The Judgement
The Judgement
Am I correct in assuming that this song is the same one that Solomon Burke recorded for Don't Give Up On Me? If it is, did Cait co-write any others on the new album?
It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think that you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt
- M. Twain
- M. Twain
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Otis Westinghouse
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Re: The Judgement
From Uncut ( Sept .08)
Solomon Burke comments -
Solomon Burke comments -
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sweetest punch
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Re: The Judgement
http://www.cnn.com/2010/SHOWBIZ/Music/1 ... ke/?hpt=T2
Soul singer Solomon Burke dead at 70
Soul singer Solomon Burke has died at the age of 70 in the Netherlands, his Dutch representative said Sunday.
Hailed by Atlantic Records producer Jerry Wexler as "the greatest soul singer of all time," Burke was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2001.
Burke joined the Atlantic Records stable in 1960, putting him in the company of Ray Charles, Ben E. King and Wilson Pickett.
His first hit with them came almost immediately, with "Cry to Me."
He had top R&B hits in 1965 with "Got to Get You Off of My Mind," and "Tonight's the Night," the rock museum says in Burke's biography.
He continued to tour until his death, and was scheduled to perform Tuesday in Amsterdam, the Netherlands.
Soul singer Solomon Burke dead at 70
Soul singer Solomon Burke has died at the age of 70 in the Netherlands, his Dutch representative said Sunday.
Hailed by Atlantic Records producer Jerry Wexler as "the greatest soul singer of all time," Burke was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2001.
Burke joined the Atlantic Records stable in 1960, putting him in the company of Ray Charles, Ben E. King and Wilson Pickett.
His first hit with them came almost immediately, with "Cry to Me."
He had top R&B hits in 1965 with "Got to Get You Off of My Mind," and "Tonight's the Night," the rock museum says in Burke's biography.
He continued to tour until his death, and was scheduled to perform Tuesday in Amsterdam, the Netherlands.
Since you put me down, it seems i've been very gloomy. You may laugh but pretty girls look right through me.
Re: The Judgement
http://www.ascap.com/eventsawards/award ... hotos.html
http://www.nyrock.com/reviews/2002/ovsms.asp
http://www.elvis-costello.net/articles/ ... ne2002.php
Mojo , June '02
(extract)
Meanwhile, Elvis Costello arrives at the studio- just in time to hear Burke and the band working their way through his Dan Penn- modelled ballad The Judgement. The song’s quirky structure is proving problematic. As a palpable sense of frustration builds, Costello notices that Burke “phrases much later than I do, so those holes created by the extra bar in there is are much larger. D’ya mind if I go in there and sing it?”
And so he does, with the band falling perfectly into place behind him. “Now that’s a good track!” Solomon enthuses. “I can sing that!” And so he does, brilliantly. Don’t worry, it will be with you soon.
http://www.chrisbourke.co.nz/main.php?id=kingsolomon
Real Groove (New Zealand), July 2002.
(extract)
Solomon thanks the Lord, with good reason. “I’m so proud I was chosen to make this record,” he says, but the feeling was shared. Elvis Costello wasn’t satisfied with just posting in his apocalyptic art ballad ‘The Judgment’, he had to drop by the session. “He didn’t say anything to the engineers, he just came into the studio where I was and said, ‘Hi, I’m Elvis’. Everyone else was running round saying ‘Elvis is here! Elvis is here!’ I thought, these people have cracked up. I thought maybe they were seeing a reincarnation of Elvis Presley. Then with that great accent of his, he says, ‘Hi my name is Elvis Costello – did you do my song yet?’ ”
Solomon hadn’t even heard it – “For a minute it was, hold it, the guy might take the song back” – but Costello sat down and sang it for him. “I’m sitting there getting a free concert from Elvis Costello. I’m thinking, give me a camera, someone take a picture quick.” Costello described how he’d written it: with his wife, he’d taken a line from Burke’s ‘The Price’, from 1964. He said, “It’s our favourite song – ‘where the price ends, the judgment begins’. And bam! It was, Give me the song!”
http://www.nyrock.com/reviews/2002/ovsms.asp
http://www.elvis-costello.net/articles/ ... ne2002.php
Mojo , June '02
(extract)
Meanwhile, Elvis Costello arrives at the studio- just in time to hear Burke and the band working their way through his Dan Penn- modelled ballad The Judgement. The song’s quirky structure is proving problematic. As a palpable sense of frustration builds, Costello notices that Burke “phrases much later than I do, so those holes created by the extra bar in there is are much larger. D’ya mind if I go in there and sing it?”
