Timi Yuro

Exclusive Interview With David Freeland


 

Go to "Buy it Now" at Ebay - Objectnumber: 260473927675


David Freeland Author of the book "The Ladies of Soul" (includes our Timi) made a very special exception to have an exclusive interview with Andylon Lensen for The Official Timi Yuro Association.



Can you introduce yourself for our our Timi Yuro Fans

I am the author of the new book, Automats, Taxi Dances, and Vaudeville: Excavating Manhattan's Lost Places of Leisure (published by NYU Press)




And also of Ladies of Soul, which came out in 2001 and features a chapter on Timi.  

 
Can you tell us something more about your background, where you were born, raised, school and about your mom and dad.

I was raised in the U.S. in Maryland, not far from Washington, DC.  Both of my parents worked in a local hospital.  My mother's family is from Newfoundland, Canada, and I still have many relatives there.  Washington was a great place in which to grow up, because at the time I was a teenager, in the late 1980s, there were still a few old-time rhythm & blues discjockeys who were active and playing the same records that they had played 25 years earlier.  It was, in fact, through one of these DJs (his name was the "Moon Man"), that I first heard Timi, on radio station WOL 1450-AM.  The song was "What's a Matter, Baby," and I recall it being sandwiched between performances by the likes of Garnet Mimms, Ted Taylor, and Etta James.  
 
Can you tell us short about your music - writer History

The DJs at WOL (the aforementioned "Moon Man" and then especially another DJ with whom I became friendly, the "More Better Man") really got me into music and gave me a musical education.  Their musical palette was incredibly broad, and it wasn't confined to tough R&B.  They thought nothing of playing Otis Redding next to Johnny Mathis.  That kind of wide perspective really helped me to understand the interrelatedness of all music.  Later, in college, I hosted a southern soul-themed radio show.   

How did you become a Writer?

In high school, starting around the time I was 14, I began writing for a kids' newspaper column called "It's a Small World."  We were syndicated in a number of papers in the Washington, DC area.  The column was organized and overseen by an incredible woman named Susan Solomon.  Each week we would meet to discuss story ideas, and then the next week we'd review and critique what we had done.  At the same time, we were conducting interviews with personalities such as Eunice Kennedy Shriver and Senator John Glenn.  So early on, I became accustomed to interviewing, writing, and then giving speeches related to what I had written.  Later, when I turned back to writing in my middle and late 20s, I found that my love for it was still there.    

 
What made you decide to do a book on "The Ladies Of Soul"

I was working on my Masters degree in Cultural Anthropology at Columbia University, and became interested in oral history as a way to explore human life and experience.  This was in about 1997.  I still had a deep-seated love of soul music, and came upon the idea of a project that would merge these interests; that is, my formal course of study (oral history) with my personal, informal one (R&B).  I had always felt that women were underrepresented in the body of writing about soul music in general.  Aside from Aretha, there really wasn't much out there about the women who were responsible for creating this incredible sound.  To me, it was strange, because (as you know) women recorded some of the most powerful and enduring soul music.  I wanted to find a number of these great female voices that I only knew from my old 45s, and give them a chance to tell their sides of the story, to find out what they went through - being African-American women in a tough, male-dominated industry.  What kinds of dreams and struggles did they experience?  And how were those dreams being played out today?  Later, I expanded the thesis into the book, Ladies of Soul. 

 
What was the purpose in writing this book?

Again, to fill what I perceived as a gap in the writing about pop and R&B music, and to allow these female voices to be heard. 

 
Was it hard to track down all those artists?

It wasn't as difficult as I had expected.  Maxine Brown was the first person I contacted, and then she helped me find Bettye LaVette, because at the time Maxine happened to be working with someone who was also working with Bettye.  So one thing kind of led to another.  And then my mother actually helped me find Ruby Johnson, the former Stax recording artist.  Timi was probably the most difficult to find.  Actually, the really challenging part with Timi was finding a time to do the interview.  She sounded very interested when I first spoke to her, but then kept putting it off.  We kept up a phone relationship for over a year before I realized that it was never going to happen unless I actually went out to Las Vegas.  So that's what I did - just hopped on a plane and went.  Timi was very upset with me at first, and let me know it (and, since you knew Timi, I know you can imagine what that sounded like!).  My friend Tony Luciano, who had been very close with Timi in the early 1960s, smoothed everything out with her.  Had it not been for him, the interview would never have happened.  Then, she came over to where I was staying in Vegas, and we wound up having an incredible interview.  Later we became great friends too.  

