The Chris Moeller Archives

All Things In Time

We lost one of the great vocalists of all-time this week in Lou Rawls, who died at 72 years of age early Friday morning in Los Angeles after battling lung and brain cancer.

In a tribute to Tony Bennett at last month's Kennedy Center Honors, Quincy Jones said he learned long ago that if he didn't know who was singing within the first 20 seconds of listening to a song, he'd never hear about that person again. Like Bennett, Lou Rawls possessed one of those voices that you recognized immediately. The voice is being alternately remembered in obituaries as "smooth and silky" and "rough and tumble." It was inarguably warm and sophisticated. Over the years, it thrilled us with fresh interpretations of the Great Standards, including the definitive recording of "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas." It introduced original R&B classics like "Lady Love" and "You'll Never Find (Another Love Like Mine.)" Samples here. It was lent to the animated series "Garfield," "Hey Arnold," and "The Rugrats." We knew it immediately when it tried to comfort "Sera" from the front seat of a taxi cab in 1995's "Leaving Las Vegas." Sinatra called Rawls' four-octave baritone "the smoothest chops in the singing game."

A legend's passing is always bittersweet. The tragedy of departure is somewhat tempered by the renewed opportunity to examine the person's life and career. Imagine my surprise yesterday to discover that Mr. Rawls was born and raised on the South Side of Chicago, where he performed doo-wop on the corner of 38th and State with future stars like Sam Cooke, Johnny Taylor, and Pervis Staples of the Staples Singers. I've been telling people for 20 years that Rawls was from St. Louis. Such was the impact of his life that he was claimed by the Gateway City despite never having lived there. He appeared seven times for the St. Louis Variety Club at their annual telethon. He worked as a radio and TV pitchman for Anheuser Busch for 18 years, beginning in 1976, when he was hired to sing the jingle, "When you say Budweiser, you've said it all." (I still remember his performance of the national anthem at one of the World Series games in 1987.) He appeared on behalf of the brewery and the regional chapter of the United Negro College Fund a dozen times with his national telethon "Lou Rawls' Parade of Stars." By accounts of everyone associated, his laid-back demeanor and stage persona lent itself ideally to marathon broadcasts, and that series of television specials has raised more than $200 million for the UNCF since 1979. The most recent gala (now under the name "Evening of Stars,") a tribute to Stevie Wonder, is being broadcast locally tonight in St. Louis in honor of Rawls, and across the country throughout the weekend on BET and Chicago's national Superstation WGN-TV.

Rawls is one of just a few African-American performers to come to mind that never struggled to connect simultaneously to both black and white audiences. This was largely due to his wide-ranging style that covered everything from pop, blues, jazz, gospel, and a disco-infused, urban genre of the 1970s known as "Philadelphia soul." "There are no limits to music," he said, "So why should I limit myself?"

Fellow singer Della Reese said Friday that she visited Rawls during this past week, and that "he was in a wonderful place for the condition he was in. He was the man I always knew."
He's survived by his wife of two years, an infant son, and three grown children.

posted by CM @ 12:36 PM