Tag: Isaac Hayes

Categories
Letter From The Editor Opinion

Letter From the Editor: Blues, Balls, and Memphis Legends

When I moved to Memphis in the early 1990s, my first job at this company was running the special-publications division, helping put together magazines for customers needing a promotional or informational print product. One of my first customers was a woman named Pat Kerr Tigrett, who had an idea for a big party called the Blues Ball.

She wanted to create a colorful, magazine-type program for the party and have it bound into Memphis magazine’s October 1994 issue — which is where I came in.

If you look up the phrase “force of nature,” you will see a picture of Pat Tigrett. If you’d looked up “bumfuzzled” in 1994, you’d have seen a picture of me, trying to keep up with Pat, who was simply bursting with ideas and to whom the words “final deadline” meant “the day we might possibly think about starting to wrap this up.”

Every day there was a new idea, a new story to write, new (or old) photos to find, new people to call and schedule for interviews or pictures. I spent so much time at Pat’s downtown condo working out details, people were starting to talk.

“Just call Sam at home. Here’s his number. He’d love to talk to you,” she’d say.

“Sam?” I said.

“Sam Phillips, you know, Sun Records, the man who discovered Elvis?”

“Uh, okay.” And Sam was happy to talk, a lot. In fact, I felt like I needed a translator to parse his stream-of-consciousness rap.

And when Pat mentioned calling Isaac, I soon realized she was talking about Isaac Hayes. In fact, she was seemingly on a first-name basis with every living Memphis music legend: Rufus Thomas, Willie Mitchell, Jerry Lee Lewis, Carl Perkins, Al Green, Booker T. & the MG’s, the Bar-Kays, David Porter, the Memphis Horns, B.B. King, Sam and Dave, Sid Selvidge, Jim Dickinson, Big Star, the Staple Singers, etc.

As a new guy to Memphis who grew up listening to most of these icons, it was thrilling to be able to meet them and, in some cases, get to know them a little bit.

After a few years, the program got so big it wouldn’t fit in Memphis magazine, so our company got out of the Blues Ball business.

And I hadn’t been to the Blues Ball for a few years, but last weekend was the 20th anniversary of Pat’s big party, so my wife and I went. My, how it has grown. Outside dinner seating in downtown Memphis for a few hundred people, anyone?

This year’s honoree was Sam Moore, of Sam and Dave, whose performance at the Obama White House this spring may end up being noted by historians as the highlight of this president’s second term.

At 77, Moore hasn’t lost a thing. Backed by a stellar group of Memphis session men, he transported us all back to the glory days of Stax. It was transcendent, and I am grateful to have been able to experience it — and proud to be able to say I live where so much musical greatness was spawned.

And so, in this issue, when we talk about the “Best of Memphis,” just remember, that’s really saying something.

Bruce VanWyngarden

brucev@memphisflyer.com

Categories
Special Sections

When James Jones Lived at Leahy’s Tourist Court

From_Here_to_Eternity.jpg

Most everybody is familiar with the best-selling novel, From Here to Eternity, which the Modern Library has ranked #62 on its list of the “100 Best Novels.” Perhaps even more of you have seen the 1953 movie based on the book, which won a whopping eight Academy Awards. Even if you haven’t read the book or seen the movie, I KNOW you’re familiar with the famous “beach-kiss” scene featuring — oh good grief, do I have to tell you everything?

But (and this is my point) how many of you know that James Jones, the hard-drinking, tough-as-nails author of this book, along with many others, actually wrote it while he was living in Memphis — at Leahy’s Tourist Court, of all places? Not many, I bet.

But it’s true. In 1943, Jones had been shipped to Kennedy General (later Veterans) Hospital here to recover from injuries he received in action at Guadalcanal. He must have liked it here, because he returned with his wife, Lowney, in 1950, and settled down at Leahy’s to write the greatest novel of his career.

With assistance from a former Memphian named Birch Harms (it sounds like a made-up name, doesn’t it?) I tracked down an old friend of Jones, Captain Patt Meara, now retired and living in Florida, who told me the whole story, and a lot more — including all those times he and Jones went to the (in)famous Plantation Inn over in West Memphis to enjoy a band with an up-and-coming young singer by the name of … Isaac Hayes.

