In these pieces, many expanded from their original versions, songwriters and performers speak in their own voices, edited from interviews with Myers, about one of their signature songs. Because of Myers's skill as an interviewer, their pride and enthusiasm come blasting through. Each story is a pleasure to read and will deepen your listening experience. Which is saying something. If you're a serious music fan—and who else would be reading this book?—you might initially wonder what's left for you to learn about such chestnuts as the Isley Brothers' Shout, the Allman Brothers' Ramblin' Man or Pink Floyd's Another Brick in the Wall. Turns out to be plenty—not so much in terms of eye-popping new information (though there's some of that), but in the depth and feeling of the tales of artistic inspiration.
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Anatomy of a Song: The Oral History of 45 Iconic Hits That Changed Rock, R&B and Pop
Narrated by Jonathan Yen
Marc MyersUnabridged — 9 hours, 34 minutes
Anatomy of a Song: The Oral History of 45 Iconic Hits That Changed Rock, R&B and Pop
Narrated by Jonathan Yen
Marc MyersUnabridged — 9 hours, 34 minutes
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Overview
Editorial Reviews
08/08/2016
Four years ago, Myers launched his “Anatomy of a Song” column in the Wall Street Journal, and he offers this mostly interesting but hardly hit-making collection of previously published columns. Like many pop songs, the structure is pretty simple. Myers (Why Jazz Happened) provides a new introduction to the songs, which were written between 1952 and 1991, setting each in its cultural context, as well as indicating its historical significance. For example, according to Myers, in the late 1980s R.E.M. thrived in a growing alternative music scene in which listeners developed deep personal attachments to bands that were singing about issues that concerned them. Following these introductions, Myers then turns the mike over to the artists, writers, musicians, and producers behind each song, who tell us about the stories behind it. Many artists are reflective: Bonnie Raitt says that writing her hit “Nick of Time” gave her a “sense of confidence and self-awareness that helped break through some stifling self-doubt.” Some point out that we can invest too much meaning in simple lyrics, as when Mick Jagger reminds us that his song “Moonlight Mile” is “definitely not about cocaine.” Some, like the Marvelettes’ lead singer, Katherine “Kat” Anderson Schaffner, reveal a song’s origins: “Please Mr. Postman” was an unfinished blues song written by William Garrett about a “nice postman in our projects” that the group finished and then recorded. Music fans will enjoy the behind-the-songs stories, but the book would have been even more compelling if Myers had provided a clearer sense of why he selected these songs and not others, and why songwriters such as Bob Dylan are glaringly absent from the collection. (Nov.)
Praise for Anatomy of a Song:
An Amazon Best Book of the Month in Nonfiction
A finalist for The Association for Recorded Sound Collections Awards for Excellence
“In these pieces . . . songwriters and performers speak in their own voices, edited from interviews with Myers, about one of their signature songs. Because of Myers's skill as an interviewer, their pride and enthusiasm come blasting through. Each story is a pleasure to read and will deepen your listening experience . . . Myers bears down hard on these songs and the artists rise to the standards he sets.”—Anthony DeCurtis, New York Times Book Review
“A first-rate playlist . . . A rich history of both the music industry and the baby boomer era.”—Los Angeles Times Book Review
“Marc Myers’s Anatomy of a Song [is] a winning look at the stories behind 45 pop, punk, folk, soul and country classics . . . A smart, gracious book. His interviews yield some fascinating details.”—Washington Post
“Candid conversations with stars like Stevie Wonder, Keith Richards and Rod Stewart are collected in a new book called Anatomy of a Song . . . In the pre-digital age of analog recording, Myers discovered some remarkable examples of mechanical ingenuity. Two of my favorites: Kinks guitarist Dave Davies had just learned how to shave when he bought a new amp and decided to use a razor blade to slash the amp’s speaker cone. And when the Doors were told to shorten the seven-minute version of Light My Fire for a single that would get more radio play, their producer Paul Rothchild ‘wrapped Scotch tape around the spindle holding the pickup reel, so the tape would turn a fraction faster’ . . . Myers is particularly good on the competition within bands and between them to produce the best possible songs . . . [A] splendid volume.”—Charles Kaiser, Guardian (UK)
