Monthly Archives: October 2012

Billy Ward and His Dominoes

At nineteen years of age, Sonny Wilson becomes Jackie Wilson, lead tenor for the nationally known Billy Ward and His Dominoes

Some people erroneously believe that Jackie Wilson had training as an opera singer. The  famous (or infamous) audiotape of Norm N. Nite interviewing Jackie Wilson may be the source of this misconception.

Norm N. Nite: “People have described your singing voice and style almost to be operatic.
Did you ever have any formal training in this area?”

Jackie Wilson: “Well, I can give credit to Mr. Billy Ward for that. He was a vocal coach at Carnegie Hall. I studied under him for about—well, for two years straight.”

Those unacquainted with Jackie Wilson or Billy Ward might assume the singer visited Ward once a week for voice lessons aimed at preparing him for a Met audition. In reality, Ward was Jackie Wilson’s employer.

The Nite interview contains some deliberately deceptive statements and several outright lies (see Quotes and Common Sense), so I have no idea whether or not this particular exchange was intentionally misleading. Whatever the case may be, Jackie Wilson did not even read music and certainly was not trained for opera. However, it is likely true that Ward actively coached Wilson in vocal technique for at least two years.

Jackie the valet. At age eighteen, Jackie Wilson went on tour with Billy Ward and His Dominoes, a well established and nationally popular act, as a valet for the performers. The Dominoes were a vocal quartet, and Ward composed some of their music, arranged it all, played keyboards, and occasionally sang with the group.

At the time, Jackie was under consideration for a spot in the quartet and quickly became the unofficial understudy for Clyde McPhatter, who was preparing to leave to form The Drifters. During this tour, Ward began coaching Wilson in vocal technique, almost certainly working on his breathing, phrasing, and diction. It is probably at this point that Jackie began to regularly sing scales, which he would later do routinely in preparation for performances.

After this first tour with the group, Jackie stayed in Billy Ward’s Greenwich Village apartment for several months until a new tour commenced, and the vocal coaching most likely continued throughout that time and the next tour. Legend has it that at some point during this period of training, Ward gave Wilson a photograph inscribed “To a rough stone I am polishing into a diamond.” Ward was not overstating his role. Aside from the singer himself, no one else did as much as Billy Ward to develop Jackie Wilson as a performer.

A few weeks after his nineteenth birthday, Jackie Wilson, who had by then officially replaced McPhatter on tour, was recording as the tenor lead of Billy Ward and His Dominoes. Between late 1952 and spring 1956, Billy Ward’s instruction and rehearsals would combine with the performance and recording experience as the leading voice in the quartet to ready Jackie Wilson for his solo career.

Marv Goldberg. Billy Ward and His Dominoes hold a prominent place in the history of rhythm and blues. Music historian Marv Goldberg has done the best research on the group, and I strongly recommend visiting his Web pages at www.uncamarvy.com for details about The Dominoes and other groups of their era. Goldberg interviewed a number of former Dominoes and some of their associates, learning the following from Joe Lamont’s son about recording in the primitive King/Federal studios:

Yusuf Lamont told me that his father said it was difficult to be in a studio with Jackie Wilson because he was basically a solo singer with a powerful voice that needed to be baffled. “Your ears would hurt after being around him in a studio.” Whereas microphones were usually placed fairly close to the singers, in Jackie’s case, it was located several feet away.

I refer everyone to Marv Goldberg for substantial and fascinating details about both Ward himself and the group, but I want to introduce a few facts here to help illuminate how life as a Domino shaped Jackie Wilson’s solo career.

Background on Billy Ward and His Dominoes. Billy Ward was a gifted musician, arranger, songwriter, and vocal coach. As a teenager, he won a national competition for a work he composed for the piano. When he returned to civilian life after service in the army, he studied both graphic art and music, eventually leaving Julliard to find employment in New York City as a vocal coach. While applying himself to paid positions in this capacity, he also took on helping young Black vocal groups around town. It was among these young people that he found Clyde McPhatter and the other early members of the group he formed and would later call The Dominoes.

