SOLOMON BURKE RIP

I never saw Solomon Burke perform live, but he’s influenced my appreciation of music as much as anyone.
I got to him in 1964, by way of the Rolling Stones, who delivered their versions of ‘Everybody Needs Somebody To Love’ on their second album, and ‘Cry To Me’ on their third. I’d already learned that when the Rolling Stones covered a track you could do yourself a favour by searching out the original version, and so it proved with Solomon. Back in the early sixties his was considered, by UK mods, to be a very cool name to drop. The first Burke record I bought was an EP with the ineffable track “(Won’t You Give Him) One More Chance” (covered over here by London mod-blues group the T-Bones) which used a beautifully-understated 12-string guitar backing. Later I was to pay more than I’d ever paid before (£60 as I recall) for a second-hand copy of his album ‘The Bishop Rides South’. That was before you could compare prices online and order your stuff on the internet.
Why was Solomon so good? And how did he manage to stay on top for so long in the world of soul music, where early burn-outs and flops into tacky self-parody seem to be the rule rather than the exception? His early stuff was pre-Jerry Wexler, pre-Muscle Shoals and pre-Hi Records. It was soul before soul had really been invented. But the voice was there from the beginning – grittier than Sam Cooke, smoother than Ray Charles – typically laid back, but capable of rising to heights of emotional intensity that gave Bobby Bland a run for his money.
Solomon rode the sixties and the early seventies, working for a range of labels (including Bell, MGM and Chess), handling not just his own material but songs chosen from a very wide field – everything from the Band’s ‘The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down’ to ‘Proud Mary’.
In the mid-70s he spent a little time in the musical wilderness trying to be a poor man’s Barry White – not so much the Walrus of Love as the Hippopotamus (‘Music To Make Love By’ – all growly smooching and simulated orgasms). But after that sadly-misjudged caper he bounced back into form with a couple of classic soul albums (‘Back To My Roots’ and ‘Sidewalks, Fences and Walls’) plus a clutch of lesser-known gospel albums for Savoy.
Towards the end of his career Solomon made some stunning albums, drawing on a remarkably wide range of songwriting and musical styles, including straight-out country (his Shout album ‘Nashville’). My favourite of these is ‘Make Do With What You’ve Got’ (2005).
It was a delight to see the great man on Jools Holland’s New Year TV show a couple of years ago, resting his bulk on an oversized throne but singing as powerfully (and as subtly) as ever.
Time to make sure I’ve got every record he ever made; the Lord is sure to be watching.

Advertisement

1 Comment(s)

Comments RSS TrackBack Identifier URI