I tell the whole dramatic story in the September issue of Memphis magazine. So turn your computer off right now — do it! — and go pick up a copy if (for shame!!) you don’t already subscribe.

In the meantime, here’s an old postcard of Leahy’s when it had seen better days. The old house was torn down a few months ago.

BOOKJACKET IMAGE COURTESY OF PATT MEARA — Look carefully at the credit line and you’ll see that Meara took the photo that ran on the dustjacket of the first edition.

LeahysTouristCourtPC.jpg

Categories
Opinion The Last Word

The Rant

CREDIT: Thierry Le Goues

I don’t know if there is anything to be said or

written now about Memphis’ much-loved Isaac Hayes that

hasn’t already been said in the week since his passing, but I feel obligated

to try. And what I want to do is thank the members of Topeka’s Westboro Baptist “Church” from

Topeka, Kansas, for standing out on Walnut Grove Road waving “God Hates Isaac Hayes” signs Monday, just a few blocks from Hope Presbyterian Church, where Isaac’s memorial service was held. Yes, I want to thank them. But don’t throw this paper down in disgust until you read further. As many of you probably know, the “people” from Westboro have a long and controversial history of protesting in this manner at various events. They are especially known for doing this at the funerals of fallen U.S. soldiers, their “reason” being that the United States government is too lenient about homosexuality. But regarding Isaac, their protest was — according to their godhatesfags.com official website — because Isaac misused his musical talent for promoting sexual promiscuity instead of praising the word of God. The reason I want to thank them is that they are great teachers, despite the fact they don’t have a clue that they are and the fact that they don’t really even know how to garner publicity for themselves (unless they are garnering it here, and if so, I apologize). They are great teachers because they inform the world around them that hate, bigotry, and intolerance are the traits of the absolutely most asinine members of the lunatic fringe. Think about it for a moment or two. Say someone with an I.Q. higher than a tube of Chap Stick has one little inkling of bigotry in his or her being and just happens to witness this “God hates …” protest. After seeing this and recoiling in horror at the stupidity of it, I would hope that the person then begins to do a little self-examination to see if he has anything at all in common with those idiots. If so, I would hope that he realizes that having any atom in his body that resembles these people is a major, major problem that needs to be addressed. I’m thinking especially of the people who claim to be non-racist and tolerant and liberal and forward-thinking, but who also have the slightest little part of themselves that thinks black people are just a bit less deserving of good things than they are; that gays are just a tiny bit less deserving of equal rights than the rest of society; that Muslims are all terrorists at heart and are therefore dangerous; that poor people are poor because they are lazy; that drug addicts are drug addicts because they are weak human beings with no morals; that homeless people are homeless because they just don’t want to work. Think about it again for a moment. And think about it hard and try to be as honest with yourself as you can possibly be. If you find that you do have some little part of yourself that feels that way and you aren’t doing anything to try to change it, you might take a closer look at the Westboro folks carrying signs that read “God Hates Fags” and “God Hates Isaac Hayes.” I know I’m on a soapbox, and I apologize if I am boring you. So back to Isaac Hayes and not being able to write or say anything else about him that hasn’t already been said or written, I just want to convey this little story: Some months back, in the winter, Isaac was at the Stax Museum (where I work) for a magazine photo shoot and we were on a tight deadline because the photographer wanted to get the shot at just the right time. We have two schools adjacent to the museum: the Stax Music Academy and the Soulsville Charter School. I had instructed the schools to tell the kids not to rush over and surround Isaac and ask for autographs as they usually did, because our schedule was so tight. So all the kids hung back and pretended not to pay attention to him. Isaac kept looking over at them and then looking back at me and it finally hit me: He was a little upset. I told him, “Isaac, the reason the kids are not running over here to see you is because I asked them not to because of the timing of the shoot.” He chuckled with that deep voice and sighed in relief and said, “Man, I’m glad you told me that. I was worried!” That was Isaac. He never talked about his fame, his accomplishments, or anything like that. He just wanted to be nice to the kids. He loved them and they loved him. And that is an Isaac for whom I really doubt God or anyone else has anything close to a feeling of hate.

