Levi Stubbs of The Four Tops

Levi Stubbs

What's WRONG? At CLUB DEAD, The bell tolls for
Levi Stubbs of The Four Tops, soul singer and voice of the carnivorous Audrey II in "Little Shop of Horrors" Stubbs died at home following a long string of illnesses, cancer and a stroke. He was 72.

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Some cities evoke certain reactions. Dodge City? The wild west. Dallas? Oil. Nashville? Twanging guitars. Philadelphia? High Society

Detroit? Motown (yeah, cars, but with gas prices....)

The unpretentious building bears the designation "Hitsville USA." It's a museum now; hey, truth be told, it was a museum then.

Motown...Marvin, Aretha, Smokey, and the Four Tops. They lasted over forty years with all the original members who broke as the Four Aims in 1953. After a name change to avoid confusion with the Ames Brothers, they soared to the pinnacle of stardom. More to the point, they stayed there. At the forefront of the band was Levi Stubbs, a Detroit native and posessor of a singing voice that could stop you in your tracks.

“Levi was the greatest interpreter of songs I've ever heard,” said Motown guru Berry Gordy. “Levi's voice exploded in the room and went straight for our hearts." The band churned out hit after hit through the sixties and seventies..."Baby, I Need Your Loving," "Bernadette," "Standing in the Shadows of Love," "Are You Man Enough?," "Ain't No Woman Like The One I Got." 45 hit singles in all, the last in 1988 ("Indestructible.")

Along the way, there were side trips into acting, most notably in the 1986 movie adaptation of the musical "Little Shop of Horrors." Stubbs lent his voice to Audrey II, the alien blood-sucking plant that brought fame to Rick Moranis and the other residents of Skid Row (the place, not the band) I confess to sometimes wanting to slip "Mean Green Mother From Outer Space" into the 80s at 8:00. (Of course I also want to judge the biggest gazangos contest at South Beach, so pay that no mind). CAUTION: Adult language

The Four Tops were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1990. In 1997, original member Lawrence Payton died of liver cancer. Obie Benson passed away from lung cancer in 2005. Levi Stubbs' death leaves Abdul “Duke” Fakir as the only surviving member of the band.

Stubbs stopped performing in 2000 due to his health. He would, on occassion, make cameo appearances at concerts by Motown artists. That's our loss. but when they bring the stacks and stcks of wax...he'll sing on into infinity.

Then again, screw him, he's dead. Let's go look for crocodiles.

StevenK

Paul Newman

Paul Newman

What's WRONG? At CLUB DEAD, the bell tolls for Paul Newman, actor, director, race car driver, entrepeneur, and blue-eyed devil. It sure as hell took the Academy long enough to recognize his talent. After several nominations, he finally got an honorary Oscar in 1985. As if to say "up yours," he then went out the next year and got one the old-fashioned way. He earned it.

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Paul Newman's screen performances were legendary. Even the highlights will take a while.

We begin with the mandatory roll call of classic movies in which he starred: Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, The Sting, The Hustler, The Color of Money, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Hud, Torn Curtain, Fort Apache The Bronx, Exodus, The Verdict, Life And Times of Judge Roy Bean, The Towering Inferno, Lady L, Cool Hand Luke...okay, gotta stop somewhere. Add the 'guy' movies, Slap Shot (Hanson Brothers, eh?), Somebody Up There Likes Me (the story of boxer Rocky Graziano), Sometimes A Great Notion, and "Winning," where he indulged his passion for auto racing.

I once heard the definition of "a gentleman" was one who was at home in anyone's company. That fits Paul Newman perfectly. His co-stars were the cream of the crop Elizabeth Taylor, Sophia Loren, Robert Redford, Sally Field, and wife JoAnne Woodward.

He ran with the giants, but never seemed to assimilate their personality. He and Woodward had fifty years together, though it was not the first marriage for him. By all accounts, he kept the common touch. Reportedly, his favorite movie was Slap Shot, the gritty, vulgar and hilarious story of a minor-league hockey team struggling to attract enough fans to remain solvent. Not exactly highbrow.

Much will be written of his penchant for racing cars, and his venture in merchandising, with his Newman's Own food brands, whose profits go to charity.