“A music lover’s dream book.”—Cleveland Plain Dealer
“Anatomy of a Song . . . reads like a dream karaoke playlist. Not a dud in sight.”—Huffington Post
“Anatomy Of A Song . . . gets the lowdown on about forty years of hits straight from the artists’ mouths . . . It’s always cool to hear how the musical sausage gets made, especially when it’s made by geniuses in the field. But Myers also does an outstanding job of unearthing the moments of humor and heartbreak that accompanied the creation of these songs.”—American Songwriter
“Who would’ve ever guessed the inspiration behind Gladys Knight’s soul-stirring ‘Midnight Train to Georgia’ was ’70s pinup queen Farrah Fawcett? That’s just one of the fascinating song histories revealed in the new book Anatomy of a Song.”—New York Post
“Myers . . . uncovers the fascinating backstories behind many legendary songs that changed the trajectory of music . . . Culling together anecdotal revelations about happy accidents, deliberately vague lyrical choices and unexpected lapses of confidence, the book manages to both demystify and humanize so many of its iconic subjects. . . . Filled with surprises for music fans and aspiring songwriters alike.”—BMI Music
“Who doesn’t like to listen to musicians tell their stories about the genesis of a song? Or to hear them laugh at the deep meaning that listeners often invest in it when for them it was, well, just a song about a breakup? Myers’ book has something for everyone.”—No Depression
“The short, sharp chapters breeze by like a particularly well-curated jukebox . . . Fast, fun and informative.”—Houston Press
“The critical ability of Marc Myers shows in his selection of topics and his persistence in hunting down the right people to talk about their songs. But his talent as a writer shows in his willingness to get out of the way and let them talk about their songs . . . Myers pushes his subjects to recollect what had really happened that day in the studio, that moment when the song first came to mind, that instant when the radio began to play it.”— Washington Free Beacon
“Countless fun facts dot Anatomy of a Song.”—Billboard
“Myers’ book succeeds as a collection because he reveals the paradox of popular music: the magical change that transpires once the personal becomes public . . . Perhaps the greatest gift of Anatomy of a Song is its range . . . This is a book that encourages you to go back into your record collection, to the hits you think you remember well.”—Las Vegas Weekly
“Myers' . . . work is archival. It is important. It is illuminating.”—Under the Radar
“A detailed look at 45 iconic popular songs . . . This will entice general readers and music lovers alike. In his introduction, Myers calls the book an ‘oral history jukebox,’ and popular-music fans everywhere will want to be ready with a pocketful of dimes.”—Booklist
“A compelling compendium of behind-the-scenes shop talk that will excite even the most casual music geek.”—Bookreporter
“A cultural history of the elusive hit single, focused on artists' recollections and studio alchemy . . . The book's strength lies in thoughtful, wry reflections from artists including Elvis Costello, Jimmy Cliff, Stevie Wonder, Booker T. Jones, Dr. John, and Debbie Harry. An entertaining record of the soundtrack of the baby boomer era.”—Kirkus Reviews
“Music fans will enjoy the behind-the-songs stories.”—Publishers Weekly
03/01/2017
From Lloyd Price's "Lawdy Miss Clawdy" in 1952, to R.E.M's "Losing My Religion" in 1991, the stories behind 45 popular hits are shared by Myers, who expanded several columns he originally wrote for the Wall Street Journal. Creators behind each song take turns describing the emotions, techniques, and lucky breaks that went into the process; however, what works on the page is harder to render in an audiobook, as narrator Jonathan Yen's character work isn't distinctive enough to prevent a certain sameness setting in after a while. Also, since no snippets of the original recordings are included, the listener must fall back on other resources to recall the songs mentioned. VERDICT Despite all that, a book inclusive enough to represent artists ranging from Loretta Lynn to Pink Floyd to The Clash does have merit. Recommended for larger libraries. ["Most of the author's oral histories are informative and entertaining. Recommended for libraries with a popular music section.": LJ 9/15/16 review of the Grove hc.]--Kelly Sinclair, Temple P.L., TX
