Sam Cooke: The RCA Albums Collection (2011) [8CD Box Set]

When Sam Cooke signed with RCA Records in 1960, he had already had several hits ("You Send Me," "What A Wonderful World," and "Only Sixteen" among them) on the small independent label Keen Records. He had paid attention to the business sides of things, too, and he signed with RCA because he was allowed to keep control of his song publishing. His RCA albums, eight of them, were mixed affairs for the most part, often full of covers, but Cooke was never less than charismatic when he sang, and his last two albums, the blues-inflected Night Beat and the dynamic One Night Stand! Sam Cooke Live at the Harlem Square Club, both of which were released in 1963, are classics by any definition. This box set collects all of Cooke's RCA LPs, and if some of them seem random, it's always Sam Cooke, which means all of them are worth having. Here's an easy way to do that.

by Steve Leggett

Легендарная фигура американской популярной музыки, новатор и одна из ярчайших звезд музыки соул.
Сэм Кук родился в блюзовом эпицентре дельты Миссисипи, в городе Кларксдейл, рос и воспитывался в музыкальной и христианской семье, был певцом в поместной чикагской баптистской церкви. После школы он увлекся ритм-н-блюзом, при этом остался верным госпелу. К 1951 году был одним из ведущих певцов госпелс Чикаго.
Дебютировал он в 1956 году с песней «Lovable», и это был отнюдь не госпел, а самая что ни на есть поп-композиция. На следующий год Кук записал сингл «You Send Me», который возглавил хит-парад США и разошелся тиражом почти 2 миллиона.
Когда Кук стал популярен, то он, дабы не потерять место в Specialty Records, ориентирующегося на госпеле, стал использовать разные студийные псевдонимы.
К концу 50-х Сэм Кук полностью сменил имидж, превратившись в крупнейшего автора и исполнителя баллад и «легкой» эстрадной музыки. 11 декабря 1964 года, в разгар своей популярности, Сэм Кук был застрелен в собственном номере в мотеле. Его застрелила поклонница, утверждавшая, что Кук напал на нее.
В истории он остался одним из родоначальников стиля соул наравне с Реем Чарльзом и Джеймсом Брауном. О влиянии Кука на свое творчество говорят такие звезды рока, как Майкл Джексон, Род Стюарт, Отис Реддинг, Эл Грин, и многие другие.
В 1986 году он в числе первых был избран в Зал славы рок-н-ролла.

Sam Cooke's debut album for RCA was a fundamentally flawed attempt to shoehorn his singing into a safe, MOR pop concept album, showcasing songs about different parts of the world. The strings and harps are almost overpowering and, given what Cooke should have been singing for his first LP for the label, are doubly inappropriate. The repertory is about as safe as can be, including "Jamaica Farewell," "South of the Border," "Bali Ha'i," "Arrivederci, Roma," and "London by Night" – the only surprise is Earl Robinson's "The House I Live In," which was associated with Josh White and Frank Sinatra and, in its own way, was part of the 1940s roots of the modern Civil Rights movement. Cooke would later get a lot more topical and soulful.

by Bruce Eder

Sam Cooke's second RCA album is mostly a missed opportunity, in terms of representing much about Sam Cooke as an artist or singer – having him cover pop hits of the previous decade wasn't a terrible idea on its face, but Cooke was still getting accustomed to working at RCA, and he wasn't inspired by the material or the way it was chosen, and the result is an album aimed at what the label thought the white teenage market was all about (and what the company thought the parents of those kids would be most comfortable with them buying from a black recording artist), that's a lot less interesting than some of the singles, including "Chain Gang" and "Wonderful World," that he was doing around the same time. His versions of hits associated with Nat "King" Cole, Johnnie Ray, and the Platters should have made for a more interesting record. Hits of the Fifties is still an improvement over its immediate predecessor, Cooke's Tour, but it's also one of the records that for many years – in the absence of his best material being available – blighted Cooke's reputation as a soul singer.