And so he does, with the band falling perfectly into place behind him. “Now that’s a good track!” Solomon enthuses. “I can sing that!” And so he does, brilliantly. Don’t worry, it will be with you soon.
http://www.chrisbourke.co.nz/main.php?id=kingsolomon
Real Groove (New Zealand), July 2002.
(extract)
Solomon thanks the Lord, with good reason. “I’m so proud I was chosen to make this record,” he says, but the feeling was shared. Elvis Costello wasn’t satisfied with just posting in his apocalyptic art ballad ‘The Judgment’, he had to drop by the session. “He didn’t say anything to the engineers, he just came into the studio where I was and said, ‘Hi, I’m Elvis’. Everyone else was running round saying ‘Elvis is here! Elvis is here!’ I thought, these people have cracked up. I thought maybe they were seeing a reincarnation of Elvis Presley. Then with that great accent of his, he says, ‘Hi my name is Elvis Costello – did you do my song yet?’ ”
Solomon hadn’t even heard it – “For a minute it was, hold it, the guy might take the song back” – but Costello sat down and sang it for him. “I’m sitting there getting a free concert from Elvis Costello. I’m thinking, give me a camera, someone take a picture quick.” Costello described how he’d written it: with his wife, he’d taken a line from Burke’s ‘The Price’, from 1964. He said, “It’s our favourite song – ‘where the price ends, the judgment begins’. And bam! It was, Give me the song!”
Last edited by johnfoyle on Sun Oct 10, 2010 6:45 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Jack of All Parades
- Posts: 5716
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Re: The Judgement
Saddened at hearing this news. Over many years had learned to love his impassioned, intelligent and distinctive takes on songs. Really enjoyed his recent albums "Nashville" and Don't Give Up on Me". Dying on the road like that; at least he was doing what he loved to do.
"....there's a merry song that starts in 'I' and ends in 'You', as many famous pop songs do....'
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And No Coffee Table
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Re: The Judgement
http://www.ew.com/ew/article/0,,237230_2,00.html
Entertainment Weekly, May 17, 2002
Entertainment Weekly, May 17, 2002
Costello pulls the car up outside the Sunset Sound Factory studio in Hollywood, where 65-year-old Solomon Burke is cutting an album. Producer Joe Henry has a surprise for Costello: Tonight they're about to record "The Judgment," a ballad that Costello and his wife, ex-Pogue Cait O'Riordan, recently wrote for the soul great.
"The king is here!" shouts Burke, a bear of a man in a suit so formal you'd think he was headed to Davis' big party. Costello will play both acolyte and teacher tonight. Burke and his band are being thrown off a bit by some dramatic pauses Costello built into the ballad. Self-conscious of how difficult it's been for other singers to wrap themselves around his wordiness, Costello intended to give the lyric some extra breathing room, but somehow managed to make it even trickier. "Here's where I f--- everybody up with my extra half a bar," he apologizes, out of Burke's earshot, then offers the elder singer a mea culpa: "Those extra beats that are in the demo are just me waiting to remember what the next chord is." Eventually, everyone decides to try cutting the pauses out, and Costello records a new guide vocal for Burke to practice with. He's struck by a fit of irony, hearing one of the guys who helped invent rock singing as we now know it wailing along with his voice in the other room. "Do you suppose this is what Mick Jagger did with Solomon's records?" he laughs.
Several hours later, the song is nailed. "You didn't know you were coming here to produce a record, did you?" exults Burke, an ordained minister. "God knew it!"
The agnostic Costello doesn't beg to differ as good-nights are exchanged.