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The movie geek in me would recommend three lesser-known movies:

• The Young Philadelphians, with Paul as a up-and-coming Philiadelphia society lawyer who risks exposing a family scandal by defending an old friend accused of murder. Great cast, including Brian Keith, Barbara Rush, John Williams, and future TV stars Robert Vaughn (The Man from UNCLE) and Adam West (Batman). Don't miss a great turn on the witness stand by Richard Deacon. (You'd know him as Mel Cooley, the bald-headed producer from the Dick Van Dyke Show, and as the father of Wally's pal Lumpy Rutherford on Leave It To Beaver)
  
  
• Blaze, a mostly-true story of Louisiana politico Earl Long, and his relationship with stripper Blaze Starr (Lolita Davidovich) His controversial career included a term as governor and a time of commitment to the mental hospital.
  
  
• Absence of Mailce..not really obscure (one of his Oscar nominations) but somewhat overlooked now. Newman is tainted by a erronious newspaper article saying he is suspected of murder. Sally Field is the reporter, and Wilford Brimley is the Federal investigator with the all time classic line: "Come sundown...I'm going to have somebody's ass in my briefcase."
  

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It's better to laugh than cry, so to here's Paul Newman unleashing his secret weapon (The Hansen Brothers) in the rowdy comedy Slap Shot (1977) WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE

Maybe Paul Newman's natually laid-back persona hampered him from winning the multiple Oscars he so richly deserved. In 1985, after six nominations, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences voted to present him a lifetime Oscar, a tribute usually reserved for those at the end of their career. Some of his friends though he was being insulted... sort of a "Don't let the door hit you on the way out" vibe. Newman didn't take offense, at least not openly

"You don't kick people in the butt who are trying to be nice to you," he said.
But Newman also told a reporter "It's like pursuing a beautiful woman for years, then when she finally succumbs, you have to say, I'm sorry; I'm tired." His lawyer was more blunt: "They always treated him like he was second, and now they're acting like he's old and through."

For whatever reason, Newman latched on to his current project, updating one of his most memorable characters 25 years later. Fast Eddie Felson, the pool whiz kid from "The Hustler" was now an aged, usually wise, mentor to Tom Cruise in Martin Scorcese's "The Color of Money." One again, Newman recieved a nomination. He declined to attend the ceremony, announcing he was "too busy."

Of course, he won. Sometimes the good guys finish first, even after six tries.

Then again, screw him, he's dead. Let's go look for crocodiles.

StevenK

Richard Wright of Pink Floyd

What's WRONG? At CLUB DEAD, the bell tolls for keyboardist Richard Wright, founding member of Pink Floyd, and author of several classics, including "Us and Them" and "Shine On You Crazy Diamond." Wright died of cancer at the age of 65. (His family is requesting privacy as to any additional information about his death.) Petty infighting removed him from his rightful place. Even if there were a Pink, it wouldn't have been him.

In Have a Cigar, Pink Floyd spoofs a comment by a record company exec, who, upon meeting the band, asks "Which one's Pink?" Even if there had been a definitive front man for the band, Richard Wright wouldn't have fit the bill. But it's hard to dispute the idea that his experimental keyboard stylings were the pistons under Pink's hood.

Musicians universally despise the "they sound like so-and-so" comment. They spend years crafting their art, and some aspiring journalist hears a few cuts, and brands them as a soundalike cover band. With Pink Floyd, there was virtually no obvious predecessor. But there was the everpresent sound of Richard Wright's keyboard, binding the parts together, its majesty infused with psychedelic tranqility.

Unlike bandmates, Syd Barrett, David Gilmour, and Roger Waters, Wright tended to escape the solo attention that came with being a rock star. As Pink Floyd emerged from the mid-Sixties London counterculture, Wright gradually shied from his place in the spotlight once Barrett left the band due to mental and emotional quirks, and especially with the unrivaled success of Dark Side of the Moon. The album spent fourteen years on the Billboard Top 200, the Bible of music industry retail sales.

The next Pink Floyd LP, Wish You Were Here featured a song Wright composed on Barrett's honor: Shine On You Crazy Diamond

Wright had a public falling out with the band, and was exiled from the inner circle after the release of The Wall, though he later made contributions to projects and tours by other Floyd members.

Live 8, the 2005 charity show, featured a reunited Floyd (minus Barrett) performing live in London for the first time in over two decades.

