by Susan Ellis and Mark Jordan
here is,
they say, a curse upon the Boston Red Sox. According to legend, it dates
back to the dark day in 1919 when the Red Sox's financially strapped owner
Harry Frazee sold a power hitter named George Herman Ruth to the New York
Yankees for $125,000, thus practically giving away a player who would be
hailed as one of the greatest to ever play the game.
The
price -- or penance, if you will -- that Frazee and his organization are
still paying for their short-sightedness is "the drought."
In 1918, the year before they dealt Ruth away, the Red Sox won a then unprecedented
fifth World Series. Since then they have won none, a stretch of 89 years.
This despite some heart-breakingly close brushes, like the sixth game of
the 1986 series. That year, the Red Sox led the World Series three games
to two and in the sixth game were up 5-4 in the bottom of the 10th with
two men out. Then Red Sox first baseman Bill Buckner let a slow rolling
base hit go through his legs, allowing New York Met's Mookie Wilson to drive
in the winning run. It was a miraculous victory that buoyed the Mets and
inspired them to take the seventh game and the series.
The reason we bring all this up is that, over the past 40 or so years, it has seemed like the Memphis music scene, like the Red Sox, has had a curse upon it. That there has been some unseen force, manipulating the fates and preventing some of our brightest and best musicians from climbing over that peak to the valley of success. Sure, there have been plenty of Memphis success stories, but every one seems to be mitigated by a tragedy, a stupid mistake, or a promise unfulfilled.
Take Sun Records, for example. If there is an impetus for the Memphis curse it is here. Sun owner Sam Phillips did quite well for himself running a little blues label until he met a young Elvis Presley in 1954. In Elvis, Phillips found the "white man with the Negro sound and the Negro feel" that he had been looking for, and he helped launch Presley on a career that, though it showed no signs of becoming the phenomenon we now know it to be, even in its early days looked to be quite promising.
But
then in 1955, Phillips sold Presley's recording contract to RCA for a then-high
sum of $35,000. Phillips thought he could duplicate, maybe even improve
upon, the success he had had with Elvis. But with the cashing of the check,
just as it did when the Red Sox sold Babe Ruth, the curse began to take
hold. Phillips' second line of superstars started out promisingly, only
to one by one fall to personal and professional calamity: Jerry Lee Lewis
committed career suicide by marrying his 13-year-old cousin. Carl Perkins
was in a car crash that severely injured his bandmate brother and sparked
his own problems with alcohol. And Johnny Cash left the Sun fold, and he
too began a long bout with substance abuse
None of this was the ever-bitter end for Phillips. He went on to make a fortune by investing in Holiday Inn, and to this day he and his family are intricately involved in the local music business. But still, the question remains: What if?
Since then the curse has continued unabated, claiming the likes of Stax Records, Hi Records, Keith Sykes, John Kilzer, Human Radio, Jimmy Davis and Junction, and Neighborhood Texture Jam. Though none of these acts can really be considered failures, there is the sense that they could have been huge on a national level if only there had not been something -- sometimes dumb luck, more often than not, dumb label executives -- holding them back or even stopping them dead in their tracks
Wendy Moten's eponymous debut on EMI Records in 1992 suffered from a poorly timed release which had it competing with Whitney Houston's The Bodyguard soundtrack for the ears of soulful pop fans. But the record did produce the single "Come In Out of the Rain," which topped the Adult Contemporary charts at number five. She appeared on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno and toured with Michael Bolton. Not bad for a debut artist.
But when Moten finished he follow-up, the second, ballad-heavy record was deemed too out-of-it for competition with rap and hip-hop, and EMI decided not to release it in the United States.
Moten, at this point, says she was ready to explore new musical ground, so she turned to the EMI-owned IRS Records, for her third album. Moten was working in Japan when the album was released, with no promotion, in the United States. Then IRS label folded and Moten was back, by default, with EMI.
In retrospect, the demise of IRS was a particularly devastating event for Memphis artists. Chris Scott, formerly with Son of Slam, might even consider Moten lucky -- at least she got a record made for IRS. Scott says his band had experienced a taste of success with their first record released on Eli Ball's Outlaw Records label, but after years of doing hand-to-mouth tours, the band was ready to move to another, more financially stable level.
They
could see a bright light in the distance when they struck a deal with a
man named Mike Bone. Bone was attempting to buy IRS from EMI with the label's
original owner Miles Copeland. Bone, says Scott, told them that Son of Slam
would be the first band signed to the newly liberated IRS. The deal didn't
go through, and IRS ceased to exist. Scott recalls, "When it came down,
we had a conversation with Mike Bone saying, `The deal's not going to happen.
There will be no IRS records. Sorry.'" And that was that.
Since his run-in with IRS, Scott and fellow Son of Slam member Eric Lewis have formed a new band, the country-rock outfit the Mudflaps, that has built a large local following and seems destined to attract the industry vultures, a prospect Scott remains wary of.
But as for Moten, she remains determined to make a go of it with the major labels. Though still signed to EMI, Moten, who is currently touring with Julio Iglesias, says she won't make another record for that company. She is trying to get out of her contract and is considering suing if she has to. But she remains optimistic that the payoff will be bigger things. "I'm busting my butt trying to make it happen," she says. "If it was meant to be, it will be. And if not, if won't be because I didn't try."
Will Moten be the one to break the curse? Or will it be Big Ass Truck, Garrison Starr or someone we don't even know yet. We can only hope.
By the way, how are the Red Sox doing this year?