Required Reading From Suzanne Vega

Suzanne Vega has a wonderful piece in today's New York Times about the genesis and subsequent life of her song "Tom's Diner." It encompasses over a quarter century, and touches on everything from remixing, Jerry Seinfeld and the birth of the MP3. Great stuff.

Kings Of Leon Underwhelm

The first time I ever saw the Kings of Leon, I was excited to see them. I was in a hotel room with the band, their lawyer and someone else working with them as they showcased for several record labels on their acoustic guitars. I was with a co-worker of mine from Island, and when we were told that the father of three of the band members was a Pentecostal preacher, I couldn’t wait to hear them play – after all, some of the greatest rock n’ soul has come from artists with intense religious upbringings who instead began to play the Devil’s music.

The band played three or four songs, and while I liked Caleb’s Followill’s voice and was struck by the band’s looks, I wasn’t sufficiently excited to want to sign them. Because of their religious background, I was expecting to hear something more fiery and soulful – but instead, the band played up their cool. Southern Strokes, indeed.

I’ve been generally indifferent to their albums since then, finding them rather slight, with few, if any, truly great songs. Their performances I’ve seen have been decent-to-good, but the amount of incredible press they’ve garnered has been to me. Maybe it’s because they’re great looking.

When I heard “Sex on Fire” on the radio about a month ago, I liked it a lot – much to my pleasant surprise - and thought it boded it well for their new album. But in listening to their new album, Only By The Night, I am once again underwhelmed. Yes, the vibe is cool – they’ve moved to a slightly bigger sound, seemingly influenced by both U2 and Radiohead – but these songs just aren’t remarkable. “Use Somebody” has a sweetly anthemic vibe circa The Unforgettable Fire, but this music is insular – it captures the emotions of the morning after a night of partying and pretty girls – not terribly interesting. It’s not a particularly bad album; it’s just not one that delivers on anything that has been claimed for them. Maybe it’s time for them explore the Pentecostal fire of their childhoods. That might be something.

Bootleg Friday (On A Monday): Randy Newman, 1972

America gets really weird during presidential elections. So I can’t think of anyone better to restart Bootleg Friday (on a Monday) then one of the greatest chroniclers of American contradiction and irony, Randy Newman.

This performance hails from Paul’s Mall in Boston show in 1972, supporting his epochal Sail Away album. His gift here is in full flower, as well as his incredible sense of humor. Equally influenced by Stephen Foster, George Gershwin and Fats Domino, Newman’s incisive, literary and moving songs have been recorded by artists as varied as the O’Jays, Wilson Pickett, Ray Charles, Nina Simone, the Everly Brothers, and yes, Pat Boone. This is Newman as his career was on an upward arc – when it seemed as though commercial success was in his grasp. That would happen five years later, with the almost accidental hit, “Short People,” a joke that caused an uproar.

Newman has had huge success as a songwriter for films, scoring dozens of movies, including several Pixar films. He's currently touring behind his new album, Harps and Angels.

Download: "Lover's Prayer" 8/24/72, Boston, MA
Download: "Lucinda" 8/24/72, Boston, MA
Download: "You Can Leave Your Hat On" 8/24/72, Boston, MA
Download: "Last Night I Had A Dream" 8/24/72, Boston, MA
Download: "Ballad Of Pat O'Reilly/Sail Away" 8/24/72, Boston, MA
Download: "Lonely At The Top" 8/24/72, Boston, MA
Download: "Love Story (You and Me)" 8/24/72, Boston, MA

Earl Palmer

The sound of Earl Palmer playing the drums was one of power, groove and swing. The legendary New Orleans drummer who propelled early rock n' roll hits by Fats Domino and then Little Richard, died on Friday at the age of 84. Moving to Los Angeles in the late 50's to escape the racism of the Jim Crow south, Palmer played with artists as varied as Count Basie, Frank Sinatra, Neil Young, the Righteous Brothers, Barbra Streisand, the Beach Boys, Sarah Vaughan, Elvis Costello, Ike and Tina Turner and many more.

Remember that great fill that opens the Flintstones theme song? That's Earl Palmer.

