Make You Sweat

Quite frankly, I have never had much of an appreciation for live albums, or at least not enough to feel compelled to include them in any best-of rock and pop lists. My lack of enthusiasm for this type of album stems from various considerations and prejudices: they inevitably seem more geared for die-hard fans; they appear more as filler or fan-appeasement material during extended album production hiatuses; generally they seem to lack elements of cohesion as they include songs from all parts of an artist’s career; they are so-well planned or controlled that they rarely capture anything unique or historical – different or stunning interpretations of well-known songs, an extremely memorable or moving performance with a distinct crowd feel or reaction, etc.; and they can easily fall into cliché tricks such as documenting the crowd sing the chorus parts in unison of well known songs, particularly at the end of a set.

Off the top of my head, I could probably only name a handful of performances that, in my mind, do break from the norm and would warrant special canonical status. Johnny Cash, The Allman Brothers, and Nirvana immediately pop into my head. Well, after recently listening to Live at the Harlem Square Club, 1963 for the first time, I would quickly and easily add Sam Cooke’s name to this narrow list.

The recording has a lot of elements working in its favor, many of which help the album transcend mere fantastic live album status and join the list of legendary rock n roll moments and all-time great albums. First, the album was released at a time when the album format was still in its early stages, or far from the album as art concept that was developed in an extremely creative manner towards the end of the decade. So, releasing a concert recording as an album often represented a more than adequate or even better substitute for the standard studio album, which was often filled with singles and cover filler, especially in the R&B world. Indeed, a concert album in the case of a great and often-touring soul singer probably represented more accurately the talents of the artist at hand. This is clearly the case with Sam Cooke.

Another impressive element of Live at the Harlem Square Club, 1963 is how the venue and performance display a unique intimacy and energy, which lend itself to the extremely cohesive nature of the musical performance. Listen to how the Harlem Square Club bustles with audience movement and feedback, on the one hand, and how you can discern certain movements of Sam as he moves around stage, claps his hands, or speaks to the audience, on the other. You can almost feel the sweat dripping off of Sam as he cajoles the crowd into twisting or heeding his advice on love and forgiveness. Also, the recording gives a good sense of the proximity of the tightly playing band in relation to Sam. Much of this closeness is probably due to the effectiveness of the technical recording (placement of mics, sound quality, etc.), which captures so many sonic nuances of the performance. It’s hard not to feel like you have been transported to the venue and are standing just several feet from the stage.

With regards to audience participation, it’s interesting to note how they cheer and applaud, but never in a uniform and prolonged manner like many of us are accustomed to hearing at the end of a song in other standard concerts. Here, the enthusiasm of the crowd is measured more by the crackle of voices in response to Sam’s singing or talking – essentially, the “amens” of the choir or parishioners as they praise the words of Sam the preacher man – and the movement of bodies (probably in dance movement) around what I imagine to be club tables. These are different times with different reactions based on a different style of show, and the album so dutifully documents these moments and gestures.

The immediacy of the music is what gives the album its cohesive feel. Here you have Sam and his well rehearsed band moving from one song to another with extreme ease, with one song seemingly blending into another. Sam knows his audience, the type of venue, and, consequently, and the importance of keeping the rhythm going and the song introductions humorous, soulful, or enticingly passionate. Ultimately, the tightness of the music exudes an infectious quality, which has the listener quickly moving his/her body in unison with the beat and in response to the singing. When the album finally concludes, it feels like the ride has been too short.

In the end, Live at the Harlem Square Club, 1963 represents not only a snapshot of an artist at his peak in terms of performance, but an important historical document that captures the feel of a unique style of concert in a period seemingly far away from today. While I have listened to only a handful of live albums in my lifetime, I nevertheless feel rather confident in speculating that few live albums can match the importance and feel encompassed in Sam Cooke’s terrific performance. Taking it one step further, Live at the Harlem Square Club, 1963 is probably one of the most important R&B musical documents of both its era and of all time, which automatically gives the recording elite album status. click here to
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Live at the Harlem Square Club, 1963

Live at the Harlem Square Club, 1963, Sam Cooke, Rolling Stone Magazine's #443

exile staff consensus: Top 400 album





the breakdown:
3.5 cannons - eurowags
2.0 cannons - venerableseed
1.5 cannons - polchic

the essays:
NEW POST (scroll back up)
2/27 @ noon - Sam Cooke makes Wags sweat. Just try and listen to the album without perspiring. We dare you.
2/19 @ 9 a.m. - Sam Cooke, the sixties, and segregation.

the introduction:
Fourteen live albums make the Rolling Stone 500 list but Sam Cooke's Live at the Harlem Square Club, 1963 is the only one not to have been released within a year of its recording. Cooke's legendary January 12 Miami, Florida performance did not see the light of day until 1985!

The obvious question is why did it take so long to appear?