 
How and was it easy to find a publisher that would work with you?
 
It was relatively easy, because some years before I had met a blues scholar and writer named Dave Evans, who was also the editor of a book series for University Press of Mississippi on American music and life.  At the time David had mentioned that he was open to hearing new ideas for projects, so later, when I began working on the book, I contacted him. 

 
What new insights did you get into these artists when you wrote this book?

I would say, first of all, that their continued struggles - their determination to get out there and make themselves heard, as artists, impressed me.  A number of them still had something powerful to communicate, artistically, and they were finding ways to do it.  They had faced almost every conceivable type of obstacle in their careers and were still finding ways to perform.  The second insight is that the ideals associated with fame can survive long after the fame itself has disappeared.  These women were primed, within the industry, to become stars.  A few did indeed enjoy brief moments of fame; but, even though their fame turned out to be fleeting, it survived within them as a bright and powerful ideal.  I guess that's just another way of saying that they still carried themselves like stars!    

 
And did you get any reactions from them personally after it was issued?

I think that even the singers who felt that their remarks might perhaps be too candid came to like the book.  Throughout the process, I tried to be respectful toward them.  Timi had some of those concerns.  I did send her a copy of the draft before sending it to my publisher, and there were a couple of things (one was her withering commentary related to a prominent producer and composer) that she asked me to remove.  However, a hint of that particular reference is still in the final published chapter, if you'll read between the lines!  Timi and I did have a chance to speak about the final book before she passed, and she told me she loved it. 

 
What kind of books do you read yourself?

Well, for the past two and a half years, I've been knee-deep into New York history of all kinds: odd histories, obscure memoirs written by people you'd never think would write memoirs, books and papers, etc.  I have a huge filing cabinet full of research for the new book.  But I love reading fiction, and always have a novel at hand.  I particularly love the great British and American authors from the early 20th century - Forster, Fitzgerald, Dreiser, D.H. Lawrence, a writer named Elizabeth Bowen whom not too many people know about but who wrote wonderfully evocative prose. 

 
What is your favorite book?

My favorite novel is The Go Between, by L.P. Hartley.  That and Sister Carrie, by Theodore Dreiser.  In terms of music journalism, Guralnick's Sweet Soul Music.  That book taught me so much about what music writing could be - it gave me an understanding of its broad possibilities.

 
Who is your favorite Artist(s)?

Gosh - that's a tough one.  There are so many.  Of course, I love Timi.  Bettye LaVette, who is brilliant - I don't just hear what she is doing, I feel it.  Others: Dinah Washington, Brook Benton, Marion Williams, Kay Starr, Billie Holiday, Otis Redding, Cissy Houston (love her!), Dionne Warwick, Roy Hamilton, Maxine Brown, Carla Thomas, Barbara Mason and all the singers in Ladies of Soul, Baby Washington, Dusty Springfield, the late Ira Tucker of the Dixie Hummingbirds, Bessie Griffin, Bobby Womack, Bob Dylan, Linda Jones, Johnny Adams, George Jones, Etta James and definitely Big Maybelle.  That's just a short list! 

 
What is your favorite single, album and book and movie?

Single would be "There He Is," by Baby Washington.  I can't get over how good that is; I often blast the original 45 in my apartment, much to the annoyance of my neighbors.  "Some of Your Lovin," by Dusty would be a second.  I don't have a favorite album - there are just too many that I love.  Movies: Vertigo, Rebecca, Double Indemnity, Sunset Boulevard.  And then more obscure films, like Alan Rudolph's Choose Me, which has a HOT score by Teddy Pendergrass.  Those films that we get more out of every time we watch them.    

In terms of my favorite Timi song, it would have to be "Johnny," from The Amazing Timi Yuro album.  I think she just gave a magnificent performance on that, one of the most devastating of her career.  It's so beautifully constructed and sung, and there's something deeply tragic about it that moves me every time I hear it.




