Tag: Anti- Records

Despite a Sad And Beautiful World, Mavis Staples Still Transcends

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Such words as “legendary,” “transcendent,” and “magnificent,” while accurate, only skim the surface in describing the greatness of vocalist Mavis Staples. There’s no idiomatic area where she doesn’t excel and no song, regardless of origin or writer, that she can’t turn into a personal triumph. She’s also a genuine survivor, both in the familial (she’s the last living member of the Staple Singers) and socio-political sense (she’s a cultural warrior and champion of the Civil Rights era whose resonant voice has inspired generations of listeners).

For many artists, claiming they’ve gotten better with age is at best polite overstatement, and at worst woeful exaggeration. But Staples at 86 still has the authoritative edge, tonal quality, and lyrical flair that’s always marked her performances. It seems hard to believe she’s been singing since childhood, and listening to the 10 tracks on her newest release, Sad And Beautiful World (released November 7 by Anti), you hear the confident, jubilant sound of a vocal titan.

That Staples can cover with equal distinction and flair songs penned by Tom Waits, Curtis Mayfield, Gillian Welch & David Rawlings, Leonard Cohen, and Frank Ocean reaffirms her versatility. Producer Brad Cook smartly lets her voice dominate through each setting, regardless of instrumental backdrops, tempo or lyrical setting. Her spoken word narrative adds additional punch to the cover of Ocean’s “Godspeed” and underscores its recurring themes of urgency and redemption that fuel the album’s sensibility.

But the album also contains prominent message tracks, most notably “We Got To Have Peace,” a number whose tone and lyrics couldn’t be more timely in an era where it seems lunacy often runs supreme. “Anthem” and “Satisfied Mind” are just as powerful and energetic in their declarations of the importance of persistence, kindness, and goodwill. “Everybody Needs Love” provides the perfect finale, with Staples superbly punctuating its theme and completing a 38-minute epic work. Indeed, songwriter Kevin Morby has offered perhaps the best tribute to Staples’ brilliance possible, when he gave a press statement about what it meant to have her doing his song “Beautiful Strangers,” which is another memorable and passionate number.

“It isn’t easy to put into words what it feels like having one of the best, most important vocalists and cultural figures of both the 20th and 21st century sing one of my songs,” Morby said. “But hearing Mavis sing ‘Beautiful Strangers’ is hands down the greatest moment and highest honor of my career. Far beyond any kind of accolade or acclaim – having one of my biggest heroes sing something I wrote is the most validating and flattering thing that could ever happen to me as a songwriter and person. Thank you, Mavis.”

Staples has been awesome for so long, sometimes it’s easy to forget how many different periods and genres her artistry covers. The original family unit the Staple Singers were gospel and folk song giants. The unit included her sisters Cleotha and Yvonne, plus her brother Pervis, her father Pops, whose roots reached back to the seminal days of Delta blues, and Charlie Patton, who served as anchor, both vocally and on guitar. The Staple Singers began singing in Chicago churches in the late ’40s, became recording artists in the early ’50s, and earned their first hit with “Uncloudy Day” in 1952, recorded for the Black-owned label Vee-Jay. By the ’60s they were a cornerstone unit of the Civil Rights Movement, often accompanying Dr. Martin Luther King at rallies.

Mavis began really getting noticed as a solo performer during their transition in the late ’60s and early ’70s to a soul and pop unit. The decision to sign with Stax Records and the shift to secular music was one Pops often acknowledged as a controversial one, but it ultimately paid off as the group’s status elevated into crossover stars. They had eight Top hits in the early and mid-’70s; “I’ll Take You There” and “Let’s Do It Again” were chart toppers and “Who Took The Merry Out of Christmas” reached number two. Mavis also cut her first solo single in the late ’60s, then a full self-titled release for Stax in 1969. Their songs were expertly produced, featuring the crisp and outstanding backing of Booker T. & the MGs. Other essential hits included “I’ll Take You There” and “Respect Yourself.”

Slowly but surely, Mavis began to establish herself outside the Staples family trademark. Her soundtrack LP, A Piece of the Action on Curtis Mayfield’s label, helped her reach some new audiences, as did another self-titled mid-‘80s LP. But it was a pair of releases produced by Prince in the ’90s that really helped her reach the next generation of listeners. The second by the duo, The Voice, was another masterpiece. It included her magical version of Prince’s “Positivity,” as well as a cover of “Melody Cool” from the film Graffiti Bridge. Staples returned to the church in 1996 for a marvelous release, Spirituals & Gospels: Dedicated to Mahalia Jackson, that personified the close friendship that Jackson had with the entire Staples family and her influence on Mavis, personally and professionally.