by Bruce Eder

Sam Cooke began his career as a gospel singer, and after two pop-oriented LPs, the label and Cooke's producers, Hugo & Luigi, decided to play to that side of his repertoire and reputation for this, his third album. Certainly opening the album with the traditional spiritual "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" and using it as the title track was an acknowledgment of his history. Despite some intersections with his gospel roots and his past history with the Soul Stirrers, however, this album isn't quite what one would expect from its title – most of Swing Low consists of pop repertoire (including Broadway material), albeit songs that have a devotional, reflective aspect, or a spiritual tone, and the production is very full, if not quite as overblown as some of the songs recorded elsewhere in Cooke's RCA library. The choir and brass are slightly overdone on the title song, but almost everything else is a study in understatement that plays to the quiet strength in Cooke's voice – "I'm Just a Country Boy," "They Call the Wind Maria" (from Paint Your Wagon), "Twilight on the Trail," and "If I Had You" combine with the title song and the single "Chain Gang" to make side one of this album a masterpiece of subtlety, and one of the high points of Cooke's early LP output. If parts of his other early-'60s RCA albums represent a tragedy of wasted opportunities, through bad song choices or worse arrangements, Swing Low falls on the other side of that line, bringing home what could (and should) have been – one hears a phenomenal talent moving in almost precisely the right direction. Side two is a little weaker in focus, digressing back to a trio of 19th century chestnuts, "Grandfather's Clock," "Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair," and "Long, Long Ago," which Cooke's voice does elevate. And then we get to Johnnie Taylor's "Pray," the highlight of the album in Cooke's hands, and a song and performance that bring the focus back where it should be. The album closes with "You Belong to Me," an original by Cooke and J.W. Alexander, and the Antonin Dvorak-spawned spiritual "Goin' Home" – the arrangement of the latter almost swings a little too much, but finally comes off well, and both can be counted among the finest things Cooke ever cut for a long-player and, along with "Pray," among his must-own performances. In contrast to many of the singer's early RCA LPs, where one must pick and choose the jewels from among weaker moments, Swing Low is the man and the voice in much of their glory across most of the album.

by Bruce Eder

Sam Cooke's voice is justifiably legendary, but most of his RCA albums are astonishingly little-known today, and My Kind of Blues explains why this is so, at least in part. The singing is superb throughout, but the repertoire, even in 1961, was not terribly well defined or the recordings well arranged. The basic problem lay in the nature of Cooke's career arc, which probably straddled too many styles and musical worlds for his own good – the spiritual and the secular, pop and rock & roll, and pop and soul, all as defined in his time (which was, effectively, from the early '50s to the early '60s). The "blues" as a label on an album had a much wider meaning than it would have had at the other end of the decade, or any time since – Cooke was part of a world where adult pop still held sway and seemed, at least for the LP market, a more attractive target than the teenage or even collegiate audiences of the time. Thus, the "blues" heard here would have been appropriate for a mainstream singer – say, Sinatra, or Nat King Cole – circa 1961 (or, really, about 1957 – Cooke's producers were very conservative) – rather than what most listeners today would call blues. Brassy, big-scale orchestrations abound, and even the leaner textured songs, such as "Little Girl Blue" and "You're Always on My Mind," rely on a reed or horn section, respectively, to augment the electric guitar, piano, bass, and brushed drums at the core of their arrangements. Some of this works beautifully, as on "Nobody Knows You When You're Down and Out," which was a good enough song to make it into Cooke's set at his Copa appearances, and, along with a handful of other tracks here, also onto the compilation The Rhythm and the Blues (and the box set The Man Who Invented Soul). All of this is what would probably be called "smooth blues" (assuming it is defined as blues at all in a modern sense); it's more soul of a pop variety. But Cooke's voice carries it – even the weakest arrangements and material get elevated, as the best of Cooke's interpretive instincts overcome the worst of his producers' instincts. Given its limitations, My Kind of Blues was never going to be a defining album in Cooke's output, and had he lived past 1964 it almost certainly would have been relegated to his "early period" in a full career. Its strongest moments, of which there are many, stand on their own, however, and the leanest of the arrangements point the way toward greater things that were to come, including the best parts of Mr. Soul and the whole Night Beat album.

by Bruce Eder

This was one of Cooke's more successful LPs, only his second ever to chart (the first was his 1957 debut long-player), and from here on, all of his albums would sell in serious numbers. Twistin' the Night Away remains one of Cooke's most accessible records, despite the fact that it was a "twist" album, aimed by the producers at cashing in on that craze, and Cooke was shoehorned into doing numbers like "Camptown Twist," "Twistin' in the Kitchen With Dinah," and "Twistin' in the Old Town," as well as his version of Hank Ballard's "The Twist." Around them, the singer is at his most soulful, exciting, and passionate, on the bluesy "Somebody Have Mercy"; the romantic lament "Somebody's Gonna Miss Me"; the ebullient "Sugar Dumpling"; the achingly beautiful, yearning "A Whole Lot of Woman"; the soaring "Soothe Me" (with Lou Rawls); and the slow dance number "Movin' and Groovin' ." One of the great dance albums of its period, but a brilliant soul album as well, which is why it holds up 40 years later.

