical system failed and the car careened into a highway divider and a tree, and spinal cord injuries rendered him a quadriplegic. After extensive physical therapy, he would resume his career and even though the loss of breath control effected his voice, many of his new records became hits.

Theodore DeReese Pendergrass Jr. was born in South Carolina and raised in Philadelphia. Influenced at an early age by the gospel and soul music, he dropped out of high school and worked as a drummer in R&B and doo-wop groups. In 1969, he joined Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes, a long-standing local group.

Signed to Philadelphia International Records, the Blue Notes benefited from the production magic of Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff. Pendergrass moved from behind the drum kit to lead vocalist, and the hits started to flow. The duo's distinctive production, a sound emphasizing sweet strings and big beat, was paired with Pendergrass' powerhouse of a voice, and the result was the monster hits "If You Don't Know Me By Now" (1972), "The Love I Lost" (1973), "Bad Luck" and "Wake Up Everybody" (both 1975).

It was reported that Pendergrass and Melvin did not continue to see eye-to-eye, and Pendergrass went off on his own in 1976. His venture as a solo act was an immediate success. Pendergrass had four platinum and two gold albums in the six years before the accident. He was in the same category of sales and popularity as Al Green and Marvin Gaye. But even Pendergrass thought some of the gimmicks used at his shows - for instance, handing out lollipops shaped like teddy bears to female fans - bordered on schmaltz: "As outgoing as I am, I'm still a country boy," he said. "It was complimentary, but it was hard to handle."

Pendergrass' later years were spent not only on music but active philanthropy on behalf of individuals with spinal chord injuries. After a bout with colon cancer, Teddy Pendergrass died on 13 January at the age of 59. He is survived by his wife, a son and two daughters.

His vital contribution to soul and in particular the unique "Sound of Philadelphia" will endure among music enthusiasts. In an interview today with the New York Times, Leon Huff said: "Teddy had that big, booming baritone voice, but he was a tender man. He was very lovable. You could hear it in his music."

FURTHER READING, LISTENING AND VIEWING

Teddy Pendergrass first steps into the spotlight: "If You Don't Know Me By Now" with Harold Melvin and The Blue Notes on Soul Train in 1972.

Listen to the great Philly soul opus "The Love I Lost" by Harold Melvin and The Blue Notes. TNOP still thinks it is the best vocal performance of Pendergrass' career, and a definitive example of the Gamble & Huff production sound.

Reports on the life and death of Teddy Pendergrass:
The Philadelphia Enquirer
The Washington Post (AP video) (story)
The New York Times
The Los Angeles Times
The Times of London

Art Fennell's television interview with Teddy Pendergrass from 2007.

Tribute (In Memoriam): Willie Mitchell

Willie Mitchell, the house producer at Hi Records in Memphis credited with creating the unique soul sounds of Al Green, O. V. Wright and Ann Peebles, among others, died last week at the age of 81.

Born in Ashland, Mississippi, Willie Mitchell (pictured on the right, above, in the studio with Al Green) began his career as a trumpeter in touring bands. After a short stint in the army, he established himself as a bandleader in Memphis in the 1950s. Mitchell would record a number of popular instrumental records on Joe Coughi's Hi Records at Royal Studios, a converted movie theater on Lauderdale Street in Memphis. His band also backed up notable local artists recording at Royal, including Charlie Rich and Bill Black.

After the untimely death of label owner Coughi in 1970, Mitchell ascended to the head man at Hi Records. He would soon begin to make an indelible mark on soul music. Like city rival Stax Records - and Motown to a much larger extent - the secret to the unique sonic landscape created by producer Willie Mitchell was a tight band of studio musicians. "Hi Rhythm" was built around the Hodges Brothers (guitarist "Teenie," bassist Leroy and organist Charles), keyboardist Archie Turner (Mitchell's stepson) and drummer Howard Grimes, the hits started coming: "Take Me To The River" by Syl Johnson; "I Can't Stand The Rain" by Ann Peebles; and "A Nickel and A Nail" by O. V. Wright.

The sound itself was recognizable by a sweet organ, pleading horns and a steady, straightforward beat. When asked about its appeal, Mitchell told author Peter Guralnick: "Its the laziness of the rhythm. You hear those old lazy horns half a beat behind the music, and you think they're gonna miss it, and all of a sudden, just so lazy, they come in and start to sway with it. It's like kind of shucking you, putting you on."