09/15/2016
This books compiles Wall Street Journal columns by Myers (Why Jazz Happened) that use the popular oral history format to examine the creation of some of rock, R&B, and pop's most important songs. The book covers 45 songs, starting in 1952 (Lloyd Price's "Lawdy Miss Clawdy") to 1991 (R.E.M.'s "Losing My Religion"). Mainstream hits (like The Dixie Cups' "Chapel of Love") are given equal time with album cuts (such as Stevie Wonder's "Love's in Need of Love Today" from Songs in the Key of Life) and countercultural classics ("White Rabbit" by Jefferson Airplane, "London Calling" by The Clash). The most compelling entries include Joni Mitchell's "Carey," which carries (forgive the pun) an interview with the song's inspiration, Cary Raditz, and the cross-cultural tale of Aerosmith's "Walk This Way" (which later became an even bigger hit when the band collaborated with the important early rap group Run-D.M.C. in 1986). One may quibble with some of Myers's song selections: Why "Mercedes Benz" by Janis Joplin instead of "Me and Bobby McGee," or "Big City" by Merle Haggard and not "Mama Tried"? Still, most of the author's oral histories are informative and entertaining. VERDICT Recommended for libraries with a popular music section.—Brian Flota, James Madison Univ., Harrisonburg, VA
Oral histories are ideal audiobook material. Jonathan Yen energetically takes the listener on a journey into Myers’s list of 45 popular songs released between 1952 and 1991 that changed musical history. Yen has a verve and approachability that is reminiscent of Kasey Kasem counting down the hits. Radio play was everything! Each song is placed in its cultural and historical context, followed by interviews of key players. Yen makes it easy to make the transition from context to oral history, and he, thankfully, does not try to take on hundreds of accents. There are lots of fascinating factoids—Gladys Knight’s classic began as "Midnight Train to Houston"; Janis Joplin’s "Mercedes Benz" was a poem. It’s the nature of the thing to wonder at the omissions of the Beatles, Springsteen, Queen, Dylan, and countless others. A.B. © AudioFile 2017, Portland, Maine
2016-08-09
A cultural history of the elusive hit single, focused on artists’ recollections and studio alchemy.In 2011, Myers (Why Jazz Happened, 2012) began the Wall Street Journal’s “Anatomy of a Song,” which focused on “dramatic stories” of creativity. “I realized the column would be better served as an oral history,” he writes, “with the stories told through songwriters’ and artists’ own words.” The resulting book is “a five-decade oral history of rhythm & blues, rock and pop.” Choosing 45 representational songs that topped the charts or were otherwise prominent, the author chronicles American pop from about 1952 to 1991, the era when radio could effectively “break” a song. Developing this overall narrative, Myers provides several paragraphs of context for the moment in which a song arrived, then switches to recollections of artists and producers. It’s a clever concept that becomes repetitive. Still, his interview subjects are well-chosen, and the excerpts provide insight on the constantly changing technology and industry behind the hits. Initially, pop music was segregated and viewed as marginally profitable, allowing regional scenes to become suddenly prominent, as with the Marvelettes’ “Please Mr. Postman.” As vocalist Kat Schaffner recalls, “Motown wanted a No. 1 pop hit, but [nobody] expected that five girls from Inkster [Michigan] were going to give it to them.” While musicians like Keith Richards took advantage of new recording technologies (“Street Fighting Man”), the record industry was gradually losing control, as a reliance on “tightly controlled singles, with albums functioning merely as collections of these short records,” gave way to the creative demands of groups like Led Zeppelin. Myers ably discusses such fluctuations within the cultural landscape during the 1960s and ’70s, though he still tends toward generalizations—e.g., “Punk rock in New York had run its course by the 1970s.” The book’s strength lies in thoughtful, wry reflections from artists including Elvis Costello, Jimmy Cliff, Stevie Wonder, Booker T. Jones, Dr. John, and Debbie Harry. An entertaining record of the soundtrack of the baby boomer era.
