
This episode is part of Pledge Week 2024. From Tuesday through Saturday this week I’m posting some of my old Patreon bonuses to the main feed, as a taste of what Patreon backers get. If you enjoy them, why not subscribe for a dollar a month at patreon.co
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Andrew Hickey
This episode is part of pledge week 2024 from Tuesday through Saturday. This week I'm posting some of my old Patreon bonuses to the main feed as a taste of what Patreon backers get. If you enjoy them, why not subscribe for a dollar a month at patreon.com andrewhickey A quick note before I start this episode deals with severe mental illness and lung cancer, so if that might be likely to upset you, you might want to check the transcript before or instead of listening There used to be a record shop in Manchester city centre called Beatin Rhythm. The shop still exists, but now it's in a suburb that's basically impossible for me to get to, and for several years it was where I would go to find records I'd otherwise only read about. It specialised in classic soul records, but it also had good selections of sunshine pop, psychedelia, freakbeat and other such genres. It was the kind of record shop that caters to people who are serious about their music, not to the casual audience. And particularly in the years before you could find stuff easily online, it was crucial in expanding my musical knowledge. It was the kind of place where I'd pick up collections by people I've mentioned in the podcast, like Kurt Boettcher and people who have been too obscure to mention, like Keith Colley. That kind of record shop is used to people coming in and picking up weird and obscure records. And so only once in all my many trips to that shop did a member of staff ever comment on my purchases. When I bought a James Carr collection, the clerk looked at me and said, approving the oh, good choice, you'll like that. I say this to make something clear. Sometimes in these bonus episodes I'm talking about artists that many of my listeners haven't heard of and they get confused why I'm talking about them at all. And in some cases, like today, I'm talking about people where there's a very limited amount of information. The sum total of text written about James Carr probably comes to no more than 20,000 or so words scattered over a handful of not very in depth articles. And so this is going to be one of the shorter Patreon episodes, closer to the 10 minutes I promise at the end of main episodes than to the 50 minutes of some recent ones. He's not someone who comes up in discussions the way that people like Otis Redding or Aretha Franklin do, but among people who are interested in the soul music of the 60s, he is considered peerless and gets spoken about with awe the way few Others do. Many soul singers had nicknames bestowed on them. The Godfather of Soul, the Queen of Soul and so on. James Carr was known as the world's greatest soul singer. He was not, by all accounts a particularly dynamic live performer. He wasn't someone who could do intense dance moves or would fall to his knees dripping with sweat. He was, just, as far as anyone who heard him was concerned, the best soul singer in the world.
James Carr
Of the street. That's where we always meet. Hiding in shelves where we don't belong. Living in darkness to hide our wrong. You and me at the darkness.
Andrew Hickey
There's very little information about James Carr, and what little information there is seems filled with errors. He seems to have sung with various gospel groups as a young man, but nobody seems sure on which ones. His entry in the faber Companions of 20th century Popular music says he was in the Soul Stirrers, but I can't find any confirmation of that in anything about the Soul Stirrers, and other sources say that that was made up by his manager, Roosevelt Jamieson. There are also claims that he was in one of the several gospel groups that use the name Harmony Echoes, and that seems more plausible as Jameson was associated with one of those. But we know very little of Carr's life until he met up with Jameson and another singer, OV Wright. Wright was the lead singer of one of these Harmony Echoes groups and Jameson was a medical technician at a blood bank, which sounds like it should not be a path to great success in the music industry. But the blood bank was on Beale street and Jameson would let bands use the space to rehearse when it wasn't open. Jameson became the manager of both Wright and Carr, and after speaking to Jim Stewart at Stax Records, who apparently couldn't use them, he took them to see Quinton Claunch. Claunch was a country songwriter and producer who had been an associate of Sam Phillips. He played on a Lot of sun sessions in 1955 and 56, including with Carl Perkins, with whom he also co wrote songs like sure To Fall, which the two co wrote with fiddle player Bill Cantrell.
James Carr
Fall in love, I'm sure to fall in love with you.
Andrew Hickey
You are so.
James Carr
Sweet and we are so near. I'm sure if I.