Clyde McPhatter

Although most of the leads for The Dominoes were arranged for high tenor Clyde McPhatter, one of the group’s most famous recordings, “Sixty Minute Man,” featured bass singer Bill Brown boasting of his sexual prowess. Composed by Billy Ward and Rose Marks, an agent who ran the business end of the act, “Sixty Minute Man” is considered one of the first rock and roll records. It made the pop charts, although many radio stations refused to play it, and it became a number one hit on the Rhythm and Blues chart in 1951. For the next two years, The Dominoes would appear regularly on that chart, reaching number one again with “Have Mercy Baby,” one of McPhatter’s leads, but the group did not chart another record on the Hot 100. Throughout this period, Ward had the quartet touring on the Chitlin Circuit.

The first two singles released with Jackie Wilson singing lead were also hits on the Rhythm and Blues charts. “You Can’t Keep A Good Man Down” rose to number six and “Rags to Riches” went to number two. At this point Ward decided to gamble on establishing a less taxing and more prosperous future. He secured a contract for his group to play extended dates in Las Vegas, taking the act off the Chitlin Circuit in hopes of “crossover” success on the pop charts. “Crossover” success and the main Billboard chart meant catering to audiences that were primarily white, the demographic group that could afford upscale nightclubs and big collections of vinyl recordings.

With Jackie Wilson at center stage, the group became a hit in Las Vegas, but the dramatic reduction in the number of appearances before Black audiences meant that Billy Ward and His Dominoes disappeared from the Rhythm and Blues charts. However, just as Wilson prepared to leave the group for a solo career, his magnificent voice led them to a genuine Billboard Hot 100 hit, “St. Therese of the Roses.” In fact, the record rose all the way to the Top Twenty, peaking at number thirteen.

Lasting effects on Our Hero. Jackie Wilson has been quoted as saying that Billy Ward “was not an easy man to work for.” That opinion was shared by many of the singers Ward employed.

Above all, Billy Ward was The Boss. He paid his singers salaries. They did not share in the gate or record royalties. In fact, discussion of such topics among the singers was forbidden. Ward had exacting standards for personal appearance and conduct onstage and offstage, and he deducted not only expenses but also “fines” from his employees’ paychecks. Among other things, the vocalists could be fined for failing to shine their shoes, for consuming alcohol, or even for leaving the hotel without permission.

Once he figured out the financial arrangements, Clyde McPhatter complained bitterly about them. He was quoted as saying that he could hear his own voice coming out of a jukebox, but he could not afford to buy a coke so that he could sit down and enjoy the experience. Of course, McPhatter, who eventually drank himself to death, probably would not have wanted to restrict himself to Coca-Cola anyway.

But McPhatter wasn’t the only alcoholic tenor Ward groomed and paid. The restriction on drinking must have been difficult for Jackie Wilson as well, for even if Ward could not keep his singers from drinking altogether, the rules and the fines probably did curb their behavior significantly.

Although it was not easy to work for Billy Ward, Jackie Wilson did so for more than four years, and his later reference to Ward in the Nite interview shows that he clearly understood the value of this show business apprenticeship. Anyone doubting what Ward did for Wilson’s singing should listen to the horrid diction on the DeeGee label Sonny Wilson recording “Rainy Day Blues,” then check out the precision of songs Jackie recorded as a Domino, such as “Until the Real Thing Comes Along” or “Three Coins in the Fountain.”

Clockwise: Billy Ward, James Van Loan, Milton Merle, Cliff Givens, Jackie Wilson

More than voice lessons. However, Billy Ward’s influence on Jackie Wilson extended beyond teaching him vocal technique and requiring that Jackie live a disciplined existence. Ward’s determination to establish the Dominoes on the mainstream pop music charts and the steps he took to achieve this goal had to leave a deep impression on the young singer.

Black entertainers at this time faced an unpleasant truth: they could stay with their Black audience alone and remain poor, or they could seek fame and fortune with a broader audience, one that would be predominantly white.

