WILLIAM BELL at the UNION CHAPEL, ISLINGTON

I’ve wanted to see Stax legend William Bell for years. On the occasions he’d cropped up in recent times – from performing for President Obama at the White House to appearing on Later with Jools Holland (how that for spanning the spectrum? From the sublime…) – he’s looked and sounded like he could still cut the mustard. Having now ticked him off the bucket list I couldn’t be happier to report he was well worth the wait.

At the Union Chapel last night he impressed straight from the start. It’s difficult to hear anyone sing ‘Easy Comin’ Out (Hard Goin’ In)’ without breaking into a smile and that expression was present for the following 90 minutes. ‘Any Other Way’ followed, the first of the real classics, and what a set of pipes this man has - tender yet rock solid assured.

Now aged 77, Bell’s voice was as strong as ever, fit as a flea, and managed to make wearing dark sunglasses in a chapel look like the coolest and more natural thing in the world. What I like in soul artists is when they can still feel contemporary rather than a cheesy old cabaret act. Mavis Staples does this supremely well and Bell does too. Half a dozen tracks from his new This Is Where I Live album underscored he’s not reliant on ancient hits to connect to his audience. ‘The Three of Me’, ‘I Will Take Care of You, ‘Mississippi-Arkansas Bridge’, ‘Poison In The Well’ and the title track all being personal reflections and breathed fresh life into his set and the Stax sound.

Bell kept his band on their toes throughout, and they were up to the not inconsiderable task, by frequently “breaking it down” and going off on a tangent. This could in lesser hands be tiresome but here it worked, not least during an already spectacular ‘Everybody Loves A Winner’ when he stopped to testify with the last of the evening light shining through the stained glass chapel windows.

This Is Where I Live takes Bell full circle, back on Stax, and as he reminded us, he was the label’s first solo male vocalist. ‘You Don’t Miss Your Water’ cut for the fledging label in 1961 and written by Bell when he was 17, “I was an old soul even then”. That Bell is still around, one of the last standing from that era, from the birth of Stax and, with that record, what we now call Southern Soul, is remarkable in itself, that he remains in such shape and voice is nothing short of incredible. There’s no need to make allowances, to overlook any shortcomings, as there are none. Needless to say the song was a highlight.

The Judy Clay role for ‘Private Number’ as taken by Bell’s “attractive lady” backing vocalist whose name I didn’t catch beyond, I think, Suzie. If William really does have her number he’s a lucky dog. ‘Everyday Is A Holiday’, ‘Eloise (Hang On In There)’ and ‘Tryin’ To Love Two’ all got an airing as did ‘I Forgot To Be Your Lover’ and although Bell isn’t a flashy or show-offy soul singer – one of the qualities I most like about him – he did allow himself one moment to hold a note during ‘Lover’ with superb control.

An extended ‘Born Under A Bad Sign’, reprised on this new LP – and let’s not forget a lot of these songs Bell at least co-wrote – topped off the evening in a style. Back in ’68 Bell and Booker T wrote ‘Tribute To A King’ for the departed Otis Redding. I’d be hard pressed to think of anyone other than William Bell more worthy of wearing the soul crown today.

MONKEY USA PART 4: STAX, MEMPHIS, TENNESSEE

“Can you take me to Stax please?” Best sentence I’ve ever said to a cab driver. “Sorry sir, I’m not a taxi.” He was driving a something called a medical transportation vehicle. So, if you were in a Memphis hospital last month waiting for a new kidney, I apologise for the delay.

It did mean I got to say it again before we travelled the couple of miles from the tourist drinking dens of Beale Street to across the tracks to the noticeably non-tourist area of East McLemore Avenue. Funky part of town is the white boy euphemism for a poor black neighbourhood where it wouldn’t be advised to wander around alone. I hate saying things like this as it casts aspersions on the folk there, who – like anywhere – will consist of the friendly and not-so-friendly. The vast majority of Memphis people we met couldn’t have been nicer. However, had Mrs Monkey and I walked this particularly residential route we wouldn’t have looked more out of place had we been wearing Beefeater uniforms and whistling God Save The Queen. And quite frankly, if I were looking for an easy target, I’d pick on us. For a start, nobody in Memphis walks anywhere. It is eerie to walk streets so deserted. On the occasions you do see somebody they are immediately conspicuous. Later we’d walk a few blocks from Beale Street to the Lorraine Motel, the scene of Dr Martin Luther King’s assassination and now home to the National Civil Rights Museum (an extremely uncomfortable and moving experience) and the only person we saw was a toothless dude on a bike harassing us for money. I never fathomed how people got around as there were never many cars either. Maybe the locals have exclusive use of a series of underground tunnels. When the cabby dropped us off at Stax he said not to wander from the front of the building. He needn’t have wasted his breath, we weren’t going anywhere.

