Soul Series: Growin’ Green Onions - The Birth of the MG’s Part II
- by Joe Nolan
Packy Axton and the other Mar-Keys became a ubiquitous presence at the studio on McLemore, backing sessions and searching for a hit of their own. One night during an intermission at a club gig, Chips Moman and studio keyboardist Smoochie Smith, came up with an interesting 3 chord riff during an intermission. Upon returning to the studio, Moman started to work the idea into a song using the Mar-Keys and a few other players - Smith manned the keys, while Booker T. Jones doubled the riff on the baritone sax. Stewart was unimpressed, but Estelle Axton was immediately excited by the groovy little song and declared that it was sure to be a hit.
“I kept bugging Jim. Then I started in on Chips. I said, ‘Look, this is a hit record.’ They said, ‘Forget it.’ Finally I got them to agree to it. They said for Packy to get the tape mastered and take it down to the pressing plant. That’s when we discovered that sixteen or eighteen bars had been wiped out.” - Estelle Axton, from Goin’ Back to Memphis by James Dickerson
Upon realizing that the song’s introduction had disappeared somewhere between the recording studio and the mastering lab, Packy fell into a panic and called his aunt. She reminded him that they had spent the whole evening recording the song, and, surely, there was an acceptable recording of the intro that could be substituted.
It fell to Packy to sift through the 50 odd takes of the song, find the missing bars at the beginning, and splice them into place. Although Estelle Axton and many of the players claim they can still hear the edit on the recording, Packy saved the song, and it’s a good thing he did.
Released in 1961, “Last Night” blasted to No. 2 on the pop charts, earning the infectious tune the title of the hottest-selling record in the history of Memphis. Estelle was right again. However, like so many other victory’s for the little label, sweet success was not without its bitter side.
“Last Night” brought unwanted notoriety to Satellite in the form of another label that claimed they had the rights to the Satellite name. Jim and Estelle put their heads together - and their last names - deciding that from then on, the label would be known simply as Stax.
With “Last Night” hovering at the top of the charts, The Mar-Keys quickly rearranged themselves into a touring unit to support the single. The band now included Steve Cropper on guitar, Donald “Duck” Dunn on bass, Packy on the tenor saxophone, Smoochie Smith on keys, Terry Johnson on drums, and Wayne Jackson and Don Nix on trumpet and baritone sax, respectively.
Back in Memphis, Moman was becoming a well-known presence, frequenting music clubs at night, playing gigs, or just fraternizing with fellow players backstage and after-hours. Moman’s reputation as a producer, and his high profile in the Memphis music community meant that he was constantly in touch with young talent wanting to record at Stax.
One of the first young singers Moman brought to the studio was William Bell, a popular 22- year-old singer who was well-known in black clubs in Memphis. Bell was soon to be drafted into the army, but not before recording “You Don’t Miss Your Water.” The song was recorded as a demo, but it was decided that the recording had a special kind of magic, so Stax sent it straight off to be mastered. “‘Water” became a huge hit in the South, and climbed into the national charts. More importantly, the song helped Stax define the kind of vocal-based soulful sound that the label would become known for. In the meantime, Booker T. Jones had other ideas.
Stewart, the fiddle player, was anxious for Stax to make a mark on the Country charts. The Mar-Keys had come in off the road, and Stewart quickly set up a session. He brought in a country vocalist, and booked Jones, Cropper, Al Jackson on drums and Lewis Steinberg on bass. While waiting for the singer to arrive, the guys started jamming on a riff they had been kicking around on their road gigs. The simple, bluesy notes combined a lazy sexuality, with compelling repetition. In that melody lay the birth of one of the most important American bands of all time, and the end of the label as they had all come to know it. Stax had just been christened with its new name, when events conspired to tear it to pieces.
Sources:
Peter Guralnick’s Sweet Soul Music, Harper and Row, 1986
James Dickerson’s Goin’ Back to Memphis, Simon and Schuster Macmillan, 1996
Michael Haralambos’ Right on: From Blues to Soul in Black America, Drake Publishers, 1975
Respect Yourself: The Stax Story, documentary film, produced by Tremolo Productions,
Concord Music Group and Thirteen/WNET New York, for PBS’ Great Performances, 2007
Joe Nolan is a poet, musician and freelance journalist in Nashville, TN. Nolan writes about visual art for the journal, Number, published by the University of Memphis. Find out more about his projects at www.joenolan.com.