Right, let’s get this straight. The creation and implementation of a non-disclosure agreement (NDA) is to guard privileged trade or personal information. As such, it is one way of interpreting the UK’s Data Protection Act, which gives individuals and organisations the right to privacy, and control over how divulged information is used. From a ghostwriter’s or biographer’s perspective, NDAs are a necessary part of the day job when working with clients. In some cases, as with mutually agreed (or “two-way”) NDAs used in commercial situations, it can even protect the rights of both parties.
The theme of NDAs and writer responsibilities to uphold their terms has raised its head most recently as a result of the kafuffle between former Health Secretary Matt Hancock and political journalist / writer Isabel Oakeshott. The leak of over 100,000 WhatsApp messages by Oakeshott and The Telegraph has led to a mountain of potentially far-reaching incriminations, adding to Hancock’s already tainted reputation during and since the Covid pandemic. This week’s main talking point from the leaks has been his rejection of advice presented by Chief Medical Officer Chris Whitty to test all residents going into care homes in England. A matter denied by Hancock but as yet to be elucidated.
While there may be a legal and moral obligation for writers to work within the confines of an NDA, there are no shortage of examples where they have been used in malevolent ways; ensuring that the dirty linen of unscrupulous commercial or institutional entities are kept firmly in the wash box, and that mouths of employees or contracted individuals are zipped tightly shut. The fact that in 2019, Matt Hancock pledged to remove NDAs used in the NHS, with the intention of giving whistle-blowers the freedom to speak out about concerns within the organisation, is an irony and at odds with his behaviour now.
As far as Isabel Oakeshott is concerned, I reckon I could easily pick out those individuals from a crowd who would rather exert their knee-jerk attack on her integrity as a journalist than defend her actions for what may turn out to be the greater good. Possibly the same people who feel Matt Hancock was only doing his job to the best of his abilities in unprecedented times. Hmm.
Either way, both parties are equally unwholesome. Only sinners and no saints feature in WhatsAppgate. Along with her professional relationship with Michael Ashcroft and Biteback Publishing, the company that published Hancock’s memoir, Oakeshott’s past trail of scandal-mongery was already strewn, with – yes – more leaking of Tweets, text messages and emails. Then again, that only makes the current situation more odd in that Hancock thought it a wise move to share all with this particular individual for his book.
And hang on a minute. At present we don’t know the actual nature of what the NDA terms were, or the fine detail of how they were breached. Pro-Hancock Oakeshott-haters shouldn’t forget that breaching an NDA can be legally upheld if failure to disclose information would otherwise stash a criminal act out of sight, or if the exposed content could be used as evidence in court. The problem is that these are often retrospective legal findings; telling all is a risk that the potential exposer has to weigh up themselves before taking the leap. Let’s see how Oakeshott’s “in the public interest” argument stands up in court. The Telegraph has reportedly been sifting through the messages for months. How much content is an indictment of Hancock’s own or other colleagues’ past actions will all come out in the wash over time.
The legal ramifications of a data breach, as all journalists, newspapers and publishers are acutely aware, can include a court injunction to stop further bean-spilling as a minimum. Then there are a couple of biggies; a client claim for damages, or a fine imposed by the Information Commissioner’s Office of up to £17.5 million for misprocessing of personal information, including data leaking. No doubt damages will be one hole Hancock is going down, but you can bet Oakeshott and The Telegraph have their backsides covered.
There’s no question that elements of the Data Protection Act and the GDPR relating to the non-sharing of data, and the collection and processing of minimum information required “for purpose only” have been contravened. But there is something to consider about the spirit of the law. Let’s not forget Hancock and the Tories have a lot answer for. Where to even start? The care home scandal, denials about national shortage or distribution issues of PPE (those who know, know – I was working in ICU at the time), NHS staff “rewarded” with a 1% pay rise (actually a cut below the rate of inflation), test and trace contracts worth billions of pounds dished out to Tory pals. Oh, and there’s the matter of an extra marital snog with an aide on CCTV during social distancing restrictions.
Let’s just hope the Scales of Justice prevail, unless of course Lady Justice herself is in on the act.
(Copyright 2023). E. Mark Windle is a freelance writer and biographer, working independently, as a senior writer with Story Terrace (London, UK), and for Sheridan Hill / Real Life Stories LLC (North Carolina, USA). Contact him viahttps://windlefreelance.com/contact/
As North Broad Street Records goes from strength to strength, September sees the arrival of the seventh vinyl release in their series of quality previously unissued soul recordings. NBS 007 takes us to the Windy City for two fine tracks by the group who previously gave us a northern soul classic on Jacklyn Records.
A key figure in this particular origin story is West Yorkshire record collector and DJ Dave Box. When Dave passed away in 2018, the UK soul community lost a vital connection with some of the finest Chicago soul artists of all time. Boxy’s involvement on the soul scene goes further back than most—Normanton Baths soul nights from 1967, the all-nighters which followed in the early 1970s, and in more recent years, the Wilton and Frobisher events. Dave’s close friendship with a number of recording artists culminated in some UK stage appearances which discerning soul fans had only dreamed of experiencing. His commitment to the scene was unyielding, and the legacy continues with this latest release by North Broad Street.
The Lovemasters are of course best known for their solitary 45 release “Pushin’ and Pullin’ ”. Considering the record has been known to soul fans and collectors for decades, it’s ironic that the group’s history has only come to light in relatively recent years. In 2009 the late, great Chicago collector Bob Abrahamian managed to track down and secure an interview with founder member Edith Andrews for his Sitting in the Park broadcasts, ensuring that The Lovemasters’ story was documented for posterity.
By the time Edith Andrews had formed The Lovemasters, she’d already amassed a lengthy resume of singing and playing music. Born and raised on Chicago’s South Side, Edith’s love for singing started at school, and her musical ability was nurtured through her teenage years at the Chicago Conservatory of Music where she studied piano. Entry into the world of secular music involved singing doowop hits of the day by The Spaniels, The El Dorados, and The Dells with her classmates, before leaving high school and forming The Tonettes with three of her white co-workers from First National Bank in downtown Chicago.
The girl group fell short of signing to Chanson due to parental concerns over contract wording, and inevitably The Tonettes drifted apart. Determined to stay in the business, Edith placed an advert in the Chicago Defender in 1967 in the quest to find vocalists for a new group. Male or female, it didn’t matter: as long as they were as serious as Edith about trying to make it in the music industry.
Four replied, and three got the job: James Simmons (baritone), Michael Vonse (lead first tenor / falsetto), and Ronald (Ron) Murray (bass / baritone). A name was chosen—The Toronados, in line with the usual custom of adopting automobile makes of the day—and rehearsals commenced. Within weeks they were approached by a local booking agent looking for a support act for a young Tyrone Davis who was still signed with Four Brothers at the time and due to perform at a ballroom venue on 63rd Street. The Toronados fitted the bill perfectly, and performed mainly Motown covers on stage that night to an appreciative crowd.
Regular gigs followed. Over the next couple of years the addition of musicians Rich Sansky on drums, Willie Riser on bass, and Phil Crow on lead guitar completed the group. Now known as The Lovemasters, bookings took them to some pretty interesting venues around Chicago, including Cook County Jail and a detention centre for boys, but also out of state for the first time to St. Louis, Missouri and various clubs in Iowa.
The Lovemasters’ signing to Jacklyn in the early 1970s was the result of an introduction by a mutual friend to local record producer and businessman Johnny Haygood. Operating from a record store at 2200 East Seventy-Fifth Street, the Jacklyn label was one of Haygood’s many enterprises, named after one of his daughters, and essentially a vehicle to promote the singing talent of his stepson, one Darrow Fletcher. Outside of the family circle, a couple of ‘significant others’ were also associated with the label. Singer-songwriter Johnny Moore and his record producing, song-writing partner Jack Daniels had first worked together on Four Brothers and Bright Star material before arriving at Jacklyn. “Pushin’ and Pullin’ “ was the first record on the label to be credited to Johnny Moore, and was based on a popular dance craze of the time.
