Chicapah
I have no problem placing Lou Rawls in the same category of pioneers such as Ray Charles, Louis Armstrong and Nat King Cole when it comes to black jazz vocalists who were able to crossover into the mainstream at a time when the United States was still a very segregated and color-biased country. It seemed easier to do that if you were appealing to the young baby boomers through the magic of rock & roll as Chuck Berry, Little Richard and others were doing. But the adult contemporary scene in the early 60s was much more exclusive and hard to crack. It took more than comical duck walks and wild-eyed wails to coerce many in the white community to overlook their ignorant racism and accept artists like Rawls as being not just marginally acceptable but worthy of respect. Lou’s rich baritone was simply too enticing and pleasing to ignore, however, and he became a household name in American society over a relatively short span of time. None other than Frank Sinatra once said that in his prime Rawls “had the classiest singing and the silkiest chops in the singing game.” Lofty praise, indeed.
Born and raised on the south side of Chicago where his gospel roots were sown, he eventually relocated to Los Angeles in the mid 50s. After a stint as a paratrooper in the Army he toured the south with Sam Cooke as a member of the Pilgrim Travelers. He was almost killed in a bad automobile accident while on the road but he made a miraculous recovery, later saying that the near-death incident changed his outlook on life drastically. He went back to California and started appearing in hip nightclubs like the Troubadour where he was discovered by Capitol Records and signed to a contract in 1962. After a single failed to chart Lou talked the label into letting him record an album of jazz and blues standards with Les McCann Ltd., a local trio he’d heard and was impressed with. The result was this, Rawls’ debut LP. One of the advantages of attending a university with a reputable jazz program like North Texas State was the plethora of cheap vinyl cutouts for sale in the student union building. In the early 70s I made it a priority to thumb through the stacks of one-dollar discs two or three times a week and many of my most treasured jazz-related albums hail from that era. “Stormy Monday” is one of those shiny gems.
There is something so incredibly refreshing about the simplicity of a great singer backed with only piano, upright bass and drums for accompaniment. The opener, “(They Call It) Stormy Monday” by T. Bone Walker, will tell you everything you need to know about this record. The band’s swinging, up-tempo version of this classic is highly satisfying as Lou’s voice and Les’ tight combo proved to be a wonderful match of talents. By stretching his upper register in the latter half of the track Rawls clearly reveals his strong soul and R&B foundations and both influences run deep. “God Bless the Child” is next. Most vocalists can’t seem to help themselves and they end up overreaching terribly when taking on this fine Billie Holiday standard but Lou displays tasteful restraint and the result is a joyful indulgence for your ears. McCann’s delicate piano runs are exquisite. “See See Rider” follows and it’s a fairly uneventful take on Ma Rainey’s blues mainstay but Les’ flawless technique in tickling the ivories is well worth hanging in there for a listen. Ann Ronell’s nostalgic, sappy “Willow Weep for Me” was never anything to write home about but in the hands of this experienced crew it transcends its own limitations. Their sultry rendition creates an intoxicating mood and I detect a hint of Brubeck in McCann’s playing, adding an intriguing ingredient to his bluesy point of view. Rawls’ vocal is tantalizingly expressive. “I’m Gonna Move to the Outskirts of Town” is another jazzed up slice of traditional blues wherein Lou shows off his cool, breezy falsetto.
For their cover of Leroy Carr’s “In the Evening (When the Sun Goes Down)” they begin with Lou crooning with only Leroy Vinnegar’s slinky bass for company and it makes for a splendid and timely change of pace. It’s an excellent track for the listener to hear why Capitol was so excited about Rawls’ massive potential. Percy Grainger’s saucy “’Taint Nobody’s Biz-ness If I Do” is next and it’s a great version of a great song. Nothing fancy about it, just a smooth-as-glass groove that’s perfection in motion motoring underneath Lou’s smug, defiant singing. “Lost and Lookin’” is a bluesy ballad written by Louis Jordan in which Rawls’ emotional delivery conveys a palpable, touching sadness. Les’ piano work is deliciously dream-like from start to end. Eddie Miller’s “I’d Rather Drink Muddy Water” follows and it sports a freewheeling blues shuffle complete with a playful attitude supplied mainly by McCann’s coy attack on the 88s. “Sweet Lover” serves as the closer and it has the kind of rolling feel that Les would exploit marvelously on his live project with Eddie Harris, the landmark “Swiss Movement” LP, some years later. Lou lets the raspy side of his captivating voice loose on this cut, proving that he had a considerable amount of power in reserve behind his usually-mellow style.
What I really love about this album is how it makes me feel like I’m sitting in a cozy jazz establishment at eleven on a Friday night, just soaking in some high-class sounds with some friends at my table and on the intimate, dimly-lit stage. Rawls, McCann, Vinnegar and drummer Ron Jefferson aren’t trying to fool anybody with clever shortcuts or slight of hand shenanigans on this record. This is the kind of jazzy blues music they knew how to play with blindfolds on and the authenticity they captured in these unadorned sessions is difficult to come by. Lou Rawls had a special voice that made people pay attention to him and, by showcasing it on some of the classiest tunes around in ‘62, he demonstrated that he deserved a chance at stardom. When you realize that when he passed away in 2006 he had over 70 albums in his catalogue of recordings and had amassed a tally of over 40 million units sold worldwide in his career you have to agree that he made the most of his opportunity. This humble but extremely enjoyable debut LP was just the start of something truly admirable.