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In honor of Jerry Wexler: the soul man of Atlantic Records Jerry Wexler (left), Aretha Franklin (center) click on photo to enlarge by Steven Hashimoto
Let’s talk about Jerry Wexler. If you hadn’t heard, he died Friday,
(August 15, 2008) at the age of 91 (and sadly ironic that his death
follows Isaac Hayes by a week).
One could argue that few people affected American pop culture,
and indeed America itself, as profoundly as Wexler did.
The gigantic footprint he left in American music began when he hummed “The Tennessee Waltz”, a song that he liked, to Patti Page, who then recorded it and turned it into a monster hit record in 1950. As an early partner in Atlantic Records in the ‘60s, he was responsible for bringing artists like Ray Charles, Otis Redding, Wilson Pickett, Aretha Franklin, Sam and Dave, Dusty Springfield, Ruth Brown and many more into the roster, and produced records that introduced the funkier Stax/Volt sound to America. Although his career ran parallel to Berry Gordy’s at Motown, the Motown sound was a more cosmopolitan, urbane type of music, at least compared to the gritty down-home funk of Wexler’s records. Prior to Wexler's joining Atlantic records, he was an editor at Billboard Magazine who coined the term "Rhythm and Blues" in 1949, to replace the title "Race Records" for the trade magazine's black music charts. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that the soul music of Atlantic, Stax, Volt, Motown and Tamla records were as much a contributing factor to the civil-rights struggles of the ‘60s as Martin Luther King, Malcolm X and The Freedom Riders were; the sound of Aretha and Otis and the Wicked Pickett helped to introduce young, white America to the African-American experience. And with hindsight one can see that both the Motown and Atlantic/Stax/Volt musical formula were based on racial reconciliation in the studios; the studio bands of all of those labels were racially mixed, perhaps providing a metaphor for what American society itself could be.
I find it interesting (again, in hindsight) that some of the most
influential introducers of Black music into the mainstream were not
Black. Ahmet and Nesuhi Ertegun were Turkish immigrants, and were the
money men behind Atlantic Records, but that description doesn’t really
do them justice; it implies that they supplied the capital and then sat
back and raked in the profits. In the cultural, political and racial
climate of the American ‘50s and ‘60s, selling Black music to White
America was by no means a surefire proposition, and enormous props must
be given to them for their belief that it could be done, and that it was
a worthwhile thing to do. And without Wexler’s radar-like sense for what
was good, and without the technical acumen of Atlantic’s recording
engineer Tom Dowd, I don’t believe that those records would have made
much of an impact outside of regional interest.
And
then there were Jim Stewart and Estelle Axton, the owners of Stax/Volt,
two White Southerners who recorded and put out some of the funkiest
records the world will ever hear. Again, no one could have predicted
that they would enter into American cultural history, but unfortunately
their story did not end in financial success, as Atlantic’s did, even
though Atlantic did buy their label and tried to bail them out.
Wexler’s contributions weren’t confined to the field of R&B; he
also signed Led Zeppelin, and produced records for artists such as
Santana, Bob Dylan and Dire Straits, but R&B remained the love of his
life. When asked what he’d like on his tombstone, he replied “More
Bass”. I know that tonight (I’m writing this Saturday afternoon) I’ll
play at least one of Wexler’s tunes, maybe “Mustang Sally” or “Land Of
1,000 Dances.” I hope this week every single one of
you (my fellow musicians) will
also pay tribute to him at one of your gigs.
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