Cafe Nine | Music | Arts & Culture
| Andre Williams at Cafe Nine in 2012. Tom Hearn Photo. |
“Man, the world is a big notch less groovy,” a dear friend lamented this week on the passing of soul superstar, Andre Williams. James Brown stunned us. Little Richard electrified us. But few soul men embodied the dapper sex, grease and sleaze as Zephire Andre “Mr. Rhythm” Williams.
Born in 1936, Williams began his musical career at Detroit's Fortune Records in the 1950s by making friends with the owners. An Alabama transplant, he quickly rose to Motown prominence, working with artists that included "Mary Wells, The Temptations, Little Stevie Wonder, The Dramatics, Alvin Cash, The Five Du-Tones, John Sayles, Sir Mack Rice and many more,” according to fellow DJ Dave the Spazz.
Every scene needs it: Andre was the secret sticky-sticky of Detroit soul, the gadfly instigating in the shadows. His role as co-author of the Five Du-Tones “Shake A Tailfeather” alone places him in the highest ranks of Shake ‘N’ Vibrate Allstars. If you are ever feeling down, it’s impossible to suppress a smile and a hip-shake hearing the unbridled joy booming through the primitive recording equipment of 1963.
Listen to the breaking vocal and drum distortion—there’s just too much electricity to contain. There have been many a night where I’ve played “Shake A Tailfeather” 20 times in a row, conjuring images of men twirling and gyrating about a small, dingy Detroit studio, placing and shaking tail feathers, taking turns screaming through the mic, getting high off some substances and high off one another, and transcending the banal bull of this world. Andre also wrote “Twine Time” “Funky Judge” and “Mojo Hannah."
Like any great rocker, Andre swept up the style, noises and syntax of the street and whipped it back into tunes startling and new. “Jailbait” “Bacon Fat,” “The Greasy Chicken,” “Rib Tips,” “Bassology,” and countless other wild sides are truly something to behold.
Andre operated on the fringes of culture and seemed to prefer it that way. He rose from a life of hard knocks in the housing projects of Alabama, escaping to Detroit and a life of show business at 16.
In a life of high-highs and low-lows, Andre fell on bouts of homelessness and addiction. But soul is the music of transcendence. Proof to Williams' staying power, his compositions have been covered by an array of artists including Doug Sahm, the Cramps, Ray Charles and Ike & Tina Turner.
When asked how he stayed so young, so vital as time marched on in Tricia Todd and Eric Matthies’ brilliant Agile, Mobile & Hostile (2008) documentary, Williams remarked something to the effect of “Whole lotta sex. I dunno, otherwise I’d have to eat a lot of tomatoes or something.”
At 82, Williams had surely lived through 12 of his nine lives. What makes his passing so sad is that into his elder years he set the twilight reeling—continuing to create, collaborate and risk. Andre recorded with modern garage heroes The Dirtbombs, Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, Green Hornet, and the country-twanged Sadies. A dedicated cult base propped the musician back to reverence.
He also returned to the small clubs that made him a recording star at Fortune Records in his teens. One such night landed at Cafe Nine in December 2012. Fran Fried emceed, Barrence Whitfield & the Savages and Bronson Rock opened. Andre leapt on the stage donning a vibrant pink psychedelic smoking jacket that I’ve yet to see the likes of from vintage racks New Haven to LA.
Some older women had come out to unwind. Never underestimate the power of song. Williams' rendition of “Let Me Put It In” definitely sent one to orgasm.
After too much fun and libations, I drunkenly stumbled into Williams. “Oh man, thank you for ‘Shake A Tailfeather.’ Thank you for ‘Jailbait.’ Thank you for ‘Bacon Fat.’ Thank you for ‘Pass the Biscuits Please,'” I said.
As I came up for air going song-by-song, Mr. Rhythm did not miss a beat. In a perfectly balanced, dismissive-but-appreciative tone he said, “You are what I call a number one fan!” He shook my hand, tipped his hat, and disappeared into the shadows of the street.
Good night sweet prince. There will never be another you.
This is the latest installment on Shake 'N’ Vibrate, a monthly vinyl series at Cafe Nine led by musician, DJ, and filmmaker Brendan Toller. To get the full taste of Shake N’ Vibrate, New Haveners still have to go to the events themselves. But here, readers can get a glimpse—or a listen—into some of what they’re in for. The next Shake N' Vibrate is scheduled for Sunday, March 25 at 8 p.m. For more information on the event, click here.