Product Details
| BN ID: | 2940171332693 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | HighBridge Company |
| Publication date: | 11/01/2016 |
| Edition description: | Unabridged |
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
Lawdy Miss Clawdy
LLOYD PRICE
Released: April 1952
Up until the early 1950s, records were marketed primarily to adults who could afford phonographs. Pre-teens and teens had radios and jukeboxes, but much of the music they heard reflected adult tastes. The turning point came in 1949, when RCA introduced the 45 — a virtually unbreakable vinyl disc with a large hole in the center. At first, RCA used the 45 to compete against Columbia's 33 1/3 album, which had been unveiled a year earlier. To take on its rival, RCA sold multiple 45s for each album and manufactured a special phonograph that could drop a stack of 45s individually onto the turntable, each one playing in turn. But by 1951, RCA realized that its efforts on behalf of the 45 were impractical compared with the ease of Columbia's LP, a format that quickly became the industry's preferred standard for albums. But the 45 had a bright future. In 1952, the jukebox industry announced it would begin replacing the heavy 78 with the lighter and more durable 45. Since most R&B recordings were heard on jukeboxes, that genre soon rolled over onto the 45.
R&B was also greatly helped by a second innovation — the magnetic-tape recorder, which began replacing the clunky "cutting" stylus and wax disc in recording studios in 1948. Tape improved fidelity; lowered the cost of recording, since music could be recorded, erased, and rerecorded on the same reel; and made musicians' mistakes easier to fix through splicing. As a result, less accomplished musicians were able to record, boosting the number of R&B recording artists in the early 1950s. Tape also enabled executives at small independent labels to travel the country with portable recorders in search of new talent. One of those executives was Art Rupe, owner of Specialty Records, a Los Angeles R&B and gospel label.
In early 1952, Rupe arrived in New Orleans, home of pianist Fats Domino, who had already recorded three R&B hit singles. Rupe traveled to New Orleans hoping to find other musicians with Domino's magic but instead wound up auditioning a nineteen-year-old singer named Lloyd Price, who was introduced to him by local bandleader and arranger Dave Bartholomew. In March, Rupe recorded Price singing an original song — "Lawdy Miss Clawdy" — with Domino on piano. The song became one of the first R&B recordings to dryly emphasize the second and fourth beats without the more common boogie-woogie jump-blues flourish found in songs such as "Rocket 88" (1951). After "Lawdy Miss Clawdy" was released in April 1952, it spent seven weeks at No. 1 on Billboard's R&B chart, becoming an early template for teen-directed rock 'n' roll.
Interviews with LLOYD PRICE (singer), DAVE BARTHOLOMEW (producer and arranger), ART RUPE (Specialty Records owner)
LLOYD PRICE: I grew up in Kenner, Louisiana, a rural suburb of New Orleans. As a child, I took a few trumpet lessons, but taught myself to sing and play piano. By the time I was seventeen, in 1950, I had a band and was singing at local clubs. We covered R&B jukebox hits, like "Blue Moon," "Good Rockin' Tonight," and "Honey Hush."
My mother was a great cook and owned a popular sandwich shop in Kenner called Beatrice's Fish 'n' Fry. I went there to eat and play the beat-up old piano she kept there. I was hoping to write and record a song that she could put in her jukebox. I hoped that fame would be my bus ticket out of town. The bigotry down there was unbelievable then.
One day, I was listening to WBOK and heard a black radio announcer named James "Okey Dokey" Smith, who had his own twenty-minute show. Okey Dokey's appeal was his funny way of grabbing your ear. He'd say things like, "Lawdy, Miss Clawdy, eat your mother's homemade pies and drink Maxwell House instant coffee." Maxwell House was his only sponsor.