Obituary from the New Orleans Times Picayune

Saadiq's Love Letter To Motown

Raphael Saadiq’s new album, The Way I See It, is a love letter to Motown circa 1964-1966, and it’s a delight. From the infectious “Sure Hope You Mean It,” to the gorgeous “Staying In Love,” this is music made by an artist that’s using the soul revival not to jump on a bandwagon, but as an access to make the music he really loves. There’s no new ground broken here, but who cares, when it’s done this well. Where the Dap-Kings retro-soul occasionally feels academic, The Way I See It simply shines, especially on further listens. Recommended.


Download Raphael Saadiq's The Way I See It at the Amazon MP3 store

Springsteen Does Whitfield, 1975

Playing Detroit for the first time in October of 1975, on the Born To Run tour, Springsteen did an incredible, one off version of the Norman Whitfield written, Temptations classic, "Ain't Too Proud To Beg," as a duet with "Miami" Steve Van Zandt. It's incredible, and it shreds the Stones version that came out on It's Only Rock N' Roll in 1974. Crank this one up!

Download: Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band - "Ain't Too Proud To Beg" 10/4/75, Detroit, MI

Norman Whitfield: 1940-2008

"I Heard It Through The Grapevine." "Aint Too Proud To Beg." "I Wish It Would Rain." "Papa Was A Rolling Stone." "Beauty Is Only Skin Deep." "Just My Imagination (Running Away With Me)."

Those are just a handful of songs written by the great Norman Whitfield, who died today at the age of 68. Whitfield was a Motown songwriter, producer and arranger, and after Holland-Dozier-Holland left Motown in 1967, he became one of the first tier songwriters in the Motown stable. His greatest collaborations were with the Temptations, for whom he took over songwriting and production duties in 1966. And starting with the Tempts, "Cloud Nine," in 1968, Whitfield dragged Motown into the psychedelic era, paving the way for the later triumphs of Marvin Gaye's What's Going On.

One of the greatest songwriters in any generation.

Number 60 With A Bullet

According to the U.K.'s Dolphin Music, I'm the 60th Top Music Related Blog in the world. Cool!

Ukelele (#59) - you're dead.

The Opposite Of Soul

I haven’t had TV for a month, so I’ve been feeding my politics fix online, watching the "highlights" from the Republican convention online. What’s struck me isn’t the gleeful and mean spirited condescension of Rudy Giuliani, the empty insanity of Mitt Romney, John McCain’s retrogressive vision, or even Sarah Palin’s utter self-assuredness in the face of her lack of knowledge about most issues.

What’s amazing to me watching the Republican ticket (and eight years of George W. Bush) is that these are people that believe themselves to be free of doubt - utterly convinced of the rightness and even the providence of their worldview – which justifies any means they might employ to retain power. And it is their projection of that quality - being doubtless - which has them continue to be so attractive to millions of Americans – even after reality has long since intruded upon their assumptions and left disaster in the wake of their policies.

Of course, being doubtless is a pretense. To be human is to doubt. Our greatest leaders have been strong enough to commune with their doubt before making crucial decisions - and then are resolute in the execution of those decisions. (Lincoln during the Civil War and Kennedy during the Cuban Missile Crisis come to mind.)

In soul music, doubt suffuses everything, even affirmation. When you listen to “A Change Is Gonna Come,” you can hear the sadness in Sam Cooke’s voice, the doubt that anything can possibly change amidst his assurance that it will. Otis Redding’s “Ole Man Trouble,” proclaims, “I live my life in doubt,” and in the willingness to be authentic with his own humanity, his voice gains immeasurable power. Soul may be filled with some of the greatest braggadocio known to music, but doubt is the utterly necessary flipside – and it’s one the reasons why the music still matters, for its humanity remains authentically full and resonant.

Watching the Republican conventioneers gleefully scream, “Drill Baby Drill,” in lockstep with Sarah Palin, I found myself struggling for words to describe what I saw and heard. Willful ignorance? Possibly. Stubborn pride? Sure. Then I got it:

It’s the opposite of soul.

AC/DC Is Coming

I was suffering through the new Bloc Party album a few minutes ago when a friend emailed me AC/DC's new tour dates. Now I'm grinning - a night of no bullshit rock n' roll is coming. Their new single, "Rock N' Roll Train," sounds great - and I'm hearing great stuff about their upcoming Brendan O'Brien produced album. They rule.