That was to be the group’s only release for Jacklyn, and with limited airplay the record languished. The Lovemasters’ contract was due to expire, and with no real sign of success with Haygood’s venture, most of the members agreed to split from the label (though Edith did appear on occasional later recordings for Haygood). That meant hitting the road again for a few years before returning to the studio, this time to cut a demo for Curtom. Curtis Mayfield was impressed enough to sign them but the writing was on the wall—Curtom’s halcyon days were on the wane, and there was no immediate call for the group to record. With The Lovemasters locked into the contract with Curtom, they were unable to record for another label. A few more gigs in the city followed, but eventually Edith and the boys called it a day in 1977. Curtom as a non-starter was part of the issue (the label eventually closed in 1980), but all admitted that a rest was overdue from years of hectic weekend performances. Ten years was pretty a reasonable tenure for any group.
Fast-forward twenty years. Over that time, Dave Box and wife Val were visiting Chicago on a frequent basis, record hunting and strengthening relationships with the likes of Chuck Bernard, Jimmy Burns and other industry professionals. A chat one evening over a catfish dinner with producer Jack Daniels led to the exchange of a telephone number for Daniels’ former partner, and a long lasting friendship began between Dave and Johnny Moore. The circle was now complete. By the 2000s, Dave was encouraging various acts to come over to the UK to perform on stage. Among those were Jackie Ross and Syl Johnson, who in 2006 provided an unforgettable appearance at his regular stomping ground, the Frobisher Suite in Stanley Ferry. Sadly, Johnny Moore passed away the previous year or he would have been there too, though Dave did manage to pay homage, working with Garry Cape on the excellent Grapevine CD anthology of Moore’s work.
Regarding the North Broad Street release under the spotlight: these recordings are brought to you via a collaboration with Tim Brown, and an unissued Universal Recording Corp. acetate originally sourced from Dave Box’s collection. We know the acetate was destined for Jacklyn, and by deduction was likely produced sometime around 1972. Without the luxury of any credits displayed on the disc, Johnny Moore’s involvement in production can’t be confirmed, but it certainly is plausible given the circumstances of how Dave acquired it. “If You See Kate”, is a heavy bass driven funk number with a psychedelic edge, aurally in a similar vein to Sam Dees’ dark Atlantic numbers, though the message here is more about the pain of knowing his girl has gone rather than a commentary on inner-city life. The song will actually be known to collectors through the Buddy Lamp version on Duke and French Disques Vogue from 1971—in fact both versions appear to share the same backing track. Duke may be a Texas imprint, but credits on the Lamp version reveal Detroit connections. Johnny Haygood worked with Don Mancha regularly through the recordings of his stepson Darrow Fletcher and others artists, so perhaps it’s no surprise that Jacklyn was also considering the composition. For completion, North Broad Street have also included the acetate flip, “Let’s Stay Together”.
So then, yet another quality recording and a fine exercise in historical preservation from North Broad Street to add to the collection. “If You See Kate” will be available to order from midday 3rd September at https://northbroadst.co.uk
Acknowledgements: Released under licence via Ace Records for Darrow Fletcher. North Broad Street would like to thank Val Box and Tim Brown for making this release possible. Thanks also to Val Box, Garry Cape and Jock O’Connor for article assistance.
(Copyright 2022). E. Mark Windle is a freelance writer and biographer, working independently, as a senior writer with Story Terrace (London, UK), and for Sheridan Hill / Real Life Stories LLC (North Carolina, USA). Contact him viahttps://windlefreelance.com/contact/
As biographers, we are in a privileged position. Rarely do individuals expose their life story, or at least a significant chunk of it, in such detail to another party outside of their immediate family and social circle, perhaps other than in counselling (or to their confessor). Clients welcome us into their lives over several interview sessions to share recollections of positive or traumatic life events, hopes and fears, achievements and failings, lessons learned through their experience and their advice for the younger generation or for those yet to come. A huge amount of personal information is imparted in this collaboration, and the writer’s moral and legal obligation is to assure the storyteller it will be kept discretely.
Data protection may not be a topic always at the forefront of non-fiction creative minds, but it should be. The legal consequences of leaked personal information can be catastrophic, and the damage to the writer’s professional reputation irreparable. Financial implications can also be long lasting. The Information Commissioner’s Office—the UK’s data processing watchdog and regulator—has the power to deliver penalties of up to £17.5M for failure to maintain personal information safely, or to report and manage data leaks when they have occurred.
Most countries have some form of legal framework surrounding the core philosophy that individuals have an undisputed right to privacy and control over how their personal information is used. In the UK we have the Data Protection Act 2018, which underpins further legislation for data processing provided by the ICO in the form of the UK General Data Protection Regulation (UK GDPR is essentially a subtle adaptation of pre-Brexit EU regulations).
Combined, the Data Protection Act and UK GDPR highlight a number of fundamental responsibilities for anyone holding third party personal information:
Information must be used lawfully
Its purpose must be limited (only collect the type data required for the reason made clear to the client; data must not be recycled for any undisclosed use)
Data collection must be minimised—only collect the quantity of data required for the purpose intended
Data kept must be accurate and up to date
Storage of data must be limited (kept only for as long as necessary)
Integrity and confidentiality must be maintained (ensure data is stored securely)
So what exactly is personal data? The ICO definition is “any information that relates to an identified or identifiable individual”. Immediately, we think of a name, maybe a national insurance or social security number, an email address or bank account details. For any business or sole trader, the ICO demands a demonstration of accountability through the implementation of risk assessment, privacy statements, and contingency plans in the event of data breaches. Self-employed writers who directly process personal information, such as that required to obtain client payment or for communication purposes, will fall under this category and should be registered annually with the ICO to formally declare compliance to UK GDPR. Fully contracted employees of biography service providers (as opposed to freelancers) may be less likely to require registration, but a wise move is for all writers to consult ICO criteria for mandatory registration and risk assessment if they feel unsure about the legal implications of how they handle data.
At the end of the day, whether or not you are a data processor in the eyes of the ICO, everyone is bound by general principles of data protection under the Act, and there are other forms of personal information that require protection, including some unique to our profession. Assuming the biographer has done their job well, a relationship of trust evolves over a series of one-to-one sessions and peripheral research. As the client opens up, the inquiry elicits storytelling riddled with all sorts of nuggets: times, places, dates, names, events and relationships. This information may relate directly to the storyteller, or to friends and family, or other third parties including businesses and institutions. All of this is privileged information. In certain hands, it’s pretty hard to think of more potentially person-identifiable material than a detailed recording, transcription or written draft of a client’s life story.
We also know that it is human nature to relay life events with a twist. Personal perspective given in the course of interview is not always the same as truth. This is another reason why personal information should be held dear—so that conversations further down the line can clarify inaccuracies or what may be potentially defamatory if prematurely put out in the public domain. Not all information collected in interview is destined for the final manuscript: the writer sifts content as the manuscript draft develops. But the fact remains that all content shared must be protected. It goes beyond the written word too—consider photographs, documents and certificates shared by the storyteller to support anecdotes or to illustrate achievements. The subject should be assured from the outset that any information collected during client-writer interactions will be dealt with sensitively, confidentially, will only be kept for as long as necessary, and used only for the purpose intended.
So, what practical steps are involved for the biographer? A logical start would be a review of the actual means of storage. Good practice involves centralisation. Keeping data in as few places as possible doesn’t only mean easier access, but also less likelihood of information less to be forgotten or lost. It goes without saying that storage should be as secure as possible. Some form of locked facility such as a cabinet—in a secure building—is the obvious option for most physical material like writer-client contracts, letters, photographs, certificates, and hand-written manuscripts. Avoid hoarding previous book drafts in physical page form.