Over the course of the 21st century, Mavis Staples has unquestionably become an iconic figure. The roster of artists with whom she’s worked over the course of her remarkable career is an astonishing one, both in terms of talent and musical approach. She’s recorded with jazz guitarist John Scofield, Los Lobos, Bob Dylan, Johnny Paycheck, Natalie Merchant, George Jones, Delbert McClinton, Aretha Franklin, Nona Hendryx, and Ann Peebles, to cite only a handful. Staples has also continued making emphatic message albums, among them the 2017 dynamo If All I Was Was Black. Her voice has been sampled by rappers and hip-hop and pop artists like Salt ‘N’ Pepa, Ice Cube, Ludacris, and Hozier.

Mavis also been featured in a host of television shows and films, among them The Tonight Show with Jay Leno, The Late Show With David Letterman, Conan, and “CBS Saturday Morning: Saturday Sessions,” and she was the featured performer on the very first episode of The Late Show With Stephen Colbert. Her film resume includes appearances in Martin Scorsese’s The Last Waltz and Antoine Fuqua’s documentary Lightning in a Bottle, about the Salute to the Blues concert at Radio City Music Hall in February 2003.

Mavis!, the first feature documentary about Staples and the Staple Singers, was directed by Jessica Edwards and had its world premiere at SXSW in March 2015. It was later screened in theaters and was broadcast on HBO in February 2016, eventually winning a Peabody Award. Her appearance with Mahalia Jackson at the 1969 Harlem Cultural Festival is among the many highlights in the award-winning documentary Summer of Soul, which was released in 2021. Staples has even been portrayed on film, played by Laura Kariuki in the 2024 hit film, A Complete Unknown.

Staples has rightly won numerous awards. The array includes three GRAMMYs and a GRAMMY Lifetime Achievement Award, induction into the Rock and Roll, Gospel Music, and Blues Halls of Fame, and having been a Kennedy Center Honoree. The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame honored her a second time in 2019 with the inaugural Rock Hall Honors Award for her solo work. Rolling Stone named her 56th among the “100 Greatest Singers of all Time” in 2008, though there was already no question about her inclusion in that select company.

Amazingly, there doesn’t seem to be any slowing down for Mavis Staples. She celebrated her 80th birthday at the Apollo Theater in 2019, returning to the famed venue where she first appeared as a teenager 63 years before that date. She did a series of collaborative birthday concerts that year with special guests that included David Byrne and Norah Jones. She also collaborated with Run the Jewels on the track “Pulling the Pin” from their studio album RTJ4. In 2022, Staples released Carry Me Home, a collaborative effort with the late Levon Helm that they recorded together at Helm’s Midnight Ramble in 2011.

She’s already announced upcoming tour dates for 2026 at three famous sites: Chicago’s Chicago Theatre, Nashville’s Ryman Auditorium, and New York’s Beacon Theatre. Mavis Staples also remains a voice for social justice. Way back in 2010, she performed at the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear alongside singer Jeff Tweedy. In 2011, she was joined onstage at the Outside Lands Music And Arts Festival by Arcade Fire singer Win Butler. The two performed a version of “The Weight” by The Band. Shortly after the release of her 2016 LP Livin’ On A High Note, produced by M. Ward with songs written for her by Nick Cave, Justin Vernon, Neko Case, and others, Staples issued these prophetic words:

I’ve been singing my freedom songs and I wanted to stretch out and sing some songs that were new. I told the writers I was looking for some joyful songs. I want to leave something to lift people up; I’m so busy making people cry, not from sadness, but I’m always telling a part of history that brought us down and I’m trying to bring us back up.

These songwriters gave me a challenge. They gave me that feeling of, “Hey, I can hang! I can still do this!” There’s a variety, and it makes me feel refreshed and brand new. Just like Benjamin Booker wrote on the opening track, “I got friends and I got love around me, I got people, the people who love me.” I’m living on a high note, I’m above the clouds. I’m just so grateful. I must be the happiest old girl in the world. Yes, indeed.

Anyone paying attention to the songs on Sad And Beautiful World knows that’s still the case with Mavis Staples’ music.

Photo Credit: Elizabeth De La Piedra

How Bettye LaVette Finally Learned to Let The Songs Sound Like Her (Part 1 of 2)

Posted on by Editor

When Bettye LaVette covered “Your Time to Cry” nearly fifty years ago, she wrung every ounce of hurt and drama from the lyrics, but especially on the chorus. She stretches out the word “time” until it breaks into two syllables, implying a similar emotional break that doesn’t undercut the song’s determination, but shows what cost she has paid for it. It’s a riveting performance, a raw, southern soul slow burner that should have established her as one of the finest R&B voices of the 1970s.