And I'm thrilled that I'll be seeing them with their original drummer, Phil Rudd. Last time I saw them, they played with Chris Slade, who wasn't happening. As my friend John says, "Chris plays in front of the beat, Phil plays behind it." It makes all the difference. Well, that and the cannons at the end of "For Those About To Rock."

AC/DC announces North American tour dates

By Mitchell Peters
Thu Sep 11, 3:20 AM ET

Anglo-Australian rockers AC/DC will launch its world tour on October 28 at the Wachovia Center in Wilkes-Barre, Pa.

The 24-date North American leg of the arena jaunt is scheduled to wrap December 18 at the Time Warner Cable Arena in Charlotte, N.C.

The worldwide trek follows closely behind the October 20 release of "Black Ice," the band's first album in eight years, which will be sold exclusively in Wal-Mart and Sam's Club stores as well as at ACDC.com (http://www.acdc.com). The first single, "Rock'n'Roll Train," rocketed 10 places to No. 5 on Billboard's latest Mainstream Rock chart.

Tickets for the North American dates will go on sale during the weekend of September 20 via Ticketmaster and ACDC.com. Specific on-sale dates and ticket prices have not yet been announced.

Following the North American run, AC/DC will visit South American, Europe and Asia, with dates to be announced. The Black Ice World Tour will be AC/DC's first outing since 2001.

Here are AC/DC's North American tour dates:

October 28: Wilkes-Barre, Pa. (Wachovia Arena)

October 30: Chicago (Allstate Arena)

November 3: Indianapolis (Conseco Fieldhouse)

November 5: Auburn Hills, Mich. (Palace of Auburn Hills)

November 7: Toronto (Rogers Centre)

November 9: Boston (TD Banknorth Garden)

November 12-13: New York (Madison Square Garden)

November 15: Washington, D.C. (Verizon Center)

November 17: Philadelphia (Wachovia Center)

November 19: East Rutherford, N.J. (IZOD Center)

November 21: Columbus, Ohio (Schottenstein Center)

November 23: Minneapolis (Xcel Energy Center)

November 25: Denver (Pepsi Center)

November 28: Vancouver (General Motors Place)

November 29: Seattle (KeyArena)

November 30: Tacoma, Wash. (Tacoma Dome)

December 2: Oakland, Calif. (Oracle Arena)

December 6: Los Angeles (The Forum)

December 10: Phoenix (US Airways Center)

December 12: San Antonio (AT&T Center)

December 14: Houston (Toyota Center)

December 16: Atlanta (Philips Arena)

December 18: Charlotte, N.C. (Time Warner Cable Arena)

King And Queen

Thoughts On Niches and the Long Tail

Nowadays, it’s taken for granted that we live in an era of “niche.” We have several-hundred cable channels, YouTube, websites to appeal to anyone’s deepest interests and literally an infinite amount of entertainment and information options at our disposal. And we are told that reaching a broad audience is now just about impossible. It’s all part of the Chris Anderson’s “Long Tail” thesis; in the future, entertainment products will sell less of more – meaning that there will be fewer blockbusters but more things will sell over time – and it’s been taken for granted, especially by techies, to be true. (Not all of them.)

But is this theory true and does it effect how art is made? Once upon a time, popular art was designed to be, well, popular. Up until the late 70’s, movies and music, even if substantive and complex, were intended to reach as broad an audience as possible. From the 30’s to the 60’s, the biggest Hollywood films were written to reach everyone. In popular music, be it rock or r&b, just about everything was made with a mass audience in mind. Even the godfathers of punk – the Velvet Underground, Iggy and the Stooges and the MC5 - had designs to hit the top. Back then, it was the only game in town.

