There’s an old cliche that says you can’t sing the blues if you haven’t known pain. I don’t know if that’s literally true, but it’s pretty obvious that those who have suffered and overcome hardship are able to inject a certain richness of texture into their work, a level of emotion and complexity that other, more naive artists have a hard time achieving. If you want proof of that, have a listen to Ray Charles’ best-known song, “Georgia on My Mind.” If you have the means, listen to it on vinyl, with all the organic pops and scratches that come with that format. It’s a melancholy tune of lost love; performed by any other musician that’s all it ever could be. But when Ray sang it, there was much more going on there than mere sadness.
His voice was imperfect, as imperfect as that 45 rpm single and the old phonograph you inherited from your grandmother, the one with the fuzzy sound reproduction and the penny taped to the tone arm to keep it from dancing across the record. And yet Ray’s imperfect voice was, paradoxically, the best possible one for this particular song.
Even in his earliest recordings of “Georgia,” which he performed many, many times over the course of his life, Ray sounded like an old man. Maybe it was because he was blind, or because he was a black man who lived during Segregation. He struggled for years with a heroin addiction, and that might have contributed to his exhausted edge. Maybe he just had an old soul that enabled him to imagine what the song was really about. Whatever the reason, as you listen, you’ll hear things that go far beyond the sparse lyrics. You’ll hear regret and loss, yes, but also the memory of past joy. You’ll feel the love that this man once felt for his lost Georgia; more importantly, you’ll feel the love that he received from her. You’ll feel sunshine as young lovers walked hand-in-hand alongside a slow, muddy canal. You’ll understand in some deep, inarticulate way why all the others, as good as they were, never matched up to this One True Love, this Georgia. All this information contained in a brief, simple combination of a piano and a human voice. The voice of a man who had known pain in his life and learned how to use it. “Georgia on My Mind” is a masterpiece, one of my all-time favorite songs. But only when it’s performed by Ray Charles. No one else can do it justice.
Anne and I were lucky enough to hear him sing it live a few years ago. It may have been his last appearance in Salt Lake; I’m not sure. The concert was a little more jazz and little less blues than I would’ve preferred, but it was still an amazing experience to see a legend in the flesh. He was smaller than I expected, and more human. He laughed between songs of wrenching sadness, and he had a way of making a large symphony hall feel like an intimate club, or even someone’s basement rumpus room. You could imagine yourself sharing a beer with this man and feeling better about yourself for having known him.
Ray died this morning of liver failure, age 73. We won’t see his like again, not in this age of “perfect” pop music sung by ever-younger stars for whom “the blues” is just a description of denim. And that is a far sadder song than “Georgia on My Mind.”
Beautifully written Jas. Odd we have never had that conversation but “Georgia On My Mind”, the Ray Charles version is one of my all time favorite songs too. Though I had not sat and thought about all the reasons why exactly, you captured it perfectly in your piece.
Hey, thanks, Cheryl – I never knew you liked Ray Charles. I guess that says something about our good taste, eh? 🙂
Likewise, I never knew you liked Ray either. Most of my friends know him only from the Diet Pepsi commercials. 🙁 Still there was such a glorious richness to his voice and something so wonderful about those old records…
It was also nice to read a nice memorial to someone other that Reagan. I love living in DC but sometimes need a break!!!
Well, I must be honest — my introduction to Ray was the movie The Blues Brothers. But I think I redeemed myself by going out looking for actual records after that. 🙂
As for the Reagan coverage, yeah, I know what you mean. It’s really gotten overwhelming this week. I was incredibly annoyed this morning when, on The Today Show, Katie “I’m so perky” Couric wrapped up a nice piece on Ray by saying that Ray had had a relationship with the Reagans and had performed for them at some function, like the story on Ray only had any true meaning if it could somehow be connected back to The Big Story of the Day. I thought it was disrespectful to Ray, who deserved his own little moment without intrusion.
I thought about writing something here on the blog about Reagan, but ultimately decided not to because there was already so much attention being given to it. I figured I didn’t need to add my voice to the din.
Wise choice. I was irritated with Katie too. My parents liked Ray so I just always had him in the house. And we watched the Blues Brothers a lot too. My Dad’s favorite movie.
My mom has always liked r&b and Motown – Sam Cooke is one of her faves, for example – so I know I must’ve heard Ray at some point, but I don’t recall being really aware of him until I saw TBB. I think I remember seeing him on The Muppet Show, too, now that I think about it. I know there weren’t any Ray records around the house until I bought a greatest hits package. But I think he was just sort of an element in the cultural landscape growing up in the 70s and 80s, like a lot of other great guys (and gals) that the kids today have never heard of.
I think that’s my greatest frustration with younger people I know — they’re not interested in anything older than five minutes ago.