His greatest success as a producer would come with a singer from Michigan who performed on the undercard for Mitchell's band in 1968: Albert Greene. Mitchell invited him to Memphis to record. In 2003, the rechristened Al Green reminisced that he owed much of his career success to Mitchell due to his mentoring in the early years: "I was trying to sing like Jackie Wilson and Sam Cooke and Wilson Pickett. He said, 'Sing like Al Green.'"

The result of their collaboration was a #1 single on the pop charts by 1972 - "Let's Stay Together." Within the next two years, the pair would produce another six singles, all of which sold over a million copies. At a time when the influence of Motown and Stax had seriously waned, the familiar cry in music circles was that Green and Mitchell had "kept soul music alive."

After Green swore off secular music in 1976, Royal Studios stayed busy with Mitchell productions. Artists such as Keith Richards (Talk Is Cheap), Rod Stewart (Atlantic Crossing), Buddy Guy (I Got Dreams) and John Mayer (Continuum) all made records there.

And Al Green would return to make more records with Willie Mitchell. Green, knowing that Mitchell had endured the personal heartbreak of the deaths of his wife and brother from cancer, called his old boss and said "Let's cut some rock 'n roll!" The results were more than solid: I Can't Stop (2003) and Everything's OK (2005).

Next time you are in Memphis, make the pilgrimage not only to the site of Sun Records, Graceland and Stax Records, but to Royal Studios as well. The location is easy to find: it's on Willie Mitchell Boulevard.

FURTHER READING, LISTENING & VIEWING

The Memphis Commercial-Appeal memorializes Willie Mitchell.

Jim Carroll of The Irish Times interviews Al Green back in 2005, while touring and promoting the Mitchell produced Everything's OK.

The one and only Reverend Al Green sings "Let's Stay Together" live back in the day. And "Sha La La (Make Me Happy)" on Soul Train with Hi Rhythm in 1975.

Ann Peebles sings "I Can't Stand The Rain" and co-writer Don Bryant discusses the song's genesis. That's Willie Mitchell in the background as well.

The Dictionary of Soul: Arthur Conley

[Editor's Note: From time to time, The Dictionary of Soul looks at notable figures in the history of soul music, including those whose names have faded into the past.]

Arthur Conley grew up in Atlanta, Georgia, and started out singing gospel at the tender age of 12, when his group was featured on local radio station WAOK. By the time he was 18 years old, he had followed the popular trend away from religious music that had been trail blazed by his hero, Sam Cooke. Conley cut three singles as lead singer in the group Arthur & The Corvets, but despite his strong vocal presence, the songs did not make much of a mark.

His next tried the solo route and a 45 that was released locally in 1964, "I'm A Lonely Stranger" (Ru-Jac Records), caught the ear of Otis Redding. The "Big O" signed Conley to his newly formed Jotis label and re-released the tune, this time recorded at Stax Studios in Memphis and produced by Jim Stewart. "It wasn't a big hit," said Redding, "but it started Arthur on his way." After another false start with the Conley-penned "Who's Foolin' Who," Conley was trucked down by Redding to Muscle Shoals, Alabama to record his next two singles.

"Sweet Soul Music," co-written by Conley and Redding (and based on the melody of mutual hero Sam Cooke's "Yeah Man"), was released on Atlantic Records subsidiary Atco. As Redding later wrote in the liner notes to one of Conley's albums: "The first record I produced on my own was 'Sweet Soul Music.' That's the one that did it. Arthur's fabulous performance on that record turned it into a smash hit. It made Arthur Conley a big name on the soul scene." That's no understatement by a mentor championing his protege. "Sweet Soul Music" is electrifying, a full-throated soul tribute to Lou Rawls (ironically a protege of Cooke's), James Brown, Sam & Dave, Wilson Pickett and (at Conley's insistence) Redding himself. The revue style of the song, replete with a horn chart that drives you out of your seat, would prove perfect on the road and on the radio. It hit #2 on the U.S. pop and R&B charts, as well as the top ten in many European countries.

Word in the music community was that Redding was using Conley as his stalking horse, testing the waters in order to move from his long-time Stax Records home - and a somewhat acrimonious relationship with Jim Stewart - to the mighty Atlantic. Jerry Wexler, the master producer behind so many successful acts (most notably at the time Aretha Franklin), did nothing to dispel such rumors.

