Marvin Gaye, David Ruffin, Melvin Franklin, James Brown. And now the greatest voice of all. Levi Stubbs. Silenced. Not even a whisper remains. Oh there are recordings of the Four Tops for our grand children to reference. Scratchy videos on YouTube to replay. Even Ampex Masters locked away tight in the hermetically sealed vaults of the Graystone Ballroom on Detroit's Woodward Avenue. But that voice. That particular voice. That baritone profundo with the range of a tenor that was unique to Mr. Stubbs. Gone forever. |
|---|
In 1966, I was working in Congressman Adam Clayton Powell's office when I met a messenger from the Washington Post who told me about this record company he'd worked for in Detroit. He certainly dressed the part of a down-on-his-luck theatrical person: maroon sharkskin suit, matching alligator shoes, camel-colored cashmere coat, and, of course, the regulation thick and thin socks. I didn't think much of his story at first. But I did a little homework and found out the names he had been dropping were listed on Motown singles. This messenger claimed, he had been an assistant to Mickey Stevenson, so spotting the name on a 45, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. His name was Charles and he was anxious to prove he still had connections. With the Motortown Revue in town at the Howard Theater, Charles promised to get me backstage and introduce me to the various Motown acts that were headlining that weekend. I showed up the night of the show at the Howard Theatre at the backstage door which was guarded by a bulldog of a man named Jules. He promptly said, "The Marines couldn't get you in here, kid. Go buy your ticket like everybody else." I hung out for about a half-hour waiting for this Charles to show up. Of course, he was a no-show, and I knew there was no way that Jules would ever budge. Luckily I spotted a neighbor of mine, who ran the lighting board at the Howard. He ushered me inside and I sat with him in the control booth for the first part of the show. At a break, I overheard the voice of Levi Stubbs complaining to Smokey Robinson that the Tops' latest record had been done for almost two months and was being held up because they couldn't get a cover developed. It wasn't as if I were eavesdropping. You could hear Levi's aggravation all the way out on U Street. Smokey explained to Levi that Bernard Yeszin, Motown's freelance designer, was still missing in action. It sounded to me like an opportunity in the making, so I chirped up: "I can do your album cover and I can do it for you overnight, ready to print" Everyone laughed. The nerve of some kid to butt in and claim he could do anything for somebody as almighty as the Four Tops. But to my surprise, Obie Benson of the Tops actually believed in me. "Look, give the kid a shot," he said. "If he can come back here in 24 hours with our album cover and you can take it back to Detroit with you, we've got a problem solved. If not, we'll just have Jules, shoot him." Everybody had a good laugh at my expense. I didn't care. I knew the opportunity of a lifetime when I saw it. I went home, took out my art supplies, stayed up all night and did about 10 different ideas for Four Tops, On Top. I had gotten some black-and-white lobby shots and candid photos from the Howard's front office so I could do something photographic. I chose a photo taken on top of a rock formation at New York's Central Park. I carefully trimmed the background away from the four figures and replaced the Rocks with hand- white lettering on a black back ground. I knew that if they were already behind schedule they didn't need a full-color rendering to slow them down. I brought my creations back the next night. Everybody was shocked to see me show up. When I told them my reason for using black and white, both Smokey and Levi thought the design was terrific. Within a week I was flying first-class to Detroit. I was picked up at the airport by Ron Wakefield, and taken straight to the once-elegant Lee Plaza Hotel located just eight blocks west of Motown's offices at 2648 West Grand Boulevard. The next day, Mrs. Esther, Gordy Edwards made me an offer right on the spot. She said her brother, Mr. Berry Gordy, Jr. was thrilled with my work, that the Tops had a hot record at the time and this was going to save their day. She asked if I could start work immediately. I said absolutely. The first time I met Mr. Gordy, on the steps of Hitsville. He told me in no uncertain terms what I was getting into: "If you take the R and the Y out of my name, you'll know exactly who I am." His statement made it abundantly clear that I couldn't screw up, and that I had, in effect, the eyes of the world on my work. I was only 19 in a teenaged dream but I knew I could not afford in any way, shape or form to underestimate the trust of the Gordy family. Out of profound respect, I call him Mr. Gordy to this day. I spent two years on the road with the Tops. And another year in Vegas with the Tops and the Temptations. In Vegas Levi only played the five dollar slots. And every time he played he hit. That's how lucky he was. At the turn of the century Levi's luck ran out. A series of strokes and a bout with lung cancer in 2000 struck him from the stage and the group he had fronted since 1953. NPR's Karen Grigsby Bates described Levi's voice as being like "a velvet scarf pulled over gravel." Four Tops leader Abdul "Duke" Fakir called the late Levi Stubbs "one of the best singers in the world, period, of all time." "He had such power," Fakir said. " He could do anything with his voice. He could take you anywhere with it. He could take you to a love scene. He could take you dancing. He could take a great old standard and make you feel like you're right there in that song. Just an amazing voice, an amazing interpreter, an amazing man." Even more importantly, Fakir noted to Reuters, Levi "was dedicated to us. He had many chances and many offers to be lured away into his own solo world, but he never wanted that. He said, 'Man, all I really want to do is sing and take care of my family, and that's what I'm doing, so all is well. Everything else that doesn't include you guys, it doesn't mean a thing to me.' That kind of character and commitment is really hard to find these days." Levi Stubbs died in his sleep in his home in Detroit. I got the call Saturday morning from Angela. I went immediately to YouTube to hear the legacy the voice of voices would leave to those who cared to hear what was lost. Technology is a poor substitute for reality. Sunday night I got an IM from Lena who had no idea who Levi was. Reluctantly, I sent her to the only original Tops recording on YouTube. Immediately she understood the loss. All I could think about was one of the immortal Holland, Dozier, Holland lyric lines that proved to be the perfect epitaph. It's just the same old song. But with a different meaning since you've been gone. Think About It. Comment on this story on the new MadAve blog
|
|---|
WEDNESDAY ABOUT ME MOST READ MAD009 MAD023 MAD025 MAD072 MAD006 MAD059 MAD060 MAD066 MAD095 MAD015 MAD026 MAD030 MAD021 MAD071 MAD092 MAD100 LINKS WE LIKE POWER BLOGS RECENT MAD 186 MAD 178 MAD 177 MAD 176 MAD 171 MAD 167 MAD 160 MAD 159 MAD 158 MAD 156 MAD 155 MAD153 MAD150 MAD149 MAD148 MAD147 MAD146 MAD145 MAD144 MAD143 MAD142 MAD141 MAD140 MAD139 MAD138
|
|---|
 |
|
|---|---|
|
|
|---|