Categories
Music Music Features

Remembering “Black Moses”

Memphis music lost one of its giants this week with the passing of Isaac Hayes, who died at his home Sunday at age 65.

A Manassas High School graduate who went on to become a central figure at Stax both as a songwriter and session player in the 1960s and then as a monumentally successful solo artist in the ’70s, Hayes’ larger-than-life public image and variety of cultural achievements might be eclipsed in the annals of Memphis music only by Elvis Presley.

When Hayes made the transition from behind-the-scenes genius to superstar, he became as much a style icon as a musical one. He embodied that decade’s changes in black culture — the transition from blues and soul to funk and disco — like perhaps no other musician. The ambition and flamboyance of his music and persona — the eye-popping wardrobe, shaved head, and omnipresent sunglasses — made him one of the era’s signature figures.

My personal interactions with Hayes were minor. As a critic, I grieve for how little his pre-’70s work is understood and acknowledged. While Hayes’ solo material in the ’70s had considerable peaks — his slow deconstruction of “Walk on By,” the clattering funk chaos of the galvanic “Hyperbolicsyllabicsesquedalymistic” (sampled brilliantly on Public Enemy’s “Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos”), and, of course, his swaggering “Theme From Shaft” — I suspect that his perfect partnership with fellow Stax staffer David Porter may have been his greatest purely musical gift to the planet.

Together, Hayes and Porter wrote some 200 songs, among them the Sam & Dave classics “Soul Man” and “Hold On, I’m Comin’.” In Hayes’ Associated Press obituary, this prolific work received about half as much ink as Hayes’ late-life performances on the animated television series South Park.

There was considerable art behind Hayes’ compelling image, much of it created before many music fans even knew his name. As time goes on, his legend is unlikely to waver. Hopefully, the depth of his work will be remembered as well.

— Chris Herrington

The best thing in the world

Getting to see Isaac Hayes’ career skyrocket always has been a cherished childhood memory for many kids like me, who grew up in South Memphis. He was our attainable icon, a living, breathing example of life’s possibilities.

I was a bit luckier than most. My mother worked in a beauty shop called Ethel’s, which was on the same block as Stax. There was Jack’s grocery store, the beauty shop, Stax Recording, and the Satellite record shop all lined up, making one safe, beautiful world for the kids in the neighborhood.

Back then, Isaac was just one of the many guys filtering through, trying to meet one of the ladies getting pretty or bumming change to get a hot dog at the Satellite Cafe.

One day, Isaac’s writing partner, David Porter, came in and grabbed a couple of customers, my sister Carolyn among them, to come and sing on a record they were making. The song was the Bar Kays hit “Soulfinger.”

Not long after, Stax bought out the whole block. Miss Ethel moved her shop to Glenview, so Mom and her best friend bought their own shop across the street at McLemore and College.

A lot of the Stax guys still came in and got their hair done, bringing over new records and sometimes even tickets to shows. And then the coolest thing in the world happened: Isaac released the album Hot Buttered Soul and became a superstar. Then he wrote the soundtrack for the movie Shaft and won an Academy Award!

Right after that, he bought his gold Cadillac Eldorado. But even after becoming the biggest thing in Memphis since Elvis, Hayes bought a house in

Longview Heights at Frank and Lauderdale streets. Even cooler for us kids, he kept about half a dozen of the latest cars parked on the street in front, and we’d see them every morning on the way to school.

After school, it was a regular deal to see him in his yard playing with his kids or throwing the football around with some of the older fellas — while dressed in rainbow pants, leather outfits, and monkey-fur boots. It was the best thing in the world. And seeing him on such a regular basis in our neighborhood let us know that whatever we dreamed of, we could achieve.

Godspeed, Mr. Hayes. We’ll miss you. And thanks. — Tony Jones

Tony Jones is a local writer and occasional contributor to the Flyer.

Talkin’ ’bout — and listening to — Isaac

Hustle & Flow had long since wrapped its principle photography and was well into the editing process. We were about to lock the picture when Isaac Hayes came into the studio to record additional dialogue. It was the longest stretch of time I was able to really talk with him about growing up in Memphis. He was delighted to discover that I had been studying the 1968 sanitation strike for a future project. 

“I was at Mason Temple the first time King spoke to the sanitation workers,” he explained. “I was also in that march with King, the one that turned violent.”