Shameless Plug: On my Steven Kelly Page at WABX.net, you'll find instructions for the "Dark Side of the Rainbow" synchronization of Pink Floyd and The Wizard of Oz

And here, some video of Richard Wright's contributions to the Floyd.

What might they have done had they not fallen from grace with each other?

On the other had, screw him; he's dead. Let's go look for crocodiles.

StevenK

Don LaFontaine

Don LaFontaine, Scary Voice Guy

What's WRONG? At CLUB DEAD, the bell tolls for Don LaFontaine, arguably the most prominent voice-over actor of our time. In a world where dramatic inflection and a commanding tone of voice are the tools to succeed, his work set the gold standard for the rest of us wannabees.

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No apologies here. This is simply a case of hero worship. The voice of over five thousand movie trailers, Don LaFontaine's name still will mean little to anyone outside of the world of voice actors. The prominent pop culture image is probably the recent Geico "we hired an actor" TV commercials, in which Don LaFontaine spoofed himself as "That announcer guy from the movies." He repeated the story of the woman whose cars flooded, in the phrasing and inflection of his movie trailers.

In cyber-speak, the term is SVG: Scary Voice Guy. In the radio industry, we call them Voice Gods. They are those men and women who appear for a few seconds between the songs, and speak in tones of satin sheets, or rumbling thunder. They implore us to listen to FUNKY-109.6 because they play the best music or the most music or most of the best music or the greatest memories, or the best variety of songs while you work or play or listen all day...you know the drill.

On television, they'll make sure you're aware of an all new episode of LOST or the season premiere of House; or the old familiar "Very Special Episode" of your favorite show. It's their job to alert you that someone will die tonight on Desperate Housewives, or that tomorrow night, the E.R. doctors face a crisis like none before.

Every trade has its heroes. Ballplayers have a few beers and talk of being the next A-Rod or Brett Favre. Radio people sit around and try through slurrred lips to say "This..is CNN" like James Earl Jones.

There are thousands of people who did what Don LaFontaine did for a living, but few as successful. Most toil in anonymity. Sometimes, though, the voice becomes so well known, so omnipresent, that it achieves its own status in the culture, even as their names remain unknown. John Facenda, the longtime voice of NFL films, ("...the frozen tundra of Lambeau Field, warrors clad in loins of green and gold") broke through that wall. So did Ernie Anderson, ("The Luhhh-vvve Boat") and Peter Thomas, who delighted in telling of the various waitresses or cabdrivers who would hear his voice, and exclaim 'oh my, you're Exxon!' or 'Hey, it's Mr. American Express.'

They all had their hook.

So did Don LaFontaine. His catch phrase, "In a world where..." came from his work voicing movie trailers: "In a world where men and women were slaves...," or "In a world where the rules have been abandoned," ... or whatever circumstance was relevant to that movie. It was a subject of frequent parody in the industry, so if imitation really IS the sincerest form of flattery, he was flattered like no other.

A few years ago, a friend of his put together a trailer parody of the voice gods on their way to an awards show. Click the video to see "Five Guys In A Limo." You'll recognize the voices, if not the faces.

As I said at the beginning of this piece, this is hero worship. I admit to more than a little good-natured departmental envy when Don LaFontaine's voice recently popped up here on the Hill in some bits he recorded for our corporate partner station, HOT 96. I think I heard them all, at least I damn sure tried. Genius like that, right here in my own back yard, is not something to be ignored.

Then again, screw him, he's dead. Let's go look for crocodiles.

StevenK

 

Jerry Reed

Jerry Reed

What's WRONG? At CLUB DEAD, the bell tolls for Jerry Reed, country singer/songwriter, occassional movie pal of Burt Reynolds, and (insert regret here) NOT my boss.

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They say laughter can take you a long way on this earth, and make your journey not only more pleasant, but longer. Jerry Reed made it to 71. Lord know he made us laugh.

During my garage band days, I hung aroung Memphis and knew a few session musicians, and that's how I came to meet Jerry Reed. I didn't know what to think when he grabbed my bicep and felt it.

"Son!", he said in his best When You're Hot You're Hot voice, "What'cha been eatin?" He then offered me a job as a bodyguard, although it was probably more in jest than not. Back then, I had more granite and less filler material. More than a few times, I've wondered what might have been waiting on the road not taken.

