Showing posts with label blues. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blues. Show all posts

Sunday, August 19, 2018

In Memoriam: Aretha Franklin 1942-2018




"I sing to the realists; people who accept it like it is."


 Though she was born in Memphis, Tennessee, Aretha grew up in Detroit, Michigan.


Now, I'm sure you associate Detroit largely with the automobile industry, but as far as I know Studebaker, De Sotos, and certainly not Edsels had any affect on Aretha's formative years, but the above building, home of the New Bethal Baptist Church, most certainly did.


For it was here that Aretha's minister father, C.L. Franklin preached the Gospel:


When Franklin wasn't talking, he was singing:



Whether you're a true believer or not, you have to admit that a strong pair of vocal chords ran in that family. In fact, Rev. Franklin was known in ecclesiastic circles as The Man with The Million Dollar Voice.


Not just in Detroit, either, once a pioneering local black record producer and record store owner named Joe Von Battle put the Baptist preacher's sermons and gospel singing on vinyl. C.L. Franklin became a nationally-known figure, a star even, at least in the world of the black church.


Daughter Aretha wasn't forgotten about. While in her teens, she began singing with her father in church, and as his fame grew, began touring with him as well.


Franklin convinced the aforementioned Battle to record his daughter. In 1956, when Aretha was just 14, she came out with her first album Songs of Faith.



Around this time, Aretha met a young gospel singer named Sam Cooke who was about to make the jump into the pop mainstream. Impressed by his subsequent success, Aretha admitted to her father that she, too, would like record something a little bit more secular. If this was an R+B gender-changed version of The Jazz Singer, I suppose you'd expect him condemn her to fire and brimstone at this point, but fortunately, it's real life. Her reverend pop not only understood, but helped produce her two-song demo.



It didn't take long for a major label to sign her.



 John H. Hammond, whose many musical discoveries included Billie Holiday and Count Basie, produced Aretha's...



 ...first album, which also included...



 ...her first single.





Released in 1960, it reached #10 on the R+B chart.



Nevertheless, in her six years at Columbia, Aretha successes were sporadic, and in 1966...

  

...she decided to sign with another label. 

Though headquartered in New York City, Atlantic had their new artist record not there...


...but to a place further south, in Alabama.



FAME studios, where Aretha worked with music journalist-turned music producer...





...Jerry Wexler. Back in early 1950s when he was still writing for Billboard, Wexler had coined the term "rhythm and blues". There's no evidence he also coined the term "soul music", but the white, Jewish,  middle-aged Atlantic executive was one of the form's chief proponents.



But what was soul exactly? Since the 1970s (and due largely to the efforts of one Don Cornelius) it's been an umbrella term for African-American music in general. But back in the '60s, the meaning was more specific, the music was more specific. It had something to do with the blues, but was much more melodic, not just one note endlessly repeated. On the more rousing songs, you could clap and stomp your feet. Not just the audience, but the PERFORMERS sometime did this. Actually, you might mistake the audience as part of the performance, as there seem to be a bit of shouting going back and forth from the stage to the seats and the seats to the stage. Perhaps to really understand it, you have to look at Aretha's problems at Columbia. She being black, the label  pushed her into singing jazzy pop numbers, because jazz is, you know, what black people were known for. (Marian Anderson, Paul Robeson, and Leontyne Price might have had some other ideas.) And Aretha was a pretty good  jazz/pop singer, but it's not what she was raised on. Nor was, for that matter, Ray Charles, who wasted a lot of his early career trying to sound like Nat King Cole. Many, many black artists, such as James Brown and Otis Redding, had learned how to sing in church. Sure, they may have wanted to do something less religious (and more lucrative) once they got a chance to do so, but did that really require a total retreat from their main musical training ground? The artists and producers operating out of Muscle Shoals, as well as those at Stax Records in Memphis, didn't think so. It's an oversimplification, but soul to a large extant is a secular form of African-American gospel. The emotion, the drama, the full-throated singing, the clapping, foot stomping, and if there's an audience present, the urge to call out to them expecting some sort of response. (Want to turn a gospel song into a soul song? Replace Jesus with a more earthbound lover, and Satan with a earthbound FORMER love who done you wrong. If it's a song of repentance, instead of dropping to your knees and asking the Lord for forgiveness, you promise that woman of yours that you'll no longer step out at night.) And it was just this secular gospel...





 ...that would transform Aretha Franklin's career.


 Ironically, Aretha spent but a single day in Muscle Shoals. While she looks very happy in the above picture with a group of SPACE session singers, apparently her then-husband Ted White and studio owner Rick Hall got into an argument, and the session was abandoned, but Aretha was there just long enough to record..






...what up to then was the biggest hit of her career, peaking at #9 on the pop charts.



Aretha  would spend the rest of the 1960s recording up north, but she never forgot what she learned in Muscle Shoals, calling it "the turning point in my career."


 
I mentioned Otis Redding earlier. Today he's best known for  "(Sittin' On) The Dock of the Bay" which had hit the charts after he had already died in a plane crash. But when he was still alive, he had had a bit of success with a crossover hit that had peaked at #35 on the pop charts. But another version of the same song was going to go much higher than that.