Suddenly everyone in the studio went silent. Every technician stopped what they were doing so they could listen to Isaac tell the story. 

“Windows were breaking all around us. Cops started clubbing us. We were all trying to get back into this church, but the doors were locked. A nun was next to me with tears streaming down her face because of the tear gas. Then they sicced the dogs on us. And I was kicking them off of me and the rest of us.”

Isaac is known by many titles. I was privileged to call him a friend. The world knew him as an artist, an actor, and an activist. But whenever I picture him kicking a German shepherd off a blinded nun in the middle of a riot, the only description that pops into my mind is that of one bad mother. . . shut your mouth! 

I’m just talkin’ ’bout Isaac.

— Craig Brewer

Filmmaker Craig Brewer directed Isaac Hayes in Hustle & Flow.

“That brother is bad.”

When I was a child, Isaac Hayes was a favorite of my parents. My daddy used to always say, “That brother is bad.” I knew Isaac as a solo artist, and it wasn’t until I was in my 20s that I came to understand his role as a songwriter and producer.

I was raised on Isaac Hayes. His classic songs were the soundtrack to my childhood and left an imprint on my musical taste. I still have the copy of Hot Buttered Soul that I stole from my mother’s record collection. It’s the record that showed the world that Isaac Hayes was more than a hit songwriter. It revealed him as a superstar.

The first time I met the man, the myth, the legend, I was a bit speechless, a rarity for me. He was gracious, warm-hearted, and responded to my nervous greeting with a smile that said, “Don’t worry about it, little sister.” We crossed paths many times afterward and he always offered a deep, resonant hello that could put anyone at ease.

A few years ago, I had the pleasure of doing publicity for the Memphis opening of Isaac’s Peabody Place restaurant and club. The job was my opportunity to make up for being born a couple of decades too late. Isaac was pleased to see his name in lights, but he was more excited about being surrounded by his friends and family. Over the years, we all saw Isaac’s career in its ups and downs, and he took it all in stride. As other artists were busy reinventing themselves, Isaac Hayes stayed the same, just revealing different sides of himself. After his stroke in 2006, many thought Isaac would never be the same. However, we saw him fighting his way back to health, and he never once lost his cool.

Just weeks ago, I was interviewing producer Terry Manning at a Memphis 

Music Foundation workshop and asked him about recording Isaac’s version of “Walk On By.” Manning reminisced about the magic of that day and the genius of Hayes. Tonight I find myself listening again to Hot Buttered Soul, remembering the music that altered my life. For me and many of my friends, the passing of Isaac Hayes is the most significant loss to Memphis music since the death of Elvis.

— Pat Mitchell Worley

Pat Mitchell Worley is director of development and communications at the Memphis Music Foundation, host of Beale Street Caravan, and an occasional Flyer contributor.

The Deliverer

Though I once co-taught a course at the University of Memphis on the history of rock-and-roll, Isaac Hayes was something of a lacuna for me. I never knew as much about him as I wanted to, nor listened to him as much as I thought (as I knew) I should have. And though I saw him several times around town in recent years, the most visibly affected I ever was by him had been an occasion when he wasn’t even there.

It was in Colorado in 1981, at an off-the-beaten-path tourist attraction, where I saw on display a really elaborate motorcycle billed as Isaac’s — a huge, gilded, chrome-laden thing. It had been acquired by somebody after a bankruptcy of his, I think, and now was a geegaw for strangers to gawk at.
           

That was during a rough spell of my own, and the image of that bike never left me as a symbol of loss. In time, as I learned more about Isaac, it also served as a contrast to the genuine, understated modesty of the man with that monumental mellow voice. I had heard a few songs from Hot Buttered Soul when it first came out in 1969 and was amazed that a man with such timbre at his command would have been content to subordinate himself to other singers for as long as he did.

Part of the answer to that, of course, was that his composing jones was every bit as strong as his need to perform. In fact, it is one of the illustrative ironies of the Stax-Volt era in particular and the nature of music in general that such an anthem of assertion as “Soul Man” should have been co-written by him and David Porter, his frequent partner in songwriting and a man as essentially genial and self-effacing as Hayes himself was.