I liked that line — "Lawdy Miss Clawdy." Days later, I was with my band at Morgan's, a club in Kenner, when I began fooling around on the piano with Okey Dokey's line. At some point, Okey Dokey came into the club and wandered over to where I was playing. He said, "Hey, you're doing my thing from the radio." He gave me a pat on the head and walked off.
Around this time, my girlfriend, Nellie, broke up with me. I was crushed. At my mom's sandwich shop, I was playing the piano and working on my song, "Lawdy Miss Clawdy," with pitiful sorrow in my voice. Halfway through, I just stopped in frustration. A customer asked what I was playing. I told him without turning around. He told me to play it again and sing all the words. When I finished, I looked up. Dave Bartholomew was standing next to me. I nearly fell off my chair.
Dave was one of the most important musicians in New Orleans back in the late 1940s and early '50s. He was a trumpeter, composer, arranger, and bandleader. He played all the black proms and big clubs. He also was a huge figure in the recording studios as an R&B producer.
DAVE BARTHOLOMEW: I had dropped in to get a sandwich when I heard Lloyd playing that piano. The feeling in his voice caught me. It was completely original. Art Rupe, the owner of Specialty Records, a gospel label in Los Angeles, was holding an audition in a few weeks in New Orleans for young singers. I thought Lloyd should come by and sing his song.
PRICE: When Dave told me I had a shot at recording, I couldn't believe it. Dave had cowritten, arranged, and played on Fats Domino's "The Fat Man," a big R&B hit in 1950. "Lawdy Miss Clawdy" sounded like it, but with a younger feel.
Weeks later, Dave called and told me to come down the next day to Cosimo Matassa's J&M Recording Studio on New Orleans' Rampart Street. That was like telling me to get on a plane and fly someplace. I had never been to the French Quarter. Fortunately I knew a bus driver who let me ride for free, and he directed me to the studio. At J&M, seven or eight musicians were there, and Dave was explaining how my song would go. Art was there, too. He loved gospel growing up in Pittsburgh and was trying to bring gospel singing together with an R&B beat.
ART RUPE: I had gone out to Hollywood in the early 1940s with hopes of becoming a writer for radio and film. I started my first R&B record label, Juke Box, in 1944, but changed the name to Specialty in 1946. By 1948, Specialty also was recording gospel, which soon had a big influence on R&B.
I went to New Orleans in '52 because I liked the Creole sound down there, particularly on Fats Domino's recordings. I wanted to emulate the sound. Cosimo owned the big R&B studio in town and put me in touch with Dave [Bartholomew]. At the audition, Lloyd was the only one who impressed me, based on the commercial potential of "Lawdy Miss Clawdy." Lloyd's voice and the way he sold it had gospel's intensity. Lloyd was nervous and shy, but he sang with such sincerity and passion that I decided to record him.
PRICE: When it was time to record "Lawdy Miss Clawdy," Fats Domino arrived and took over the piano. He started playing a boogie-woogie, but Dave stopped him. He wanted something different. So instead of playing boogie-woogie, Fats played the introduction like a tinkling piano roll. To this day, nobody has ever played that intro like Fats did that day.
Then drummer Earl Palmer came in and I started singing, with the horns and rhythm section behind me. Earl's beat was complex. He was hitting the second and fourth beats hard on the snare but also adding a 6/8 figure on the cymbal, picking up on Fats's piano triplets. The rest of Dave's band included Ernest McLean on guitar, Frank Fields on bass, Herbert Hardesty on tenor sax, Joe Harris on alto sax, and Jack Willis was on trumpet. There was no sheet music — it was all in their heads. We called it "padding" — the horns playing held notes behind me while I sang.
BARTHOLOMEW: Before Lloyd arrived for the audition, the band did a few run-downs to polish and tighten it up. We had a great time recording "Lawdy," but it was work to get it done just right.