Andrew Hickey
But that was later covered by the Beatles as a regular part of their live show and was also covered by Ringo Starr on a solo album. Clonch had been inspired by Phillips to start his own label, High Records, and that label would go on to be an important one in the 70s. But early on, Claunch had been forced out of the label by his partners and had spent a few years running a hardware store before starting a new label, Gold Wax, which was just starting up when Jameson came to him in early 1964. Claunch immediately agreed to sign Jameson's two acts, but Goldwax's initial focus was on Right. They put out a single by Right. That's How Strong My Love is written by Jameson.
James Carr
As long as you would kneel Even be the rainbow after my tears are gone I would rock in my color Then I would keep you warm oh, that's how strong that's how strong.
Andrew Hickey
That became a classic of soul music and was covered by both Otis Redding and the Rolling Stones. But Wright soon parted from Jameson and Claunch because he'd been signed to Peacock Records as a gospel singer, and Don Roby pointed out that his contract was still valid. So Goldwax started to concentrate on James Carr. Luckily for Gold Wax, Carr was the man that many consider the greatest soul singer of all time. Carr's first single, you Don't Want Me, is a good track, but doesn't show off his abilities particularly well and wasn't successful. It's very clearly influenced by Ray Charles and by James Brown's early hits, but it was the kind of record that would have been a massive hit in 1958 or 1959, but sounded outdated in 1964.
James Carr
You don't want me. You've been playing me for a while that's all right I found out that you don't want me.
Andrew Hickey
He kept releasing unsuccessful singles for another two years before finally hitting on what would become his trademark style. And that came thanks to Obie McClinton. McClinton was a black man who was at the time trying to make a career as a country singer. He would later have some success. His 1972 album, Obie from Senatobee, a play on Okie from Muskogee, and the town of Senatobia, Mississippi, where he was born, had two country top 40 hits on it. But at the time, he was struggling in much the same way as Carr was. He had released a few singles at that point, one of which, Trading Stamps, was a novelty song written by Claunch, released under the name Oboe.
Obie McClinton
Now some little man with a big brainstorm had a mind for business the day he was born. Trading Stamped was this cat's creation, and, man, has he got them in circulation.
James Carr
Now.
Obie McClinton
My wife, she was looking through a staff catalog, she says, 49 books to get a poodle dog. She said something else man, that made me holler, she says.
Andrew Hickey
Three more bugs and we can McClinton was a superb country songwriter and Carr started recording country songs written by McClinton. We've talked in the main podcast in recent episodes about Grant Parsons idea of cosmic American music blending soul and country, but of course a lot of soul musicians were already doing just that and Carr's version of McClinton's yous've got my Mind Messed Up, a song that's basically a rewrite of that's How Strong My Love Is, became Carr's first and biggest hit, making number seven on the R and B charts, though like all of his records, it didn't do anything on the pop charts.
James Carr
I do anything you want me to do for you I cry out my highest mountain Baby, for you I swam the deepest sea Anywhere you go you can leap on me.
Andrew Hickey
Over the next few years, Carr recorded a series of country flavoured soul classics, all of them from the perspective of someone suffering terribly, and all of them minor R and B hits that made no impression on the pop charts. Like Pouring water on a drowning man. Later in 1966.
James Carr
I guess I missed my calling Cause I should have been a clown how much more could I stand when you pour in water.
Andrew Hickey
And another song by Wright, A Man Needs a woman in 1968.
James Carr
Had a little talk with me she said a woman can be a contrary little thing but son, she mean the whole world to man if I hadn't loved your dad in this way he wouldn't be the big man he is today don't you know A man needs a woman?
Andrew Hickey
But the track by which he became best known was written by Dan Penn and Chips Moman. The two were at a DJ convention in Nashville and had an idea for a song. They asked Claunch if they could use his hotel room to write it in, and Claunch said yes, so long as they were writing a song for James Carr. They wrote it in half an hour and Carr had one of the great classic records of all time. His second and final RB top 10 hit.
James Carr
We have to pay for the love we stole. It's a sin and we know it's wrong oh but our love keeps coming on strong.