Peter Guralnick, in his superb book Sweet Soul Music: Rhythm and Blues and the Southern Dream of Freedom (Little, Brown and Company 1986), opines from his research that "[i]ntrigue aside, Arthur Conley was ready to move in whatever direction Otis pointed. He was not, according to those who knew him, a fully developed personality, either on stage or off. He was 'confused,' says Otis' brother, Rodgers, 'naive,' says Alan Walden, uncertain of his true nature, others suggest. 'Arthur Conley was the invention of Otis Redding,' says Tom Dowd, who was slated to produce Arthur's next album at American with Otis but ended up producing it alone. 'Otis,' says Speedo Simms, Redding's road manager and subsequently Arthur's, 'really kept him in line. He had to pay attention to Otis. He respected Otis. Otis was the one who could make him. He just had the voice.' Otis, for his part, applied all the lessons that he had learned coming up, tried to pass on whatever knowledge he had acquired to his young protege, and perhaps in the process further unsuited him to independence. In the end, for better or for worse, Arthur Conley was a star."

Conley followed up "Sweet Soul Music" with a minor hit, a remake of Big Joe Turner's "Shake, Rattle and Roll." His substantial sales - along with the star pull of Redding - ended up landing him high on the bill of the Stax-Volt Revue tour in Europe in the spring of 1967, despite the fact that Conley wasn't even a Stax recording artist. This led to some grumbling by the others, but the tour was a smashing success. Looking back, how could it have failed? In addition to Redding and Conley, Sam & Dave, The Mar-Keys, Eddie Floyd, Al Bell and Booker T. & The M.G.'s shared the bill!

But the center of Conley's musical life was about to disappear. Otis Redding was killed in a plane crash in December 1967. If you can find it (try LaLa), listen to Conley's stirring - and incredibly personal - tribute to his mentor, "Otis, Sleep On," released early in 1968 on his album Soul Directions. The effort also included the infectious single "Funky Street" but only enjoyed moderate sales.


Although it would prove to be a famous footnote in soul history, Conley fell into his next gig almost by default. Soul titans Solomon Burke ("Just Out of Reach" and "Got To Get You Off Of My Mind"), Joe Tex ("Skinny Legs and All") and Wilson Pickett ("Mustang Sally" and "In The Midnight Hour") hatched an idea with songwriter/performer Don Covay ("Mercy, Mercy" and "See-Saw") to create a type of black Rat Pack in 1966, which presumably was to include Otis Redding. Their goals were adventuresome: demand a million dollar advance from Atlantic to record and perform as a soul supergroup; set up a recording studio in Birmingham; and acquire business and real estate holdings throughout the country. To no one's surprise, egos got in the way, particularly Pickett's. Alas, it wasn't until after Redding's death that the remaining singers entered the studio, along with replacements Ben E. King ("Stand By Me") and Conley.

The collaboration was titled Soul Meeting. The five singers released one single, "Soul Meeting" b/w "That's How It Feels." Written by Covay, the review of the two sides by Guralnick is dead-on: "Covay tailored both sides of the single to the individual talents of each of the participants, and the whole enterprise had a loose, easygoing, improvisational feel which was scarcely affected by the fact that the singers never did get to actually meet in the studio (thus giving the lie to the title of the A side) but instead recorded their vocals separately to a backing track which Covay had put together with Bobby Womack at the Wildwood Studio in Hollywood." Soul Meeting fell flat in sales - Atlantic blamed the lack of original content; Burke blamed the label for tamping down the group's economic aspirations. The album, now again in print from Rhino Atlantic, includes a pair of individual tracks from each the five participants and is highly recommended.

Thereafter, Conley's career yielded a couple of minor soul hits and an ill-advised stint with Capricorn Records from 1971 to 1974. He left for England in 1975 and subsequently spent time in Belgium.

While Wilson Pickett finally joined The Soul Clan in an aborted reunion in 1981, Arthur Conley was in Europe for good. He eventually settled in The Netherlands and did some recording after he legally changed his name to Lee Roberts. He died of cancer on November 17, 2003.

==================================
FURTHER LISTENING AND VIEWING:
Arthur Conley performs "Sweet Soul Music" live in 1967.

Bruce Springsteen gives his take of the song - saluting Sam Cooke - back in July 1988 in Basel, Switzerland; and again, finally finding the right key in November 2009 at Madison Square Garden during one of the "request" portions of last tour.