Jerry Reed was one of those special singers who found a niche outside of the normal boundaries. After having established himself as a sucessful songwriter and session picker, he crossed over from country to pop stardom. It was an odd time musically, that era of homogenized AM Top 40, when radio played the popular songs, regardless of arbitrary categories. Jerry's song might be preceded by Diana Ross and followed by Led Zeppelin.

He was part of the "Country when country wasn't cool" club. You might even give him credit for being one of the ones who helped make it cool, with novelty songs like "Amos Moses," "Lord, Mr. Ford," and "Tupelo, Mississippi Flash(an homage to Elvis Presley, in appreication for Elvis having covered Jerry's "Guitar Man") keeping him in he public eye.

In 1974, he made "W.W. and the Dixie Dance Kings," his first of several films with Burt Reynolds, then the biggest star in movies. Jerry played a guitarist in a band managed by Burt. Something must have clicked, because they followed it up two years later with "Gator." The fun was just beginning

In 1977 came "Smokey and the Bandit." The movie became a national phenomenon at the height of the CB radio craze, and yielded a mega-hit, "East Bound and Down" for truck-drivin' Jerry. The sight of Sally Fields alongside Burt in the black TransAm also became legendary. Jackie Gleason boiled and bitched as the sheriff who chases them as they try to make good on a bet to smuggle a truckload of Coors beer to Atlanta. (Younger readers may not know that until 1981, Coors was sold only west of the Mississippi, which added to its mystique)

A sequel followed, then a disappointing third "Smokey" film, minus Burt, who was refered to but never actually seen as the TransAm peeled across the screen.

Jerry Reed got his own chance to star in 1979's "Hot Stuff." Also starring Suzanne Pleshette and Burt's pal Dom DeLouise, the movie told of Miami cops who fence stolen goods through a pawn shop in order to trap theives. "Hot Stuff" was better than it was received, but disco had come fully into fashion, and audiences evidently had grown tired of good ol' boys. Even the title made people think of the Donna Summer song of the same name, which had no connection to the movie.

Jerry went back into the studio and recorded another hit album, including one of his biggest songs, "The Bird." Jerry sang of buying a talking bird from a con man. Naturally, at the first opportunity, the bird flies the coop. And the same era yielded perhaps his crowning song, a lament familiar to every divorced man: "She Got The Gold Mine; I Got The Shaft."

His legacy is that of a man who left you feeling better and happier. that's a good life to live. He was wrong, you know. WE got the gold mine.

Then again, screw him, he's dead. Let's go look for
crocodiles.

StevenK

Issac Hayes

What's WRONG? At CLUB DEAD, the bell tolls for Issac Hayes, a/k/a/ South Park's Chef a/k/a Soul Music's Hot Buttered Icon, dying of an apparent stroke after a session on the treadmill. How could one man have so many cool points? Easy. That cat Issac is a bad motherSHUT YOUR MOUTH

Issac Hayes. His definitive LP also bore one of his nicknames, Hot Buttered Soul. You could almost play a game of free association with his name. Memphis, Stax, Shaft, Hot Buttered Soul, chains(no not 'bling.' Doesn't sound cool enough.) the bald head, the knowing smile, and the voice. It was the voice, and the attitude, that introduced the South Park generation to Issac Hayes. And to those who know only Chef, there's a world of (as Chef might say) hot pulsating music ready to envelop you.

Barry White was the only other person considered, but in the end, Issac Hayes was the perfect choice to be Chef. His musical gift, and his unbelievably complex verbal skills (in addition to his singing talent, he had become a popular radio d.j. in New York City in recent years) gave him the right attitude for the frienly ladle-wielding keeper of the lunchroom at South Park Elementary (I mean come on...we all know Chef really ran the school.)

Thousands will be eulogizing Chef. I'm going to talk about Issac. And to do that, I'm going to talk about Soul. Soul is more than an antiquated term for African-American R&B songs. Soul was an essential element to surviving the sixties... no exaggeration intended. As riots erupted and city after city burned during the long, tense summers, soul became code for survival. As Americans, we became keely aware that just having a good heart and following along with "the way things are" wasn't going to cut it any more.