Re: The Judgement
johnfoyle wrote:From Uncut ( Sept .08)
Solomon Burke comments -
Man, what generous words for EC's talent. Love it. RIP SB
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And No Coffee Table
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Re: The Judgement
http://www.elviscostello.com/news/please-mr-postman/78
Please Mr. Postman
I never quite got over finding a note from Solomon Burke in my morning mail. It was electronic mail at that. But this was no hoax, here were good wishes on the occasion of birth of my twin boys from a man who had seemed, until quite recently, like an unattainable name on a record jacket.
We first met in 2002, during the sessions for the “Don’t Give Up On Me” album, for which I had written a song called “The Judgment”.
I’d expected only to be a witness at the studio but one peculiar phrase in the song seemed to be tripping everyone up, so the producer, Joe Henry, called me to the microphone to illustrate how vocal line was supposed to fall.
I’ll let you imagine how intimidating it was to “illustrate” singing to Solomon Burke with him sitting three feet away in the vocal booth.
Solomon soon made the song his very own. His enthusiasm and his dreams were expansive. By the end of the evening, he was hatching a plan to book the Royal Albert Hall and stage “The Judgment” as an opera.
And so it was that we became occasional correspondents.
His notes always arrived out of the blue, filled with love and kindness and questions about our young sons, to whom he appointed himself an honorary uncle, one of the lesser known titles that he wore, along with the “King of Rock and Soul”.
Then the subject of love and children were things on which he spoke with considerable authority.
When I first heard one of his indelible Atlantic sides on a compilation album many years ago, I could not have imagined ever meeting such a man. Photographs revealed an outlandish presence in ermine-trimmed robes and crown, while his records were dominated by a staggeringly beautiful voice.
It is true that after a while he was not always best served by writers and producers and could drift from public view but then advocates like the writer, Peter Guralnick were able to portray the greater complexities of his character; the anarchic humour in his showmanship and his still untapped musical promise.
Solomon would therefore be “re-discovered” on several occasions although he’d never been lost in the first place.
He astounded those who had never heard him before with a command over the audience that drew on his experience in the ministry. Regardless of the material, sheer beauty of his voice could be quite overwhelming.
I will not pretend to have known anything unique about Solomon other than that which is obvious to ears and eyes but feel blessed to have known him at all.
His last dispatch was just this summer. I found myself closing a European tour at a jazz festival outside Lisbon, the night before Solomon was appearing and was disappointed that I would his miss show.
Then a note arrived. Solomon was looking for me. I called the number provided and we talked for good while. These are notes that I’m going to miss and words that I will always remember.
In the last days, I’ve located the picture of us backstage on the one occasion I found myself on a bill with Solomon Burke. In fact it turned out to be like something that happens only in a dream.
The night was a salute to Sam Cooke organized by the Roll And Roll Hall Of Fame in Cleveland. Among the people on the bill were William Bell, The Manhattans, Cissy Houston and my old pal Peter Wolf. I was handed the unenviable task of performing between Solomon and Aretha Franklin.
I speculated that the organizers wanted to avoid the possibility of any old rivalries. Nevertheless, when I was shown the running order my blood ran cold.
“I have to follow Solomon Burke? Are you drunk?”
When the moment of truth arrived, Solomon sat, resplendent on his throne. He spoke about his friendship with Sam Cooke and how he had handed a torch to Solomon…
“And tonight, I am handing it to my son!”
The vocal was very ably delivered but Solomon didn’t utter another sound. He was making all manner of dramatic gestures in the background but not singing one note. I wondered if he might have a cold or some other reason for holding back but at that moment it felt like a bullet dodged.
I’d chosen two lesser-known songs from the Sam Cooke catalogue, reasoning that I had a better chance of not making a fool of myself, if fewer people had Sam’s voice in their head.
The producers then prevailed on me also perform, “Bring It On Home” but as this was in two-part harmony with Otis Clay, I knew together we could set the scene for the Queen Of Soul without too much disgrace.
Aretha passed over “You Send Me” and that other Sam Cooke classics she had covered for her short set but sang very beautifully. It was only during her last scheduled number of the evening that the entire bill was summoned backstage for participation in an unrehearsed finale.
As Aretha’s ovation subsided and she returned to her dressing room, Solomon was once again revealed and the band stuck up “A Change Is Gonna Come”
This time he did sing.