During those same sessions, she also covered Neil Young’s “Heart of Gold” and John Prine’s “Souvenirs,” among other tunes, yet for reasons that were never made clear, Atlantic Records shelved the project, declining to promote “Your Time to Cry” as a single or to release her debut album. That has been a defining moment in LaVette’s long career — and one she subtly and slyly addresses on her new album, Blackbirds. She is the woman wronged, the embodiment of the music industry’s disregard for talent, especially that of Black women. For three decades LaVette continued to work, developing and strengthening her voice and expanding her repertoire. She explains, “When people say I had a resurgence, I want to say, ‘No, I never stopped. You just didn’t come to where I was!’”

Now, nearly fifty years after recording “Your Time to Cry” in Muscle Shoals, Alabama, she has become one of the finest and most accomplished singers in R&B or any other genre for that matter, with a string of albums that showcase her stylistic range as well as her deep understanding of pop history. After releasing a comeback record on the tiny Blues Express label in 2003, she caught the ear of Andy Kaulkin at Anti- Records, who signed her as a new artist at the height of the soul revival of the 2000s.

Since then, she’s covered The Who for the Kennedy Centers Honors ceremony (famously bringing Pete Townshend to tears), recorded with Drive-By Truckers (back in the Shoals, for an album appropriately titled The Scene of the Crime), and reimagined Dylan tunes so thoroughly even his own bandleader didn’t recognize them. And those original Shoals sessions did finally get an official release, first in 2000 on a small Dutch label and again in 2018 from vinyl specialists Run Out Groove.

Blackbirds is among her most powerful albums: a collection of songs by female artists active from the late 1940s through the early 1960s, including Nancy Wilson, Dinah Washington, and Nina Simone, whom LaVette refers to collectively as “the bridge I came across on.” It’s an album that celebrates these artists, but also emphasizes their shared experiences as Black women in the music industry. “Every broken promise broke my heart,” she sings on “Book of Lies,” a song made famous by Ruth Brown. Her voice is lower than it was in 1972, but no less expressive, and she makes that sentiment more than just romantic; it’s also a professional lament, addressed to the industry that derailed her career so long ago.

We spoke with LaVette about Blackbirds in our second half of the interview; here, she tells BGS about her early hopes and disappointments.

BGS: What was your impression when you were down in Muscle Shoals? Had you been there before you recorded?

LaVette: No! What would I be doing there?! What would you go there for, if you weren’t going to record? They had to win me over. I’d wanted to record in New York and Chicago. I always wanted to be very bougie. But after I had accepted how different my voice was — how un-girly-like it was — I identified more with Solomon Burke and Wilson Pickett and Otis Redding. After I was down there for a day, I was absolutely as happy as I could be. They were absolutely wonderful — and wonderful to me. When I got back to Detroit, I could not stop talking about them, especially with the way they wrote and read music.

Were you ever told why your ‘72 sessions were never released?

That has been one of the big mysteries in my career. I can think of that album and my dog Mickey, that I had when I was 11, and just burst into tears at any time. I had Brad Shapiro, who was Wilson Pickett’s producer. I had the Swampers, who I had wanted. I was at the label that I had loved. But when they told me they weren’t going to release the album, I got up under the dining room table and stayed three or four days. My friends brought me food and wine and joints. I’m telling you, I’m about to cry now. It was to be my first album, after having already had a string of singles. For years, all I had was “Your Turn to Cry.” Whenever people would come in with their latest whatever-it-is at my house or at a party, I always kept that song handy, maybe on a cassette. I’d say, “I made a record that was really, really good one time. Y’all wanna hear it?”

I just found out — when I say “just found out,” I meant in the last twenty years, maybe — that it was a split between Ahmet Ertegun and Jerry Wexler. Jerry Wexler was on my side and Ahmet was on Aretha’s side. For the longest time I never knew what happened. I had no idea, and it sounded so stupid, for thirty years, to tell people, “I have no idea.” Many people had heard “Your Time to Cry,” and they said, “If that stuff is anything like this, I can’t understand.” When Atlantic put “Your Time to Cry” out, it was just out. They didn’t mention it to anyone. They just put it out. What you wanted at a label was to have one of everything, and maybe a junior one of everything, too. So they could see where that wouldn’t work with me and Aretha. I think Diana [Ross] is probably the reason I was never at Motown. Those personalities wouldn’t have worked.

Judging by reissues from those sessions, you had already worked up a pretty diverse repertoire.

