Louisville, Kentucky.
Visited October 2011
There are times when I step back and consider this odd hobby
I have and think, ‘are you nuts?’ This
post comes from one of those times. I
didn’t think a visit to the final resting place of my favorite soul singer
would be very unnerving. I was
wrong.
Wilson Pickett was born March 18, 1941 in Prattville, Alabama. He was the fourth of eleven children. In his later years, Pickett described a
family home terrorized by an abusive mother. Barely into his teenage years, he moved to
Detroit to live with his father. At age
14 in Detroit, Pickett began to sing in a Gospel choir. Four years later, like many black singers of
his era, he moved from traditional Gospel singing to a more commercial rhythm
and blues style, which was the precursor of soul music. In 1961, he signed on with a relatively
successful R&B group, the Falconers.
Early performances |
It was a recording session at the legendary Stax Recording
Studio in Memphis that really launched Wilson Pickett’s career. Jamming with the studio band (the equally
legendary “MG”s including Duck Dunn and Steve Cropper); the singer and
musicians came up with the groove and structure of “In the Midnight Hour”. It became Pickett’s first No. 1 R&B
single and peaked at 21 on the pop charts.
Over time, the song has settled into the pantheon of all-time hits.
Wilson Pickett backed up by Jimi Hendrix |
Most of Wilson Pickett’s best-known hits come from his Stax
period. It was also at Stax that he acquired his nickname “Wicked Pickett”. While the record company most likely gave it
to him for marketing purposes, the name unfortunately tended to describe the
singer’s private life. Throughout his career,
Wilson Pickett battled alcohol and drug issues and was arrested at various
times for violence-related offenses. As
a performer, however, he became one of the iconic soul/R&B artists of his
era. While most of his success came in
the Sixties and early Seventies, Pickett create music and perform into the
early 2000s, with several minor hits even in his later years.
Pickett and Duane Allman |
While he has not attained the status of some of his
contemporaries who worked with Motown, Wilson Pickett’s signature vocal style,
dynamic live performances and ability to write many of his biggest hits have
given him a prominent place in pop music history. In 1999, he was inducted into the Rock and
Roll Hall of Fame. He continued to
perform through the 90’s, retiring due to health concerns in 2004. Wilson Pickett died of a heart attack in
Reston, Virginia on January 19, 2006. He
was laid to rest in a mausoleum at Evergreen Cemetery in Louisville, KY, where
he had family in the later part of his life.
Seventies Pickett |
Here are my five favorite Wilson Pickett songs
FIVE: Hey Jude (1968)’. It’s pretty gutsy to record an
iconic Beatles song but Pickett pulls of a nice R&B groove. And the song has great guitar work by Duane
Allman.
FOUR: Land of 1000 Dances (1966). This is just full tilt Sixties dance/party music. The clip here is a great G concert version from a 1971 show in Africa.
THREE: Mustang Sally (1966). Killer groove. This live version shows you how good R&B
can flat out rock.
TWO: Don't Let the Green Grass Fool You (1971). Pickett
recorded this at TSOP in Philly. It was
the first Wilson Pickett song I remember ever hearing. Caught a sixth grader’s attention and stayed
with him.
ONE: In the Midnight Hour (1965). Wicked Pickett’s signature
song. An all-time great. He did a duet of this song at his Rock &
Roll Hall of Fame induction with Bruce Springsteen. The version here is done with the Blues
Brothers Band in the 1980’s featuring Duck Dunn and Steve Cropper. Also check out this revved up take from a live seventies vintage show .
Wicked Pickett and the Boss at the 1999 Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Concert |
Mausoleum at Evergreen Cemetery. My experience wasn't quite so bucolic |
I open the glass door and step inside a large atrium like
area with stacks of wall crypts two stories high all around. The wind and rain are howling outside. I begin to walk to the back of the room. Every noise, every step, echoes off the
marble walls. Glass windows and doors
shudder against the wind. I find
Pickett’s vault and start to take a picture, but realize I don’t have any way
to verify I was there. I take off my
Phillies cap to put it near (as my blog protocol requires) but there’s no place
to lay it. A few feet away there is an
ornate podium. I go over to get it and
realize its solid bronze. So, of course,
I have to drag it across the room. The ear-burning
screech as I pull the podium across a marble floor reverberates around the room
like a ghoulish shriek. At this point, I
am verifiably freaking out. I take a
picture, maybe three (to get good light).
I grab my hat and literally run back through the mausoleum and out the
door. I jump in my car and, punching the
gas, careen out of the cemetery as fast as I can drive. Once I made it back to the main road, I
stopped and took a breath. I think my
first one since I started the mad dash from the mausoleum.
Was it worth it?
Maybe. Maybe not.