When you look and sound the way Isaac Hayes did, though, it’s not likely that people will let you hide your light under a bushel. It was inevitable that he would find himself cast — as the title of another classic early album would have it — as a Black Moses.

The most illuminating thing I ever read about Isaac came in a 2001 Q&A conducted with him by my Flyer colleague Chris Herrington. Hayes was asked why so many of the songs written by him and Porter for others sounded so different from the ones he himself sang. Isaac’s answer revealed the man: “The songs that we wrote for other people were things that I couldn’t deliver on as a singer.”

That’s something only a man with genuine soul could say. Isaac Hayes delivered plenty. — Jackson Baker

Categories
Letters To The Editor Opinion

Letters to the Editor

CREDIT: by Roy Cajero

Living Day-to-Day

I was outraged at the sympathy given to illegal aliens by Bianca Phillips (“Living Day-to-Day,” August 7th issue). Illegal aliens and their employers should face the repercussions of the laws they are breaking. What part of “illegal” do people not understand? Yes, life is a constant struggle for those breaking the law and who are on the run from authorities. Hopefully, the difficulties that these illegal aliens are experiencing will discourage them from breaking the law by entering the United States or overstaying their visas.

My good friend and ex-boyfriend is Hispanic. His parents immigrated to the U.S. legally, worked hard, raised three children, and now have grandchildren going to college. The immigrants who come here illegally are a slap in his family’s face, taking their jobs, getting free health care, and not paying taxes on income earned.

I have to laugh at Pablo Davis’ (director of Latino Memphis) statement that “many of these people are leading lawful lives and their only crime is the way they entered the country. Some even entered legally and simply overstayed.” Would that be similar to entering Davis’ residence without his consent and deciding to stay? Would entering a bank during normal operating hours and simply refusing to leave after banking hours be legal? The person would quickly be deported to 201 Poplar.

One of the “victims” Phillips interviews is 20-year-old Gabby Castillo, who moved here with her parents (illegally) when she was 6 years old. She complains that she has to register at college as an international student and pay three times as much and that she does not get any federal money. How many people born here or here legally would like to go to school, get federal money, and further their education? She has the audacity to complain about crushed dreams when people like her parents are taking jobs away from legal immigrants and people born in the U.S.

Yes, the United States is a nation of immigrants — legal immigrants. The United States is also a nation of laws. If we do not abide by those laws, there is anarchy. If you are here illegally, you should be deported.

Harris Coleman

Memphis

Isaac Hayes

Isaac Hayes’ death is a great loss to the Memphis community, as well as to the music world. I live in North Memphis, and I can remember as a child when Hayes lived on Birch Street and would walk to Mrs. Aikers’ store on Jackson Avenue. He was not as famous then as he ended up being, but he was a good neighbor who looked out for the kids on the street.

What a great talent — and a voice that will never be duplicated. Bless the Hayes family and rest in peace, Isaac. You will be missed, and your music will never fade away.

Cathy R. Porter

Memphis

Big Oil

In the year 2000, oil was $22.10 a barrel. President Bush’s conservative friends and Vice President Cheney had a secret meeting with Big Oil executives. Five years later, oil was $55 a barrel and the president was forced to pump from our strategic reserves to try and save his GOP friends in the “do nothing” Congress from election-year defeat.

Now it’s 2008, the last year of the Bush/Cheney rip-off for Big Oil. Exxon just made an $11.6 billion profit — in a single quarter. The GOP and their presidential candidate, John McCain, are repeating the mantra that we need more offshore drilling leases for the oil companies. They fail to mention that by the end of this month, there will be oil company bids on more than 40 million acres of offshore sites in the Gulf of Mexico going unused.

The companies can’t explore what they have now, much less if all our coastlines were leased suddenly for drilling.

The Republicans had the presidency and controlled both branches of Congress for six years without demanding more refineries and drilling from oil companies. Now they say drilling is the only answer. Why didn’t the president start buying oil for the reserve before it hit $110 a barrel? Why did the Republicans want to allow solar tax credits to lapse? Why are they opposed to giving renewable-energy companies tax breaks like the ones they insist on for the oil companies?

Think again about how we got from $22-a-barrel oil to $120-a-barrel oil in eight years. It wasn’t an accident.

