The latest in the Visiting Detroit series - Rob Moss expands things with a visit to Memphis making up part 6 of this great series of soul articles

In many ways, Detroit and Memphis have little in common. Historically and geographically, they were at either end of the slave trade – Memphis became the main ‘distribution centre’ for the forced African labour brought in to the southern US States to service the cotton industry, amongst others, whereas Detroit was the final stop in the north for those escaping the horror and degradation of the practice, on their way to freedom in Canada. Tennessee is essentially a rural State. By the 1950s Memphis had become the world’s largest market for spot cotton, hardwood lumber and mules (!). Detroit, and other smaller centres in Michigan, on the other hand, was exclusively industrial, boasting the largest and most powerful automobile industry in the world. Throughout the twentieth century huge numbers of southern blacks migrated north in search of employment and a better life, eager to escape the rampant racism and segregation that existed in the South. From as far back as the nineteenth century, Memphis fostered the musical and artistic expressions of its large black population in the form of Gospel, Blues, Jazz, Rhythm & Blues and Soul and became world renown for the innovators and the innovation it produced. But, many musicians joined the exodus north too, so it is not surprising that those same stylings surfaced in northern cities, albeit in somewhat convoluted or reconstituted forms. As the two streams developed, they each reflected the cultural, political and social environment in which they were created. If Detroit was politically liberal and progressive, Memphis was conservative and reactionary. Whereas Detroit was urbane and cosmopolitan, Memphis was rudimentary and puritanical. Detroit created ‘The Motown Sound’. Memphis gave us ‘Sweet soul music’. This creative divergence reached its zenith in the 1960s when both cities combined to impose their own, quite different, interpretations of black musical expression on the world.

Jack Ashford was born and raised in Philadelphia. Although he began his musical career as a jazz musician playing vibes in various ensembles around his home city, he eventually joined the Motown house band in Detroit, after a chance meeting with members of Marvin Gaye’s road band in New York. He enjoyed a lucrative and relatively successful career in Detroit, as a musician initially, but later as a songwriter, producer and label owner. During the 1960s Ashford and his compatriots had provided the backing music for literally thousands of Motown records in Detroit - a feat only rivalled by the equally distinctive Stax house band that had done the same thing in Memphis. The friendly rivalry that existed, at that time, between the two studios resulted in the creation of some of the most innovative and creative music ever. Stax guitarist Steve Cropper remembers the influence of the Detroit musicians vividly “ I don’t know if they were listening to us, but we were sure listening to them!” Stax even went as far as to ‘cover’ several Motown songs in their own style. It is here that the musical differences become apparent. Otis Redding’s interpretation of Temptations’ songs like ‘My girl’ or ‘It’s growing’, for instance, bear almost no similarity to the originals. Gone are the strings, the elaborate arrangements and the crafted harmonies, to be replaced by stark and stripped down backing using only a skeleton rhythm section and a few horns, a plaintive, emotional vocal that owes more to gospel than to ‘pop’, and a change of tempo that propels the songs from sweet ballads into manic romps. Yet, there was a juxtaposition of purpose between these two tiny, independent enterprises that propelled their own different and distinctive styles into public consciousness, and elevated the standing of their respective cities to new heights. By the late 1980s Jack Ashford had moved to Memphis to be near his daughter who was attending university there. In 1998, I accepted an invitation from him to visit the city. “I hate it here” he would confess in one of our first conversations “ this place is still racist, and I can’t work with their musicians down here. There are forces at work in this city that will ensure that black businesses will fail. You know they were behind the failure of Stax. They just don’t want to see the black man be successful.” was his candid assessment of life in his new home, and a fascinating insight into the different musical idiosyncrasies that obviously exist. My own first impressions of the place were much rosier. On the weekend I arrived, Percy Sledge and Clarence Carter were due to perform at different casinos (which meant it was free admission and a bit of food if you’re lucky) and on different nights, which was convenient. And on the Sunday night Smokey Robinson was booked for one of the local theatres. I’d seen him before in Vancouver, Canada and was thrilled to see him adopt the same procedure of song selection i.e. ask the audience to shout out requests and perform them accordingly. The only problem with this approach however is that roaring ‘Whole lotta shakin’ in my heart’ out at the top of your lungs from the upper balcony can fall on deaf ears on two levels. No matter, a glorious start. Without making Jack sound completely negative and angry, which he patently is not, I was surprised to hear his response to my invitation to accompany me to Smokey’s show. “ Fuck Smokey Robinson” he growled before adding, “Fuck him” as if I hadn’t quite understood his initial entreaty. I decided not to pursue the matter any further but wondered what slight or indiscretion, back in the mists of time, had prompted such a violent verbal ejaculation

Compared to Detroit, Memphis is a tourist haven with amenities and facilities in place to welcome visitors. There is a vibrant Downtown full of restaurants, bars, clubs and other attractions, plus many sites of historical and cultural interest. And, of course, there is the mighty Mississippi that just keeps roll, roll rolling along. A Memphis Riverboat cruise is mandatory and will have you humming ‘Proud Mary’ and similar songs about pickin’ bales of cotton or old men and rivers for hours afterward. The real treasure, however, is located at East McLemore Avenue in a relatively dodgy part of town, where two white folks converted a run down cinema into a recording studio with the intent of making fiddle music and recording country and western songs, all those years ago.