by Bruce Eder

Sam Cooke released two albums in 1963, and the second, Night Beat, is often cited as the best of all his long-players. But the first, Mr. Soul, shouldn't be ignored, despite some flaws in its conception and execution. At the time, the powers-that-were at RCA Victor didn't know which audience to aim for with Cooke's albums. LPs were seldom huge sellers among teenage listeners, so the notion of trying to connect to an adult audience – a la Nat King Cole – probably seemed logical, and Mr. Soul suffered somewhat from this uncertainty of purpose and audience; it is a soul album, to be sure, but by the standards of the time a somewhat tentative one in many spots. Unlike Night Beat, which was an exercise in production restraint, Mr. Soul is over-produced and relies too much on strings where they aren't needed and choruses that are overdone, even when they work. But Cooke rises above all of it, and turns even some of the more questionably arranged songs, such as "Send Me Some Lovin'," into mini-masterpieces. A couple of tracks off of this album, "(I Love You) For Sentimental Reasons" and "Nothing Can Change This Love," were part of Cooke's live repertoire at the time and have, indeed, found a separate life on various compilations, but the rest was unavailable for over 45 years, until Sony/BMG re-released most of Cooke's RCA library. The best of that rest – which is most of it – shows him still rising to the peak of his powers, his voice wrapping itself around lyrics and melodies that might seem too familiar ("Cry Me a River," etc.) and bland, and making them much more significant and powerful than they seemingly have a right to be. The strings are overworked at times, but where they are held back, as on "Little Girl," their presence only adds to the impact of the track – and elsewhere, Cooke quietly overpowers them. Modern listeners should bear in mind that, as a soul album, this is a fairly laid-back record – those expecting anything like the exuberance of Otis Redding, or Clyde McPhatter or Ben E. King, may be disappointed at first; Cooke does work up a sweat on various parts and phrases, but a lot of what is here, by virtue of the label's wishes for a crossover record, is what might be terms "cool" soul – smooth and sometimes bluesy, in a low-key way, quietly emotive on numbers such as "These Foolish Things," with the hot moments in special abundance on numbers like "Chains of Love" and "Send Me Some Lovin'." But even in these cool, restrained settings, Cooke's was still one of the finest voices of his century, and worth taking in for every breath and nuance.

by Bruce Eder

Saddled with soaring strings and vocal choruses for maximum crossover potential, Sam Cooke's solo material often masked the most important part of his genius – his glorious voice – so the odd small-group date earns a special recommendation in his discography. Thankfully, Cooke's voice took center stage on this admirably low-key session from February 1963, recorded in Los Angeles with a quartet of studio veterans. Unlike so many session crews and producers of the time, these musicians gave him plenty of space and often simply framed Cooke's breathtaking vocals. (On one of the best tracks here, "Lost and Lookin'," he's barely accompanied at all; only bass and cymbals can be heard far in the background.) The results are wonderful – except for his early Soul Stirrers sides, Night Beat is the best place to marvel at one of the two or three best voices of the century. The songs are intimate blues, most taken at the pace of a late-night stroll, but despite the dark shading and heart-rending tempos, Cooke's voice is so transcendent it's difficult to become depressed while listening. Cooke also wrote three of the songs, including the excellent "Mean Old World," and rendered the traditional "Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen" practically unfamiliar with his own re-arrangement. Cooke also stretches out on a pair of jump blues classics, "Little Red Rooster" and "Shake, Rattle and Roll," summoning some honest grit for the former and putting the uptown swing into the latter. He also allows some solo space, from Barney Kessel's simple, unadorned solo on "Get Yourself Another Fool" to Billy Preston's playful organ vocalizing on "Little Red Rooster." If Sam Cooke had lived longer, there would've been several more sessions like this, but Night Beat is an even richer treasure for its rarity.

by John Bush

Not only is this one of the greatest live soul albums ever released, it also reveals a rougher, rawer, and more immediate side to Sam Cooke that his singles only hinted at, good as they were. Working with a merged band that included guitarist Cliff White and drummer Albert "June" Gardner from Cooke's regular touring outfit and saxophonist King Curtis and his band, Cooke brings a gospel fervor to these whirlwind versions, which are fiery, emotionally direct, and hit with uncommon power. Every track burns with an insistent, urgent feel, and although Cooke practically defines melisma on his single releases, here he reaches past that into deeper territory that finds him almost literally shoving and pushing each song forward with shouts, asides, and spoken interactions with the audience, which becomes as much a part of this set as any bandmember. "Chain Gang" is stripped down to a raw nerve, "Twistin' the Night Away" explodes out of the gate like a runaway rocket, and Curtis' sax breaks on "Somebody Have Mercy" make it sound like the saxophone was invented for this one song alone. Throughout Cooke's voice is a raspy laser that makes it obvious what Rod Stewart picked up from this recording, and it is impossible not to hear Cooke's voice looming behind Stewart's once you've heard this amazing live set. Although recorded January 12, 1963, at the Harlem Square Club in Miami in 1963, RCA didn't release it as an album until 1985. The set was remixed from the original first generation three-track tape for 2000's The Man Who Invented Soul box, and while the music (and Cooke's vocals in particular) sounded much cleaner, much of the crowd noise from the 1985 mixes was toned down, robbing the recording of some of its claustrophobic, frenzied power. The mix used here seems to more or less split the difference, but the crucial key is and was always Cooke's vocals, and while he was a marvelously smooth, versatile, and urbane singer on his official pop recordings, here he explodes into one of the finest sets of raw secular gospel ever captured on tape. It is essential listening in any version.

by Steve Leggett