The Parent Series came about when I realized that my Mom and Dad often influence my writing. They didn’t share a lot of personal stories so, like most introverted children, I simply observed them. This post was written in August 2007 as part of a project to promote local music through video. Big Ear Music has since evolved into Elastic Lab (but we still love music).
When people are curious about my accent I tell them I grew up in Florence, Alabama. That answer usually gets me a blank stare. “Have you heard of Muscle Shoals?” I ask.
By the time I was aware of my surroundings in the 1960s, the fledgling recording industry in the Quad Cities of northwest Alabama was already shaking things up. We listened to WLAY in Tuscumbia, a rare station that played a fabulous, unrestrained mix of country, R&B, Southern soul, and rock and roll. From The Shoals movie theater in Florence, we looked across the street to a room over the City Drug Store where Spar Music opened in 1959 with the proverbial egg cartons stapled to the walls, second-hand sofas, a 15-speed tape recorder and one piano. Rick Hall was a partner in Spar for a couple of years before heading out on his own, renting a tobacco warehouse in Muscle Shoals and taking the name Florence Alabama Music Enterprises (FAME). FAME’s best-known rhythm section—Roger Hawkins on drums, Jimmy Johnson on guitar, David Hood on bass and Barry Beckett on keyboards—developed a rich, unmistakable sound and artists came from all over the world to get it. Remember the lyrics to Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Sweet Home Alabama?” These guys are The Swampers. Eventually, they left FAME to start Muscle Shoals Sound in a former casket factory on Jackson Highway in Sheffield.
The list of artists who have recorded in this unassuming place is staggering. Percy Sledge, Aretha Franklin, Arthur Alexander, Clarence Carter, Wilson Pickett (check out his cover of The Beatles “Hey Jude” with Duane Allman, a FAME session player at the time), Etta James, The TAMS, Tommy Roe, Jimmy Hughes, Cher, The Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Paul Simon, Rod Stewart, Eric Clapton, Lynyrd Skynyrd, The Allman Brothers, Bobby Womack, Mac Davis, Mary MacGregor and on and on. They stayed at the Florence Holiday Inn or in trailer parks, and were seldom recognized on our streets. They came to work, not to play (it was a dry county in the early years). They came to make hits. A sign at the edge of town read, “Welcome to Muscle Shoals, Hit Recording Capital of the World.”
My dad was an architect, artist and closet musician. He designed the Alabama Music Hall of Fame late in his career. On opening day, I watched Percy Sledge fairly dance out of his white stretch limousine, belting out “When A Man Loves A Woman” like it was 1966. Dad worked with Jimmy Johnson on that project and became friends with Jimmy, David and others in the business who welcomed him into a world he loved. I hope they know how happy they made him.
I sat with David Hood a few weeks ago, sharing stories and watching the Tennessee River roll by outside the studio, and was reminded of some things. Music flows here. Any gathering warrants a bandstand. Live music plays every night. It’s empowering to be part of a community that believes.
I don’t have the music gene. What I have in its place is an unwavering belief that talented musicians anywhere, given lots of heart and half a chance, can be wildly successful. I’ve seen it happen.
FACING SOUTH 