Jack Bishop

Cordova

Categories
Music Music Features

Isaac Does Europe

Isaac Hayes is back in town after a successful European summer tour that covered France, Spain, Turkey, and the United Kingdom.

Even steady rain didn’t dampen the enthusasm of fans in Wiltshire, located in southwest England, at the 25-year-old WOMAD Festival founded by Peter Gabriel. Even with a severe weather warning, Memphis’ own Oscar-winner gave the crowd of thousands an “electric” show. As one fan said, “To see someone like Isaac Hayes perform live is awsome, [especially when] he sang ‘Soul Man’ and then ‘Shaft.’ He was superb.'”
To read more go here.

Categories
Music Music Features

Memphis Represents on “15 Great Cover Songs.”

Greg Kot of the Chicago Tribune has written a column on his 15 favorite “cover songs,” and Memphis is well-represented.

Kot cites Elvis’ 1956 cover of Junior Parker’s “Mystery Train” as number one. Also included in the list are Johnny Cash, Aretha Franklin, and Isaac Hayes.

Check out the article here.

Categories
Cover Feature News

Better With Age

CREDIT: Gary Miller

Complaining about Austin’s South By Southwest Music Festival almost seems to be a prerequisite for going there.

Standing outside the gloriously grungy dive bar Beerland Friday night, waiting to see his old Oblivians bandmate Jack Yarber play, ex-Memphian Greg Cartwright, of the Reigning Sound, let loose a hard-to-refute litany: “The clubs, the cabs, the hotels, the airport. Everybody’s getting rich except the musicians.”

Cartwright was in town to support Mary Weiss, the former teen-queen lead singer of the ’60s girl-group the Shangri-Las (“Leader of the Pack”) whose recent comeback album (Dangerous Game) Cartwright produced, wrote most of the songs for, and, alongside his Reigning Sound bandmates, played the music on. But Cartwright made clear he was no great fan of the festival.

What do bands get, if not paid? A shot at stardom, allegedly. A chance to play in front of an audience heavy with industry tastemakers from around the world.

Earlier Friday night, on stage at Buffalo Billiards, Eef Barzelay, of the now-Nashville-based Clem Snide, mocked this function of the festival with acid sarcasm: “Validate me, industry,” Barzelay said, gazing out into the crowd. “Give me the keys to your kingdom, dream weavers.”

These are more than valid perspectives, and the crushing crowds, both lined up at clubs and creating perpetual gridlock in the streets of downtown Austin, had me thinking this third trip to SXSW would probably be my last.

Gary Miller

From left: Isaac Hayes, William Bell, and Eddie Floyd

But then, Saturday afternoon, I somehow found myself standing 15 feet from the stage as hip-hop legend Rakim led a killer 10-piece live band through a riveting hour-and-a-half-long set. Stalking the stage like a hungry shark, Rakim looked and sounded like it was still 1987. Just one man, one mic, and the most dizzyingly precise flow in rap history. Best live hip-hop show I’ve ever seen. Just when I thought I was through with SXSW, it pulls me back in.

The truth is, with 1,500 or so musical acts playing multiple gigs nearly around the clock for four days, there are as many different festivals as there are participants. And though SXSW is ostensibly geared toward breaking new, emerging bands, for this participant and seemingly for many others, the highlights this year came from artists long past their cultural heyday, with Rakim possibly topped by a band of Memphis soul brothers celebrating a 50th anniversary.

Last year, the big Memphis story at SXSW was the showcase debut of local punk/garage-rock label Goner Records. Goner, under the direction of co-founder Eric Friedl, was on the scene again this year, co-sponsoring a Thursday night showcase along with smaller Memphis imprint Shattered Records. But the big Memphis story was also perhaps the story of the festival itself: a concurrent Thursday night showcase celebrating the 50th anniversary of Stax Records.

An artist’s rendering of Isaac Hayes — on hand to “host” the showcase — adorned the cover of The Austin Chronicle‘s Friday daily section. In their showcase review the next day, the Chronicle wrote, “Austin during SXSW 07 may be known for its cutting-edge acts, but on this night, Fifth Street might as well have been McLemore Avenue in 1963 Memphis.”