In left-of center rock, that hasn’t been the case for almost three decades. The failure of 70’s punk to break commercially in the U.S. spawned a self-sustaining alternative music economy where music from the fringe could emerge and thrive, which obviated the need to try to please the mainstream. And in the face of the failure of punk to reach a broad audience, an attitude emerged from the punk and post-punk world that just about any commercial music was to be looked upon with suspicion at best, and utter and complete derision at worst. (That was an attitude fostered in self-defense; the Ramones were devastated when they realized they weren’t going to be an enormous band.) In the post-punk world, just like the folk world of the early 60’s, selling a lot of anything usually inspires cries of “selling out.” (The history of jazz post be-bop is similar – the avant-garde took over the vanguard of the music, its popularity declined, and it ceased to be truly popular music.)

In the R&B world it is, of course, different. In the R&B and Hip-Hop game, you’re either huge, or you haven’t made it. (There are a few exceptions to this – but the alternative hip-hop scene has no real cache in the urban areas where the music comes from.) Dr. Dre and Jay Z brag about being great businessmen. (No revered indie-rocker would ever call himself a businessman.) Black music is still a blockbuster game, no matter what anyone says. While it is true that those blockbusters sell less than they used to, there's no popular black music scene that exists powerfully on the margins the way indie rock does in the rock world. (There's no Pitchfork for black music.) Big hits are venerated in black music. One can't say that about Radiohead or Wilco.

So in the black music game, the Long Tail has no real resonance, but in the world of indie rock and post punk, it does. Why is that? I would assert that it’s because due primarily to cultural differences – i.e., attitudes about the worthiness of the pursuit of popular and mass success, money and rebellion, rather than a fundamental truth about how technology is affecting our consumption of media. The Long Tail is a theory that exists in theory, not reality, and in the veneration of the theory, it has accumulated resonance, and people have begun to work within its confines. So instead of believing that they can reach a big and broad audience, artists who work within the limited vision that they see as possible and "appropriate" for their music. For years, I've seen many talented left-leaning rock artists making insular music designed to reach a narrow audience. And as a result, they make insular and small music with little lasting resonance. And this had been happening way before records stopped selling.

In June, I attended a conference at the Advertising Age convention in New York. At one of the panels I attended, the panelists touted the fashionable wisdom that the “Grateful Dead Model” (where you give your music away and make your money touring) was the way for artists to go. A nice theory, but it ignored the fact that the Dead only made more money on the road because on their best nights, they were transcendent live, and they were pretty crappy record makers. (It also ignored the fact that they never really gave their music away, but that’s another matter.) Not to slag them (they were all smart guys), but I bet they couldn’t name ten Grateful Dead songs between the five of them.

I only bring up the point to remind music lovers that most tech people who come up with these theories don’t really know much about music or art. They see the world through the prism of their world – technology. All the theories in the world about technology and its interaction music can be made irrelevant by one epochal song. Here’s hoping that song comes soon. Niches may be a fact of life, but it is the role of great create art to tear up and expose as folly assumed truths about what’s possible - in both music and in life. And it's fun when great stuff is popular, too.

Marching Band - "Make Up Artist"

A friend recently turned me on to Marching Band, an indie-pop duo from Sweden, whose album, Spark Large, is one of the most consistently enjoyable albums I've heard all year, filled with great melodies, strong songs and a really warm and accessible heart. I'm not going as far as to call it soulful, but there's a spark here.

Otis Redding, 1967

"I've Been Loving You Too Long" from Monterey, 1967. It's still stunning.

Some Reflections On Yankee Stadium

Music has been and remains an obsessive love in my life. But before music, there was baseball. Specifically, my obsession was the New York Yankees. I’ve been a Yankee fan for over thirty years, and last week, walking into Yankee Stadium for what I believe will be the last time, I couldn’t help but reflect a little on a place that has been one of the constants of my life.

I went to my first game in June of 1977. I was six years old and had just moved to New Jersey from Connecticut with my Dad in April. My Mom had had died in March and between that and starting a new school, I was in a very quiet state of shock. Baseball was my one love that kept me tethered to something else besides all the sadness I was experiencing. I had been a huge baseball fan before, but at some point that spring, I invested my rather intense emotions into a team – and for whatever reason (I think it was because I loved their uniforms more than the Mets), I chose the Yankees.