-Johnny - Timi Yuro


On what way did you become a Timi Yuro Fan?

First, through WOL, as mentioned above.  Then, through gathering her records and being amazed by the soulfulness of her performances.

 
What is the fondest memory you have of Timi?

The night Tony and I, along with another friend, Jo Ann, took her to a bar in Greenwich Village, in 2000.  It was several days after we had worked on a benefit for her at Nassau Colisseum.  She was relaxed and ready to have a great time.  Jo Ann had arranged everything in advance, so by the time we arrived with Timi, all Timi had to do was sit and enjoy the visits from women she hadn't seen in decades.  That night she was a star again.  Celeste, the pianist at the bar, learned "Hurt" just so she could honor Timi with it.  Timi got up and said, "I'd give my right arm to be able to sing for you tonight."  And she would have. 

Timi and me in 2000, in NYC, at the bar, Rubyfruits.


What is the one thing you miss most about Timi Yuro?

Her humor, honesty, her unique way of expressing things - and, of course, her supreme soulfulness.  Sorry, that was more than one! 

What was your first reaction when Timi died March 30, 2004?

Sadly, I was not surprised because I knew that she had been in really bad shape for some time.  But she had fought that awful cancer so bravely, for so many years.  

 
Why do you think Timi Yuro is bigger after her death, than when she was alive?

People are just now getting around to hearing her.  It's funny - perhaps in the new age of Internet technology, with so much available to be heard online, young listeners are getting a chance to hear her in ways that they wouldn't have before.  Timi teaches us all that true soul cannot be manufactured.  For her, performing was hearbreakingly real.  She lived her songs.  And I think in this rather antiseptic musical age, people really respond to that.

 
Any message for our Timi Yuro readers readers, David?

Keep sharing your wonderful memories and stories.  Somewhere, I know that Timi is appreciating them!

 
What is your favorite wish for the future, David?

Mostly, that we all finally find a way to stop killing one another, and to understand that unbridled agression is not the answer.  And that more of the social activism that typified the 1960s comes back.  In this country, we did see it return to an extent last year, when young people came out in force to rally around Obama.  And that's a good thing - it was inspiring to witness.  And, of course, that wonderful artists still keep giving us all this great music to enjoy and share! 

 
I would like to thank you for this exclusive interview and I hope you keep us updated when you are involved in any new project.

Thank you, Andylon.  It has been a real pleasure. 

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Larry Bright, Timi  &  Hurt....

Moving around in the LA music circles, Rosemary eventually crossed paths with guitarist Larry Bright.

Rosemary was smitten by his blonde good looks and undeniable musical talent. Once she had her mind made up there was no turning back.

They began a passionate and often tumultuous relationship due to Larry’s constant womanizing. He eventually deserted her by running off to Las Vegas to marry an attractive redhead named Diane. The betrayal left her shattered and she fell into a deep depression.....

There was one listener, however, whose response she valued above all others.

I wanted to sing "Hurt" because I wanted Larry to hear it on the radio. He was the only guy I wanted to hear it. And he did. The first night, it went on KFWB, every hour on the hour for one week.

That night, about four hundred kids came to the restaurant , including him. And my dad opened champagne and everything, and we all sat and listened to the record every hour...

"Hurt" became a # 4 pop and # 22 R&B hit within weeks of it's release and virtually made Yuro an overnight star....




-Hurt - Timi Yuro



Biography Larry Bright - Shake That Thing!

Larry Bright and voodoo go together like biscuits n’gravy, like bacon fat and triple-bypass surgery, like a crawfish po’boy and an ice-cold Dixie beer. Actually, as this is Larry’s story, make that a case of ice-cold Dixie beer. The man that can only be described as Howlin’ Wolf trapped in the body of Pat Boone has more dark hoodoo rhythm in his soul than a whole French quarter full of Madame LeVeau-Dionne Warwick-pseudo psychic-spellcasting-witch-wannabes.