PRICE: After the first take, Dave decided I needed a second verse, to turn the song into a story. I quickly wrote: "Because I gave you all my money/Girl, but you just won't treat me right/You like to ball in the mornin'/Don't come back till late at night." It wasn't hard. That's what my friends and I did all day — we'd make up lyrics. After we recorded this section, it was spliced in on the tape to lengthen the song.
When we finished, Art said, "Sounds great. What's the B-side?" I didn't know I needed to write a song for the record's other side. So I had to come up with something. With Fats playing a boogie-woogie, I wrote the lyrics for "Mailman Blues," which was really a jam session with solos. I was expecting my draft notice any day, so the lyrics related to that.
RUPE: I recorded Lloyd's songs on a two-track Magnecord tape recorder. Dave's arrangement and the musicians gave Lloyd's vocal greater urgency. Lloyd's soulful singing style had authenticity and would connect with teens who listened to the growing number of R&B radio stations.
PRICE: When we were done, there was no playback of the tape. That was it. The first time I heard myself on the record was four weeks later. I was helping my father and brother install a septic tank in our backyard. The radio was playing, and Okey Dokey announced my song. My brother looked up and said, "Hey, don't you have a song like that?" At the end, Okey announced my name. I felt like I was flying.
Even more remarkable was what Art did for me. If you wrote a blues or R&B song back then, you were lucky if you got credit for it. If you did, you often shared the credit with others who had nothing to do with it. They were on there just to feed off the royalties.
Art was different. He listed me as the sole writer, which is amazing when I think back on it. He had published the song, so he kept the publishing rights, but everything else on the writing side was mine.
RUPE: It never occurred to me to put my name on Lloyd's composition or that of any other songwriter. To do so would have been theft. My contribution was my role as record producer, publisher, and manager of the creative process. That's it.
PRICE: When the record came out, my mother opened her jukebox, moved all the records down one, and put "Lawdy Miss Clawdy" in the A-1 button spot. After that, every girl in Kenner wanted to ride in my car.
CHAPTER 2K.C. Loving
LITTLE WILLIE LITTLEFIELD
Released: Late 1952
In the summer of 1952, about 40 percent of all R&B records sold in Southern California were being bought by white teens, thanks largely to the region's growing number of independent radio stations. Teens cared little about the race or ethnicity of artists and more about a song's beat and feeling. They also were attracted to the energy and endurance of R&B instrumentalists such as saxophonists "Big Jay" McNeely, Red Prysock, Paul Williams, and Joe Houston. As television caught on faster than expected in the early 1950s, the Federal Communications Commission began issuing a greater number of radio licenses to independently owned stations to ensure that radio remained competitive. Many of these new, smaller radio stations played R&B records.
Few songs better illustrate the fickle R&B market in the early 1950s than "K.C. Loving." As Los Angeles became an R&B recording center, songwriters Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller found themselves with plenty of opportunity. R&B recording sessions needed not only songs but also musicians, arrangements, and overall management to ensure efficiency. Late in the summer of '52, Leiber and Stoller wrote "Kansas City," a bluesy coming-of-age song. At the last minute, Federal Records decided to change their title to "K.C. Loving," thinking it would better connect with African-American record buyers than just the name of the city. But when the single by Little Willie Littlefield was released at the end of '52, it failed to chart and soon faded away.
Seven years later, in 1959, little-known singer-pianist Wilbert Harrison recorded the song as a relaxed stroll with a shuffle beat. Retitled "Kansas City," the single featured finger-popping vocal phrasing by Harrison and a twangy electric guitar solo. The single shot to No. 1 on Billboard's pop and R&B charts, and it was followed by several additional cover versions, illustrating how timing and tweaking could turn a forgotten R&B song into a sensation. "Kansas City" was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 2001 and though it may have been the bigger hit, it's hard to beat Maxwell Davis's tenor saxophone solo on "K.C. Loving."