Andrew Hickey
Since its release in 1967, that song has been covered by hundreds, possibly thousands of people, including hugely influential artists like Elvis Costello, Richard and Linda Thompson, Frank Black and the Eels. The Flying Burrito Brothers covered it on the Gilded palace of Sin. Every singer's singer has had a go at it across all genres. Roy Hamilton, Porter Wagoner, And Dolly Parton, Linda Ronstadt, Aretha Franklin, Diamanda Gallas and more. And yet, when Dan Penn recorded a live album with Spoon of Oldham in 1999, he introduced the song by saying, people ask me what my favourite version is, as if there were any version other than James Carr's.
James Carr
Please Don't Cry Tonight.
Andrew Hickey
But around the time he recorded that, things started to go wrong for Kara. He was never the most mentally stable of people, and he was also someone it was easy to take advantage of. He had no formal education and was illiterate and had to memorize his lyrics by rote. Everyone involved in his story presents themselves as attempting to protect him, and they may well have been trying to in their own minds. But after he was taken on by Otis Redding's manager, Phil Walden, who promised to make him bigger than reading, his career started to flounder. According to Jameson, months after Carr signed with Walden, he turned up outside Jameson's door, standing in the snow and saying, man, I kept looking for you and looking for you where you been so long? He would apparently still think of Jameson as his manager and would regularly phone him when he got lost at airports or just needed someone to look after him. And he did need someone to look after him. He had always been an introverted, quiet person, but after he was introduced to cannabis, he became severely mentally ill. He seems to have been one of that very small, unlucky group of people who have a bad reaction to psychoactive drugs, and it seems to have triggered real problems for him. He's been described as having bipolar disorder by those who knew him. But whether that was an actual diagnosis or just them latching onto a term they'd heard, I don't know. But by 1969 and his last sessions for Gold Wax, Carr was apparently nearly catatonic and would sit in the studio just staring into space for three hours while Klaunch begged him to do anything at all before suddenly turning in a perfect vocal performance, as on his version of the Bee Gees To Love Somebody, recorded at Muscle Shoals with Duane Allman on guitar.
James Carr
What good will it bring if I can't happen? If I can't happen? Baby, you don't know what it's like. You don't know what it like to love somebody to love somebody the way I love you?
Andrew Hickey
Carr was the only act on Gold Wax to have any success, and with his own problems getting worse, the label eventually folded. He signed to Atlantic, but only released one single. He spent much of the 1970s in and out of mental hospital and didn't release anything between 1970 and 1977 when he put out one single on a tiny label which appears never to have released anything else at all, but which showed that he still had his voice.
James Carr
All the people go by.
Andrew Hickey
That tiny label was owned by Jameson, who by this point was Carr's manager again. And Jameson arranged a tour of Japan for Carr, a tour that came to an ignominious end when on one show Carr just stood on stage and didn't sing at all. For the next few years, Carr would live with his sister. By all accounts, he was capable of functioning so long as somebody else was looking after him and his sister took charge of his life. He also got married at some point and had children. But by the mid-80s that marriage was well and truly over. There's a terribly depressing interview, I believe the only recorded audio interview with him from the mid-80s, where he talks to the DJ Andy Kershaw about how he's thinking of remarrying his ex wife. That interview was to promote a compilation of his 60s classics. And that compilation, along with the near simultaneous publication of Peter Gowalnik's History of the Genre. Sweet soul music, turned Carr from a marginal forgotten figure into someone who was regarded by lovers of Southern soul as the greatest singer in the genre's history. Claunch relaunched Gold Wax Records and Carr recorded two further albums for the new version of his old label. Those albums are not great. The backing tracks have all the worst production faults of the late 80s and early 90s and sound cheap. But the voice is still there.
James Carr
Said I wouldn't make it but here I am today I'm a soul survivor and I'm still around I'm still around I'm a soul survivor, you just need me for the soul man down.