My manager, Jim Lewis, who was the assistant to the president of the musicians’ union in Detroit and a trombone player with the Jimmie Lunceford Orchestra, was a hard, hard taskmaster. When we started to work this management thing out, he said, “You’re cute. You’ve got a cute little waistline and a cute little butt, but you’re going to have to learn some songs, because there’s a possibility you may not be a big star.” That’s not a given, but you can be a singer for the rest of your life, if you will learn a lot of songs. He said, “You’re a different kind of singer, and you should learn that.”

How so?

I’ve accepted that I sound more like James Brown than Doris Day. But I used to think I had to sound the way Nancy Wilson sounds, which discouraged me from even wanting to learn how to sing. The thought that I could sing it and it didn’t have to sound beautiful didn’t even occur to me, until Jim came along. He told me, “Just let ‘em come out of your mouth. They’re gonna sound like you.” So I had to satisfy myself with the songs. I had to choose songs that I really like, and I would tell people, “Do you like the song or do you like the record? Because those are two different things.”

Jim made me learn a lot of songs. He insisted I learn “Lush Life,” which permitted me to be comfortable at the Carlyle Hotel for ten years. He insisted I learn “Sweet Georgia Brown” and “God Bless the Child,” which put me in the lead role in Bubbling Brown Sugar. He made me learn country and western. Otherwise, I would have been fighting with the local songwriters over them giving songs to Aretha and not giving them to me, you know? I was able to say, “Hey, I can go on and just be real good.” So I approach what I’m doing a little differently. I thought Jim was telling me to sing these songs like these people, but he just wanted me to sing them how they came out of my mouth. However they come out, sing them like that. Now that I’ve accepted that, I’m not so concerned about how it sounds, but how I feel about the song. That helps me present it. I’m very grateful to him.

That comes through on these sessions from 1972, where you’re covering Neil Young and John Prine and doing a song that Bowie was doing at the same time. There’s that range.

Well, it was after that that I did “What Condition My Condition Is In” by Kenny Rogers and the First Edition. And that got me another record contract. Kenny Rogers came to Detroit and Jim said, “Why don’t you take it and let him hear it?” I didn’t think he’d like it, but Jim said, “You don’t know how it’ll sound to him.” So I took it to him and Kenny loved it. His brother, Lelan Rogers, was just starting a record label called Silver Fox, and they flew me down to Nashville. I was with them for four or five years, but still no album. All these albums were set to come out and didn’t come out.

After finally breaking out in the 2000s, you established yourself as an interpreter of songs. What do you bring to a song? How do you make something familiar sound like you? Or is that even something you’re thinking about at this point?

That isn’t something that I plan or set out to do. When I hear the song and start to sing it, that’s just the way I sing it. The thing that makes it new is that it’s different. I doubt I could come up with anything new. But it is different, and so I need for people to change their attitude about it. That was one of the things with Interpretations, my British rock album. The thing that helped me the most recording that album was that I didn’t know most of the songs. I had never heard most of them. They didn’t play them a lot on Black radio. So all I did was just lift the lyrics and sing them the want I wanted to.

Michael Stevens was brilliant, and he did the arrangement of “Love, Reign O’er Me” by The Who that I did for the Kennedy Center Honors. When I went to rehearsal, they got ready to go into the tune, and I told him, “I can’t sing it like that.” And he said, “Well, sing it the way you want to sing it.” So I sang the song to him a cappella, and he took a break and after a while came back and redirected everybody. He’d been listening to this song for thirty years — since he was a teenager! — and I’d only been listening to it for three or four days.

Something similar happened on the Bob Dylan album, Things Have Changed. We had Bob Dylan’s guitarist, Larry Campbell, playing on it, and he had a ball. He said, “I’ve wanted to hear these a different way for seventeen years!” Because he knew about the inner workings of each one of the tunes, more than any of us, he started to find clever little things, probably, that he had always wanted to play, and he played them for me.

How was working with these songs on Blackbirds different?

Working on this album was intimidating, in that I didn’t want to bastardize any of the songs or cast them off. I didn’t want to do anything to them just for the sake of doing something, you know? That was kind of daunting. But that’s the thing that makes Steve [Jordan, producer] so important to me. When we develop an arrangement, what I usually do is I’ll get my keyboard player to go in the direction that I want to take the song.

When Steve hears me with the piano, singing it the way I want to sing it, that speaks to him to put something else in there. He no longer hears Billie Holiday’s interpretation of “Strange Fruit,” and he arranges what he hears in his head, not what the other record was. I’m not going to change any of the notes — I’m just going to put them in different places and say them differently, so you can’t follow that trajectory that you know from the record. It has to be different.

(Editor’s Note: Read part two of our interview with Bettye LaVette.)

Photo credit: Joseph A. Rosen