I was shocked when a friend texted me Friday night with the news that the great Bobby Womack had died.
Womack, at 70, had lived his life in dog years. He had survived, at various times, diabetes, severe pneumonia, major heart trouble, colon cancer and prostate cancer – as well as a long-term addiction to cocaine that saw him literally going line for line, pipe for pipe, with such crazed High Fly cats as Ike Turner and Sly Stone. He married Sam Cooke’s widow, who was 8 years his senior, just three months after Cooke was killed; the marriage broke up after Womack’s wife shot him after finding him in bed with her daughter. She winged him; the marriage was DOA. So Womack seemed indestructible. He was too tough, too talented, too damn crazy to do something as mundane as expire. But die he did.
There has been no official word of the cause of death, but as far as I am concerned he died from squeezing every last drop of life out of his time on Earth.
The man is gone, but his incredible legacy will live forever. He was a masterful guitarist who backed his mentor Sam Cooke, worked countless sessions, teamed with Ronnie Wood on a couple of Wood’s albums – he even played on a couple of tracks by The Rolling Stones, who, long, long ago, took his song, “All Over Now” to the top of the charts in England. He was an incredible R&B singer, one of the best, really, his style rooted in gospel, his soul informed by the experiences in his life. Listen to his readings of such unlikely songs as “Fly Me To The Moon,” “I Left My Heart in San Francisco” and “California Dreamin’ to hear a true definition of soul – the same soul that later defined some of his own remarkable songs …. “Across 110th Street,” (110th Street” is my favorite of the “blaxploitation” epics, with Curtis Mayfield’s incredible work on “Superfly” soundtrack coming in neck and neck. A great era for soul music) “Woman’s Gotta Have It (the best song Marvin Gaye never did),” “Looking For a Love” …. the list is long. His album, “The Poet,” is considered a modern R&B classic. He was still clearing new trails, working and touring with Damon Albarn’s band, Gorillaz, and releasing a solo album, “The Bravest Man In The Universe,’ in 2012 that, with help from Albarn, embraced electronica, angering older fans while making new ones.
I was out running an errand, listening to satellite radio, and lo and behold, what pops up but Womack’s “If You Think You’re Lonely Now” …. and the song, beyond the weirdness of its appearance between songs by Blue Cheer and JD Souther, made me smile as it is, in many ways, the PERFECT summation of Womack’s talents and view. The song is, essentially, two lines, repeated over and over as Womack alternately talks and testifies in a down-to-business manner that leaves him and all listeners saturated in sweat. It is P-U-R-E S-O-U-L, so much so that, around 1:22 in the song, he goes for this swooping soaring, gut-wrenching note – and misses the landing. That he DID NOT go back and fix the almost unnoticeable pitch wobble would be unthinkable today. But he understood, as did all the great soul singers, that it is the emotion behind the note, and what it conveys – not the note – that matters. It is the first electrifying moment in an sustained, ever-more electrifying performance. Womack brings the sweat and the heat, while a Philly Soul arrangement, replete with smoooooth crooned male background vocals (think the Stylistics) adds comfort and elegance. But the best thing about the song is the two lines, delivered over and over, Greek Chorus-style, to Womack’s mate/lover, who is always complaining about how he is never at home while he is “bringing home the bacon”: “If you think you’re lonely now, wait until tonight, girl.” A five-minute show of soul pyrotechnics that is nothing more than a SUSTAINED MIDDLE FINGER THRUST UPRIGHT THREAT, SOON TO BE REALITY. No real verse. No real chorus. JUST A THREAT. What an elegant bit of nastiness. And that’s Bobby Womack. He really was one of a kind.
Singer, songwriter, guitarist, Rock/Roll Hall of Fame inductee, raconteur, seeker, SOUL MAN. He lived life his way. We should all be so lucky.