Flawlessly.
The cast assembled in the wings and a plan quickly hatched that we would join Solomon in the final choruses. Otis Clay and I happened to be wearing matching evening dress, so were detailed to lead the impromptu procession.
We had no sooner been given the signal to enter than strong hands yanked us back into the shadows by collar of our tuxedo jackets.
Somebody said, “Look!”
Aretha had apparently heard the finale start up and wasn’t going to let anyone else steal the show. She sailed out from the wings along the lip of the stage, without her shoes, Peter Wolf acting as her trainbearer and suddenly the two finest singers of their generation were trading lines on “A Change Is Gonna Come”
A tap on the shoulder came again. It was our cue to join the fray.
A voice said, “Are you crazy? I’m not going out there”.
It might have been me.
It might have been any of us.
I don’t know how many times Aretha and Solomon sang round the song before we were eventually pushed out into the spotlight.
By this time, Aretha was really wailing and Solomon had tears rolling down his cheeks, declaiming, “Bring the boys home” like a preacher, reworking the song as plea for sanity during the never-ending war.
Unlike so many things today, none of these scenes seem to have been caught on camera. They live in the memories of those present.
Like the great performances that Solomon gave, when the eyes of the larger audiences were turned elsewhere and the songs that he recorded that are still to be re-discovered, they are, in the words of his first big hit, “Just Out Of Reach”.
Perhaps some mysteries just work out that way but here’s a little backstage memento from that night; Solomon, Wolf and I sending birthday greetings to a mutual friend.
Please Mr. Postman
I never quite got over finding a note from Solomon Burke in my morning mail. It was electronic mail at that. But this was no hoax, here were good wishes on the occasion of birth of my twin boys from a man who had seemed, until quite recently, like an unattainable name on a record jacket.
We first met in 2002, during the sessions for the “Don’t Give Up On Me” album, for which I had written a song called “The Judgment”.
I’d expected only to be a witness at the studio but one peculiar phrase in the song seemed to be tripping everyone up, so the producer, Joe Henry, called me to the microphone to illustrate how vocal line was supposed to fall.
I’ll let you imagine how intimidating it was to “illustrate” singing to Solomon Burke with him sitting three feet away in the vocal booth.
Solomon soon made the song his very own. His enthusiasm and his dreams were expansive. By the end of the evening, he was hatching a plan to book the Royal Albert Hall and stage “The Judgment” as an opera.
And so it was that we became occasional correspondents.
His notes always arrived out of the blue, filled with love and kindness and questions about our young sons, to whom he appointed himself an honorary uncle, one of the lesser known titles that he wore, along with the “King of Rock and Soul”.
Then the subject of love and children were things on which he spoke with considerable authority.
When I first heard one of his indelible Atlantic sides on a compilation album many years ago, I could not have imagined ever meeting such a man. Photographs revealed an outlandish presence in ermine-trimmed robes and crown, while his records were dominated by a staggeringly beautiful voice.
It is true that after a while he was not always best served by writers and producers and could drift from public view but then advocates like the writer, Peter Guralnick were able to portray the greater complexities of his character; the anarchic humour in his showmanship and his still untapped musical promise.
Solomon would therefore be “re-discovered” on several occasions although he’d never been lost in the first place.
He astounded those who had never heard him before with a command over the audience that drew on his experience in the ministry. Regardless of the material, sheer beauty of his voice could be quite overwhelming.
I will not pretend to have known anything unique about Solomon other than that which is obvious to ears and eyes but feel blessed to have known him at all.
His last dispatch was just this summer. I found myself closing a European tour at a jazz festival outside Lisbon, the night before Solomon was appearing and was disappointed that I would his miss show.
Then a note arrived. Solomon was looking for me. I called the number provided and we talked for good while. These are notes that I’m going to miss and words that I will always remember.
In the last days, I’ve located the picture of us backstage on the one occasion I found myself on a bill with Solomon Burke. In fact it turned out to be like something that happens only in a dream.
The night was a salute to Sam Cooke organized by the Roll And Roll Hall Of Fame in Cleveland. Among the people on the bill were William Bell, The Manhattans, Cissy Houston and my old pal Peter Wolf. I was handed the unenviable task of performing between Solomon and Aretha Franklin.