On my way out to the Stax site, I came across, what looked like. a small record shop in the centre of a strip mall. I entered but was disappointed to discover that it only sold cassettes and 8 track tapes. There were photographs and adverts of black artists all over the walls, but almost every one had those massive Afros so popular in the 1970s. It was as if time had stopped around 1978 and we were now caught in a time warp. Bizarre. The owner was at the back of the building playing cards with his mates, and was so ‘laid back’ that he didn’t even bother to attempt to serve me. He mumbled something unintelligible that was probably in Cajun or ‘drawl’, which I ignored, before I spotted a Masqueraders album (the only piece of vinyl in the place) pinned to the top of one of the walls. He saw me looking at it and asked if I liked them. “Oh yes” I purred enthusiastically, to which he then informed me that one of them had a beauty parlour next door, and that the whole group often visited him. I was led next door to meet Robert ‘Tex’ Wrightsill and returned the following day to meet Harold Thomas, David ‘Cowboy’ Sanders and local songwriter/producer Daryl Carter.
                                                Masqueraders On Beale Street

A few days later I was thrilled to watch them perform on Beale Street in Memphis. Several years later I fulfilled a promise to them and arranged their first ‘live’ performance in England. Many who witnessed their performance that night, regard it as one of the very best shows ever seen on our shores.

I did make it over to the Stax site but could only stare dejectedly at an empty lot while recounting just how many great records had been recorded on this hallowed plot by such a special group of men and women. Playing Stax music in the car did nothing to lift the gloom either. Thankfully, the entire building had been completely rebuilt and replicated exactly, when I returned several years later. Only in America.

The Stax "site" before the rebuild

My first visit to the other famous recording studio in Memphis, Hi Records, could not have been more different. Again, it was built in an old cinema, but this time was situated in a more up market part of town. I knocked on the front door and was greeted by one of the warmest welcomes I have ever experienced. I can almost remember the words exactly. “Hi man, where you from? Come on in. My name is Willie Brown. I used to sing with a group called the Mad Lads. Come and meet everyone. Do you want to meet Willie Mitchell? He is right over there in his office. Hey Willie, come and meet what’s your name man?” I was then given a tour of the studio, was allowed to sit at the mixing board and wiggle some of the knobs, take photos and generally ‘hang out’ with everyone. There was no actual recording going on but it didn’t matter. People in the South are very proud of their reputation for hospitality, and it was certainly on show that day. Our conventional wisdom regarding the derivation of the Hi name is that it stands for ‘Hit Instrumentals’ owing to lot of the early output on the label. This turns out to be wrong, as Willie Mitchell explained “ The guy who set the company up was Joe Cuoghi in 1957. The name he chose was the last two letters of his name.”

The significance of the Lorraine Motel in the history and development of Memphis music and culture can never be underestimated. In a racially divided city, it was an oasis, of sorts, where blacks and whites could freely associate in an atmosphere of tolerance. Visiting artists and other dignitaries often stayed there and many famous songs were created within its walls. Otis Redding and Jerry Butler penned ‘I’ve been loving you too long’ there, for instance. Wilson Pickett and Steve Cropper wrote ‘In the midnight hour’ in one of the rooms. There were many others. During his visit to the city in April 1968 to support the sanitation workers’ strike, Dr. Martin Luther King Jnr. stayed there. On 4^th April he was assassinated coming out of one of the first floor rooms. I visited the Motel one cold Sunday afternoon and stood below the scene. It was easy to see where the shot came from, and how close it was. There are two huge red wreaths that mark the spot where he fell, and the two cars that were used by his entourage are still parked in the same spots. Chilling.

Although Memphis is most famous for being the home base of Elvis Presley, I had no interest in visiting any of his haunts, preferring to seek out places of interest to rare soul devotees. It’s always interesting to confuse Muggles by telling them about visiting a famous recording studio in Memphis, followed by the site of a cultural icon’s passing.



 

The Lorraine Motel

They inevitably assume I am referring to Sun Studios and Graceland, respectively, and look genuinely confused when Stax and the Lorraine Motel are mentioned. ‘Tex’ Wrightsill kindly showed me where Chips Moman’s American studio used to be (it was demolished and replaced by a children’s day care centre) and took me to the derelict shell of Isaac Hayes’ custom built studio where the Masqueraders recorded both of their albums for his HBS label. He also explained how they had ended up recording in Detroit after being turned down by Motown, and how they had to stay in the Motor City because they had only bought one-way tickets from Dallas and had no money. The meeting with Lou Beatty was fortuitous indeed. Which brought us conveniently back to the musical differences between Detroit and Memphis. ‘Tex’ provided a tantalising clue to how the styles are so different. “ The musicians in Detroit sit down when they record. Memphis guys stand up!” he explained with a glint in his eye.

Rob Moss
http://www.hayleyrecords.co.uk