A pioneer in what could only be described as ‘white trash blues’, the story of Larry Bright is—to paraphrase the title of one Dr.John’s hit songs—the story of being in the wrong place (and of the wrong race) at the right time. He was born in Norfolk, Virginia in August 17, 1934, as Julian Ferebee Bright, but came to be called ‘Little Larry’ after his stepfather, who was a navy man. The Bright family moved frequently across several of the Southern states, but Larry grew up mostly in Corpus Christi, Texas, and as such, lived a sort of charmed life—complete with his very own nanny. In fact, it was his beloved ‘mammy’ who gave him his first mojo, for good luck.

‘My mammy loved me,’ Larry said during our recent interview. ‘She used to call me her li’l white bastard.’

Of course, judging by his subsequent lack of luck, one could make the assumption that his was indeed a very effective mojo.

‘Nobody knows what a mojo is,’ Bright continues. ‘It’s a monkey’s paw…a good luck charm. I had a mojo around my neck when I left Texas. I still sometimes war it today.’

Larry fed himself a steady musical diet of Southern Texas blues, at a time all other teen musicians were aspiring to be Hillbilly Heroes. It was Larry’s big dream to make it on the chitlin’ circuit, playing with influential bluesmen like Sonny Boy Williamson, Lightnin’ Hopkins, Screamin’ Jay Hawkins and Howlin’ Wolf.

Eventually—in what Larry says was ‘one of the high points of my career’—he had the opportunity to sit in with one his big musical heroes, Bo Diddley, during a New Orleans jam session.

In the mid-Fifties, after a brief stint in the Navy (he was released on a section 8), Bright found himself in Southern California trying to break into the burgeoning L.A. music scene. On weekends, he started cruising the Sunset Strip for action, sometimes sitting in with the house band at a Strip dive called The Sea Witch, where he jammed with them for free beer. Larry quickly built up a reputation as an incredibly dynamic guitarist and performer with a penchant for ‘odd behavior.’

In October 1959, at the invitation of session producer Joe Saraceno, Bright began recording the tracks for what would be his first single at Western Records in Hollywood. Bright recalled some of the top studio players who were on hand that day: Ernie Freeman was the arranger, Earl Palmer played drums, Red Callandar was the bass player, Billy Pitman played guitar, Ernie Fields played  piano and Marshall Lieb of the Teddy Bears was the background vocalist.
For his first demo, Bright had wanted to do a version of ‘Hound Dog’ in a style similar to Big Mama Thornton’s original but came up with another Muddy Waters influenced idea fifteen minutes into the session. He made up a little dance number on the spot called ‘Mojo Workout.’

Saraceno remembers that Bright was a talented guitarist, but a little unfocussed: ‘He told me had heard this Mojo song when he was down in New Orleans, and he wanted to record it, but he didn’t know how it went, so he made up his own. We changed it around a little, and that was ‘Mojo Workout.’

‘I remember Marty Robbins was down the hall recording ‘El Paso,’’ Bright recalls, ‘and I went in there and listened to them play. Robbins was really interested in all types of music, man. I remember we talked about Little Richard and the blues. He loved the blues. Then later, he had those hits of his with the fuzz guitar, which we were foolin’ around with at the time too.’

-Larry Bright - Mojo Workout


‘Mojo Workout’ soon caught the attention of the new Tide Records label, which Bright refers to now as a ‘black’ label, owned by Ruth Stratchborneo (also known as Ruth Christie). Local independent radio promoter John Blore was hired by tide to work the song and brought the track to his dee-jay brother, Chuck Blore, who broke the record on KFWB, the big Top Forty station in L.A.. It Peaked on the local charts at #16 (May 7, 1960). Jim Randolph at KGFJ, the major R&B station in L.A. at the time, was also one of the first to play ‘Mojo Workout’ thinking Bright was a black artist. It climbed to #1 on Billboard’s Black Music charts, and hit Billboard’s Hot 100 a week later at Number 90. It was the only Tide release that ever charted nationally.

With a national hit song and dance craze catching across the country, Bright was soon invited to perform ‘Mojo Workout’ on the Dick Clark Show. With the July 9th appearance coming up, Bright realized he needed a new suit, so he asked Tide Records for an advance, but they told him they didn’t give advances to their artists.