As far as digital content is concerned, interview sessions recorded on mobile phones or other devices should be deleted when no longer required, or if needed for later work, transfer them over to a protected digital file. Word processing documents, communications, scanned photos or audio files can be password-protected individually or contained within a password-protected central folder for each project. USB devices are notoriously easy to misplace and in reality are now obsolete—other alternative back-up technologies are available. If out and about, perhaps travelling to a client’s home or other venue to conduct interviews, laptops, recording equipment and paperwork should always be carried with the writer, or at least kept out of sight in a locked car boot if not in use. None of this is rocket science of course. Equally it’s easy to overlook security or momentarily let vigilance slip.
A final word for now: the requirement for keeping data only as long as necessary (then to be destroyed or deleted) differs depending on the nature of the content kept, even for the same client or writing project. In the UK, for self employed individuals and organisations, information held for client payment collection purposes requires retention for at least six years, as Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs office has legal authority to recall records for up to this period for tax audit activities. Other information, such as transcripts or formative and final drafts and annotations should be kept only until the job is done. Some kind of milestone usually marks this point, such as an editor-approval of a final manuscript, or final book production and publication.
Data protection is a legal requirement. But it’s also about maintaining reputation, and a declaration of respect for others. If you can demonstrate the methods you take to keep your subject’s information safe, data protection can even be a marketing tool, instil trust, and enhance the client-writer relationship. Read more about the importance of data protection, the work of the ICO, and requirements to meet UK GDPR at https://ico.org.uk/
Copyright 2022. E. Mark Windle is a freelance writer and biographer, working independently, as a senior writer with Story Terrace (London, UK), and as a writer for Sheridan Hill / Real Life Stories LLC (North Carolina, USA). Contact him via https://windlefreelance.com/contact/
Music historians will argue over the exact origins of the music industry in Nashville, although any stance depends on the genre under debate, and how far back one is willing to go. The predominance of country music is undeniable, with its roots planted in Celtic and European folk songs and instruments brought to the US by early immigrants. In the 1920s, Nashville’s first radio station WSM cemented the city’s country music status with Grand Ole Opry broadcasts of mountain songs and hillbilly music. These styles would later contribute to what is now known as the ‘third’ generation of country music in the 1950s and 1960s, showcased by the bluegrass of Roy Acuff and associated artists on the Grand Ole Opry stage. Since then, country music has never really looked back.
But although country music has made Nashville what it is today, the African-American influence on musical growth in the city cannot be ignored. Fisk University was a missionary initiative formed to provide education for emancipated African Americans following the Civil War. In 1871, the Fisk Jubilee Singers took their spiritual songs on a fund raising tour in the name of the university, touring the US and Europe, gaining endorsement from European royalty and helping kick start Nashville’s reputation as a centre for the musical arts. Over the last hundred years Music City has remained an entertainment centre and a rich source of talented musicians and songwriters, recording studios, music publishing houses and shrewd businessmen wanting to get a piece of the action.
Country music and R&B were both heading toward their peak as a national phenomenon around the late 1950s and 1960s, and so should have been in direct competition with each other within Nashville itself. As things turned out, country overshadowed soul music in terms of local commercial success. Demographics and racial suppression were likely contributing factors; the Black community was still in the shackles of Jim Crow laws. African-American business and entertainment communities confined themselves to a couple of specific (though vibrant) areas within the city. Music Row was the white man’s domain. RCA and other major labels saw the opportunity to exploit country music and overnight established offices, staff writers and recording studios in Nashville. Other than a couple of notable exceptions such as Excello and Sound Stage 7, independent soul music label operations were often dwarfed by the activities of the majors.
That said, talent within the Black community was no less abundant, whether for live performances, recorded song, musicianship or industry-related entrepreneurship. Nashville was a central location: an ideal stopping point for R&B and soul artists from the rural areas of the south and the major cities of the north as they worked the chitlin’ circuit. Many of these performers were more than mere passing trade – national names such James Brown, Etta James, Ray Charles, Sam Cooke, major gospel groups and blues guitarists frequently graced the show and dance venues.
The thriving, if segregated, African-American community in Nashville also provided its own home-grown talent. The Bijou Theater along Fourth Avenue North was opened in 1916 by its white owners to showcase blues, jazz and entertainment by black performers. Four decades later R&B took hold along Fourth Avenue North, and on Jefferson Street in the bars, diners and nightclubs where local musicians and visiting artists would earn their keep. These individuals and combos performed at club venues, worked on recording sessions for other artists as well as bands in their own right, and frequently appeared on R&B related music and dance TV shows. As well as local artists, Nashville labels featuring R&B would include artists from other areas of Tennessee, Louisiana, Florida and later the cities of the north. Even blue eyed soul was represented via the activities of singers, songwriters and producers who ventured more than occasionally from their country music roots.
Both radio and TV were primary driving forces for the evolution of and access to soul music in Nashville. WSOK, launched on 14th December 1951, became the first full time radio station to feature an all-Black staff roster who catered for local African-American residents. The station was a short range daytime affair, specifically targeting the Berry Hill area. Morgan ‘Happy Jack’ Babb was the WSOK’s DJ responsible for airing early R&B in among the local news bulletins, commercials and emergency aid calls. Other DJs included Ted Jarrett, who presented the WSOK Talent Show on Saturday mornings, broadcast live from the Bijou Theater, where performers were selected from local auditions to sing in front of a house band. The call-letters changed to WVOL when the station was sold on, but it continued on course with its original service focus.
WLAC (‘W-Life and Casualty’) was without a doubt one of the most influential radio stations in the US to broadcast and popularise R&B. It has a long history, stretching back to 1926 when the studio was based in the office building of Life and Casualty Insurance Company of Tennessee, in downtown Nashville. WLAC’s initial focus on community news expanded to other activities when WSM, a primary competitor, was gaining popularity through broadcasting country music. By the 1940s WLAC had a 50,000 wattage broadcasting capability, enabling twenty-eight states to receive a signal; even reaching parts of Canada and the tip of Southern Florida.
By the 1950s, the intention of WLAC was to serve the relatively untapped market across the major cities of the US and the deep south. Gene Nobles was the first WLAC DJ to cater musically for this market, by programming blues and jazz recordings. The purpose of this was to target a Black audience and attract companies to advertise products such as hair products and even animal stock to this particular community.
As “race music” became re-labelled R&B, WLAC DJs John Richbourg and Bill Allen would run their respective night-time shows, when the broadcasting signal was strongest. Fast talking ‘hip’ voice-overs were employed to promote the advertisers’ products and to introduce the records. The station played a major part in giving white teenagers, particularly in the south, access to R&B. WLAC was to become a key element in the development of the beach music scene in the Carolinas and Virginia. Guitarist Ken Adkins, from North Carolina’s The Tropics who gave the beach music and northern soul scene “Hey You Little Girl”, remembers:
“This is how I got my music education. A great signal, and music accessible nowhere else. From the age of ten until college, WLAC came on at 10pm and stayed on until 3pm. I had a big Zenith floor model radio with a twelve inch speaker in my room, away from other family members. I stayed up and listened …and listened …and listened….”
John Richbourg and Bill Allen were responsible not only for promoting local Nashville R&B talent, but also recording acts from elsewhere in the southern states, as well as Chicago and Detroit. Numerous globally recognised soul artists owe at least part of their initial success to the exposure obtained via the immense broadcasting capabilities of WLAC. (END OF PART ONE)
Copyright E. Mark Windle 2022, 2017. Modified chapter excerpt from the book “House of Broken Hearts: The Soul of 1960s Nashville”. E. Mark Windle is a freelance writer and biographer, working independently, as a senior writer with Story Terrace (London, UK), and as a writer for Sheridan Hill / Real Life Stories LLC (North Carolina, USA). Contact: via this site or emarkwindle@hotmail.com.