Gary Miller

Donald ‘Duck’ Dunn and Steve Cropper

The Stax action in Austin got started earlier Thursday, where an afternoon interview session with Stax artists devolved into a free-for-all of fandom and genuflection, a mostly baby-boomer group of reporters and critics armed with albums, CD jackets, and other appropriate canvases for their musical heroes to autograph.

Of course, if anyone in Austin deserved to be worshiped and salivated over, it was these Memphis legends — Hayes, the remaining members of Booker T. & the MGs, Eddie Floyd, and William Bell. And they proved it later that night in a mostly excellent, occasionally thrilling revue-style showcase in celebration at blues warhorse Antone’s.

I showed up at Antone’s more than half an hour before the scheduled 7:30 start time, and the line to get in was already snaking around the block and growing fast. The number of people in line seemed to be about four times club capacity. In three trips to SXSW, I haven’t seen anything quite like it. In fact, I barely got in.

Inside, the Stax crew proved worthy of such attention. Isaac Hayes strode across the stage clad in a red dashiki and sunglasses to offer an introduction: “Tonight is about some very special music. It’s about 50 years of soul music. We’ve come together to celebrate Stax. Can you dig it?”

Chris Herrington

The Reigning Sound and Mary Weiss

And, with that, Booker T. & the MGs took flight, launching into “Melting Pot.” Booker T. Jones set the foundation on organ, childhood friends Steve Cropper and Donald “Duck” Dunn flanked each other on guitar and bass, and modern-era addition Steve Potts kept the beat. There were moments when the quartet lapsed into playing like a very good contemporary blues bar band instead of playing like BOOKER T. & THE MGS, but when Cropper launched the opening riff of “Hip Hug-Her,” you could feel the room levitate, and from then on it was flawless: Cropper lashing out with precision riffs, Dunn crouched down, pushing the music along, Jones leading the band from behind his Hammond, mostly stone-faced but flashing a big toothy grin when “Green Onions” got the whole room dancing. Standing up close, it was hugely entertaining to see all the eye contact and subtle nods that help orchestrate a sound among musicians who have been playing together for 45 years.

After a 40-minute set, the band was joined by original Stax star William Bell, who rivaled Rakim as the most impressive individual performer I saw all week. With a gaggle of Memphis VIPs — including Soulsville matriarch Deanie Parker, Big Star’s Jody Stephens, and Bo-Keys bandleader Scott Bomar — grooving away in the balcony, Bell ripped through a few of his biggest hits. Doing “Never Like This Before,” he sounded like his prime years never ended. But an impassioned reading of his trademark “You Don’t Miss Your Water” was the night’s highlight, Cropper delicately lacing guitar riffs into the title refrain and Jones’ organ lines circling the verses like an ice skater’s figure eights. At the end, even the guy running the soundboard stood up and applauded.

“I don’t get to play with him near enough,” Cropper said, as Bell exited stage left. “He just made my day.”

Bell was followed by Eddie Floyd, who pounded out his classic “Knock On Wood,” among other hits (including Sam & Dave’s “Soul Man”), and Bell and Hayes rejoined the stage for a group reading of Otis Redding’s “(Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay.”

Chris Herrington

Alicja Trout

After braving the long line for the Stax showcase, I headed to the opposite end of club row and was greeted with another reminder of the popularity of Memphis music as a smaller but more frenetic crowd gathered outside the bar Red 7 hoping to get into a Norton Records showcase. The New York-based rock-and-roll label had Memphis’ Sam the Sham (of “Wooly Bully” fame) on the bill, but the real attraction was ex-Memphian Cartwright and his Memphis-born Reigning Sound, who played a typically dazzling solo set and then stayed onstage as the backing band for Weiss.

Cartwright and crew ripped through songs from all three Reigning Sound studio albums and reached back to the Oblivians for Cartwright’s take on the gospel standard “Live the Life.” Though Weiss was the ostensible headliner, outside, waiting to get in (another close call), every person who walked up was asking the same question: “Is this the line for the Reigning Sound?”

It had been a long haul for the band to get to Austin. After playing live on Late Night With Conan O’Brien Tuesday night — Weiss sang perhaps Cartwright’s greatest songwriting achievement, “Stop and Think It Over,” which Cartwright released on the last album from his band the Compulsive Gamblers and which Weiss covers on Dangerous Game — the band had driven to Austin in two days.