Interviews with MIKE STOLLER (cowriter), BILLY DAVIS (guitarist with Hank Ballard and the Midnighters), and ALFRED "PEE WEE" ELLIS(saxophonist and arranger with James Brown)
MIKE STOLLER: I was still living at home in L.A. with my parents when Jerry [Leiber] and I wrote "K.C. Loving." We were both nineteen and had been writing together since 1950. Los Angeles back in '52 was a frenzy of R&B artists. Small record companies like Federal constantly needed songs. The guy who ran Federal was Ralph Bass, and he had us write for artists like Little Esther and Etta James. We'd teach them our songs and then they'd record them. Everything happened fast.
One day, Bass asked us to write a song about Kansas City for Little Willie Littlefield. Kansas City was the home of swing, jazz, and the blues — music that Jerry and I loved. It also was known as a pretty wild place. So Jerry and I set to work at my folks' house at 1444 South Norton Avenue. Off the living room they had a separate alcove with a sliding door and an upright piano. Jerry would come over and write lyrics while pacing back and forth, and I'd experiment with melodies to go with them.
We asked a bunch of R&B musicians for the names of big streets in Kansas City. When we heard that 12th Street and Vine was a hot part of town, we used it. After Jerry finished the lyrics, I wrote a blues with a melody. Jerry wanted the blues to be more traditional — the kind a blues shouter might sing. I wanted a recognizable melody so if it was recorded as an instrumental, it would still be identified as ours.
We argued about the music until I finally said, "Who's writing the music, you or me?" Jerry gave in. After we finished, we played "Kansas City" for Bass. He loved the song and told us to teach it to Little Willie Littlefield. We already knew saxophonist-arranger Maxwell Davis, so we all met at his house in South Central L.A. In those days, Max ran recording sessions for Federal, Modern, Aladdin, and lots of other independent R&B labels — before the title "producer" was even invented.
When Jerry and I arrived at his house, Little Willie was already there. I sang and played the song for him. Usually, Jerry showed artists how to phrase the lyrics, but in this case I wanted to make sure Willie heard how we wanted the music to wrap around the words. Then Willie and I sang and played the song at the same time until he had it down.
We cut the single at Radio Recorders with Federal's engineer Val Valentin. Little Willie was on piano and Max was on tenor sax. Max's boogie-woogie arrangement had a great groove, like a train heading for Kansas City. He didn't really need our help in the studio, but Jerry and I went anyway to make sure Little Willie got the melody and lyrics right. Just over a minute into the record, Little Willie shouted, "All right, Max!" — signaling to Max to take his sax solo. It was a great touch.
Jerry and I had originally called the song "Kansas City," but Federal had the publishing rights. Bass said, "You know what's hip? 'K.C.' is hip. I'm going to change the title." So Bass renamed it "K.C. Loving." There wasn't much we could do. We thought changing the title was dumb since there was no change in the music or lyrics. I also thought the new title was too obscure and probably would keep the song from being recorded by other artists. I was right — for seven years.
By 1959, Jerry and I had relocated to New York to write and produce the Coasters and other artists. One day, tenor saxophonist King Curtis came into the studio to record on a session and said to us, "Hey, y'all got a hit. It's 'Kansas City.'" Curtis had been the session leader at Fury Records on Wilbert Harrison's recording, even though he didn't play on it. Apparently Harrison had been singing it in clubs for years.
Harrison changed part of Jerry's lyrics from "They've got a crazy way of loving there and I'm gonna get me some" to "They got some crazy little women there and I'm gonna get me one." Maybe Fury Records' Bobby Robinson thought our lyrics were too risqué. The new lyrics didn't rhyme perfectly and Jerry and I liked perfect rhymes. But in the history of the blues, messing around with lyrics was common, so we let it go. But there was another problem.
While we liked that Fury used our original title — "Kansas City" — the initial release didn't credit us. They apparently didn't know who had written the song, and didn't care. We showed them Little Willie's single, and the songwriting credit was fixed. Within weeks, six new singles of "Kansas City" came out — including versions by Hank Ballard and the Midnighters and Little Richard.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Anatomy of a Song"
by .
Copyright © 2016 Marc Myers.
Excerpted by permission of Grove Atlantic, Inc..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
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