Ultimate Singles Jukebox [Slot 102]

USE ME
b/w "It's Just A Matter Of Time"
Bill Withers
Sussex/A&M Records 241
Released 1972
Produced by Bill Withers
Written by Bill Withers

By the time William Harrison "Bill" Withers Jr began recording for Sussex Records in 1971, he was already 33 years old. Hailing from a dot on the map called Slab Fork, West Virginia, Withers had already served a nine year hitch in the Navy and worked as an assembler in several different Los Angeles area companies, including Douglas Aircraft Corporation. In 1970, his demo tape was heard by an executive at Sussex and he was offered a record contract.

In 1971, Withers burst on to the music scene with the Booker T. Jones (of Booker T. & The MG's fame) produced album Just As I Am. "Ain't No Sunshine" was the breakout hit, reaching #3 on the Hot 100. It subsequently was awarded the Grammy for Best R&B Song of the Year. "Grandma's Hands," a sweet ode to Withers' own grandmother, also made some noise on the charts.

By 1972, Withers had convinced band members from the Watts 103rd Street Rhythm Band ("Express Yourself") to tour with him: drummer James Gadson, guitarist Benorce Blackmon, keyboardist Ray Jackson and bassist Melvin Dunlap. Along with percussionist Bobbye Hall, this group would be the musical cornerstone for Withers' best studio album: Still Bill, released in the summer of 1972. The biggest hit of Withers' career came from these sessions: "Lean On Me," which shot to #1 the week of July 8, 1972. But a second song from Still Bill, riding one of the funkiest grooves to hit the airwaves, would rise as high as #2 and tag Withers as a man to be reckoned with in a star-studded popular music field of the time (for example, Stevie Wonder was just starting to hit his solo stride at this point).

The Withers penned "Use Me" grabs the listener immediately with an irresistable keyboard hook and syncopated beat. The lyrics are grabbers - we don't particularly know who's done who wrong: "It's true you really do abuse me/You get me in a crowd of high-class people/And then you act real rude to me. . ./I wanna spread the news/That if it feels this good being used/You just keep on using me/Until you've used me up."

For the most part "Use Me" has remained a staple on radio. The band used on Still Bill later recorded a live set at Carnegie Hall that holds up particularly well. Withers eventually left Sussex and signed with Columbia, where he cut four albums. He then concentrated on collaborations with the likes of Grover Washington Jr (scoring the hit "Just The Two Of Us") and The Crusaders. But Withers then faded away from the music scene. In 1988, a ten year old song, "Lovely Day," was remixed and became a hit in the UK. He resurfaced briefly again in 2004, but only as a writer, contributing two tunes to the Jimmy Buffet release "License To Chill."

Bill Withers has not recorded any new music in almost 25 years, despite constant rumors of a lot of unused material and invitations from some of the more note-worthy producers in the business to collaborate. A documentary, also entitled Still Bill, was produced and screened in limited release this past summer. A DVD release date has yet to be announced.

Be sure to check out this video of Bill Withers and his band performing (at a slightly slower tempo) "Use Me," probably taken from English television's The Old Grey Whistle Stop back in 1972. The guitar work of Benorce Blackmon is particularly enthralling.

Ultimate Singles Jukebox [Slot 101]

RESPECT
b/w "Dr. Feelgood"
Aretha Franklin
Atlantic Records, 1967
Produced by Jerry Wexler & Arif Mardin
Written by Otis Redding


Before she was rightly dubbed "The Queen of Soul," Aretha Franklin more than paid her dues in the musical trenches. The daughter of a popular preacher in Detroit, Michigan, Franklin first came to the gospel forefront when she was 14 years old, singing in her father's church. It was through the Detroit Baptist choir that Aretha came into contact with the greatest gospel singers of the day: Mahalia Jackson, R. H. Harris and Marion Williams. But there were two gospel kingpins that influenced her the most: Sam Cooke and Clara Ward. Much like Dylan breaking from the folk scene, Cooke had busted loose from religious music, blazing a trail of commercial success and triumphing in the secular music world, a feat Franklin would one day realize herself. And while Clara Ward never "crossed over," Aretha modeled her pinpoint style in the recording studio to make records so pristine that they defied the "gut bucket" imprint of Atlantic Records and sounded more like they were produced at Motown over on West Grand Boulevard in native city.

