you don’t have Become an expert in classic soul and R&B and recognize the monuments of American music that came from Stax Records in the 60s and 70s. Sam & Dave’s “Soul Man,” Otis Redding’s “Respect” and “(Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay,” Isaac Hayes’ “Theme From” shaft” and the Staple Singers’ “I’ll Take You There,” just a few of Stax’s hits claimed the Memphis-based record company to be the southern version of Motown.
Whether anyone is fully aware of it is another matter.But help is coming Stax: Soulsville USA, The four-hour documentary, directed by Jamila Wignot, is available to stream on HBO (the first two parts premiere Monday night). This film is worth seeing just for the rarely seen footage. We get a glimpse of Hayes and Bar-Kays crafting the still incredible orchestral soul of “Theme From.” shaft” director Gordon Parks. We see clips from Redding’s farm, the Monterey International Pop Festival, and footage from his funeral after he died in a 1967 plane crash. There is also plenty of footage from his sessions in the studio, including session footage of the label’s core backing band, Booker T. and the MG’s (and recording his artists’ own rights).
Of course, like any record company, it wasn’t all about the music. Stax: Soulsville USA It also chronicles the various dramas, struggles, crashes, and comebacks that came with Stax, all within a fairly compact period of about 15 years. Here are 7 things I learned from Dr.
The Stax hit was full of symbolism.
Many of the label’s most played songs were not considered overtly political at the time, but events in and around the company, as well as its talent, remained relevant even during a time of acute racial tensions. It was still reflected in the music. Songwriter and producer David Porter talks about how Sam and Dave’s “Soul Man” is a message and boast of racial identity. The late Isaac Hayes explained in an archival interview that his bare-chested, chain-covered stage costume was also iconic. Chains, he says, meant “strength” rather than captivity. (He also admitted to wearing sunglasses on stage to hide his nervousness after transitioning from behind-the-scenes songwriter to frontman.)
in watt stacks, a 1973 Los Angeles Stadium show hosted by Stax and featuring some of its stars, featured a powerful moment when Jesse Jackson led tens of thousands of black people in chants of “I am somebody.” It was also discovered that many Stax musicians hung out at the bar and pool of Lorraine’s motel in Memphis, the site of Martin Luther King’s Jr. assassination in 1968.
There was a hidden figure in Stax.
The name Stax didn’t refer to a pile of records. Rather, it was a combination of his first two letters: co-founder musician and songwriter Jim Stewart and his sister Estelle Axton. From what we hear, Stewart asked his sister to invest in his idea for a record store and record company. Ultimately, the feisty Ms. Axton (who mortgaged her home to join) became, in the words of one employee, “the mother of the organization.” Axton was a key figure in the company until the end of the 60s. She and the label’s overzealous promotions man, Al Bell, clashed, and Stewart asked her sister, in his words, to “quit.” Axton died in 2004, and her daughter recalls that her mother was “emotionally devastated” after leaving Stax.
Despite Stax’s roster of talented black artists, racism persisted.
Stax started as a record store with a recording studio in the back, and Booker T. Jones recalled how music buffs, black and white, flocked to the store. But racism still lingered outside the building. Mainstream pop radio ignored Stax’s early releases. Jim Stewart recalled how Carla Thomas, who already had a few hits for the label, had to ride a hotel freight elevator because blacks were not allowed in the lobby. Stewart, Bell, and Redding were once pulled over by a Memphis police officer, upset at seeing black men in the same car as white people. The label and its talents began to receive due recognition when the Stax caravan traveled to Europe in 1967, where they were welcomed like heroes.
Even back then, the music industry knew that death sold.
In 1967, Redding was immersed in the world of the Beatles. Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band And he decided he wanted to branch out musically, too. The result was the heavy folk-soul “(Sittin’ on) The Dock of the Bay,” which he recorded before the plane crash that claimed the lives of him and four members of his band Bar-Kays. According to documents, Atlantic contacted Stewart a few days after Redding’s death and asked him what kind of music he was ready to release. Despite initial resistance, MG guitarist and producer Steve Cropper was ordered to prepare something. A few days after Redding’s death, Cropper stayed up all night to finish the song. It was quickly shipped to Atlantic’s New York office (Cropper recalls giving the master tape to a flight attendant in Memphis), and “(Sittin’ on) The Dock of the Bay” was released within days. It hit the shelves and became Redding’s first number one.
Stacks knew how to move business forward when needed.
Al Bell, who eventually became co-owner of the label and the label’s first prominent black executive, talked about the innovative way he made Sam & Dave’s “You Don’t Know Like I Know” a big hit in 1965. Ta. As the song was released before Christmas, he said: He knew that DJs on black radio stations in and around the area had to play seasonal carols. Thinking he needed a break, he suggested that he include a Sam & Dave single every time his third or fourth Christmas song was played, which he did, resulting in Sam & Dave’s first single. single reached the top 100.
Few labels were as bad as Stax.
Some university should dedicate an entire music business course to Stax. In 1965, Stewart signed a so-called “very bad contract” with Atlantic for $1,000 and the right to distribute records nationwide. Redding’s death was a major setback for the company, as was the moment Atlantic merged with Warner Brothers the following year, and Stax and its master tapes became the sole property of Atlantic. (“If it wasn’t for the kiss, it would have been a mess,” says one employee.)
In the 1970s, the company was wary of CBS, which he claims was considered a “racist” label by black people in the music industry. But Clive Davis, who was running CBS at the time, wanted to get into the R&B market. Everything seemed to be back on track, but Davis was unceremoniously fired and suddenly Stax albums started disappearing from record stores.according to Stax: Soulsville USA (This does not include responses from former CBS employees), CBS began withholding funds from Stacks, effectively strangling Stacks. The label was also involved in an embezzlement case against its bank partner.
Stax also had some WTF releases.
Like other record companies, Stax released several misfires and head scratchers. The 1975 compilation before the label’s collapse includes a clip of Lena Zavaroni, a white Scottish teenager with a big voice and brash stage persona, who Stax selected for distribution in the United States. Zavaroni couldn’t have been more out of place at the label. But her presence makes you wonder if she and the label helped set the stage for the upcoming gimmick. america’s got talent — not Stax’s greatest contribution to pop culture, but an interesting end to a once-great company.