Soul came to sybolize the new birth of emancipation. To have soul was to have understanding, and empathy for the struggle which could no longer inch along at the pace of the status quo. To be known as having soul was to be venerated as part the new America. To be a Soul Brother or Soul Sister meant that you shared trust, accceptance, and the sober truth that our country was thrashing and kicking as it was finally being held accountable to our daring idea that everone is created equal.

It was spirtual protection, sometimes literal protection... and you damn well better take note of the new order. Dotted across the landscape that summer, I saw many businesses and homes with the words "Soul Brother" proudly displayed, Sometimes it was desperately displayed, as if to say "I sympathize. Please don't burn my store."

These were serious days, and a young boy trying to understand why there was such anger, and such revolution in the wind, looked for answers. My best friend's mother worked at the neighborhood Kroger, and she had been given the honor/task of painting "Soul Brother" over the store's boarded up windows, which were covered for fear they'd be broken. I guess they were just covering any eventuality.

So, "soul" was not a concept to be idly tossed around. It was a badge, a mantra, a statement of who we were, what we stood for, and (most important) what we would no longer stand for. The questions became unavoidable. Like most of my generation, I came to ask them all. I would ask anyone who would answer, or anyone who would even listen. I would ask them at a young age...maybe too young to properly grasp the depth of the feelings. The answers to those questions told me a lot about who I was, who we were as the flower power generation, and where we stood as Americans.

In a nutshell, we found the answers. We survived, and we embraced the changes. And thank God we did.

Issac Hayes was one of those who led the way. As with so many social changes, the culture molded to the message of the entertainers. Soul was cool; soul was right, No one was cooler or righter than Issac Hayes.

We could still be startled though. When Shaft was released in July 1971, it captivated the nation. Some people noticed Richard Roundtree in the title role of a detective hired to find a mobster's daughter. Some others worried about the violence, and the term "blaxpliotation" would soon come into being.

But everyone was buzzing about the song. We'd not heard anything like it before. That three-note bass line, dropping a momentary octave after each triplet, the brass adding layer upon layer of stacotta riffs, climaxing with a question unlike any heard on the radio before:

"Who's the black private dick who's a sex machine to all the chicks?"

"Shaft" came the response. And in 1971, most of us couldn't get away with saying "..they say this cat Shaft is a bad mother(SHUT YOUR MOUTH)." Issac Hayes could. And he kept producing music unlike anyone else's. Wonder what he was listening to on that treadmill, seconds before his time ran out.

I'll bet it had soul. Hell, if Issac Hayes was around it, it had soul.

On the other hand, screw him; he's dead. Let's go look for crocodiles.

StevenK

 

Bernie Mack

What's WRONG?At CLUB DEAD, the bell tolls for Bernie Mack, actor and comedian. WTF? He's just now starting to make it.Where the hell's Mr. Jordan? It couldn't have been his time yet!

When I saw the photo of Bernie Mack on the screen, I assumed it was some publicity blurb for Ocean's Thirty-six or wherever they are now. Sadly, the story it told was one of a crying family, a weak heart, and a gruff but gentle giant with a shell more fragile than anyone could tell.

He seemed so young. Hell, he was young, at least in terms of dying. Pneumonia's not supposed to kill you... not nowadays. His family had come to realize that his pneumonia was more serious than first thought. Drag out all the cliches about God wanting to laugh, and we never know when the curtain will fall, and he's in a better place, catching Lenny Bruce and Henny Youngman's new act. By now, he'll have checked out Redd Foxx and Richard Pryor's new material. All those things we always say "out of respect" when what we're really doing is making ourselves feel better.

(Some other time, dear reader, we'll ponder if he really would have done those things that quickly. I mean, if it takes an hour and a half to change license plates, it might be logical to expect eternal judgement to take more than a few minutes. God surely doesn't seek to administer justice faster than a Mexican court.)

Bernie Mac seemed to be genuine. Some Hollywood people just look phony. You couldn't imagine ever seeing them on the Mary-Tekoppel bus, or running into then having a cup of coffee at Donut Bank. Not so with him. I could imagine Bernie knocking on his neighbor's door, asking to borrow a ratchet; or bragging that he made it straight home from work without stopping for a single orange barrel.

Maybe a bit of pomposity, just the right amount, sealed the mix. I wish we'd gotten to know him a little better.

On the other hand, screw him; he's dead. Let's go look for crocodiles.

StevenK