The King’s Singles

This stuff will break your heart while it kicks your butt. King Curtis was one of the most prolific and beloved sax players ever to pick up the instrument. His sound was unmistakable. You knew from the first note who was behind that glorious tone. Although his career was cut short with his murder in 1971 at the age of 37, he left behind a catalog of music few horn players can match.

Curtis Ousley was the King, his phrasing and intonation the stuff of royalty. As King Curtis, Ousley ‘s legacy is mostly contained on Atlantic Records’ ATCO label. He did spend brief time on other labels (Enjoy, Capitol) after his initial output on ATCO from ’58-’59 didn’t do well. His first hit was “Soul Twist” on Enjoy, number one on Billboard’s R&B singles chart in ’62. Capitol gave him “Do the Monkey” and his theme song,“Soul Serenade.” Returning to ATCO in ’65, Curtis churned out chart topping albums and singles for the rest of his career. Curtis was also a prolific sideman, playing with soul greats including Aretha Franklin, Wilson Pickett, Solomon Burke and Don Covay.

This compilation has lots of treats and surprises. 24 of the 66 cuts on the three disc set have never appeared on a King Curtis LP during his lifetime.
On disc one, Jim Reeves’ Country and Western classic “He’ll Have To Go” is transmogrified into a soul instrumental burbling with saxofunk. The marketing strategy was even more bizarre, pairing Reeves’ country side with Martha and the Vandellas’ signature Motown tune, “Dancing in the Streets,” on the flip side of the single, released between ’66s That Lovin’ Feeling and Small’s Paradise.

“There is Something On Your Mind,”from Live At Small’s Paradise was Bobby Marchan’s eerie, twisted tale of murderin’ your sweetie after one too many of your best friends come walking through the door where you found her gettin’ it on with another of your best friends. After administering a lethal lead injection, Marchan’s murderous shootist has some regrets: “Realizing what you’ve done, you go up to the treasure of your heart and say, ‘Baby, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.’” But what really takes this one out of the ranks of your usual murder ballad is her bizarre reply: “With her last dyin’ breath, she look up at you and say, ‘Doo dooo dooo doo, whoa whoa.’” Curtis’ take has no words, the King just blowing a soulful dirge, sax squealing in anguish at the enormity of his loss.

Curtis isn’t just covering these tunes that were imprinted on the minds of the record-buying public of that era, he’s completely re-inventing many of them. The melodies are still instantly recognizable, but Curtis takes off on improvisational tangents that transform them.

The King needs no words to get these tunes across. His playing on “Spanish Harlem”is as eloquent as Ben E King’s vocal was. Ironically, the ’65 release was merely a re-release of King’s’60 Leiber and Stoller produced hit with King’s voice muted. The B side, “Boss,” is a twangy, guitar-driven vehicle, but when Curtis steps in with his fifties-stye yakety-sax is definitely in charge. The Duane Eddy-ish “Quicksand” is another guitar vehicle, but Curtis’ low key soulful sax still dwarfs all the stringed histrionics including plucked harp glissandos and clunky piano.

Disc 2 is packed with soul. “You Don’t Miss Your Water” throbs with the stuff. Curtis underplays it beautifully, honkin’ sweet and low where most of the singers who tackled it ripped their throats out getting the message across. It still comes across like it was shot into your veins, swirling dreamily through your bloodstream.

Even though the album was called King Size Soul, country creept in as well with “Ode To Billie Joe” alongside Stevie Wonder’s “I Was Made To Love Her.” But the best known single form that session is “Memphis Soul Stew,” still one of the best soul recipes ever written down. Curtis serves up a dish that few hornmen have ever been able to surpass. He recorded two versions, the one here a studio cut from ’67s King Size Soul. It’s the one most people are familiar with, but the live version from ’71’s Live At Fillmore West, opening for and backing Aretha Franklin for three consecutive nights with what was his best band (not included here) really stands out. “We sell so much of this stuff, people wonder what we put in it,” Curtis says, revealing the recipe. For the live version, ½ a teacup of bass was provided by Jerry Jemmott. A pound of fatback drums(Bernard Purdie,) 4 tablespoons of boilin’ Memphis guitar (Cornell Dupree,) a little pinch of organ (Truman Thomas,) and a half a pint of horns (the King.) “Place on the burner and bring to a boil. Now beat…. well.” Even though that lineup was not on this cut, they do show up on disc 3 on Buddy Miles’ “Changes, Parts I an II” from that same Fillmore show.

1967’s King Curtis Plays The Great Memphis Hits is one of the finest items in Curtis’ catalog. The Muscle Shoals session men known as the Swampers were flown in from New York to cut the album. Spooner Oldham, Roger Hawkins, Tommy Cogbill and Jimmy Johnson provided the backing tracks for Aretha Franklin’s debut album as well, including her classic “Respect.” But Curtis turned out some classics as well.

You might think that Sam and Dave had the definitive version of “When Something Is Wrong With My Baby,” but Curtis’ version will make you reconsider, his horn singing just as soulfully as the famed soul men’s impassioned vocals. On William Bell’s “You Don’t Miss Your Water,” Curtis proves once again you don’t need words to be a soulman, laying down a heart-rending solo no human vocal chords could touch.

Disc 3 has some strange choices. ’69’s Instant Groove spun off a bunch of singles. Joe South’s “Games People Play” is a big deal because it won a Grammy for best R&B instrumental performance of 69. But you have to wonder why nobody bothered to put out “The Weight,” with Duane Allman guesting on guitar and swampers David Hood on bass Barry Beckett and Jimmy Johnson on guitars as a single. It later showed up on Capricorn’s ’74 double LP Duane Allman: An Anthology Vol II. It’s jaw droppingly good, Allman and Curtis’ instrumental conversation still capable of raising the hair on your arms every time it cuts loose.

But the live cuts from the Fillmore, “Changes Parts I and II,” show Curtis at the top of his form live with the best version of his backing band The Kingpins with Cornell Dupree on guitar, Jerry Jemmott on bass, Bernard Purdie on drums. The cut crackles with energy, the King spitting out chunks of funky soul as the band thunders along like a locomotive barreling down a steep grade, strewing flaming cinders in all directions.

This thing requires great deal of serious contemplation. You’ll be wanting to hibernate in your man or woman cave, away from all outside distractions to do some aural research. On second thought, the hell with solitude. This stuff is so good that no matter where you let it loose, it’ll make everything else go away. Thanks, King- we appreciate it.