Each morning that spring and summer, I would run downstairs and grab the New York Times sports section to see how they did the previous day. If they won, I was thrilled. If they lost, I was crushed, even to the point of tears. I took it all like a matter of life and death. The Yankees made for great drama that year – it was Bronx Zoo turmoil just about every day, with characters like Reggie Jackson (who I loved), Billy Martin (who I couldn’t stand), Thurman Munson (who I adored so much I named the scar I had recently gotten after him), Sparky Lyle, Graig Nettles and more – and they were competing furiously for first place with both the Baltimore Orioles and Boston Red Sox, who my father, being from Boston, rooted for.



So sometime in June of ‘77, my Dad and I trekked in from New Jersey to see my heroes play the Minnesota Twins. What I remember most from the day is walking out of the tunnel and seeing, for the first time, that enormous expanse of green field. It seemed like it went on forever - the biggest thing I had ever seen in my life. I was in awe. It was one of the most beautiful places I had ever seen and the players seemed like Gods. I was utterly enraptured with the place. Do I remember the game? No. I do remember that the Yankees won, so I went home happy.

That was the beginning of a thirty-one year relationship for me with Yankee Stadium. I’ve seen some incredible games there; Old Timer’s Day 1978, where a recently fired Billy Martin was brought back to a standing ovation, and an announcement that he’d be managing the Yankees in 1980 (I was devastated and the crowd was thrilled – one of my first experiences in being completely at odds with the crowd, not to be the last); a thrilling September 1978 game against the Red Sox, with Ron Guidry pitching a two hit shutout and the Yankees winning 4-0 (I was cheering and my Dad was cursing in the seat next to me); Game 2 of the Divisional Series against the Mariners in 1995; Aaron Boone’s pennant-winning homerun against the Red Sox in Game 7 of the 2003 ALCS. I’ve been lucky to see some incredible games and amazing ballplayers. It’s a privilege to witness greatness, no matter what the medium.

But walking into the Stadium last week, I felt no great sense of sadness, or even nostalgia. It’s a ballpark, not holy ground (despite what anyone says), and to be honest, they screwed up the place when they renovated it in the mid-70’s. (The original Yankee Stadium - now THAT was grand.) But most of all, I realized that I’m not a kid anymore, and that while I still love baseball (and the Yankees), it is, after all, just a game.

Next year, there will be a new Yankee Stadium, modern, with all of the amenities, and tickets will be outrageously expensive. I look forward to going. But it’s not life or death anymore. I guess that’s growin’ up.

Stanley Booth on Jerry Wexler

Stanley Booth, the wonderful Memphis born and raised writer who chronicled the Rolling Stones in the late 60's and early 70's has a beautiful piece on Jerry Wexler in Newsweek. Read it.

Dear Madonna, This Is Dumb

In my neighborhood, there are a lot of people who feel compelled to communicate their left of center political views on either the doors of their apartments or their cars. I’m aligned politically with most of their sentiments, but their expressions are so heavy handed, simplistic and insufferable that I’m usually left irritated and wanting to slap some McCain stickers on their doors.

Such is the case with Madonna this week. I’ve liked some of her music a lot over the years (she’s a tremendous singles artist) and have a lot of respect for her. She works her ass off. But when I read the following, my respect begins to drain:





AP:

As Madonna kicked off her international “Sticky and Sweet” tour Saturday night, she took a none-too subtle swipe at the presumptive Republican nominee for U.S. president.

Amid a four-act show at Cardiff’s packed Millennium Stadium, a video interlude carried images of destruction, global warming, Nazi dictator Adolf Hitler, Zimbabwe’s authoritarian President Robert Mugabe _ and U.S. Senator John McCain. Another sequence, shown later, pictured slain Beatle John Lennon, followed by climate activist Al Gore, Mahatma Gandhi and finally McCain’s Democratic rival Barack Obama.

Dumb. Really fucking dumb. I’m supporting Barack Obama for president, too. But this simplistic, puerile and nauseating associative tactic is stupid beyond measure. John McCain may support policies that have been disastrous for this country – but he’s not in a league with genocidal dictators like Hitler and Mugabe. It’s the same kind of bad/good, evil/Godly duality crap that the Bush administration used to gain support for its disastrous post-9/11 policies.

