Pete Cater: Article 2
Ray Charles

Ray Charles (1930–2004)

Singer and pianist Ray Charles, whose full name was Ray Charles Robinson, was born in Albany, Georgia, and grew up in extreme poverty in Greenville, Florida. At the age of five he contracted glaucoma which, left untreated, resulted in his total blindness a year or so later.

He began recording in 1949, leading trios often noticeably modelled on the singing and playing style of Nat ‘King’ Cole, but also featuring sophisticated urban blues. In 1954 he formed a band featuring a more outgoing rhythm and blues style and began to have notable hit records, starting in that year with “I Got a Woman”. The texture of his singing reflected strong gospel influences as well as a strong jazz sensibility.

The jazz side of his personality was especially expressed through appearances and recordings with his big band which featured not only his piano playing, singing and occasional alto saxophone solos but also such fine soloists as saxophonist Hank Crawford and trumpeter Blue Mitchell.

Never afraid to mix musical genres, Charles had a huge popular success with his Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music album (1962) in which his blues-grounded soul style reworks a seemingly unpromising idiom.

 Biography by Roger Cotterrell.

 

Rags to riches

In this 1971 interview, Ray Charles talks about the influences on his music, his admiration for Aretha Franklin, his involvements with film and television, and his regret that it is hard for him to do more jazz dates.

 

Buddy Childers: Interview 1

Ray Charles

Image Details

Interview date 1st January 1971
Interview source Jazz Professional
Image source credit
Image source URL
Reference number
Forename Ray
Surname Charles
Quantity 1

Interview Transcription

When people use words like genius about me, I’m grateful; being human, certainly I appreciate it. It would be true to say I’ve come from “rags to riches”, because I started at zero. I grew up in below poverty-level America, just about the poorest they had, really.

My basic instrument was piano; from there I started to fool around with clarinet. As a matter of fact, I used to be a much better clarinet player than a saxophonist. But then saxophones became very popular, so I switched over. I play a little of all of them now.

The singing was always there. As a little kid, maybe three years old, I was trying to holler something. I did them both - playing and singing - from the beginning. Without wanting to sound too egotistical, to be perfectly frank I thought all along that I would make it both ways. I felt that I could sing fairly well, and on piano, I didn’t regard myself as an Art Tatum, but I thought I could probably hold my own.

It’s hard to say whether being blind has had any bearing on my musical abilities, since I don’t have anything to compare with. What I mean by that: if I had seen for, maybe, eighteen or twenty years and then lost my sight, I could talk about it. But, you see, ever since I was about six, somewhere along in there, I’ve been blind. So there is no way for me to say I would have been better or worse in any way. However, I think that I probably was meant to become an entertainer, regardless of which way it had gone.

Regarding the people who have inspired me: in earlier days, Nat Cole certainly had a tremendous influence on me in my singing. So did Charles Brown and some of the other blues singers who went out of style, and I didn’t have a chance to get around to. Such as Big Joe Turner, Tampa Red, Big Boy Crudup, Blind Boy Phillips.

These are people I heard when I was eight or nine years old, and admired very much. And, of course, for my piano playing, as a child I considered Art Tatum to be the greatest. Even today, I still think he’s the greatest who ever lived.

As for composers I like, I have to mention Quincy Jones, even though people may think I’m saying that because he’s a personal friend of mine. We are very tight, but even if we weren’t I’d still name him as a marvellous writer. Peter Nero is also excellent, and he can really play, too; so is Henry Mancini. This is the kind of thing I like. There are a lot of very good composers around today.

That live recording by Aretha Franklin that I joined in on recently? It was a true accident. I just happened to be in a club in San Francisco, and somebody said to me: “Hey, Ray, Aretha’s working at Basin Street West” or wherever it was, and I said: “I didn’t know that. So why don’t we go by and catch her?” So we all went by, and I was sitting out there. Evidently somebody told her, and before I knew it she’d left the stage and come up and snatched me. I mean, I can’t argue with a woman - it’s very difficult for me! She said: “Come on up and do something”. But I didn’t know what to do. I’m sure, if you listen to the song we did, “The Spirit In The Dark”, you could tell I don’t even know the thing. I’d heard her sing it, but I think when Aretha sings something, after that everybody else should forget about it. You know nothing else can be done to it. So I didn’t know it, but I figured: okay, since I’m here we might as well fake it the best we can. And the thing wound up selling over a million records.

On the question of doing a complete album with her, it’s not a matter of planning but of desire. I would like to do it, but right now there aren’t any plans for it, mainly because of difficulties connected with distribution. For my money, I don’t think there is any female singer around today that can out-sing Aretha. I really mean that, with all respect. I’m not saying that there aren’t good female singers, or that there aren’t any that are as good in their own field. But for what Aretha does, in her field, no woman can beat her - it’s as simple as that.

The film that I made about five years ago wasn’t terribly successful; the showing it got was only because of the name I have. I must say, it was not really a good film. It was good for me, only because I’d never made a film before. I really enjoyed doing it, and it gave me an insight on what goes into film-making.

I don’t think I would like to be a movie star. When you make movies, you do an awful lot of nothing. You go on a set and you waste so much time. Maybe it takes you thirty minutes tops to actually do the small scene that they have for you; then you go back to your dressing–room and you wait two and a half hours.

And television’s a great deal like that also. Once I get on stage, I do my work, and when I’m finished, that’s it. But making a movie or doing television is a little different.

Is it any problem to keep that happy spirit in my performances, two shows a night, for many nights in a row? Well, I would like to think that I’m something of a professional. I’ve been doing this for over twenty-five years. The key to the whole thing is to know how to pace yourself. It’s like anything else: you’re aware of what you can do and what you can’t do, and you’re geared up for it. Obviously, its work, but its good work, plus the fact that I like to regard it as a hobby that I get paid for.

To relax off the stage, I’m a great lover of the game of chess. So when I have any time whatsoever, I like to just sit down and play some chess, where you have to think. Believe it or not, to me that’s quite relaxing.

I wouldn’t say I’m against being totally immersed in the music business, though. Actually, I don’t know if I’m totally against anything. I like to think that a human being has a right to do whatever fits him. Unfortunately, many people seem to try to live as other people do. The greatest thing in the world is to know how you want to live, and live that way.

I don’t give a damn what anybody else thinks; my way is what I want. If a feel I want to eat my cereal after breakfast instead of before my eggs, then I’ll do that. I’m the kind of a guy: I conform when it suits me, and if it doesn’t suit me, I don’t. I’m not of any particular faith, I’m not Catholic, Baptist, Jewish or anything else - but I happen to believe in a Supreme Being. I try to be sincere, not only with myself but with the public, so that when I go out on stage, if I don’t feel I can do a good show, I won’t continue. A human being should always be him or herself.

Yes, last December we recorded a jazz session with the band, and I guess it should be out around November of this year. I would love to do a jazz date with a small combo, too. If you could just get the musicians together… but it’s very difficult, you know. Each guy has his own thing going. If you can get Clark Terry, then maybe Dizzy Gillespie’s in Europe. If you can get Cannonball, then J. J. Johnson may be someplace else. I’ll tell you: one of these days I’ll sit down and give you a list of the people I’d love to get together in a small combo and do a session. But that’s dreaming, really. If you could pull it off, though, I think it would be very, very great.

 Copyright © 1971, Les Tomkins. All Rights Reserved