 


Redding's feminist anthem--well, it might not have been a feminist anthem when HE sang it--reached #1 and became her signature song.

More hits followed:








Soon, Aretha didn't just sing soul...



 ...she owned it.



The daughter of a famous black preacher meets one even more famous.



She sang at his funeral.

More hits followed in the 1970s:







 

 Even when the hits stopped coming about midway through the decade, Aretha kept busy.
 

A return to her roots.



Aretha meets Jake and Elwood.


Aretha's father, meanwhile, continued to preach, and though obviously not the household name his daughter was, was still very popular in the black church. 






 On June 10, 1979, Rev. Franklin was shot twice by burglars at his Detroit home. He had been armed with a gun himself, had fired, but failed to hit anyone. He spent the next five years in a semi-coma. Upon his death, the crime became a homicide. Four men and two women were evenutally charged and found guilty ofr their participation in the crime. His four-hour funural was attended by 10,000 people. Rev. Jesse Jackson delivered the eulogy.  




  Nothing can replace the death of a parent, but things were otherwise looking up by 1985, Aretha, now at Arista, had her first Platinum-certified album, which included...





...this hit single.


That same year she got together with the Eurythmics...






...and put out this hit.






Aretha in the 1990s.


 Aretha sings at the inauguration of the first African-American president.


It's not the branch of Christianity she was raised in, but Aretha sang for Pope Francis in 2015.



In 2016, Linwood Boulevard, where the New Bethel Baptist Church is located, was changed to C.L. Franklin Boulevard.



 Aretha singing at that very place her father preached.


 RIP, the Queen of Soul.









Saturday, December 27, 2014

In Memoriam: Joe Cocker 1944-2014

Rock and blues singer.



"It's all a matter of hearing what I like and seeing if I can make it fit into my style."

"...my arm movements? I actually saw myself with Eric Clapton – you know you see all your old stuff on YouTube now – and I was horrified at myself, with my arms just flailing around. I guess that came with my frustration at never having played piano or guitar. If you see me nowadays I'm not quite so animated, but it's just a way of trying to get feeling out – I get excited and it all comes through my body."


The son of a civil servant, Cocker grew up in Crookes, a suburb of Sheffield, in the county of Yorkshire, in the country of England. 


In his teens, Cocker was a huge fan of Ray Charles, who played the piano, but not the guitar. Whether he was frustrated about the latter, I can't say.


Judging by this picture, I'd say Cocker at least flirted with the idea of becoming a drummer. That's him at about 16, seated in front of his first band The Cavaliers. For their first gig at a local youth club, they actually had to pay the price of admission.


The Cavaliers broke up after a year, after which an American basketball team appropriated the name (sorry, couldn't resist a Cleveland reference.) Cocker took on an alias and formed a new group, Vance Edwards and the Avengers, once appearing on the same bill with another blues-based rock 'n' roll band, the Rolling Stones. In 1964, Cocker recorded a sole single, a cover of the Beatles "I'll Cry Again".


Despite Cocker's own efforts to boost sales by buying a copy himself, the single didn't go anywhere. 


However, Cocker wasn't quite through with the Beatles yet.


After another short-lived band The Joe Cocker Blues, Cocker formed, and then re-formed The Grease Band as a backup band. Together they had the above major hit in 1968, by which time Cocker had abandoned the pompadour. 

"He [Cocker] was a lovely northern lad who I loved a lot and, like many people, I loved his singing. I was especially pleased when he decided to cover "With a Little Help From My Friends" and I remember him and (producer) Denny Cordell coming round to the studio in Savile Row and playing me what they'd recorded and it was just mind-blowing, totally turned the song into a soul anthem, and I was and I was forever grateful to him for doing that."

--Paul McCartney


Playing air guitar at Woodstock.

 "...like an eclipse ... it was a very special day."


I can never be sure how long these videos will stay on one of my posts since I'm at the mercy of YouTube here, but in case this one is snatched before you get a chance to see it, I can assure you Joe did NOT sing out of key.



Playwright, songwriter, actor, and all-around witty guy Noel Coward, shown here in the 1930s. Among his more amusing compositions was a little ditty called "Mad Dogs and Englishmen". Little did he know that nearly 40 years later...



...Joe Cocker would appropriate it as the name of a live album and, informally, a group of some 30 musicians, most notably Leon Russell and, as a backup singer, Rita Coolidge, that he went on tour with in 1970. Coward was still alive at the time. As far as I know he never complained (assuming he even knew about it in the first place.)



Maybe Coward saw the movie.




Among the songs on Mad Dogs and Englishmen was a cover of The Box Tops "The Letter", a Top 10 hit. 




In 1974, Cocker had this monster hit. And whoever he had in mind while singing it probably got one helluva ego boost.



Cocker and Belushi on Saturday Night Live.



Richard Gere got the girl (Debra Winger, as if you didn't know) at the end of the 1982 film An Officer and a Gentleman.




In his own way, Cocker got the girl, too--in this case, Jennifer Warnes. OK, this relationship was platonic, but it did yield the Number 1 hit from the soundtrack of that movie "Up Where We Belong".

If there's anything to that Heaven stuff, Joe Cocker is right now up where he belongs.