Back in 1959 Jim Stewart and Estelle Axton transformed a tired theatre on the corner of E. McLemore Avenue and College Street into the Satellite record shop, recording studio and label that would become Stax. The rest, you know. After Stax went bankrupt in 1975 the building went to ruin. Published in 1997 Rob Bowman’s Soulville USA, the definitive account of the label, ends on a sour note. The final page reading, “Tragically, in 1988 the Stax building was torn down. What should have been a national historic site remains in the late 1990s an empty field containing rubbish and junkie needles. It’s a disgrace, and speaks volumes regarding Memphis’s treatment of its African-American heritage.”

A disgrace indeed but Bowman can now have no complaints after a multi-million dollar investment as produced a tremendous turnaround. Stax – the name and the building - has been rebuilt on the same spot; the façade to the design of the original building, and houses the Museum of American Soul Music. Next door stands the Stax Music Academy, a non-profit organisation which uses “music education as a tool to enrich the lives of potentially at-risk children”. There's soul power, right there.

It’s difficult to fault the museum. Unlike other museum tours on our trip, this one was self-guided. It was huge; packed with over 2000 exhibits within a modern, well designed space. It starts with a short film about Stax beginnings, heyday and resurrection. Although not made too long ago it was noticeable how many artists have since passed away. The scale of the exhibition can be demonstrated by the first area which centres on an old wooden chapel that stood in the Mississippi Delta for over a hundred years. They didn’t just recreate Hoopers A.M.E. Chapel; they picked it up and dropped it here. With a gospel soundtrack playing and video archives around the outer walls, it firmly establishes the roots of soul in the church.

From there in, it’s a chronological story. It makes reference to non-Stax artists from James Brown and Aretha Franklin to the Motown stable and Memphis neighbours at Hi, but its focus is on its own acts, with the higher profile ones each afforded their own display of records, photos, instruments and personal items: Rufus Thomas’s funky boots, Mavis Staples’s dress, Otis Redding’s suede jacket, a suit belonging to Sam or Dave, but the most jaw dropping belongs to Isaac Hayes. Much is made of Stax being the perfect embodiment of racial harmony but after the death of Otis Redding, the assignation of King, and driven on by the new leadership of Al Bell, they became a potent symbol of Black Power. Nothing demonstrated power more than wealth and success and Hayes’s peacock blue 1972 Cadillac El Dorado pimp machine, trimmed with real gold and lined with white fur, with a television in the front and a bar in back, portrayed that in a most ostentatious manner. I’m not one for cars, but this was a sho’ nuff afro turner.

In keeping with the attention to detail spent on the exterior, Studio A has been rebuilt to the exact specifications of the original using previous blueprints, photos and surviving memories. I’d estimate the combined studios of Motown, Chess and Sun would fit within these four walls on this carpeted floor. Again true to the original it had been built on a slope (remember this started life as a theatre) with the raised control room where the stage had been. Set up ready to record another smash was the house band's equipment featuring Al Jackson’s drum kit, Steve Cropper’s guitar and amp, Duck Dunn’s bass combo, Wayne Jackson's trumpet, and the Hammond organ Booker T. used on – amongst other things - “Green Onions”.

There was also the “Hall of Records” which displayed hundreds of album sleeves (loads I’d never seen before) and walls filled with, possibly complete sets, of the blue “falling records” single releases and the yellow “fingersnap” ones. When all said and done, it’s the music that matters. It’s great to see where it was created, to see the stage outfits, to read the stories, to pay tribute, but you can’t put the sound, the feeling, the spirit, the emotion, the soul that comes out of those 7 inch pieces of vinyl into a museum. The subject matter alone makes the Stax Museum of American Soul Music the best museum I’ve been to; it’s as good as it gets, but nothing beats the music itself.

Next stop: Sun Records.