‘I was pretty fed up,’ Bright recalls, ‘And so I walked out of their office, went and got drunk, and I started goin’ around to the other labels. I walked into Rendezvous Records and told this guy Rod Pearce, ‘I’m Larry Bright, I’ve got a hit record, but no money.’ So this guy gave me $1000 and I signed another record contract. I was half swacked at the time, and didn’t know what I was doin’. Man I was binged in 1960.’

According to Larry, during the summer of 1960, KFWB was playing three of his songs in heavy rotation: ‘Mojo Workout,’ ‘Natural Born Lover’ and ‘Twinkie Lee’. The last of these was a song Bright wrote to catch the ear of dee-jay Chuck Blore.

‘Twinkie Lee’ was the name of the cat that was a pet of Blore’s daughter,’ Bright laughs. ‘Í figured it was one way to get the guy to play my songs, you know. Just make his daughter smile. Every father’s a sucker for that’.

Dorsey Burnette played Danelectro bass on the ‘Twinkie Lee’ session, and later claimed that Larry had ripped off his 1958 recording ‘Bertha Lou,’ suing Bright for infringement. He won the court case and obtained half of the songwriting publishing credit. When Tide found out what Bright had done, they also sued Rendezvous and obtained the master tape, though Rendezvous continued to release the song under the name ‘Pete Roberts’ (Bright says he was unaware of this until the late 80’s). Tide also changed the artist credit on later editions of ‘Mojo Workout’ to The Mojo Dancers with Larry Bright’s name listed beneath that in extremely small print.

The legal hassles stole some of Bright’s thunder, and probably hurt his career when a follow-up hit and his record label’s support might have turned things around for him. He continued to record for Tide, giving them five additional singles over the next two years, but the label didn’t really promote these new releases. ‘Blood Hound’, ‘One Ugly Child’ and ‘I’m a Mojo Man’, are all featured on this collection, and showcase the ‘white thrash blues’ sound of Bright’s guitar. Tide eventually leased his contract to DEL-FI Records, which had already been doing the smaller label’s national distribution at the time.

When asked if he remembered Larry Bright, legendary DEL-FI impresario Bob Keane’s response was an exasperated, ‘Sure. A hell of a talented guitarist, but he was really one weird guy. He was into all that voodoo stuff. Really believed in it too! He used to come into the office waving that mojo of his at me! Said it was some sort of magical monkey’s paw, and that he’d cast a spell on me if I screwed him the way that every other producer had’.

‘Bob was a helluva producer’ Larry says of Keane today. ‘He used to kick me in the ass and try to get me to try new things all the time. We used to go into his studio, which was above a bank on Selma, right in Hollywood, and we’d try all kinds of stuff. He even put me up in a $25-a-night motel room while I was recording’.

Larry’s first DEL-FI single was Keane’s attempt to have Bright cash in on the surf music craze of 1963, which his label was already known for.

‘He had all these surf bands really tearin’ it up, man’ Larry remembers. ‘I really remember The Lively Ones had the number one record for three months. Smack dab in the summer of 1963… Surf Rider was the top of the selling album at Wallichs Music City on Sunset & Vine, a few blocks away from the DEL-FI office, you know. Everyone knew who DEL-FI was for their surf music. So we tried to do a surfin’ blues, man. That’s what ‘Surfin’ Queen’ was.’

Around this time Bright also cut an instrumental, ‘Cornball (parts 1 & 2)’, which was released under the name Humdingers. It was a slight variation on the classic surf rumbler, ‘Church Key’, and both sides were actually the same track. It was released on the Jaye Joseph label, got some brief airplay as a news in the lead-in, before it was summarily released on Keane’s Donna Records label.

In 1963, Bright also recorded a song penned by Herry Goffin and Carole King, this one called ‘When I did the Mashed Potatoes With You’.

‘It was sittin’ in the office with Bob, ‘ Larry remembers, ‘and this guy came in pluggin his song, and Bob thought I could do it, so we all went into his studio, and I had a shot of Jack Daniels and we did it. Man, I love that song.

