back to Niagara Falls Reporter archive
His story is not unlike many other innovative black men of his generation. He worked hard, exuding creativity and inspiration, only to have white men take his work to the masses and reap millions of dollars in the process.
What separates him from the few who can rightfully claim to be his peers is that he never begrudged the white men their good fortune. He knew that ultimately his genius would be recognized and that the respect of subsequent generations of young men and women would serve as his ultimate reward.
His name was Otis Blackwell and he died of a heart attack May 6 at the age of 71. Chances are the name doesn't ring a bell, but rest assured, you know the work of Otis Blackwell and you'll carry it in your mind until the day you die.
Otis Blackwell very well may have been the greatest songwriter alive during the early decades of rock'n'roll. Try this litany of songs on for size. Blackwell wrote "Don't Be Cruel," "All Shook Up," "One Broken Heart For Sale," and "Return to Sender" for Elvis Presley. He wrote "Fever" for Peggy Lee and "Hey Little Girl" for Dee Clark. One of Blackwell's first records was "Daddy Rollin' Stone," released by Jay-Dee in 1953 and later covered by the Who. Otis also wrote "Handyman," a hit three times for Jimmy Jones, Del Shannon and James Taylor, respectively. If that wasn't enough, Otis Blackwell also penned two of Jerry Lee Lewis' most raucous chart-toppers, "Breathless" and "Great Balls of Fire."
Now that's a resume.
What was most amazing about Otis Blackwell was the humble nature that resided at the core of his being.
He was born in 1931 in Brooklyn. While the young Blackwell was weaned on R&B singers like Chuck Willis and Larry Darnell, it was the singing cowboys of Hollywood -- Tex Ritter in particular -- that he claimed had the most influence over his eventual writing style.
Blackwell was a true romantic and the theme of women's sexuality and its power over mere mortal men was a common theme that ran through his music.
On Christmas Eve of 1955, while working as a clothes-presser after a failed stint as a touring singer, Blackwell made a fateful decision that would forever free him from the mundane duties of a general laborer. On that day Blackwell sold six of his songs to Shalamar Publishing for $150. Among them was a little ditty called "Don't be Cruel." Elvis recorded the song with the same arrangement that Otis had laid down on the demo record and it went to No. 1 on the charts in 1956.
One of the most intriguing tales about the genius of Otis Blackwell concerns the genesis of the song "All Shook Up" -- a No. 1 hit for Elvis in 1957. Goldy Goldmark, who plugged records for Shalamar, was chiding Blackwell about his God-given ability to write hit songs that appealed to the masses, across age, sex, and racial lines. To accentuate his point, Goldmark emphatically shook the bottle of Pepsi he was drinking and slammed it down on the table. "I bet you can even make a hit out of that," he said to Blackwell and strode out of the room. The rest, of course, is pop music history.
She touched my hand what a chill I got
Her lips are like a volcano that's hot
I'm proud to say she's my buttercup
I'm in love
I'm all shook up
Mm mm oh, oh, yeah, yeah!
The later years of Otis Blackwell's life found him prolific professionally and snake-bitten personally. He went through a string of bad marriages and fell into discourse with the IRS. His sweet-natured, even-tempered personality endeared him to friends and family, but his one vice -- alcohol -- complicated his life. By his own admission, Blackwell frittered away his savings "on all the gin I could drink." Only the interceding benevolence of BMI Publishing convinced him not to sign away the rights and royalties to all of his songs.
In total, Otis Blackwell wrote over 1,000 songs. His best work made stars out of Presley, Lewis and Lee and left their indelible print on the history of rock'n'roll.
This humble man, who never wanted the spotlight and never envied those who became icons singing his work over the AM bandwidth, is now tinkling the keys of his piano for a standing-room-only crowd behind the pearly gates.
Those of us who remain have his body of work to comfort us in our grief, yet we cannot help but be "All Shook Up" over his passing.
| Niagara Falls Reporter | www.niagarafallsreporter.com | June 11 2002 |