The key ingredient of Hot Sauce

I enjoyed watching the Stax Soulsville USA documentary series shown recently Sky Arts. It followed up nicely my visit to the Stax Museum last year, and coincided with my re-reading of Peter Guralnick’s excellent book Sweet Soul Music where I just happened to be in the middle of the chapters dedicated to Stax Records when I watched the documentary. 

Two of the earliest soul singles I bought, back in the early 70s, were Isaac Hayes’ Theme From Shaft and The Staple Singers’ I’ll Take You There. The documentary spent, quite rightly, a deal of time on Isaac Hayes, and Theme From Shaft, including footage of it being worked through in the studio. Back in the early 70s, when I was a young teenager, I was simply loving the music without any idea of the backdrop to its making. My concerted dive into all things Stax over the last few months has finally brought home to me the tumultuous times, both culturally in the USA, and in the business runnings of Stax Records, in which these records were being made. I have to say I got quite emotional watching the final episode of the documentary marrying up memories of my young innocent self listening to those singles at home with the footage of the actual artists and backroom staff who were involved in their making and distribution, and what they meant for black Americans at that time.

Today’s record is one that recently dropped on my doormat.

Volt was one of Stax Records labels. Hot Sauce were… who? Well, “they” (as I had always thought) had a run of six 45s on Volt, this being the first in the late summer of 1971, and she (as it turns out) had the unfortunate pleasure of having the final 45 released on the label in early1975 just before Stax finally had to shut it doors for good. There was even a Hot Sauce album (in truth predominantly a collection of tracks form the six already released 45s – but Stax were struggling by then) slated for release and given a catalog number (and name checked on that final 45), but it was never to be. Ace Records finally did the honours, in a way, in 2012 by releasing the album as it would have been on CD. The CD was credited to Rhonda Washington because she was, essentially, Hot Sauce.

The track featured here is a beautiful ballad, the B side of the wonderfully titled I’ll Kill A Brick (About My Man). (“Kill A Brick” meaning a demonstration of extreme anger. The phrase was in use in the black population – at least in Harlem and at least as far back as the early 60s – as documented in a New York Times article published in 1964). For this first single Hot Sauce were, apparently, a trio – Rhonda on lead vocals with two male backing singers. But after that Hot Sauce was Rhonda Washington alone.

It is believed that Rhonda hailed from St. Louis and was Chuck Berry’s niece. Her first known appearance on wax was as the lead singer of the (Mighty) Mustangs who had two singles released in 1964/5 on the Sure-Shot label. All four sides of these singles were written by Gladys Battle, Rhonda’s mum. I would say Rhonda sounds young on these outings, probably in her teens. The second of the two singles is very rare. There followed, probably in early 1967, the only 45 released under her own name, again on the Sure-Shot label. This 45 appears to be insanely rare; it’s on Discogs but with no copies for sale and nobody claiming to own it, it’s not listed on 45cat, and there are no recorded sales on Popsike. It’s possible it was never actually released. Between 1967 and her appearance as Hot Sauce in 1971 she does not seem to have had any recording credits.

All the Volt Hot Sauce sides were credited to Irene Productions, Irene being Irene Perkins, wife of Al Perkins DJ, singer, songwriter and producer (latterly of Al Hudson & The Soul Partners / One Way), who was based in Detroit after being a DJ in Memphis. Velma Perkins appears in some credits (as songwriter Vee Allen) and was Al Perkins sister. However, despite being on Volt but also bearing strong Detroit links most of the Hot Sauce sides were actually probably recorded at Willie Mitchell’s Royal Studio just down the road from Stax’s studios.

Rhonda Washington had a great voice and, who knows, if Stax had had more money for promotion and hadn’t had to close its doors when it did she might well be much more of a household name. As far as is known though, as the doors at Stax closed for good they did also on Rhonda’s recording career. It is rumoured she went back to St. Louis and, possibly, gospel music. Certainly nothing seems to be known now of her whereabouts, if indeed she is still alive.

Hot Sauce – I Can’t Win For Losing 1971

One of those

You know the feeling when you hear a song and it quickly gets inside your head and you just can't stop replaying it to yourself, sometimes to the point you wish it would go away? "That's an earworm", I hear you say, and you are absolutely right. So why didn't I just say the word? Well, there is no doubt it perfectly describes the experience, but for reasons I can't explain I just don't like the word.

Anyway, this obscure song by Don Austin has recently become one of those for me. I heard it on Doug Schulkind's excellent WFMU Give The Drummer Some radio show. He usually plays a set of soul - often deep soul - 45s at the end of his program and this was one he played on a show from a few weeks ago. On hearing it immediately went onto the Internet to see if I could find a copy. Discogs had two for sale in the UK and I bought one of them. By the time it dropped through the letterbox the song The Thrill Of Yesterday (a B side) was already installed in my head, so maybe I hadn't needed to buy it all.    

First of all I should say this track is not deep soul, and it's questionable you could really call it soul at all actually. Don Austin was born Donald Austin and usually recorded as Donel Austin. His first two 45s were released in 1959 on the Mida label and could be categorised as rock-a-billy. In the 70s and 80s he had, after quite a hiatus, a steady trickle of 45s released, all of which I think fall into the country bag. He did, however, have a couple of 45s released on the ALON label in 1962. This was a New Orleans label (it of course spells NOLA backwards), and the writing credit on both sides of this 45 is N.Neville i.e. Naomi Neville, in fact the one and only Allan Toussaint. How Don(el) ended up on a New Orleans label (his first label - Mida - was based in Miami) I have no idea about, nor why he appeared subsequently to have no records released between 1963 and 1974.

The song races along at quite a clip, the jaunty horn fills are wonderful; the female backing singers brief refrains are placed just about right in the mix; you have to think it is Allan Toussaint himself on piano;  and, although Don's vocals are undeniably rooted in country and rock-a-billy, the whole thing does have an early New Orleans feel I think.      

Prepare for that thing to happen!

Don Austin - The Thrill Of Yesterday  1962                    

Another Feel It birthday.. and more big names lost.

This blog is 19 years old today. That is the bare fact, although it's a bit of a stretch to say it has been been trucking along for the entirety of those 19 years due to recent periods of dormancy. 

This blog, as you know, tends to celebrate soul and funk (and jazz and reggae) music of an increasingly bygone age. Soul and funk music in particular was arguably really at its height in the 60s and 70s. And there's the rub - it should be no surprise that the icons of that time will be very much in the twilight of their life. So it is proving as this year is building up to be another particularly bad one for long time lovers of soul and funk music as we have lost some big names on the scene already this year, and in the last few weeks in particular it has been difficult to keep up with the sad news flow.

Sam Moore, Jerry Butler, Gwen McCrae, Roberta Flack, Chris Jasper of the Isley Brothers, Muscle Shoals session man Albert 'Junior Lowe', Angie Stone, and Roy Ayers - all artists close to my heart over the years - have passed this year already. All have featured strongly in the soundtrack of my life since the early 70s. 

All I can say to all of those mentioned above is Rest In Peace and thank you for the music.    

    

Gwen McCrae - Keep The Fire Burning  1982

Roy Ayers Ubiquity - The Memory  1976 

PS: As it's this blog's birthday today, it also means, of course, that Candi Staton will be celebrating hers - Happy Birthday Candi! (I shall not tempt fate by saying anything more).