Andrew Hickey
The music journalist Robert Gordon was present for some of those sessions and he talked in his articles about how Carr's performances had to sometimes be pieced together line by line, as he often didn't know what he was singing. And Gordon seems to have felt that there was a lot of ambiguity as to the motives of Claunch and his associates. They seemed to have been telling themselves that they were helping Carr possibly finally achieve the success he deserved, but also to possibly have seen him as someone who was easily manipulable and a potential gold mine. Carr's mental problems continued to be as bad as ever, though he was able to function when medicated. But part of his condition involved him simply forgetting to take his medication and Claunch soon left the company again, and Carr's brief return to having a career ended, his reputation continued to grow. Barney Hoskins book, say It One Time for the Broken Hearted, a study of the links between country and soul music, like Goralnik's book before it positioned Carr as a central figure. But he largely gave up performing, especially after 1997, when he had a lung removed after a diagnosis of lung cancer that seemed to make his mental health have a turn for the worse, and his sister had him committed to a psychiatric hospital, where he remained until being transferred to a nursing home shortly before his death from cancer in 2001. James Carr had a heartbreakingly sad life, one that was even sadder than the protagonists of the songs he sang so well. But in the songs he recorded between 1964 and 1970, he left behind an untouchable legacy, one that's unforgettable to those who have heard it at all.
James Carr
Was Way Will He Swell in the Spell.
Host: Andrew Hickey
Release Date: July 13, 2024
In this special episode of A History of Rock Music in 500 Songs, host Andrew Hickey delves into the life and legacy of James Carr, a soul music luminary often hailed as the genre's greatest singer. As part of Pledge Week 2024, Hickey shares exclusive Patreon content, offering listeners a deeper understanding of Carr's profound impact on soul music despite his tragic and tumultuous life.
Hickey begins by reminiscing about Beatin Rhythm, a Manchester city center record shop that played a pivotal role in his musical education. Although the shop later relocated to a less accessible suburb, it remained a sanctuary for serious music aficionados. Specializing in classic soul, sunshine pop, psychedelia, and freakbeat, Beatin Rhythm was instrumental in expanding Hickey's musical horizons during a time when online access to music was limited.
“It was the kind of place where I'd pick up collections by people I've mentioned in the podcast...Keith Colley. That kind of record shop is used to people coming in and picking up weird and obscure records.” (00:00)
The store's atmosphere, catering to passionate collectors rather than casual listeners, allowed Hickey to discover influential and obscure artists alike. His frequent visits, particularly to explore James Carr's limited discography, set the stage for this episode's focus.
James Carr, though not as widely recognized as peers like Otis Redding or Aretha Franklin, holds a revered position among enthusiasts of 1960s soul music. Known as “the world's greatest soul singer”, Carr's vocal prowess was unmatched, even if his live performances lacked the dynamic energy typical of other soul artists.
“He was not someone who could do intense dance moves or would fall to his knees dripping with sweat. He was, just, as far as anyone who heard him was concerned, the best soul singer in the world.” (00:00)
Carr's reputation within the soul community was profound, despite limited mainstream success and a scarcity of detailed biographical information.
Carr's early life remains largely shrouded in mystery, with conflicting accounts about his involvement in gospel groups. While some sources attribute him to the Soul Stirrers, evidence suggests this claim was fabricated by his manager, Roosevelt Jamieson. More plausible is his association with one of the Harmony Echoes groups, particularly through his collaboration with OV Wright.
“He seems to have sung with various gospel groups as a young man, but nobody seems sure on which ones.” (03:51)
His introduction to Jameson and Wright marked the beginning of his professional music career. Jameson, a medical technician at a blood bank on Beale Street, became Carr’s manager, facilitating collaborations that would eventually lead to his signing with Gold Wax Records.
Carr's initial forays into the music industry were fraught with challenges. His first single, “You Don't Want Me”, failed to capture the essence of his vocal abilities, blending influences from Ray Charles and early James Brown in a sound that felt outdated by 1964.
“It was the kind of record that would have been a massive hit in 1958 or 1959, but sounded outdated in 1964.” (08:23)
Over the next two years, Carr released several singles that struggled to find commercial success. It wasn't until his collaboration with country songwriter Obie McClinton that Carr began to develop his distinctive style, blending soul with country influences.
Obie McClinton, a talented yet struggling country songwriter, played a crucial role in shaping Carr's sound. Their partnership led to Carr recording country-flavored soul classics, characterized by heartfelt lyrics and powerful emotional delivery.