STAX! with EDDIE FLOYD at the 229 CLUB

This was Eddie Floyd in London on Wednesday night. It was difficult to get a better photograph as he refused to keep still. From one side of the stage to other he stomped, clapped, pointed, danced, wiped sweat from his brow and flicked it out with his fingers; the energy he produced was incredible.

After the Stax house band of Steve Cropper, Duck Dunn, Lester Snell and Steve Potts had raided the Booker T. & The MGs catalogue, there was a palpable sense of impatience festering in the room. “Melting Pot”, “Green Onions”, “Soul Limbo”, “Hip-Her-Hug”, “Summertime” and others were all decent, even if a deaf ear had to turned to the occasional drum or guitar solo. What makes Steve Cropper so respected is his crisp and economic guitar playing, so when one witnesses him squinty eyed and gurning, pulling an axe solo, it doesn’t warrant much of a soul clap. Not that I blame him after knocking out the same songs for fifty years, but after 45 minutes and when time is tight, it needed fresh impetus.

That came once Cropper introduced Eddie “The Alabama Slammer” Floyd to the stage. 75 years old but in his movement and strength of voice, could’ve been half that. I make allowances for classic acts; they can’t be expected to match their peak years, but if Eddie Floyd was better than this in 1967, then histories need rewriting. Considered a rung below the soul ladder to Otis, the Wicked Pickett, Sam and Dave, his contribution has been unfairly overlooked. As well as his own stormers like “Raise Your Hand”, “Big Bird” and his anthem “Knock On Wood”, he wrote and produced for others and his career at Stax career lasted well into the mid-70s. As one of the last remaining true soul men he went up a few notches in my estimation after this performance. Fingersnapping good.

STAX HITS LONDON - WEDNESDAY 27th JULY 2011

A couple of readers have recently pulled me up about reviewing gigs they hadn’t known were happening. With that in mind, here’s notice of a special night in London Town. Playing under the banner of simply “Stax”, Steve Cropper, Donald "Duck" Dunn and Eddie Floyd, plus Lester Snell from Isaac Hayes’s band on Hammond, and Steve Potts – Al Jackson’s replacement in the MGs – on drums, they’ll be playing numbers from their label’s immense back catalogue, so expect all the classics. Even better, it’s in a large dancefloor space rather than the seating venues these things tend to take place in these days (see details on flyer). You’ll spot me at the front shouting for "Things Get Better" and "Melting Pot".

BOOKER T at the JAZZ CAFE

Stood at the bar as Booker T. Jones performs soul classics he helped create isn’t the worse way to spend a Friday night. He was recording for Stax before it was even called Stax and as house band for the label Booker T & The MGs would feature on hundreds of hits (and misses) that defined the Memphis soul stew. Add to that the songs Jones wrote, arranged, performed and produced and you’ve got yourself a bona fide legend.

For all that, he is synonymous with “Green Onions” and that’s always going to be a defining moment whenever he plays. He plays it surprisingly early – third number in – to get it out of the way. It wasn’t just his Hammond organ that made that record so timeless, it was Steve Cropper’s sharp guitar slashes, Lewis Steinburg’s walking bass groove and Al Jackson Jr’s taut drum snaps. Beyond Booker’s playing not much survives. The economy of delivery replaced by the fussiness of his MG-less band who indulge in extreme eyes-closed guitar wanking.

“Born Under A Bad Sign” the song he co-wrote and played on for Albert King comes next and he takes on vocal duties. He’s a jobbing singer, nothing more, and hearing him strolling through “Hold On, I’m Coming”, “Ain’t No Sunshine”, “Take Me To The River” and “(Sittin’ On) The Dock Of The Bay” only shines a light on how much vitality Sam and Dave, Bill Withers, Otis Redding and co infused those recordings. It wouldn’t have gone a miss to hear him on organ on those rather than barely audible guitar either. He does thankfully give the Hammond a poke for “Soul Limbo”, “Time Is Tight” and “Melting Pot”. Whether “Melting Pot” is improved by a rapping drummer is doubtful.

I’m sounding very negative and grumpy but it wasn’t bad. It was just, you know, all right. I don’t like Booker T and the MGs any less now and after nearly fifty years in the business, achieving everything he has, I doubt he gives a monkey’s about some jumped up punk’s minor quibbles. And they are minor quibbles, like I say, seeing someone at close quarters who shaped so many records in your collection isn’t something to be too sniffy about.