I speculated that the organizers wanted to avoid the possibility of any old rivalries. Nevertheless, when I was shown the running order my blood ran cold.
“I have to follow Solomon Burke? Are you drunk?”
When the moment of truth arrived, Solomon sat, resplendent on his throne. He spoke about his friendship with Sam Cooke and how he had handed a torch to Solomon…
“And tonight, I am handing it to my son!”
The vocal was very ably delivered but Solomon didn’t utter another sound. He was making all manner of dramatic gestures in the background but not singing one note. I wondered if he might have a cold or some other reason for holding back but at that moment it felt like a bullet dodged.
I’d chosen two lesser-known songs from the Sam Cooke catalogue, reasoning that I had a better chance of not making a fool of myself, if fewer people had Sam’s voice in their head.
The producers then prevailed on me also perform, “Bring It On Home” but as this was in two-part harmony with Otis Clay, I knew together we could set the scene for the Queen Of Soul without too much disgrace.
Aretha passed over “You Send Me” and that other Sam Cooke classics she had covered for her short set but sang very beautifully. It was only during her last scheduled number of the evening that the entire bill was summoned backstage for participation in an unrehearsed finale.
As Aretha’s ovation subsided and she returned to her dressing room, Solomon was once again revealed and the band stuck up “A Change Is Gonna Come”
This time he did sing.
Flawlessly.
The cast assembled in the wings and a plan quickly hatched that we would join Solomon in the final choruses. Otis Clay and I happened to be wearing matching evening dress, so were detailed to lead the impromptu procession.
We had no sooner been given the signal to enter than strong hands yanked us back into the shadows by collar of our tuxedo jackets.
Somebody said, “Look!”
Aretha had apparently heard the finale start up and wasn’t going to let anyone else steal the show. She sailed out from the wings along the lip of the stage, without her shoes, Peter Wolf acting as her trainbearer and suddenly the two finest singers of their generation were trading lines on “A Change Is Gonna Come”
A tap on the shoulder came again. It was our cue to join the fray.
A voice said, “Are you crazy? I’m not going out there”.
It might have been me.
It might have been any of us.
I don’t know how many times Aretha and Solomon sang round the song before we were eventually pushed out into the spotlight.
By this time, Aretha was really wailing and Solomon had tears rolling down his cheeks, declaiming, “Bring the boys home” like a preacher, reworking the song as plea for sanity during the never-ending war.
Unlike so many things today, none of these scenes seem to have been caught on camera. They live in the memories of those present.
Like the great performances that Solomon gave, when the eyes of the larger audiences were turned elsewhere and the songs that he recorded that are still to be re-discovered, they are, in the words of his first big hit, “Just Out Of Reach”.
Perhaps some mysteries just work out that way but here’s a little backstage memento from that night; Solomon, Wolf and I sending birthday greetings to a mutual friend.
Re: The Judgement
This is a bit off-topic, but how did EC and Peter Wolf become such good friends? Seems like an odd pairing....
Re: The Judgement
that was my thought too......wordnat wrote:This is a bit off-topic, but how did EC and Peter Wolf become such good friends? Seems like an odd pairing....
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EarlManchester
- Posts: 175
- Joined: Sun Jun 08, 2003 6:41 pm
- Location: In the liberated territories
Re: The Judgement
Probably on that 1978 pub crawl chronicled by photographer Roberta Bayley in SPIN magazine, November 1986:wordnat wrote:...how did EC and Peter Wolf become such good friends?
- ELVIS AT CBGB's
The picture used for publicity for the Armed Forces tour was taken at CBGB's. Richard Hell and the Voidoids were playing a benefit for St. Mark's Church. I think it was a poetry benefit. Elvis went up and did about three songs with Richard: a couple of Richard's songs and "Shattered ' by the Rolling Stones. Richard read the lyrics off a piece of paper. No one expected Elvis Costello to be at CBGB's.