It’s this kind of sophomoric crap that gives liberalism a bad name. John McCain may be a lot of things, but evil isn’t one of them. Madonna, you're a really smart woman. Why don't you cut this stupid shit out? It neither serves you or your cause. Unless your cause is really about stirring up some bullshit controversy and showing that you can still be at the center of the news. If that's the case, you're a bigger jerk than I ever imagined.

Radio Deliver Me From Nowhere

I’ve been listening to the radio for the first time in years. Specifically, I’ve been playing New York’s new rock station, 101.9 WRXP. It’s a reasonably interesting concept – a mixture of classic rock and indie rock/alternative. (Thankfully, the classic rock played so far hasn’t been that predictable.) Certainly, it’s the only station I’ve ever heard where the Hold Steady follows Billy Joel and Ra Ra Riot follows the Rolling Stones. It’s not a Jack-FM concept (radio as iPod) – it’s a simply a station that makes the claim that rock is a long continuum, one in which pre-punk and post-punk rock can live harmoniously with one another.

Unfortunately, it’s a continuum that excludes great soul and r&b. Following a decades old tradition, the number of black artists recurrently played on rock radio amounts to one – Jimi Hendrix. It’s too predictable to be dispiriting – but the station would sound a hell of a lot better with some James Brown, P-Funk, Marvin Gaye and Al Green.

That being said, I’ve been enjoying hearing the juxtaposition of newer artists next to the classic rockers. What jumps out at me when listening to the new stuff is that they don’t seem to be writing singles. Perhaps it is because for most of the indie bands (American ones more so than British ones), being on commercial radio is never even seen as a possibility. But while most of the new stuff sounds good and has a cool vibe, it doesn’t leap out of the speakers, make you stop what you’re doing and wonder, “Who IS that?”

There’s one exception: The Hold Steady’s “Sequestered In Memphis.” I’m still not quite sold like others are on their new album, but the vibrancy of the song jumps out of the radio and has me turn it up every time. In a never-ending era of detachment and cool, Craig Finn and company’s passion remind that there’s still a vociferous crew of people out there that still feel about music the way I do.

Little Jackie: The Stoop

Imani Coppola is one of those names I've been hearing in the ether for years, but I haven't bumped into her music until her new album, The Stoop, a collaboration with DJ/producer/programmer Adam Pallin that's under the moniker Little Jackie. It's an enjoyable album, filled with fun, smarts and sass (if you read the reviews of Imani's music, "sass" seems to come up a lot), but it's missing that certain something that would make it great.

Little Jackie may have emerged as concept in the wake of Amy Winehouse's success and the "soul revival," (there's an obvious debt to Gnarls Barkley here as well) and by Coppola's own admission, it's designed to "get her back to the center." But Coppola's orientation is much more bohemian folkie than it is soul diva, so you can still hear the strain of anti-commercialism (and more than a touch of arrogance) that has been a noted feature of Coppola's personality. For Coppola, making a record that is actually commercial would be slumming - so Little Jackie is her compromise.

So the album is filled with incisive and sharp lyrics and music that has touches of 60's and 70's soul, while retaining its modernity. (Fortunately, the music is not a exact recreation of 60's soul, a la the Dap-Kings.) "The World Should Revolve Around Me" is a sometimes hilarious admission of her own self-centerdness and "The Stoop" is a statement of pride of her native Brooklyn that follows the tradition of Stevie Wonder's "I Wish." But never on the album does Coppola express anything that actually makes her seem vulnerable - and vulnerability is one of the keys to great soul. Nor does the music ever reach the level of truly unforgettable - the songs are good, but not quite good enough. Next time, if Coppola can reach down deeper within herself, give up her opinions about what being commercial is, write about really matters to her and express it in a way that resonates beyond the bohemian, she might actually reach the level of artistry she's always aspired to. And she'd probably be far more successful commercially, too.

Ruminations On Jerry Wexler

Jerry Wexler was one of my heroes. As I got into soul music in my late teens, it seemed as though the credit "Produced by Jerry Wexler" was on every album I bought. Aretha Franklin. Ray Charles. Sam & Dave. Wilson Pickett. The Drifters. And on and on. In possession of an obsessive mind, I soon began reading pretty much everything I could about him, and as I made the decision to be in the record business, he quickly became someone I aspired to be.