Billy Ward made the choice to pursue that broader audience even though it meant forfeiting the comfort of living and working within the familiar and supportive network the Black community provided.

In the early 1950s, no single location manifested the isolation of Black artists striving for crossover success more starkly than Las Vegas, where audiences were overwhelmingly white and Black performers were not permitted to walk through the front doors of casinos in which they appeared. Today in America it is hard to imagine such a blunt daily affront to human dignity.

The vocal coaching, the discipline of preparing for performances, the years of laboring to please demanding Las Vegas audiences, the opportunity to learn how a successful show business act functioned day in and day out, and adherence to the goal of striving for success in unfamiliar territory were all highly valuable lessons for the very young man with the very extraordinary voice.

Jackie Wilson’s diction

Sixty Minute Man” featured a bass lead and was a major hit for Billy Ward and His Dominoes. After some time, Ward wrote a sequel to the song called “Can’t Do Sixty No More.” This song was recorded after Jackie Wilson joined the quartet, but again, it featured a bass lead. Eventually, Ward wrote a tune that more or less formed a trilogy with these songs but featured Our Hero on the lead vocal, “That’s How You Know You’re Growing Old.”

One of my longstanding, nagging questions related to a Jackie Wilson vocal arose from this recording. Jackie developed beautiful diction under Ward’s tutelage, but this particular song, recorded well into Jackie’s tenure with the quartet, contained words I could not decipher. Thanks to my friend Dennis West, I now have the lyrics straight. And thanks to my friend Extinct 327, it is now available again on YouTube.

“That’s How You Know You’re Growing Old”
(Words and music by Billy Ward)

Look out, then, that’s how you know you’re growing old!

She wants to tease you
She wants to squeeze you
She whispers, “Love me, Baby”
You’re getting sleepy
You’re feeling creaky
You only whisper, “Uh, uh, maybe”
That’s how you know
That’s how you know you’re growing old

Chorus:
Lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover, lover
You’re at the end of your road
Like old Jack Horner in the corner
Lay down your heavy load, load
That’s how you know
That’s how you know you’re growing old.

She loves the moon rise
Up in the June skies
It makes her feel so grooo-vy
You get no kicks, man
You’re in a fix, man
You want to see a movie
That’s how you know
That’s how you know you’re growing old

Scat singing

Although it’s associated almost exclusively with jazz, singers outside that genre have employed scat singing. [Check the conclusion of this post for a more complete explanation of the term.] Jackie Wilson used the technique effectively many times, although always in relatively short passages. You hear it on a live performance audiotape late in his career, as well as on the videotape of one of his last performances (below), on “That’s Why (I Love You So).” The “scat bits” appear at the 1:50 and 2:00 marks.

There are certain features of some Jackie Wilson recordings that I particularly like. For example, I love male backup singers with Jackie’s voice, and although there are relatively few songs that use them, many of those that do are among my favorites. These include all the versions I’ve heard of “She’s Alright.”

But I am also particularly fond of Jackie’s scat singing, and one of my favorite examples of it comes at the opening and closing of “When Will Our Day Come,” which I always think of as “Jackie’s civil rights song.” You can listen to this marvelous recording here.

You can also listen to Jackie interjecting a scat line into his masterful “It’s So Fine” (here). Frankly, I have no idea where to draw the proper limits of scat singing, but I include the much-loved opening of “So Much” (here), which my sister thought was some sort of “weird instrument” playing.

One more for now: “By the Light of the Silvery Moon” (here) is to many people’s surprise the flip side of “Reet Petite” and dates from Jackie’s first recording session with Dick Jacobs, who was delighted with Jackie’s scatting during the bridge. Jackie vocalizes so high that his biographer noted, “it sounds like a woman yodeling.”