Afterwards, Elvis, Richard, Sylvia Morales (who now is married to Lou Reed), and I left CBGB's and walked back across St. Mark's Place. Peter Wolf was waiting on the block, in a particularly crazed mood. He was with his friend Jim Donnelly, a 6' 4" Irishman, and they had a car.
We went to the Centre Pub. It was already pretty late, but it was also the day that they turn the clocks back for daylight savings time, so the bar was actually closing at five AM instead of four. Wolf just kept ordering drinks. He'd order one round and then immediately order another before anyone had time to even have a sip of their first. So we're all sitting there with three or four beers in front of us, but nobody's even had a drink.
All of a sudden it's five in the morning, and the bartender says we have to leave. We took our beers with us and decided to find the Kiwi Club, an infamous after-hours place between Avenues B and C. A real sleazy place, not a trendy after-hours club by any means. Everyone in there looked like they were carrying weapons. Sylvia and I were the only women there. Wolf ended up getting in a fight with some guy who was trying to talk to me. Suddenly it's "OK, let's go outside and settle this." I was just thinking, "Oh, no: 'J. Geils Singer Never Seen Again.'" Luckily, Jim Donnelly convinced us it was time to leave.
All this time Elvis was leaning on the bar, looking a little... pale. Richard had gotten bored pretty early and left. He saw these things every night; he didn't get easily excited. But Elvis, he's observing all this, taking notes in his head. I got the feeling that everything that happened, everything he saw, he'd turn into a song.
We finally got into the convertible and drove up First Avenue at about 75 miles an hour, going through every red light. Jim Donnelly's foot never left the accelerator. He had a Jimi Hendrix tape on the tape deck, piaying "Purple Haze" at full volume and screaming "JIMI" very loud as we drove up First Avenue.
- ELVIS AT CBGB's
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docinwestchester
- Posts: 2321
- Joined: Thu Apr 08, 2010 7:58 pm
- Location: Westchester County, NY
Re: The Judgement
That story is insane! They sound like a gang of suburban teenagers taking NYC by storm. Avenue C in the middle of the night in 1978 was definitely a scary place to be. Good times...The picture used for publicity for the Armed Forces tour was taken at CBGB's. Richard Hell and the Voidoids were playing a benefit for St. Mark's Church. I think it was a poetry benefit. Elvis went up and did about three songs with Richard: a couple of Richard's songs and "Shattered ' by the Rolling Stones. Richard read the lyrics off a piece of paper. No one expected Elvis Costello to be at CBGB's.
Afterwards, Elvis, Richard, Sylvia Morales (who now is married to Lou Reed), and I left CBGB's and walked back across St. Mark's Place. Peter Wolf was waiting on the block, in a particularly crazed mood. He was with his friend Jim Donnelly, a 6' 4" Irishman, and they had a car.
We went to the Centre Pub. It was already pretty late, but it was also the day that they turn the clocks back for daylight savings time, so the bar was actually closing at five AM instead of four. Wolf just kept ordering drinks. He'd order one round and then immediately order another before anyone had time to even have a sip of their first. So we're all sitting there with three or four beers in front of us, but nobody's even had a drink.
All of a sudden it's five in the morning, and the bartender says we have to leave. We took our beers with us and decided to find the Kiwi Club, an infamous after-hours place between Avenues B and C. A real sleazy place, not a trendy after-hours club by any means. Everyone in there looked like they were carrying weapons. Sylvia and I were the only women there. Wolf ended up getting in a fight with some guy who was trying to talk to me. Suddenly it's "OK, let's go outside and settle this." I was just thinking, "Oh, no: 'J. Geils Singer Never Seen Again.'" Luckily, Jim Donnelly convinced us it was time to leave.
All this time Elvis was leaning on the bar, looking a little... pale. Richard had gotten bored pretty early and left. He saw these things every night; he didn't get easily excited. But Elvis, he's observing all this, taking notes in his head. I got the feeling that everything that happened, everything he saw, he'd turn into a song.
We finally got into the convertible and drove up First Avenue at about 75 miles an hour, going through every red light. Jim Donnelly's foot never left the accelerator. He had a Jimi Hendrix tape on the tape deck, piaying "Purple Haze" at full volume and screaming "JIMI" very loud as we drove up First Avenue.