So, which floats your boat? I’ve been asked a few times now what the rationale was for selecting the particular artists and recordings in House of Broken Hearts: The Soul of 1960s Nashville. The intention of the book was not to be a panacea of Nashville soul music history; more a deep dig into the stories of artists and recordings from my world (basically an underground soul scene on the ‘wrong’ side of the Atlantic). Even at that though, a safe guess is that fans of Charlie Romans’ “Twenty-four Hour Service” are a different breed – and likely a generation apart – from record collectors hunting a copy of the Paramount Four’s “You Don’t Know”. Of course, there are sub-genres within sub-genres of soul music. Nashville record labels give us true diversity; whether pop-soul blue eyed from Hickory, the earthy swamp blues and early R&B of Excello, or even the Motown and big production sound that Ted Jarrett and Bob Holmes sometimes attempted to emulate with their acts.
It’s all about perspective. As an actual or potential purchaser of this book perhaps the reason you are drawn to it is, like me, you have an innate sense of curiosity and desire to make a tangible connection to these artists who are “stuff of legend” (as it says in the blurb) – whichever part of the soul scene you relate to. I wanted to convey the extent of Nashville’s output in influencing our underground scene across the decades and through the scene’s evolution, beyond just the part I associate with. But more broadly, I wanted to capture how the city contributed to the national, even global, popularisation of R&B. In retrospect, I probably should have written House of Broken Hearts before the other projects I undertook which focussed on the Carolinas and Virginia. The power of Nashville’s WLAC radio station with its 50,000 watt broadcasting capability was undeniable in spreading the good word of soul music in the 1960s to every corner of the US. I first learned of the influence WLAC had on young white teenagers from the eastern seaboard when researching beach music origins and soul influenced garage bands. Radio DJ John Richbourg and his pals provided not only easy access R&B for the first time, but also inspired many to start their own bands in high school or college.
I say that one purpose of the book was to make the artists ‘real’, but in truth, the connection between Nashville and fans of our insular northern soul scene was there all the time. Maybe it was just a lack of formal realisation and acknowledgement. Since HOBH was published, a number of readers commented how they remembered buying Monument releases of Sound Stage 7 45s on the European continent in the late 60s, and UK soul fans who bought from Ernie Young and Randy Woods’ Nashville based mail order set-ups as teenagers. The professional collaboration between Yorkshire’s Garry Cape and John Richbourg’s label interests would also satisfy the continued demand for Nashville soul from within the British northern soul scene, Holland, Japan and elsewhere well into the 1970s.
I also tried to convey the convergence of talent from two distinct musical genres. On the one hand, the rich cultural heritage from the black community which originated from the early Fisk University days; and also that of Nashville’s talented white country musicians, song writers and producers. Part open mindedness to experiment with the soul phenomenon, part industry looking for the next opportunity. There are many examples of collaboration. Much of the Sound Stage 7 catalogue was arranged and produced by the cream of Memphis and Nashville based musicians. Music Row’s Pete Drake, later associated more with Bob Dylan and Tammy Wynnette, decided a few years earlier to take a risk with some white boys from Georgia (OK, so fame eluded Athens Rogues but their efforts would be embraced decades later by the northern soul scene). Transferable skills left us with some masterpieces on both ends of the soul spectrum, between the gritty side of R&B and the sophisticated, well-orchestrated beat balladry of Dan Folger’s “Way of the Crowd”.
At the end of the day though, House of Broken Hearts is a celebration of Nashville’s black music history. And there’s still plenty left to be explored and documented. The soul story is be no means finished (a book could be written on the Richbourg / SS7 catalogue alone). But there’s a wider yarn to be spun. Whether referencing spirituals, jazz, gospel or blues, the black community was thriving musically way before the arrival of soul music, and to an extent continues to do so today. Maybe that’s a job for an obsessive fan of those specific genres; one which I and I’m sure others will be eagerly anticipating.
Copyright 2021, 2017. “House of Broken Hearts: The Soul of 1960s Nashville” is available to order exclusively from A Nickel And A Nail. E. Mark Windle is a freelance writer and biographer, working independently, as a senior writer with Story Terrace (London, UK), and as a writer for Sheridan Hill / Real Life Stories LLC (North Carolina, USA). Contact: via this site or emarkwindle@hotmail.com.
I wear several hats as a freelance writer. Over the years I’ve written music history books and other non-fiction, blogs and commentaries, and contributed to medical and nutrition science texts. There’s a chance if you are immersed in one of these niches that you may have even read some of my stuff. Basically there is a body of work in the public domain which is accessible and identifiable as mine.
Outside of these independent projects I’m also contracted as a ghostwriter with UK and North American biography publishing services. The briefs for these book commissions are equally as diverse. Sometimes the end product is for the client’s private consumption only; other times for publication and sale on online platforms or in brick-and-mortar bookstores. In all these cases, I’m destined never to be connected with these works. At least publicly.
Writers are often motivated by recognition, especially early in their careers. Try finding an individual who denies the thrill and sense of achievement in seeing their name in print for the first time, particularly if the work comes with praise or positive reviews. Recognition and community acceptance (or as Maslow would have it, love and belongingness) are primal needs. There is no shame in that, unless that sense of achievement crosses the boundary from modest self-pride to cheap vanity.
Maybe that’s the reason why some in the industry struggle to comprehend why anyone would actually choose to ghostwrite. Why pour time, effort and skills into a lengthy book project without the opportunity to assert your moral right to be identified with it? Of course, if we are referring to ghostwriting for A-list celebrities, a healthy advance payment and jaw-dropping royalty deal from a major publishing house may help ease the pain. Mind you, that kind of job doesn’t land that often. At least not on my in-tray.
Admittedly, there is a unique and challenging aspect of ghostwriting. The obvious curse is that self-promotion for the purposes of attracting future clients can be tricky. Non-disclosure agreements and ghostwriting contracts mean prospective clients cannot be offered portfolios easily and the opportunity to boast of affiliations with high profile individuals via your website or social media platforms is forfeited. If you are lucky, there are some workarounds. An exclusion clause reserving the right of name-association on a limited and discrete basis might be an option, where prospective clients are permitted to approach former ones as a reference. At the end of the day though, you have been chosen for not only for your skills but also for discretion. Breach the anonymity agreement, and you run the risk of unwelcome contractual or legal consequences. And of course, bang goes the community reputation.
In defending the art of ghostwriting biographies, l should firstly mention that I do this job for a living. It puts food on the table. Through my activities with third party biographical services, they supply the projects. Fortunately, I can opt to take on writing gigs dependent on personal scheduling, and where I and the editor feel I might be a good ‘fit’.
I reckon ten years in the biography game has matured my outlook. I’m genuinely intrigued by how upbringing and life events motivate individuals and guide their choices in life. These things shape and make us who we are. I also write biographies because I inherently love the research-interview-write process, not because it is a route to public recognition or (solely) a money making exercise.
The ghostwriter’s name may not be in bright lights, but a good one will be recognised, both within the writing industry and among clients. Ironically, that’s partly because anonymity is a key to success. Trustworthiness is of paramount importance in the relationship between the writer and the subject. That is true of any client collaboration, but particularly where they have standing or ‘visibility’ in society: perhaps they have celebrity status, are a public figure, a local businessperson, a hero, or even a villain. The client may want to share warts and all; lay his or her cards on the table. They will confide in the writer, offering nuggets of their life story that may never have previously been shared with anyone, including partners, family, or friends, until the writer’s inquiry led them there.
The biographer is in a position of privilege. Not everything on the audio transcripts is intended to appear in print. The writer negotiates with the storyteller what does and doesn’t add value to the story, what themes should drive the narrative for the article or book, and indeed what’s best omitted for legal or awkward personal reasons, while always keeping one eye on the brief. Meeting the client’s expectation that certain information will be held in confidence, or processed appropriately, goes a long way to building the writer’s reputation. Trustworthiness is not only an obligatory part of the non-disclosure agreement. It’s also an investment which secures future work by word-of-mouth recommendation.
