Soulsville U.S.A.: Stax and southern soul

Memphis’s Stax label shapes southern soul and, with Atlantic, carries it into wider circulation.

We have covered Motown’s role in mid-1960s Black pop; now turn to Soulsville, U.S.A.—Stax—and southern soul. To open, what happens at Atlantic Records. Atlantic is one of the most important labels in our rock history; it starts early, even before rock. It begins in R&B, then plays a major role in the first rock wave—especially 1960–1964. Acts like Ben E. King and the Drifters matter. So Atlantic matters. What happens in the 1960s: by the late 1960s–early 1970s Atlantic becomes a home for major rock acts—Led Zeppelin and others. But in the 1960s Atlantic is shifting from sweet soul toward southern soul. Recall sweet soul: Ben E. King, the Drifters—elegant, restrained R&B with strings, sometimes Latin rhythms. Southern soul is hotter, freer, heavily gospel-influenced, sounding more natural and unadorned—though records usually polish away much of the roughness. When Jerry Wexler packages Solomon Burke, the turn begins. Burke also works with Bert Berns—we have mentioned Berns often; Atlantic’s 1963 “If You Need Me,” No. 2 R&B, is Burke. Solomon also takes 1965’s “Got to Get You Off My Mind” to No. 1 R&B. Wexler, then a key Atlantic head, sees that besides cutting Atlantic artists, licensing regional hits can also succeed. We have covered national licensing of hits: Atlantic can re-package a song bought from a smaller label and turn a regional smash into a national one. So Wexler looks for records Atlantic can reissue in other forms as hits—and begins working with Memphis’s Stax. Stax is founded in 1960 by Jim Stewart and his sister Estelle Axton—ST from Stewart, AX from Axton. In Memphis, Tennessee, they sell distribution rights to Atlantic. They work closely with Jerry Wexler and with Atlantic’s legendary engineer Tom Dowd. Dowd is sent to Stax’s Memphis studio to improve and maintain the gear; he cares about Atlantic’s sound quality, and though they will use Stax’s rooms more often, he wants equipment up to his standard. When we say Stax we usually mean label and studio. But you will see the story is wider: other southern rooms and even New York work in a general southern-soul style. Whether records are truly cut in the South or only in name, people often use Stax as the shorthand—sometimes Volt, Stax’s subsidiary. Stax and Volt name a style, or more precisely the artists under those labels. What interests me is not only southern soul but Motown–Stax relations. The two labels are often cast as extremes—as in the preface. Motown is said to betray Black culture for white listeners; Stax is said to sound more authentic, closer to Black tradition and gospel, freer. Yet despite clear differences, their working methods are strikingly similar. Stax has committed writers and producers, if not in Gordy’s highly organized form. Isaac Hayes and David Porter write and produce Sam & Dave. Guitarist Steve Cropper works closely with Otis Redding. Some write, some perform. The biggest parallel is the house band. Motown has the Funk Brothers; Stax’s Memphis studio has Booker T. & the M.G.’s—four legends in Black pop history. Booker T. Jones on organ, Steve Cropper guitar, Duck Dunn bass, Al Jackson Jr. drums. They have their own instrumental hits—“Green Onions” the best known—and back many Stax acts, in an even looser, more collaborative atmosphere than Motown. At Stax they often write as well as play, building a tight creative room. Remember: at places like Atlantic the old rule is bring people in, show them the charts, write for the charts—like big-band days of the 1940s–50s. Talking Stax also means horns. Horns are not on every Stax release, but enough to define the sound. From the 1960s people talk horn sections with real influence. When the Beatles make “Got to Get You into My Life,” Paul McCartney thinks about dense horn rhythm. That is part of the Stax stamp; people often say “Stax horns.” Next: some Stax artists.