The first biography of soul pioneer Isaac Hayes, whose groundbreaking music provided the foundation for hip-hop and a new racial paradigm.
Within the stoned soul picnic of Black music icons in the â60s and â70s, only one could bill himself without a blush as Moses, demanding liberation for Black men with his notions of life and selfâIsaac Lee Hayes Jr., the beautifully sheen, shaded, and chain-spangled acolyte of cool, whose high-toned âlounge musicâ and proto-rap was soulâs highest orderâheard on twenty-two albums and selling millions of records. Hayesâs stunning self-portraits, his obsessive pleas about love, sex, and guilt bathed in lush orchestral flights and soul-stirring bass lines, drove other soul men like Barry White to libidinous license. But Hayes, who called himself a ârenegade,â was a man of many parts. While he thrived on soulful remakes of pop standards, his biggest coup was writing and producing the epic soundtrack to Shaft, memorializing the âblack private dickâ as a âcomplicated man,â as coolly mean and amoral as any white private eye.
This new musical and cultural coda delivered Hayes the first Oscar ever won by a Black musician, as well as the Grammy for Best Song. Yet, few know Hayesâs remarkable achievements. In this compelling buffet of sight and sound, acclaimed music biographer Mark Ribowskyâwho has authored illuminating portraits of such luminaries as Stevie Wonder, Little Richard, and Otis Reddingâgallops through the many stages of Hayesâs daring and daunting life, starting with Hayesâs difficult childhood in which his mother died young and his father abandoned him. Ribowsky then takes readers through Hayesâs rise at Memphisâs legendary soul factory, Stax Records, first as a piano player on Otis Redding sessions then as a songwriter and producer teamed with David Porter. Tuned to the context of soul music history, he created crossover smashes like Sam Daveâs âSoul Man,â âHold on Iâm Cominâ,â and âI Thank You,â making soul a semi-religion of Black pride, imagination, and joyful emotion.
Hayesâs subsequent career as a solo artist featured studio methods and out-of-the-box ideas that paved the way for soul to occupy the top of the album charts alongside white rock albums. But his prime years ended prematurely, both as a consequence of Staxâs red ink and his own self-destructive tendencies. In the â90s he claimed he had finally found himself, as a minion of Scientology. But Scientology would cost him the gig that had revived himâthe cartoon voice of the naively cool âChefâ on South Parkâafter he became embroiled in controversy when South Parkâs creators parodied Scientology in an episode that caused the cultâs leaders to order him to quit the show. Although Hayes was honored by the Rock Roll Hall of Fame in 2002, the brouhaha came as his seemingly perfect body finally broke down. He died in 2008 at age sixty-eight, too soon for a soul titan. But if only greatness can establish permanence in the cellular structure of music, Isaac Hayes long ago qualified. His influence will last for as long as there is music to be heard. And when we hear him in that music, we will by rote say, âWe can dig it.â