A ghostwriter is in a unique position of being the vehicle, or voice, for the interviewee. Some clients’ lives are stuffed full of intriguing, colourful, dramatic, tragic or revealing life events, but have difficulty expressing these through a flowing verbal narrative in a series of interview sessions. Others are more eloquent. But all have a worthy tale to tell, and none less important than the other. In giving out advice (albeit to fiction writers), Raymond Chandler once said: “The challenge is to write about real things magically.” In our genre, the subject is the storyteller, but the biographer is the alchemist. The graft comes first: extracting life events and personal recollections in an accurate, meaningful and reflective way, conducting robust peripheral research, fact-checking and cross-examination. The magic comes when the potion is mixed to provide a unique tale which draws in the reader, has accuracy and relevance, educates, life-affirms, offers life-lessons, delivers optimism, demands empathy, or a combination of these things. The writer’s ultimate responsibility is to present a life story which has a purpose. Regardless of whose name is stamped on it.
Copyright 2021. E. Mark Windle is a freelance writer and biographer, working independently, as a senior writer with Story Terrace (London, UK), and as a writer for Sheridan Hill / Real Life Stories LLC (North Carolina, USA). Contact: via this site or emarkwindle@hotmail.com
As important life events took over such as careers, raising families, and in many cases later caring for grandchildren, the musical activities of their youth were becoming distant memories for some former Tempests members. A new generation of musicians were stepping in, taking black music into another era. Yet even here, an appreciation for old school remained, demonstrated by points of reference in Hip Hop and other genres, sampling, and updated-covers of classic soul music using new technologies.
Across the Atlantic, the love of R&B from an earlier era remained. It would be safe to comment that, at one point, mainstream America was oblivious to the enduring popularity of old blues and soul in other parts of the globe. The popcorn scene featured an appreciation of a mix of lesser known jazz, blues and soul records. Old R&B and swamp blues singers form the US were being plucked from obscurity and transported to the live blues scene of Scandinavia and Holland. A loyal market for deep soul and southern soul music could also be found in Holland and Japan. For The Tempests, little did they know the music they made would gain a new lease of life through re-discovery by a vibrant underground youth subculture in the UK.
Across the Atlantic, the Would You Believe LP remained virtually unnoticed until early 1983 when certain tracks from it were championed by UK collectors and DJs on the rare soul scene. Traditionally, LPs gain less attention from collectors as a vinyl format compared to 45rpm records. Would You Believe broke the mould in many ways, especially as two of the tracks, Someday and I Don’t Want To Lose Her, were not released on 45rpm format. The LP is still feverishly hunted for and fetches high prices to this day. No original pressing run numbers or sales figures are available, although there is general consensus and certain amount of logic that, being released on a major label, the progressively escalating three figure price tag which the LP commands reflects the consistent demand driven by collectors, rather than rarity as such.
The rhythmic, moody delivery of Someday sets the track out from other tracks on the LP, in terms of stylistic approach. Its pace suited the early 1980s northern soul scene perfectly when the previously often blinkered preference for up-tempo ‘100mph soul’ gave way for acceptance by many for beat ballads and mid-tempo dancers. Someday was first played to the UK dance floor at the Stafford Top of the World all-nighters in 1985.
The story of how the LP was brought to the attention of UK soul fans begins with Crewe record collector Martin Meyler:
“I was a regular at the 100 Club around the same time as the demise of the Wigan Casino all-nighters, and had become quite friendly with a bunch of lads I travelled with to soul music events. DJ Keb Darge was among them. I reckon I have a pretty good ear for music but didn’t have the money for the big 45s at the time. Nobody was really interested in LPs then – they were too bulky to carry around venues for one thing. However for me, they were affordable, and I was acutely aware that there might be other great recordings hidden away on an LP that otherwise wouldn’t see the light of day. I knew some of the collectors from Stoke who travelled over to the States for vinyl, and asked them to bring back LPs for me. Some good, some hippie crap. Anyway, I ended up with The Tempests LP, and was astounded by the content and the lead singer’s vocal presence. A few phone calls were made to check things out regarding how well known it was on this side of the Atlantic. Whilst the Smash 45s may have been known among a few collectors, they had never really been played out much at all to my knowledge, and nobody seemed to know the LP, or the Someday track. Maybe it was bypassed as the tempo was just not right for the Casino at the time. All I knew was I was onto a good thing and that Someday really deserved to be played out to a wider audience. As I wasn’t a DJ, I gave the LP to Keb Darge with the intention of giving it some exposure on the northern soul scene.”
Initially, Martin had thought of King Lear and the Shakespeares as a cover-up title, though that didn’t last long. In the case of Someday, Bobby Paris was used as the artist cover-up name, Paris being a blue-eyed soul singer known for a few northern soul classics including the dramatic beat ballad I Walked Away.
Martin Meyler. Photo courtesy of Liz Schmitz.
Legendary DJs Keb Darge and Guy Hennigan are well known for their friendly rivalry on and off the decks. The pair are among the key individuals associated with the phoenix-like rise of the northern soul scene when it was at an ebb, around the time Wigan Casino which was previously the biggest regular soul event in Europe, eventually closed its doors. This period was characterised by the acceptance of more diverse tempos and sub-genres; certainly inclusive of what the scene was previously known for, but also embracing more diverse styles such as latin-soul, contemporary releases and raw early 1960s R&B. Guy recounts how Someday was presented to the wider northern soul scene:
“Martin gave it to Keb to cut an acetate of Someday from it. Keb turned up at my flat in Derby on the Friday night before Stafford all-nighter with the cut. As normal, over the next twenty-four hours we did some swaps and sales. Part of the deal involved me getting another cut of The Tempests. I suggested to Keb to cover up the recording up as Bobby Paris, and to play it that night at the Top of the World. However.…I was on before him that night. We used to switch around on DJ spot timings. Not only did I play Keb’s copy of the disc…I played it twice. It went massive that night, just off those couple of plays. Even though Keb played it later in his spot, I got the credit for breaking it. It was a very competitive period between DJs then, in particular between Keb and I. But I can justify my sharp trick of stealing Dargie’s thunder on that one, with the simple fact it sounded so much better after I’d introduced it! Ha…you know what, he has never really forgiven me to this day!”
Keb Darge and Guy Hennigan. Photo courtesy of Karl White.Courtesy of Karl White and soulunderground.co.uk
I Don’t Want To Lose Her was also later played on the northern soul scene, covered up as Cecil Washington. The LP remains a popular and in-demand item, fetching ever-increasing prices at auction and on rare soul sales forums. Since its original discovery, white demo copies have also appeared, stereo and mono formats, and a European release.The Dutch manufactured Phillips LP carried the same cover but with a title change to Well-Tempered Soul, and appears to be intended for Dutch, German and possibly a wider European market. The existence of a transatlantic release was unknown to most of the band members. UK based Poker Records would also reissue the LP as a CD format in 2007, tagging on their Smash single releases to the album tracks for completists.
Dutch-manufactured Philips format of the LP, with title change. Courtesy of Jon Downs.Courtesy of Jon Downs.
In certain rare soul record collecting circles, the existence of a 45-rpm format of Someday is virtually mythological. As the track was never issued as a Smash single, it was hardly surprising the latter-day discovery of an original Mercury acetate by DJ / collector and record dealer Alan Kitchener would create considerable interest within the northern soul community:
“Being an avid follower of the newly discovered 1960s revolution which re-kindled my passion for the soul scene in the early eighties,” says Alan. “The Tempests song Someday summed up the direction of the scene at that time: on hearing Guy and then Keb playing it, and Guy coming clean on the whole story some years later. Guy was correct in that he could really introduce a new record like no one else on the decks.”
Alan Kitchener, DJ, record dealer and label owner. Photo by permission.