“McClinton was a superb country songwriter and Carr started recording country songs written by McClinton.” (09:56)
This fusion genre, sometimes referred to as cosmic American music, predated but aligned with Grant Parsons' later conceptualization. Carr's rendition of McClinton's “You’ve Got My Mind Messed Up” became his first significant hit, reaching number seven on the R&B charts.
“It's essentially a rewrite of 'That's How Strong My Love Is,' became Carr's first and biggest hit, making number seven on the R&B charts.” (10:45)
Jameson introduced Carr to Quinton Claunch, a former associate of Sam Phillips and founder of Gold Wax Records. Claunch signed Carr, recognizing his unparalleled vocal talent. Under Gold Wax, Carr released a series of soulful tracks that solidified his status in the soul music scene.
His second hit, “Dark End of the Street,” written by Dan Penn and Chips Moman, became a soul classic, covered by numerous artists across genres. Hickey highlights the song's enduring legacy, noting René Penn's preference for Carr's original version.
“Dan Penn...as if there were any version other than James Carr's.” (14:59)
Despite critical acclaim, Carr's success remained confined to the R&B charts, with limited crossover into the mainstream pop scene. Nevertheless, his work during this period established him as a cornerstone of Southern soul music.
Tragically, Carr's burgeoning career was overshadowed by severe mental health issues and substance abuse. Introduced to cannabis, Carr experienced a profound decline, exhibiting symptoms consistent with bipolar disorder. His mental instability made him vulnerable to manipulation, complicating his professional relationships and career trajectory.
“He had always been an introverted, quiet person, but after he was introduced to cannabis, he became severely mentally ill.” (15:45)
By 1969, Carr's performances suffered as he grappled with his condition, leading to erratic studio sessions and inconsistent releases. Despite his struggles, his vocal talent remained evident, as showcased in his rendition of the Bee Gees' “To Love Somebody.”
After Gold Wax Records folded, Carr signed briefly with Atlantic Records but only released a single before his career stalled entirely. The 1970s saw him in and out of mental hospitals, with sporadic attempts to return to music, including a failed tour of Japan where he failed to perform.
Despite these personal challenges, Carr's legacy endured through posthumous recognition. Compilation albums and scholarly works by authors like Peter Guralnick and Barney Hoskins reestablished Carr as a seminal figure in soul music. However, his later recordings on the relaunched Gold Wax label were marred by poor production quality, though his remarkable voice remained intact.
“Carr had a heartbreakingly sad life, one that was even sadder than the protagonists of the songs he sang so well.” (18:23)
Towards the end of his life, Carr's health further deteriorated due to lung cancer, leading to his hospitalization and eventual transfer to a nursing home, where he passed away in 2001. His story underscores the tragic intersection of immense artistic talent and personal vulnerability.
James Carr's story is one of unparalleled vocal genius overshadowed by personal turmoil and systemic neglect. Despite a limited discography, his recordings from 1964 to 1970 left an indelible mark on soul music, inspiring countless artists and earning him the title of the genre's greatest singer among aficionados.
“But in the songs he recorded between 1964 and 1970, he left behind an untouchable legacy, one that's unforgettable to those who have heard it at all.” (20:15)
Andrew Hickey's exploration of Carr's life not only honors his musical contributions but also serves as a poignant reminder of the fragile humanity behind legendary artistry.
Andrew Hickey (03:22): "He's not someone who comes up in discussions the way that people like Otis Redding or Aretha Franklin do, but among people who are interested in the soul music of the 60s, he is considered peerless and gets spoken about with awe the way few others do."
James Carr (05:45): "Sweet and we are so near. I'm sure if I..."
Obie McClinton (09:26): "Trading Stamped was this cat's creation, and, man, has he got them in circulation."
James Carr (12:13): "A man needs a woman."
Andrew Hickey (17:24): "James Carr had a heartbreakingly sad life, one that was even sadder than the protagonists of the songs he sang so well."
Timestamp References:
This summary captures the essence of Andrew Hickey's exploration of James Carr's life and music, providing listeners with a comprehensive understanding of Carr's artistic brilliance and the profound challenges he faced.