Cooke's Live at the Copa album was released shortly before his December 1964 murder but was the antithesis to Live at the Harlem Square Club, 1963. At the Copa was recorded in an upscale conservative establishment in front of a largely white audience. Neither Cooke nor his audience seem energetic, excited, or legendary and for 21 years At the Copa served as the only audio documentation of a man history widely honors as the greatest soul singer of all time. How could "the greatest" have so little soul? Those who had seen Cooke in person attested to his brilliance but the was no evidence. Enter Live at the Harlem Square, 1963.

Its been just over 45 years since Cooke's Harlem Square performance. Does the album hold up? Should it rank in the top 15 live rock albums of all time? Does it belong in the canon? Let's find out.

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1963

A live album must capture a point in time and make that point both specific and eternal. The album sounds and vision must be a perfect representation of that year but the crowd, its mood, and their excitement must be universal and immediately understandable. You must be transported in time and say "That was an amazing show. If that concert happened tomorrow in my hometown I would be there and pay whatever amount."

***

Sam Cooke invented soul sometime in the late 1950's or at least that's what his 2000 Box Set titled The Man Who Invented Soul suggests. Sure, Ray Charles, Jackie Wilson, James Brown and many other lesser known artists make their own creation claims but Cooke's Promethean status does ring more true than false. Unlike the others Cooke owns a seemingly endless string of terrific singles that charted on both the white and r&b charts. His third single, the 1957 "You Send Me", knocked Elvis' "Jailhouse Rock" from it seven-week-long number one perch. This event was no anomaly; Sam Cooke's perfect voice and beautiful songs were every bit the King's equal.

In 1960 signed with RCA garnering a $100,000 advance ($700,000 in 2008 terms). In the same year baseball's top earner, Ted Williams, made only $90,000. Sam Cooke was bigger than baseball.

He took that money and started his own record label in 1961; a pioneering move for any artist at the time. The crossover hits kept coming and in 1963 RCA recorded one of his concerts at the Miami, Florida's Harlem Square Club. Their inspiration was surely James Brown's 1963 Live at the Apollo Theatre recording which unexpectedly became a runaway commercial success. (Check out Cashbox Magazine's year-end list for 1963. How out of place is #25 Live at the Apollo?) Could Sam Cooke's Harlem Square Club performance repeat the JB phenomenon? We never were able to find out. Cooke's Harlem Square recordings were bagged and didn't see the light of day until 22 years later.

Harlem Square's 1985 release saw significant fanfare. Critics hailed Cooke's resurrected grittiness, tense sexuality, and hoarse frenzy. New York Times critic Jon Pareles named it the year's second best album wedging it between R.E.M.'s Fables of the Reconstruction and Husker Dü's Zen Arcade. Suddenly, it was argued, the public had heard the real Sam Cooke. Only, in 1985, the public was too busy watching Witness and seeing Harrison Ford fall in love with Kelly McGillis while Cooke's enchantingly saccharine "Wonderful World" played in the background. Which perfect side of Sam Cooke had really reappeared?

***

When I listen to Harlem Square what year does it sound like? 1963 or 1985 or is it transcendent? None of the above. Harlem Square sounds even older than 1963. It doesn't capture JFK, Dr. No, the Beatles, progressive politics and Camelot. Instead, it sounds like segregation and that was more Eisenhower, Little Rock, and the 50's, right? Wrong. My history is mistaken.

1963 was the high tide in the establishment South's pro-segregation battle. Newly elected Alabama governor George Wallace proclaimed "segregation now, segregation tomorrow, and segregation forever!" the same January week that Harlem Square was recorded and in June of the same year stood in the schoolhouse door of the University of Alabama in an attempt to prevent black enrollment. Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote his Letter From Birmingham Jail that April and gave his I Have A Dream Speech that August. Medgar Evers was murdered that June. In October Sam Cooke and his band were arrested for attempting to check into a whites-only Louisiana motel. He subsequently wrote his greatest song, "A Change is Gonna Come".

The hopeful, steadfast, strength of "A Change is Gonna Come", however, doesn't appear on Harlem Square. The album feels resigned to guarded emotions and grudgingly accepting of its segregated milieu especially when heard alongside its defiant, end-of-the-world-level orgasmic Live at the Apollo contemporary. Harlem Square itself isn't sad. Cooke doesn't sound sad, relaxed and tired yes but not sad. And while his and his band's soulfulness and passion is unquestionable the album makes me very sad. The crowd screams and responds to Cooke's calls but they sound muted; there's something missing in their eagerness. Despite Cooke's soothing voice and loving melodies the room feels tight, steamy, and full of tension.

The concert marks a distinct moment in time but it's a time I hope never happens again. The 1963 South is not a place I would ever want to relate to and Harlem Square is not a concert that I would have wanted to be at. Harlem Square may sound old and dated to these young ears but that is a wonderful thing. The older segregation seems the better this country has become. Let it sound 45 years old, let it sound 100 years old, let the past die, and let the future continue. click here to
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