“Initially I thought Someday was a strong, pounding tune that was perfect for the dance floor but after a couple of listens you realise it is so much more than that. When the secret was out regarding the true artist and record, I managed to get a copy from a record fair in the USA while on a record hunting trip. I still have the same LP to this day. I did always think to myself ‘If only this came out as a single’ or ‘there must be an acetate somewhere’. Carrying an album around to DJ with was too much of a ball-ache and cutting it to a dub by then seemed a little dirty, so I dreamed on.”
From the collection of Alan Kitchener. Photo by permission.
“Around 2007 or 2008, I bought a few acetates off an individual on eBay. He had purchased an estate from an undisclosed record label owner and producer. I had bought the first of what turned out to be two copies of Dee Dee Warwick’s Worth Every Tear I Cry (DJ Mark ‘Butch’ Dobson grabbing the other one later) on a lovely Mercury 7-inch acetate. A real thing of beauty. I had asked him about any other interesting pieces he may have been listing. A few weeks later after my Dee Dee Warwick acetate had arrived it wasn’t as good condition as he had originally described. After I politely pointed this out, he agreed and said he owed me a favour on anything else I bought. Low and behold a couple of weeks later a lovely Mercury acetate entitled Someday, and on the B side, I Cried For You (also from the LP) appeared in his eBay listings. No artist was credited on the labels but it was pretty obvious who it was on listening. After a quick email conversation it was confirmed. By then the Soul Source online discussion forum curtain twitching had already begun, speculating how much it would go for. I thought it better to seize the chance, so I emailed him reminding him of the favour he owed. He agreed to do a deal on the acetate and remove the eBay listing. It was sold to me for a very fair price and a couple of weeks later it was in my hands. The acetate version has a slightly different intro, and to my ears a much cleaner production. So one happy collector here. I’m not surprised about the longevity of this recording. It had all the qualities of a northern soul classic and has become just that. It’s still filling dance floors to this day, and deservedly so; at the same time a great record in its own right for collectors. Someday is good as any record played on the soul scene in its long history.”
After The Tempests split and members went their separate ways, Van Coble was determined to continue in the industry. With an interest in sound engineering and electronics he toyed with the idea of setting up a recording studio. Before long, Van brought two other business partners into the fold: long time friend Nat Speir, and singer Bob Meyer, who had teamed previously for Behold and You Got To Tell Me, released on Lawn, a subsidiary of Philadelphia’s Swan Records.
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Van signed the lease on a building on East 4th Street in downtown Charlotte in 1970:
“It was originally a booking agency office before I got it. A two-story brick building, with an office downstairs and the studio above it. I designed and finished the studio myself. The control room was around four hundred square feet and the studio three times the size. Nat, Bob and I put a lot of thought into naming it. After a meeting of adequate beer consumption, we came up with the name of….. THE STUDIO! We had a six-channel mixer, custom designed and built for us by Don Strawn (the chief sound engineer at Arthur Smith’s Studio), a four track 1/2″ Ampex recorder and a two track Revox recorder. Most of the recording done was of songs written by us, plus clients who paid our demo fees at $30.00 per hour. Of course, that was 1970 prices. We recorded demos for The Delacardos and Lil Al and the Maxidynes among others. As far as recordings which made it to vinyl are concerned, Nat and I produced Do What You Want To Do by 100% Pure Poison, which saw release on, guess… Poison Records. These guys were essentially The Delacardo band members: Ronnie Grier on bass, Luther Maxwell on tenor sax, Chip Butler on trombone, Mat Ferguson on guitar and flugelhorn, and Chubby Jackson on drums. They had previously also been part of Arthur Conley’s band and were a different group to the one by the same name who did You Keep Coming Back for EMI. We pressed five hundred copies of the Poison 45. Lee Webber’s Your Love So Good and Big House On The Farm was also recorded there and placed on Excello records by Nelson Lemmond and me. Nelson put out Move to The Country by Vann (yours truly) on Mother Cleo Records. Does Your Mother Know was rehearsed and recorded at Arthur Smith’s Studio and Nelson placed this with the 440 Plus label, a subsidiary of Monument Records.”
“While Bob Meyer was recording at American Sound in Memphis under the supervision of producers Mike Cauley and Chips Moman, we got to work in our studio in Charlotte” remembers Nat. “Van was writing some great original material, and we recorded with the very talented Bobby Donaldson on guitar, and Riviera drummer Bobby Speir. However, without the money to upgrade, things just moved slower and slower. Sadly, the studio on East 4th Street didn’t survive”.
“The end of The Studio finally came when I was transferred to Winter Park, Florida by the company I worked for,” continues Van. “Nelson’s father allowed us to move the equipment out to his old farmhouse – that’s where Lee Webber’s Big House On The Farm came from. Bob sold the studio equipment for me around ’73 or ’74. Nelson, Bob and Nat were such good friends to me I’ll never forget this experience in that part of life. Those were good times.”
Van returned to education, obtaining a degree in electronics and worked for the largest electronics supply company and sound contractor in the south east. As a loyal employee for over forty years Van rose from service technician to senior sales manager of the sound and communications division. The profession allowed him to stay active in music and recording, playing gigs on weekends. Over subsequent years, Van continued to work with Nelson Lemmond and Nat Speir on various projects. In the late 1980’s Van built Hideaway Productions recording studio in Midland, NC and created JoVan label and production outfit. Hazel Martin, who had remained a close friend throughout, would eventually return to the studio and collaborate with Van on a CD project.
After The Holidays group had split, Nelson Lemmond finished college and moved to Cary, North Carolina. For a couple of years he worked as a claims adjuster for an insurance company, covering the eastern part of the state. The work was enjoyable, but he was unhappy with the internal company politics enough to move on. After a number of fruitful sales jobs in screen printing, Lemmond and Associates was created in 1974, selling point-of-purchase advertising. By 1977 the company was doing a significant amount of work for the major tobacco company R.J. Reynolds, manufacturer of Camel cigarettes:
“They wanted some large signs for advertising purposes across the state. They brought in seventeen companies – we ended up getting the order, thinking it may be maybe 2,000-3,000 signs. Well in the end we stopped after 20,000. We did really well out of that deal. Put us on the map big time. For a long time we were the largest company in the U.S. doing this kind of thing.”
In a way the creation and running of the company became a substitute for music, although Nelson still found time for pursuing related activities. During that transitional time Coble and Lemmond produced artists Lee Webber and The Sandlewood Candle.
“Nat Speir and I wrote some songs for the country market” says Nelson. “We were dealing with one particular label in the late 1970s. We called over there and were told the husband and wife were killed. I called a friend on a newspaper in Nashville. He told me they had gotten in a wife swapping group. Their son had found out and shot them both.”
Nat Speir also remembers this period: “I was doing disco and beach music sessions for local artists and writing songs for a few independent Nashville labels at the time. Nelson and I made several trips to Nashville and Muscle Shoals to visit producers and labels. We had some success. Nelson is a fine drummer and a writer. He wrote lyrics with me, and his business skills picked up through his advertising company allowed him to handle our promotion. After completing a round of mailings, we went to Nashville in his Mercedes diesel to pitch our songs. During this time, many Nashville and New York artists recorded our compositions, mainly a mix of pop and country: Only the Name’s Been Changed, What’s Mine is Yours, and You Don’t Love Here Anymore. I recall once listening on the phone as a Nashville record producer played one of our songs as it was being recorded. He was producing Loretta Lynn’s younger sister, Peggy Sue, doing Only the Name’s Been Changed. I could immediately recognize Loretta Lynn on back-up vocals.”