Sammy and Ella’s tutorial. Scat singing (or scatting, a term which may be out of vogue now) is singing nonsense syllables or sounds or words that do not make literal sense. It allows the singer to play at being an instrumentalist and improvise “away from the lyrics.” Scat singing belongs properly to the world of jazz singing, where Ella Fitzgerald was the unchallenged queen of practitioners. Look at this old Ed Sullivan Show clip for a tutorial on the art form given by Miss Fitzgerald and the enormously talented Mr. Sammy Davis Jr. Sammy starts the scat singing at roughly the 1:23 mark

Keith Channer in St. Petersburg. The video below is an additional and very fine illustration of scat singing from our fellow Jackie Wilson aficionado, singer/pianist Keith Channer. Subscribe to Keith’s YouTube channel for a variety of musical treats in not only jazz, but also rock and other popular music genres. Don’t miss his wonderful tributes to Jackie Wilson (I gave him a hard time in my comment there, but he does a great job on “Baby Workout”) and Little Richard (“Good Golly Miss Molly”). Keith, who has recently returned from a tour in China, is featured below on an earlier tour, accompanied by Russian musicians as he performs “Take the A-Train.”

Northern Soul (Part Five)

Early in this blog, our friend Mark from Burton on Trent (known as Edge78a on this blog and YouTube) provided a list of twenty tracks as a study guide to help me understand the beat of Northern Soul. That playlist appears in Northern Soul (Part Three).

Recently he provided some additional information in a comment on this blog, noting that Americans often find the tracks Northern Soul devotees play from Motown and its subsidiary labels disconcerting, especially since some of the tracks are virtually unknown in the the United States. He offered a list of twenty from this category, which I have hyperlinked to YouTube postings below.

While most of the artists are well known to me, many of the recordings are new, with the big exceptions being Marvin Gaye’s “Can I Get A Witness” and “Love Is Like An Itching in My Heart” by The Supremes. I have never been a big fan of Gaye or The Supremes, but ironically, these very cuts are among the few I really like from him and them. (Maybe I have some latent affinity for Northern Soul after all?)

Some of the other artists, such as Marv Johnson (the singer Berry Gordy hoped could steal Jackie Wilson’s audience), the Tops, the Temps, Junior Walker and the All Stars, and Martha and the Vandellas, are ones I’ve liked for years, but only “Shake and Fingerpop” was among my faves on this list. (Do not miss the Shindig! live version.)

I’ve always been one of those unfashionable people who thinks Stevie Wonder is pretentious and admits to loathing most of his repertoire. Anything recorded after “Little” Stevie Wonder got big gives me a headache, so my cutoff point has always been “Fingertips.” Thanks, Edge, for the introduction to “Contract on Love,” which I had never heard until I looked it up for this list. It’s clearly “Little” Stevie Wonder stuff, and it’s wonderful stuff.

I’ve alphabetized Mark’s list by artist.

  1. Campbell, Choker, “Come See About Me
  2. Gaye, Marvin, “Can I Get A Witness
  3. Gladys Knight and the Pips, “If You Ever Get Your Hands on Love
  4. Johnson, Marv, “So Glad You Chose Me
  5. Junior Walker and the All-Stars, “Shake and Fingerpop” (Live on Shindig!)
  6. Martha and the Vandellas, “No One There
  7. Nero, Frances, “Keep On Loving Me
  8. Randolph, Barbara, “I Got A Feeling
  9. Ruffin, Jimmy, “Baby You’ve Got It
  10. Starr, Edwin, “I Want My Baby Back
  11. Taylor, Bobby, “Oh, I’ve Been Bless’d
  12. The Contours, “Just A Little Misunderstanding
  13. The Four Tops, “Ask the Lonely
  14. The Hit Pack, “Never Say No to Your Baby” (begins at 2:45 mark)
  15. The Originals, “Suspicion
  16. The Spinners, “I’ll Always Love You
  17. The Supremes, “Love Is Like An Itching In My Heart
  18. The Temptations, “Girl (Why You Wanna Make Me Blue)
  19. The Velvelettes, “These Things Will Keep Me Loving You
  20. Wonder, Little Stevie, “Contract on Love