Friday 27 March 2015

Funk blessings from being colourblind: Rick Hall, Fame Studios & the Muscle Shoals Sound

 I do believe imagination figments and coincidence can't be scapegoated for the outbursts of racial rantings and commentaries which seem to have burst out from their usual high security prison cells. Appearing to stem from the terror works of Isis, the all too numerous murders of unarmed black males at the hands of Police in America, and the channels by which impressionable-aged kids can be led into war zones, we now find ourselves submersed in the dispiriting, frightening and unnerving-to-many subject of race relations and racism.

Understably though, such a topical field carries in its wake a whole host of long standing, well established beefs. Enough beef in fact to make any vegan feel alone on Earth. As an avid appreciator to the stories of a decidedly more open minded nature, I was upbeat to the finding of Muscle Shoals. Perhaps occurring to be a quiet little backwater to the unknowing eye, Muscle Shoals is a small town situated on the Tennessee river in North West Alabama. Indeed 'little backwater' would be correct, but 'quiet' it was not. At least not inside the shell of Fame Recording Studios. 


The work of the venerable Rick Hall, Fame was a factory for some of the funkiest and biggest tracks from the 1960s and 70s. Self-proclaimed colourblind, all-knowing and meticulous to the last, his story is one defined by an indefatigable ability to overcome, rise to greatness, and go down in history. Names like Wilson Pickett, Percy Sledge, Otis Redding, Etta James and Aretha 'no-need-for-a-surname' Franklin, all went through these studios during this era. 

Likened to alchemy, the Muscle Shoals Sound was all the more satisfying and change-instigating under the circumstances from which it was born. With The Confederacy's loss in The American Civil War in 1865, slavery was abolished. But by 1890, following Reconstruction, the implementation of de jure racial segregation had taken root in all public places in the South; the Jim Crow Laws. Destined to legally divide until 1964, Alabama played host to such events as the 'Stand in the Schoolhouse Door' - Govenor of Alabama, George Wallace's defiant literal stand in the entry to the Foster Auditorium at the University of Alabama. All in an attempt to prevent 2 of the highest standard black students from entering to enrole at the University. Vying to uphold his promise of "Segregation now. Segregation tomorrow. Segregation forever." and eventually only stepping aside following the orders of the then President Kennedy. 

With racism still dragging down society in the 21st Century, it's easily conceivable how little white attitudes changed following the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Indeed, in Alabama it'd take an extraordinary brand of courage and free-thinking to stand against the flow and go with integration. Either that, or the rare skin-specific form of colour blindness which Rick Hall possessed. Growing up in Alabama's Freedom Hills, he was born into extreme poverty. Living in a home, set away from the rest of the world, built by his father, where on mud floors he would writhe and thrive on a will to be somebody. Enduring the tragic death of his Brother, who was just 3 years old, and the departure of his Mother, who went on to become a prostitute - this owing to the low standard of living provided by Rick's father, who was a saw miller.


Having gone into partnership for his first recording studio venture, the first track they would cut was 'Steal Away' by Jimmy Hughes. A hit, though Hall would quickly be singled out and let go by his partners, for reasons of being a "workaholic". Now, it beggars belief how many heartbreaking losses one man can endure, but following this was the untimely demise of his wife of just 18 months. Dying in a car accident, which Rick would survive and subsequently, in his own words, would "become a drunk. A bagabon. A tramp." Living out of his car with only his music left, he would return to Muscle Shoals with a vengeance. Fervid in character with an indomitable will, he would first cut 'You Gotta Move On' by Arthur Alexander - a track which would go on to be covered by The Beatles and The Rolling Stones no less. 

With a self-reliant setup he looked to recruit an in-house rhythm section. Made up of local white musicians, Paul Simon of Stax Records is known to have phoned up Al Bell, quoted as saying, "Hey man! I want them same black players that played on 'I'll Take You There'", to which his reply was, "well that can happen, but these guys are mighty pale!". To become known as The Swampers, they were a major factor behind the studios appeal, and the signature Muscle Shoals Sound. Aretha herself was quoted as saying "we just didn't expect them to be as funky, or as greezy as they were." It was these same musicians who would back up for countless black frontmen and women. Among these, local boy Percy Sledge, voice of the iconic 'When A Man Loves A Woman'; seen above during a live performance with a certain left handed guitarist who wouldn't last long in the background.


Such hits soon brought by Wilson Pickett (seen above with The Swampers) and big time Atlantic Records Producer, Jerry Wexler. Forging a great relationship with Hall, the 'Wicked Pickett' would go on to produce funk gold like 'Land of 1000 Dances' - if you don't recognise the name, I guarantee you've heard the intro. Yet Wexler and Hall were destined to clash over perhaps one of the most important tracks Fame ever produced..

As unfathomable as it might seem, after six years with Colombia Records behind her Aretha was experiencing difficulty in making her career take-off. With general consensus attributing this to the mixed and unrefined styles she was given, one trip to Fame Recording Studios was to give Franklin the break she was looking for, and opened the gates for a most legendary of musical careers. Brought down by Jerry Wexler, Franklin, The Swampers and Hall were to record 'I Never Loved A Man The Way I Love You'. Cut within 15-20 minutes, it was to become her first million selling single, and would see the begins of a career which would flourish into a commercial super-power, equalled by few, and outdone by none. 


Yet owing to a verbalised personal grievance of Aretha's then husband, Ted White, a crack was to form. Hall, after more than one or two drinks, made his way to their hotel, to patch things up, but wound up in a physical altercation with White. Thereby causing White and Franklin to fly back to New York. Wexler, in a sly play, was to bring the Swampers to New York to finish recording Franklin's album. The same album which brought 'Respect' to the world, they would go on to record numerous hits together, including 'Think'. 

The Swampers would go on to separate themselves from Rick Hall, opening their own studio in Muscle Shoals; Muscle Shoals Sound Studios. Hall would suffer again with the loss of his father in a tractor accident, though forever remembering their life together which was depicted by Clarence Carter on 'Patches'. Locked in a battle with rival Jerry Wexler, and The Swampers, he would go on to produce names like Etta James. And having released a feature length documentary in 2013, 'Muscle Shoals', you can catch the extended version in its full audio and visual glory. 

Enduring in the extreme. Still producing to this day. A work ethic which he shares with all who reach greatness in their respective professions. But a colourblind and completely racist free attitude shared by virtually nobody in the Deep South during this era. Perhaps in the contemporary age we are too problem fixated, and not solution fixated. However Rick Hall of course was neither; he was Funk fixated, for which we owe him our gratitude.




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