The beach music revival lead to a regional mini industry in the Carolinas. The success of Mike Branch and General Johnson’s Surfside label encouraged others to follow, including “Dr” Chris Beachley. Beachley had long served the Charlotte community with his shop Wax Museum specialising in 1950s and 1960s R&B. He launched the magazine It Will Stand in 1978 in response to customers asking him for details of the next Shag dance contests and shows. Within a couple of years he was joined by ‘Fessa John Hook to help with editing and publishing duties. Hook was another beach music fan and DJ (and, in more recent times, an author on the subject). The fanzine provided readers with information and histories on old and new acts, details of new releases and events, and beach music charts. The Tempests even featured in one issue, the article later being reprinted in Greg Haynes’ mammoth biographical collection Heeey Baby Days of Beach Music. On the back of the success of the It Will Stand magazine and increasing interest in Carolina beach music, Beachley also tried to launch a record label of the same name to feature current beach music acts.
As it turned out a sole act was represented on the It Will Stand label; The Fabulous Plaids, including Ken Carpenter and some other members of the original Plaids.
‘Ninety-day Tempest’ Ellison Honeycutt joined the new Plaids line up:
“I’ve known Nelson Lemmond since the very early 1960s when I first saw him playing with The Plaids. He had the ability to really push the band on Bobby Bland material like Turn On Your Love Light, and from those years, I can’t recall anyone else that could play the single stroke shuffle as quickly, and as driving as he could. Ken Carpenter probably raised about fifty teenagers over the years in The Plaids and taught them how to act like grown men. Nelson was no exception. I think he was fifteen when he first started playing with them. I’ve always thought the new band releases on the It Will Stand label was Nelson’s way of thanking Ken Carpenter for raising him right, and to make a seriously good contribution to promoting the talent from in and around Charlotte. I joined Ken and The Plaids in 1977 when I retired from the full-time road gig I had with The Fairlanes from Nashville. Six wonderful years of most weeks in the year, six nights a week, working in a BAR. Retired when I was thirty. Tired, sore, and ready to settle down a bit. Anyway, Ken called me one day. We had known each other since the early ‘60s. I just folded into the band, and we continued to promote soul music anywhere and everywhere we could. We had a lead vocalist in Michael Wayne Deese who had helped share Hazel’s singing duties with The Tempests those years before. He had a pretty unique voice. Sang like Wilson Pickett, Joe Cocker and Otis Redding all wrapped up in one voice. Needless to say, we played through the years, and continued to work everywhere we could find. Sometime in the early 1980s, beach music became a bit of a preferred genre again – it ebbs and flows – and our little band was suddenly big news. Hell, we’d played all that stuff when it was first popular, so it was sort of welded into our souls. And frankly, most of the younger musicians didn’t catch on then – too much synthesized-pop around at that time. The Plaids’ popularity continued to rise, and in comes Nelson with the notion that we should be on record, to showcase the vocal talent and musicianship that we had. We had never lost touch with Nelson anyway. I have always been happy that he found the time to follow some of his dreams as well, and as I said, I think in some way wanted to repay Ken to some degree for showing him how to be a generous, honest man. Nelson told me once that Ken Carpenter was the only man on this earth that he would let hold his wallet.”
Two sessions were arranged at Reflection Sound to record Hank Ballard’s Sexy Ways and It Won’t Be This Way Always for the first single, and the second, Do It backed with a version of the Four Tops’ Ask The Lonely.
Courtesy of Bob McNair
“Michael Deese sang his ass off on Ask The Lonely. The 45s were well received and made it into the Top Ten Beach Music charts. This gave us a tremendous boost that enabled us to gain a sponsor. That helped us to upgrade our appearance, equipment, and mode of transportation. We had the pleasure of appearing on the first ever Beach Music Awards Show, re-appeared the following year, and then again when it moved to Charlotte for a while. Probably the best thing that happened from the first recording was that we got a lot of attention. Nelson took that to heart and scheduled a rather large showcase of our band plus a few more local artists and musicians. We had a reunion of sorts that highlighted Hank Ballard, Robert John, and the Nat Spier Orchestra (actually The Plaids and Nat plus another sax player). Robert John took a liking to us, and we all decided that at the second Beach Music awards, he would attend and do a set with us at the VIP Party. It was awesome. It was said that the only reason he didn’t get a standing ovation after he sang Sad Eyes was that all the women were stuck to their seats. As Bobby Pedrick (his real name), John had recorded several shag hits in the ‘70’s, so there was mutual admiration. We almost went to NYC to work with him; however he had some management issues at the time. That took care of that. None of this would have happened though without Nelson. Ken and I continued to run that band up until around 2000. We still have a reunion every ten years or so and stock up on oxygen tanks. To this day, Ken Carpenter is my best friend. He just turned eighty years old but can still work his way around a guitar neck and plays when he feels like it.”
The Plaids performed for several music events in the southeast. Political rallies, Park Center shows, nightclubs, corporations, radio, TV, festivals, Springfest, Myrtle Beach Pavilion, and the Beach Music Awards through the early to mid-1980s. They also had later recordings which featured on local and regional radio, some of which remain on beach radio station play lists. Like most long running bands in the south, The Plaids underwent numerous personnel changes, but stayed firmly within the musical circle of Charlotte and the Carolinas for around forty years. Their last formal engagement was at the Taste of Charlotte Festival in 2002.
Copyright E. Mark Windle 2021. Modified excerpt from The Tempests: A Carolina Soul Story by E. Mark Windle, available via Blurb and A Nickel And A Nail.
Mike and Roger Branch formed Insight Talent, a booking and promotional agency in 1974. However, Roger was being tempted by an opportunity to take up a position as Polydor promotional representative for North Carolina. Weighing up the pros and cons, rather than take a risk on a new company with a potentially unpredictable outcome, he decided to go with Polydor. Mike took over control of Insight Talent in partnership with Don Strawn and Paul Scoggins. For several years the company would continue to harvest local singing acts; a process which more than partly contributed to the beach music revival of the late 1970s.
Joe Crayton Clinard Jr. was involved in sponsoring events and printing promotional T-shirts for the agency. Insight Talent Inc. were also responsible for the production of a series of Beach Blast open air rock festivals (and later, a showcase opportunity for beach music bands) held around Charlotte.
Courtesy of Joe Crayton Clinard, jr.
“I knew the family from when Mike and Roger’s mom helped me out with a little mail order for the Rock and Roll T-shirt biz I started. I also worked with Mike when he was our booking agent around the time when Cannonball’s You Keep Telling Me Yes was out. He was the biggest beach music promoter at the time and in the years that followed Beach Blast. I mean, large music outdoor festivals that started the concept in the area. They lasted for years in one form or other. After I got out of music I supported the promotion of Mike’s shows with my retail jeans store group called Cheap Joes.”
The momentum of the beach music revival was in no small way down to the partnership of Mike Branch, singer General Norman Johnson (b. 1941 d. 2010) and their desire to progress beach music beyond merely a retrospective, nostalgic oldies scene. Johnson’s first group The Showmen had minor national success in the early 1960s with It Will Stand on Minit, breaking the Billboard Hot 100 in 1961, and R&B Charts at #40. Their 39-21-46 (Shape) was also a popular east coast regional hit. The Showmen’s releases on Swan in Philadelphia are also well known to record collectors of soul music. Johnson departed from The Showmen in 1968 with a move to Detroit. The Holland-Dozier-Holland song-writing team had recently left Motown, having refused to follow the Gordy empire to the west coast. They immediately set out to find fresh talent for their newly formed Invictus label. With the newly formed group Chairmen of the Board at the helm, the label went from strength to strength. Give Me Just A Little More Time was a million seller by May 1970, reaching number 3 in the Billboard Hot 100. Other hits followed though eventually members of the original group went their own ways. Johnson stayed on with Invictus for a while as a producer and staff writer. Finally business relationships at the label soured and Johnson left in the mid-1970s to work with Arista and Greg Perry.