After closing their own set, the Reigning Sound took a short break and then came back out to back Weiss who, according to The Austin Chronicle the next day, was playing only her second live show in more than 40 years. The rust was apparent. Weiss used an easel with a folder of laminated song lyrics during the set and was a little rattled by a particularly bright stage light. But her nervousness only enhanced her charm, working her way through a set of songs from Dangerous Game with an easy smile and still-girlish grace.

If Stax, Weiss, and Rakim made my SXSW something of a geezer fest, I apparently wasn’t alone. Veteran artists such as Pete Townshend, a reformed Stooges, a reformed Meat Puppets, Robyn Hitchcock (with R.E.M.’s Peter Buck), and the Buzzcocks (I heard them rattling off “I Don’t Mind” through the chain-link fence of a day party en route to meet up with my wife and immediately regretted not being able to see them play) seemed to be the talk of the festival.

Which doesn’t mean there weren’t plenty of buzzed-about or buzz-worthy younger bands on display. Locally, Goner/Shattered featured Memphians the Boston Chinks and Jay Reatard, while Memphis acts River City Tanlines, Tearjerkers, Harlan T. Bobo, and Viva L’American Death Ray Music had official showcases Friday and Saturday night. On Sunday, local blogger Rachel Hurley curated an unofficial day party for Memphis indie-rock bands.

After leaving Austin last March as the most impressive Memphis act in town, River City Tanlines made a repeat bid at their showcase at Beerland late Friday night. Frontwoman par excellence Alicja Trout was in particularly ferocious form, hair flailing as she staggered through her fierce guitar solos as if they were windstorms threatening to knock her over.

But as splendid a presence as Trout was, comparing the Tanlines Friday night to other loud-fast bands at the festival — including the Reigning Sound — revealed that the band’s true weapon is their rhythm section of bassist Terrence “T-Money” Bishop and drummer John “Bubba” Bonds. Bishop and Bonds kept the Tanlines from descending into pure blaring noise whenever the band dove into hyperspeed. But the duo’s real value came through when the band slowed down a little, especially in the moments when Bishop’s loping, locomotive bass lines acted as the lead instrument. That the Reigning Sound is still the better band is only because Cartwright is a songcraft savant. But I didn’t see a rock band in Austin that motorvates quite like the Tanlines.

Among non-locals, the most buzzed-about new acts this year tended to be British (Lily Allen, Amy Winehouse, the Pipettes, the Young Knives), Scandinavian (Peter, Bjorn, and John) or from New York (Oakley Hall, Earl Greyhound). I sought out Allen and Winehouse, whose current albums (Alright, Still … and Back to Black, respectively) I really like, and I came away impressed at how well each performer holds up live.

Fronting a guitar-free six-piece band (drums, bass, keyboards, trombone, trumpet, sax) that ably fleshed out the hip-hop, reggae, and, most impressively, New Orleans R&B accents on her debut album, Allen displayed the musical smarts and force of personality that make Alright, Still … (released in the U.S. in January) an early album-of-the-year candidate.

Her seven-song set mined Alright, Still … for sardonic British hit singles “LDN” and “Smile” and knockout album tracks such as “Knock ‘Em Out” and “Friday Night.” With her polished, melodic pop songs, smart but conversational lyrics, and Everygirl good looks, Allen would seem to have more American crossover appeal than Brit sensations past. Wednesday proved that she can transform her glorious studio pop into an utterly charming live show.

Like Allen, Winehouse is getting tons of good press for an album that deserves it. Back to Black, released in the U.S. this month, is a classic soul/jazz approximation that hits the mark in every way — vocally, conceptually, and, most impressive, musically.

But, as with Allen, I wasn’t sure if this studio pop could really translate live. Which is why I was happy to catch Winehouse at a day party Friday without her full backing band. Armed with only an acoustic-guitar-wielding sidekick, Winehouse — a frankly scary-looking little thing whose current single opens with the kicker “They tried to make me go to rehab/I said, NO, NO, NO” — stepped to the microphone without Back to the Black‘s genius production to protect her and put those songs across naked, nothing but words, voice, and a bare melody. I left a believer.