I admired and identified with him tremendously. He was an intellectual misfit, voraciously reading and loving the work of American writers like Faulkner, Hemingway and Fitzgerald - yet he was an underachieving student. His identified completely as a Jew, yet he was a vociferous atheist. He distrusted authority, but he spoke with certitude of taste. His opinion was not just another opinion. He did not suffer fools at all. And, of course, he had amazing taste – able to see greatness in artists no matter what the style, no matter what the genre, no matter what the era. It’s a long and varied road from Joe Turner to Ray Charles, from the Drifters to Wilson Pickett, from Clapton to Led Zeppelin, from Dr. John to the B-52’s and from Willie Nelson to the Gang of Four, but Wexler was able to discern what was special about all of them as musicians and as people, not always in that order, and then he guided, prodded, cajoled, begged and inspired them to create their best work.

Of course, it the triumph he shared with Aretha Franklin that Wexler will be most remembered, and lionized for. He took a supremely talented woman who was hyped as the greatest jazz voice since Billie Holiday - then completely miscast as a singer of pop and lite jazz, and under his watchful eye, had her recreate herself as the most important female vocalist – musically, culturally, spiritually – of the second half of the twentieth century. How did he do it? He created the space for her be herself. “I just sat her down at the piano and let her be herself,” he later said. What an marvelous thing – letting someone be themselves. (And believe me, I’ve worked in the record business long enough to know that letting someone be themselves is the unfortunately, the exception rather than the rule.) If soul was the musical expression of a race of people ready to affirm who and what they were and demand what they wanted (which resonated universally), than Aretha was the epitome of that expression. The miracle of soul music (and Wexler’s legacy) is that it is an affirmation valuing personal authenticity that will resonate as long as people listen to music.

When I had my first interview to be an intern at Atlantic Records in the early 90’s, my vision of Atlantic was what it had been in the mid-60’s. I was bursting at the seams with excitement and tremendously naive. I remember excitedly asking the H.R. person I was talking to, “Does Jerry Wexler still work here?” She smiled, a look of, “I don’t believe this kid,” and told me that he had left the company over 15 years previously. I loved interning at Atlantic – but I was working on Winger, Skid Row and INXS - not the Drifters, Sam & Dave and Donnie Hathaway.

My second summer at Atlantic, I interned for Jerry’s son, Paul Wexler, a wonderful guy, and we became friends. (Paul – if you’re reading this, email me – I’d love to reconnect.) By my second summer in the record biz, I knew enough that I had to play things cooler. When I found out whose son Paul was, I didn’t approach him and go, “Wow! You’re Jerry Wexler’s son! Tell me everything!” I just did my job for him and we began to talk about our mutual love of the Grateful Dead (Paul turned me on to the great Binghamton, 5/2/70 show, a legendary one in Dead-lore) and other artists. The best compliment Paul gave me was one day a couple of weeks into my internship, when he said, “You know your stuff.”

Eventually, Paul talked to me a bit of what it was like to be Jerry Wexler’s son. It wasn’t easy. Jerry was on the road for most of Paul’s childhood, and when he was home, it was all about him and the business. Jerry was opinionated to the point of arrogance, even with his kids, so when Paul would play some early Rolling Stones (consisting of covers of many songs that Jerry had produced in their original versions) or the Grateful Dead, Jerry often would irritably inquire, “What are you playing this shit for?” And being the son of a famous/legendary father is never uncomplicated. Paul told me a story that when he met Eric Clapton, Clapton shook his hand and said, “tough act to follow.” I learned that there was a great price paid for all of that success. And I knew it left its mark because Paul never referred to his father as “Dad.” It was always “Jerry.”

(This was in the early 90’s – judging from the tone in which Paul spoke of his father in the obituaries today, I am guessing that they got closer in the past 15 years before Jerry’s death. I certainly hope that was the case.)

Jerry Wexler was a giant of American music. It's almost impossible to gauge the impact he had. But whether it's the legacy of Aretha in singers like Mariah & Christina (Jerry hated Mariah - thought she oversang), the term R&B itself (Jerry invented it), the legacy of Stax, the rise of Southern Rock and so much more, Jerry Wexler was a contribution to it all.

What a thing to be.