Bright never quite fulfilled his dream of playing the chitlin’ circuit. Rather, he was a fixture on Hollywood’s Sunset Strip beat for a while, playing gigs at the Millionaire’s Club, Ciro’s and Gazarri’s. HE also appeared at out-of-town loacales such as the Sahara in Lake Tahoe, and was the only white blues performer to appear on an otherwise all-black tour, headlined by Chuck Berry, whom Bright idolized. (He cut a version of Berry’s Maybelline for DEL-FI in 1964). Bright also toured through his home state of Texas with Gary ‘US’ Bonds, Dick and Dee Dee, the Marketts and Chubby Checker.

In all, Bright recovered twelve sides for DEL-FI, before leaving to record for a number of smaller, less ethical, labels. Throughout the Sixties, he filled his time with occasional studio sideman gigs and recorded a handful of songs, including a version of ‘La Bamba’ which he released under his own self-named label.

Rumors of Bright increasingly bizarre behavior abounded, further damaging his career, and he now claims it was partly due to a lack of confidence in playing the music of other artists. Despite the fact that luminaries as diverse as Lou Rawls and Roy Clark were huge fans of his guitar playing and hired him for their bands, Bright continued to have a hard time finding consistent work. The few opportunities he had, Larry was just as likely to sabotage himself. It is said that when he offered a high playing gig as Don Ho’s guitarist, Bright declined, citing that it ‘wasn’t really his kind of music’. Another time, Bright claims, he lost another lucrative session job with James Brown when he reportedly called the Godfather of Soul ‘a monkey’.

Bright also shared bizarre friendship with Elvis Presley that lasted on and off for years. The two met when Red and Sonny West, two of Presley’s  ‘Memphis Mafie’ pals, came to see him play one night at Gazarri’s. They invited Bright back to Presley’s Bel Air mansion, and soon Presley and Bright had become friends too, often dating the same girls.

‘He used to like it when the girls wore white panties’, Bright laughs now. ‘[Presley] used to fire Sonny West all the time, and Sonny would come and live with me. One time I was at a party at Elvis’ house and I was drinkin’ from a fifth of Jack Daniels. E.P… we called him E.P… he said, ‘Hey, boy, you sure drink a lot’’.

Presley respected Larry as a guitarist, but was intolerant of his non-stop drinking, so Bright was never asked to join his band, but the two did jam occasionally at Presley’s mansion. At one point, in 1970, Elvis offered to buy Larry a brand new Mercedes as a gift for Bright’s newborn son. Thinking he was joking, Bright politely declined-only to discover later that Elvis was buying everybody a new Mercedes that day. Until Presley’s death in 1977, the two would engage in a pattern of intermittent periods of outright feuding and deep, heartfelt reconciliations.

‘ I had no idea that man was taking pills’, Bright says.

Nevertheless, despite Larry’s reputation as a hot performer and a musician’s musician, he pretty much consigned himself to the permanent status of a ‘musical unknown’ due to a series of disastrous business deals, legal problems and liquor fueled madness.

Í trusted everybody, I drank a lot, and I signed everything’, he admits now. Without elaborating further, he adds, ‘sometimes I still have trouble sitting down.’

Through it all, Bright remains even today an optimist. Now living in Carson City, Nevada he still writes music and is anxious to make a comeback…once he gets his guitar out of hock. He harbors few hard feelings about the past, claiming that he’s ‘had a lot of fun’. Bright prefers to look toward the future, and is particularly excited and confident about the DEL-FI release of what amounts to what he calls his ‘greatest hits’.

Producer Joe Saraceno remembers Bright as an artist who was ‘before his time’.

‘ I think if he were around in the late Seventies, when the rockabilly thing was really happening’, Saraceno recalls, ‘he would have been huge. Rockabilly was really his thing, you know, but he just had a lot of bad luck’.

Bob Keane agrees with Saraceno:

‘I’m not too sure that that mojo of his worked too well’ Bob Keane says of Bright. ‘In fact, I looked at it real close one time, and it looked to me like the damned thing was just a rabbit foot dipped in Shinola’.

Biography written by Garrick H.S. Brown - 1997

Note: Born Julian Ferebree Bright, 17 August 1934, Norfolk, Viginia
Died 17 December 2003, Placer, California