General Johnson met Mike Branch when he brought a reformed Chairmen Of The Board, now also featuring Danny Woods and Ken Knox, to North Carolina. Ken recollects these early years:
“Growing up in Detroit, music was in the air. I could walk down my street and hear The Temptations being played alongside Mitch Ryder and The Detroit Wheels, MC5 and gospel music. In 1974 Danny Woods walked into a club where my band was performing. He liked what I was doing and invited me to come audition for the touring band for Chairmen. I was a bit intimidated because there was General Johnson, Harrison Kennedy, arranger McKinley Jackson and Funkadelic all in the same room. To my surprise I made the cut. Within a couple of years and after a lot of touring we came south on General’s knowledge of the audiences in the Carolinas from his days with The Showmen. I believe Mike Branch reached out to us after seeing us perform in Charlotte and we ended up staying with Insight Talent for the next couple of decades. The company was housed in a little building at 2300 E. Independent Blvd. The Insight Talent Beach Blast festivals included acts such as Chairmen, Archie Bell and The Drells, Bill Pinkney’s Drifters, Cornelius Brothers and Sister Rose and local beach music bands. They also later promoted jazz concerts featuring Kenny G. Mike was a very hard worker and was hands on in promoting Chairmen Of The Board in the south-east. He was always last to leave at night from his office and made sure we had the best of everything. We used two studios; early recordings were made at Reflection Sound Studios but Arthur Smith was like our home away from home. Mike set all this up for us there partly because The Tempests had recorded there… and of course the legendary James Brown recorded Papa’s Got A Brand New Bag at Arthur Smith’s place.
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General Johnson and Mike Branch also struck up a partnership via Surfside Records in 1979. The label also operated from the Insight Talent building. Mike concentrated on the business whilst General Johnson and Ken Knox produced Chairmen of the Board and other artists on the label roster. Jerry Goodman, who since post Smash days had been a representative for Atlantic Records and Warner Brothers, was put on promotions. Given Johnson’s local knowledge and popularity, singing and writing talent, and industry skills picked up along the way, he was also the perfect business partner for Mike. Both were keen on the idea of a label to present new recording artists and original music, revitalizing what was being perceived by many as a ‘tired’ beach music market. Even an attempt by Motown to lure General Johnson to California was resisted and Surfside continued to sell well for the next couple of decades. Artists appearing on the label included General Johnson and the Chairmen, The Band Of Oz, Poor Souls, The Tams, Cornelius Brothers and Sister Rose – and even a release by The Tempests featuring a singer called Pat Carpenter. The label quickly found its niche, and Surfside along with other labels was doubtless a major catalyst for the live band beach music scene which still exists to this day in the Carolinas.
Copyright 2021 E. Mark Windle. Modified excerpt from The Tempests: A Carolina Soul Story available to order from A Nickel And A Nail and Blurb.com
The initial choice of rehearsal venue for The Holidays, the band formed immediately after The Tempests split, was down to bass player Gerry Dionne. As a vice president with American Motor Inns, the largest franchiser of Holiday Inns in the country at that time, Gerry’s father agreed to let them use banquet hall space to rehearse. Like Dave Butler, Gerry had come on the scene when The Tempests were on the cusp of the break up:
“Roger Branch listened to me playing conga with a friend of mine at a performance just prior to the group breaking up. The Tempests had a gig booked, backing up Eddie Floyd at Park Center. Roger wanted me to come to a rehearsal at his family’s home on Central Avenue, so I could get a feel for their brand of R&B, and frankly to see if I could keep up. When I arrived, the band was set-up, and may have already played a tune or two. I sat next to Nelson Lemmond who was voluble, obviously well educated, and seemed to be a corner stone. My bongos and conga were lost in the god-almighty din that the band cranked out in the Branch family basement. I wondered how it was we didn’t attract unwanted attention from the local gendarmes. The answer came when the senior Branch walked in and flashed his badge and service pistol. The Park Center gig came around soon enough. I played until my hands bled that night. This was my idea of fun. Roger paid me twenty-five dollars in cash out of his pocket; my first paying gig. But the next time I came to rehearsal, it was obvious there was something brewing. People were unhappy. Some of the members had thoughts of expanding the band’s repertoire. For Nelson, this was in a more pivotal deep South, down home direction. He wanted to cover artists like Muddy Waters and Bobby Bland.
The writing seemed to be on the wall for the Tempests. Mercury discontinued the Smash label in 1970, recognising a national shift in musical direction.
“Overnight, The Tempests had lost their drummer, bass player, horn player and front man to The Holidays” continues Gerry. “Van started me on a crash course in bass playing so he could switch to lead guitar. It meant having to become proficient on an instrument I had never touched before, in a matter of a few weeks. The guys were generous with me. The first few gigs with me on bass were musical train-wrecks. We played so loudly, however, no one seemed to notice, unless they happened to be members of a rival band. But the audience didn’t seem to notice – Van tried to scream out the bass notes as he played guitar, to mask what I was playing. At 120 decibels, it’s impossible to distinguish between C, D B and E! For about a week, the rest of the band thought I would have to be replaced. And then by the third or fourth gig, I finally got it. It came to me. However, at that point the Branch family had made Hazel Martin an offer he couldn’t refuse, and he went.”
The Holidays, featuring Hazel Martin. Photo courtesy of the Lemmond family.
With a few exceptions, The Holidays kept an R&B focus, and played primarily frat and high school venues, booked by the Char-Mac Ltd agency. David Butler’s young age was a double-edged sword. One Christmas concert at Butler’s high school was promoted via the school paper. He felt the gig might not have been booked had he not been in the band, as their market was primarily an older college student audience:
“I also recall a night club where we played in Richmond, Virginia on the same bill as Billy Joe Royal and The Royal Blue. Their bass player was the only musician I encountered on the road that was younger than me. He downed nearly an entire pitcher of beer after the show in one go. We had problems in some clubs because of my age (parochial liquor laws). Eventually, things started to go downhill. As The Holidays, we never made any recordings. I never did meet the Branch brothers either.”
“We were a pretty good band for a short while” says Gerry. “The Holidays didn’t last long as a performing entity though. It just didn’t seem to have much passion behind its existence. And we never did manage to find a viable vocal replacement for Hazel Martin.”
Shortly after The Holidays disbanded, Dave Butler was approached by the Spontanes, a Gastonia, NC based band who played across the south east. An LP release entitled The Spontanes Play Solid Soul appeared in 1966, on Hit Records, the same label as Gene Barbour and the Cavaliers I Need Love – both products of Ted Hall’s Hit Attractions. The Spontanes’ second 45, Where Did I Go Wrong appeared in 1968. The track was written by lead singer James Bates, in his mid-twenties and was an infectious mid 60s horn-led mid-tempo soulful number typical of the time.
The Spontanes LP “The Spontanes Play Solid Soul” (author collection)
“Yes, we often played Where Did I Go Wrong” says Butler. ”We also backed up a lot of singers like Barbara Wilson, Major Lance and Rufus Thomas. I recall one gig where we were on with General Johnson and the Chairmen of the Board. He was annoyed because we performed their hit Give Me Just A Little More Time, prior to their set. During the break between sets, the club owner took time to persuade Johnson to proceed with their performance. In hindsight I can see why he would be upset. I don’t think it was intentional, but we should have omitted that song from our set that night. It was 1970 and we began to evolve our song list from beach music hits to more contemporary music from groups like Chicago. I played with them until I graduated from high school.”
“I went off to get an education” says Butler. “I had grown up in Gastonia where The Spontanes were based. My parents lived less than a mile from Claude Bailey, where we practiced and where we kept our bus. It was all pretty heady stuff for a teenager. But unfortunately with The Spontanes it was another situation similar to The Tempests, in that the original band had broken up and several core members continued with some new blood. I gave up the axe when I went off to college. I got heavily into electronic music after graduation and set up a recording studio in my home in 1977. I’d hoped to produce new age solo instrumental albums but was never able to pull it off. I ran into James Bates about ten to fifteen years ago, playing in a club in Charlotte before I moved to Arizona. We just lost touch.”
