Growing up in Toronto in the 1950s and ‘60s in an immigrant family of Holocaust survivors, my chaotic and impoverished childhood was brightened by an emerging new music I heard on our little pink Philco radio — rhythm and blues (or, when played by white people, rock and roll).
At first, this music could only be heard Saturday mornings on radio station CHUM. The flaccid and trite pop music of the day — “O, My Papa” and “How Much is That Doggie in the Window?” — soon gave way to the sweet, soulful, and exciting songs of Fats Domino, Little Richard, Ray Charles and James Brown.
Fast-forward about four decades, and I find myself with a recording contract and living down the road from Charles Neville, who played in the bands of all my aforementioned musical heroes. What are the chances?
We — including my producer, Frank London, and multi-instrumentalist/recording engineer, Jim Armenti — invited Charles to a session at Armenti’s home studio, midway between Charles’ home and mine. Charles arrived, resplendent in an explosively colorful tie-dyed shirt. He was warm, gentle, and soft-spoken.
In the presence of a master, a few words are sufficient. We shook hands and I said only, “Gypsy-Jewish-soul-funk.” His smile widened as he repeated each word. He then blew everyone’s mind, as he proceeded to nail each of the two songs in a single take, with his beautiful tone and exquisite phrasing.
Due to Charles’ contributions to my recordings, my Yiddish folk, pop and theater songs are classified on some websites under the category of “bayou funk.” These recordings with Charles are among my most prized possessions.
I bumped into him one time at Thornes Marketplace on his way to catch a flight West to perform with his brothers. I took the opportunity to tell him that he and his brothers have a gift from God. His response was, “Yes, and we love to share it.”
Thanks for sharing, maestro.
Wolf Krakowski
Northampton