Music Notes by Mark Jordan The Sad Story of Stax Frankly, it’s very hard not to interpret as racism the shameful way Stax Records’ legacy has been discarded, especially in light of the way many of the city’s paler musical icons have been lionized in recent years. While Sun Studio and Elvis Presley’s rather tacky “mansion” are still standing (and making millions, to boot), the converted South Memphis movie theatre that was the base of operations for the South’s premier ’60s soul label is gone, a weed-riddled field in its place and a state historical marker the only indication it was ever there. While the strains of rock and blues are becoming louder along Beale Street (the city’s biggest tourist attraction, with the exception of James Govan at Rum Boogie), the sounds of Memphis soul are only occasionally heard in the clubs. And while there exist hundreds of tomes covering all the minutiae of Elvis’ life and death, there has not until this October ever been a book dedicated solely to the story of the label that produced Otis Redding, Sam and Dave, and Isaac Hayes. (Peter Guralnick’s excellent 1986 book Sweet Soul Music does tell much of the Stax story, but as a whole it is dedicated to the broader subject of all Southern soul music of the ’60s and ’70s.) Rob Bowman has gone a long way toward rectifying the injustice, however. A professor at Toronto’s York University, Bowman first began exploring the history of Stax as a Ph.D. candidate at the University of Memphis in 1985. Over the next 12 years, he interviewed almost everyone closely associated with the label – more than 200 interviews altogether. His extensive research on the label served him well when he penned the Grammy-winning liner notes to The Complete Stax/Volt Soul Singles, Volume 3: 1972-1975, the final volume in a 28-CD reissuing of all of Stax’ soul A-sides. And now Bowman’s work has perhaps found its ultimate expression in Soulsville U.S.A.: The Story of Stax Records, a wonderfully dense and detailed account of a most unwieldly subject. The story of Stax is the story of some of the first truly integrated bands in rock history. It is the story of how the voice of one of Memphis’ poorest neighborhoods reached clear across the globe. It is the story of the empowerment of African Americans and the politicization of a country through the ’60s and ’70s. It is the tragedy of a 27-year-old singing genius’ life cut short, and of the business ineptitude that saw one of music’s most fabled labels auctioned off on the county courthouse steps. Bowman’s book for the first time marries a detailed retelling of established history with often-repeated rumors and stories that have rarely made it to paper. For instance, there’s the story about how John Lennon wanted to record the Beatles’ album Revolver at Stax, only to have manager Brian Epstein kill the idea. And then there’s the terrible moment when label founders Jim Stewart and Estelle Axton unwittingly signed all of Stax’s master recordings over to their distributor, Atlantic Records. In all, it is a story so rich, so Memphis that it is a crime that it has gone untold for so long. In honor of the book’s release, this Thursday, Bowman will be in town for a booksigning at Davis-Kidd from 4 to 6 p.m. And at 8 p.m. that night, Bowman and some of the artists who made Stax what it was will be honored at an invitation-only reception at B.B. King’s Blues Club. The highlight of the evening will be the presentation of gold records to Stax recording artists Isaac Hayes, the Staple Singers, Sam Moore, Booker T. and the MG’s, Rufus Thomas, Carla Thomas, Eddie Floyd, the Bar-Kays, and Jean Knight. Posthumous gold records will be also presented to Otis Redding and Moore’s partner in the Sam and Dave duo, David Prater. It may seem like too little, too late, but hopefully it’s just the beginning.		Not Just Another College-Bar Band One of the city’s up-and-comers, the Patrick Dodd Band wins over new fans with Pleasure. by Mark Jordan t’s the day after Thanksgiving, and the Library on Highland is packed to the walls, full of college kids enjoying the brief break before the push of final exams begins. The draft beer is flowing steadily and the young, attractive, well-dressed young men and women in the crowd are sniffing each other out; the mating ritual has begun. Though the opening band is good and loud, this crowd isn’t necessarily here to appreciate the music. Then the Patrick Dodd Band takes the stage. Four college-age guys pumping out serpentine but sinuous grooves, with Dodd’s full, soulful voice soaring above it all. And suddenly the crowd is pushing up against the stage, listening intently, and bobbing up and down to the beat. Big deal, you may say. Another college band providing a soundtrack to get drunk and make out to. And yes, if you didn’t actually sit down and listen to their music, it would be easy to mistake the PDB for just another college-rock band, a group whose appeal will last roughly as long as their academic career. But then there is the little matter of the music, isn’t there? In only nine months of existence, the PDB has emerged from the Dodd-family living room where they practice to become one the more promising young bands around, distinguished by their super-tight playing, smart, catchy songwriting, and Dodd’s made-for-radio voice. They recently released their first CD as a group, the very well-received Pleasure, and already have tunes written for a second. Though they have plans to start touring regionally in the new year, so far their reputation has mostly been confined to the Library and the rest of the Highland Strip, but that is slowly changing. “We were one of the first bands chosen to play Bluestock, and we got to play B.B. King’s, which was one of the busiest clubs that night,” says guitarist Blaine Lester. “There were old people there, young people, black, and white. … After we played, this one old blues guy came up and said, ‘It’s sounding real good, man.’” The band’s rise has been all the more impressive considering a year ago the PDB didn’t even exist and two years ago frontman Dodd, then in high school, could barely play guitar. “He couldn’t even play bar chords very well,” says Lester, who can rightfully take credit for getting Dodd into playing music when they were in school together. “I had this band, and we needed another guitar,” says Lester. “I knew Patrick used to play a little, so I saw him one day and asked him if he was still playing. He said yeah, came on over, and was in the band.” “Actually, I hadn’t even picked up the guitar in a while,” Dodd confesses. “When he asked me if I wanted to play, I don’t know, being in a band just sounded like fun.” Quickly, though, Dodd learned to express himself through music. One day when the singer left the band, Dodd stepped up to the microphone, to the surprise of his bandmates. And another time, as he and Lester sat around picking out cover tunes, Dodd surprised him with his first original song. After their high school band dissolved, Dodd and Lester took to playing around town as an acoustic duo, and once they had enough songs, they went into Mark Yoshida’s Rockingchair Studios to cut a tape. “It started out to be a demo, just to get gigs and stuff,” Dodd says. “If we had known it was going to be released we would have done things a lot differently.” Today, Dodd is a little embarrassed about Several Seasons, a disc that has been described as soulful folk. But Yoshida heard promise and wanted to produce another album with a full band. Yoshida introduced Dodd and Lester to bass player Will Lowrimore and drummer Gerald Law, who together had made up the rhythm section for the recently defunct Six Million Dollar Band. Having a rhythm section that had already played together brought an immediate tightness to the newly formed band. Law and Lowrimore brought a new range of musical influences to the table as well, something which has helped establish the band’s style, which is alternative but with a strong blues and soul feel. (Think a tighter, less busy version of Blues Traveler, without the harmonica.) The band debuted at this year’s Crossroads, and immediately started garnering praise for their full, mature sound. “People ask how we got so tight so quick, and we’re as surprised as anyone,” says Lowrimore. “The thing about this band is that everybody has different influences and different attitudes to music, but they all combine to complement each other and create a very unique groove.” And though he is the frontman, lead singer, and principal songwriter, Dodd agrees that the PDB is very much a collaboration. “I don’t think of it as Patrick Dodd and band, but as a whole, the Patrick Dodd Band,” Dodd says. “The name is just a convenience. If you took any one of us away, it wouldn’t be the same band.” n