Franklin had toiled away at Columbia Records for six years without making much of a splash in the popular music scene. But Ahmet Ertegun of Atlantic saw something different in her and put Aretha in the hands of now legendary producer Jerry Wexler, a man who had worked with Ray Charles, Big Joe Turner and Otis Redding and was a major reason that R&B had came to the forefront of American popular music. So what was his idea for recording this woman with the towering voice but no hits? Put her in a studio in late 1966, originally in Muscle Shoals, Alabama with a band of mostly white musicians who had already played some of the hardest rocking soul hits of the day. They would be eventually transported to New York City to record one of the most seminal recordings in popular music history.

The song in question was written by Redding and originally released as a 45 over a year earlier on August 15, 1965 (Volt 128). Listening to the single now, it is a dynamic performance punctuated by the pleading insistence of the Memphis Horns and the unforgettable rhythm bottom of Al Jackson on drums and Donald "Duck" Dunn on bass. Like most records by Redding, the feeling transferred to the listener is deeply emotional. It was a decent hit for Otis, rising as high as #4 on the R&B chart and #15 in the Hot 100.

But then, in a quote attributed to Redding in a conversation with Wexler, "that little girl done stole my song." According to Dave Marsh in The Heart of Rock & Soul, Aretha and her sister Carolyn apparently were fiddling with "Respect" in the studio when they "began pulling threads of tempo and phrasing together in a way that suggested putting them on tape." One of the most important differences in Aretha's version is the presence of a bridge; in Otis' original there is none. Speculation is that Franklin and Wexler lifted their idea for that portion of the song from Sam & Dave's "When Something Is Wrong With My Baby."

Observers say there have been few more precise tacticians in the recording studio than Aretha Franklin. She did not waste takes; rather, she came in the studio having done her homework. "Respect" is one of those examples that perfectly corrals Aretha's powerful voice, criticized by some for being too over-the-map in a concert setting. (For what it's worth, I think this complaint is overblown; it just shines the spotlight on how great so many of her records were, especially those under Wexler's tutelage.)

One of the session men on "Respect," Charlie Chalmers (one of the saxophonists), recently provided an eye-witness account of the session recording environment:

NEIL CONAN: Well, set the scene for us. The record was recorded Valentine's Day, 1967.

Mr. CHALMERS: Yes. And we recorded that at Atlantic recording studio in New York. And we were in the middle of finishing up an album on Aretha, and that was one of the songs in it of course. And it was a history in the making no doubt.

CONAN: And when it was being made, did people look around at each other and say, oh, my gosh, this is important.

Mr. CHALMERS: Yes. After the record was finished, which are about five minutes on the playback after we recorded it, because back then, we recorded everything, just about everything live, because the technology was not what it is today. And so, one of the second thing that was done after the track and the vocal was done, which Aretha sang and played piano, at the same time, did her main vocal right on the spot with the rhythm section and the horns. Those were not over dubbed. And - but she and her sister, Carol, did the back-up vocals right after the record was complete. And that afternoon, everyone was just really freaking out over what a groove it was. And it was just a natural. There was no doubt about that.

"Respect" hits you immediately in the solar plexus. Every time. Even after 40 years. A crack horn section of Floyd Newman, Chalmers, Wayne Jackson and the incomparable King Curtis provide the intro with Chips Moman's guitar. Aretha enters: this is no longer the plaintive coaxing of Otis' lyrics. This woman singing is insistent that she definitely has what the man wants and demands proper respect in return. One of the revelations on close listening is the underlying driving piano of Franklin herself, a vastly underrated musician in this regard. The call and answer, gospel style, between the lead and the background singers demands that the listener PAY ATTENTION. As Marsh astutely observed, "there's not a 'Hey Baby!' or 'Mis-tuh' that's accidental." As if this filling the air weren't thrilling enough, smack in the middle comes one of the most sublime sax solos ever recorded by King Curtis. It deservedly hit #1 on both the R&B and Pop charts in 1967.

Some say it is the most perfect 2 minutes and 26 seconds ever transferred to wax, and The Night Owl finds it hard to refute that opinion. "Respect" belongs on the Mount Rushmore of popular music and rightfully takes its place in the poll position of our Ultimate Singles Jukebox.

Other links:
Aretha performs "Respect" live in 1967
The New York Times review of Jerry Wexler's memoir (1993)