This article originally appeared in Uncut Take 331 (November 2024)
“You might wanna write this,” says Steve Cropper, handily summarising his myriad musical achievements. “There’s only three people in history that are in all three halls of fame – the rock’n’roll hall of fame, the musicians’ hall of fame and the songwriters’ hall of fame: Keith Richards, Roy Orbison and Steve Cropper. Pretty good company!”
On a Zoom call from his Nashville home, Cropper is in ebullient mood, despite a metal plate in his hip that limits his movement. He can no longer go fishing or play golf, but he’s managed to find a way to make a new album called Friendlytown, with a little help from technology and fellow axemen such as Billy Gibbons and Brian May. “I guess I’ll retire next year… I was gonna retire about five years ago and they said, ‘No, don’t!’”
It helps that Cropper’s own Insomnia Studios are only a few minutes’ drive away, in the heart of Music Row. “The whole band was there, it was great. We had more fun than you can shake a stick at. The lead parts were overdubbed by Billy and myself, but most of it was done live. The song ‘Friendlytown’ was his [Billy’s] idea, and it’s a great one.” So is it about Nashville, or some fantasy place? “That’s hard to say – Nashville is a fantasy place!”
The crunch of your guitar on “Green Onions” was like nothing else that had gone before. How did you get that sound? Ben Keane, via email
I think the fact that I was playing it backwards: four-one, four-one. It’s all in the hands. When Booker was asked, ‘How does Cropper get his sound?’ he said, ‘It’s pretty simple – out of his hands!’ But I learned how to do something that nobody did: I learned how to bend two strings equal at the same time with one finger. I figured the world didn’t need another Chet Atkins, didn’t need another Les Paul, didn’t need another BB King, so I became Steve Cropper. My first session, I asked Chips [Moman, Stax producer] ‘What do I do?’ He said, ‘Just play. If they like what they hear, they’ll keep it. If they don’t, they’ll kick you out and never call you back!’ But they kept calling me back, so I guess I did something right.
What was it about Memphis that gave us so much great music in the ’50s, ’60s and ’70s? Something in the water? Clive Beddington, Hull
If I knew what it was, I would bottle it and give it to everybody. But with most of the records we made, you can take the vocals off and still hear the song. Just by the intro and the groove, you can tell what the song is. And the water is different in Memphis. Every time we went out of town, we couldn’t wait to get home to get a drink of water. Artesian water just tastes better.
I’ve been watching the documentary and it suggests that the name The MGs came from an MG car that was spotted driving past the studio during a recording session. Have I been wrong all my life thinking it meant ‘Memphis Group’? Noel Sergeant, via Twitter
Chips had a Triumph, but there was already a band called The Triumphs, so we decided MGs would be good. Years later, an interviewer asked us what MGs really stands for, and Duck [Dunn] blurted out, “Musical Geniuses”! I love Booker to death, he’s the best musician I ever played with. Him and Al Jackson were somethin’ else, what a team they were. Duck and I were lucky to have Al and Booker there all the time, it was amazing. We played in a lot of other bands, but there’ll never be nothin’ like Booker T & The MGs.
Can you tell us what went down at the Lorraine Motel? Sarah Moore, Canterbury
Oh, let’s see: “Midnight Hour”, “Ninety-Nine And A Half”, “Knock On Wood”, “634-5789”… that’s what went down at the Lorraine Motel. Eddie Floyd always checked in to the Lorraine. They’d put us in the honeymoon suite, when it was available. It had the heart-shaped pillows and all of that! That’s where we wrote “634…” And then if you go down one and over one, that’s where “Knock On Wood” was written. We’d pick up the phone and say, ‘What’s for supper tonight?’ And she’d say, ‘Schwimps and chicken’. Schwimps! Every Friday we’d call up just to hear her say that. God bless her, that food was so good.
What was Otis Redding like when you got to know him? Peter Fors, Stockholm
Otis had a million-dollar smile. If you could see Otis a long distance away, by the time he walked over, he was your new best friend. Everybody liked Otis, he was just great. [John] Belushi was the same way – he never refused a fan an autograph, ever.
How did the whistling solo come about in “Sitting On The Dock Of The Bay”? Carl Franks, via email
Ronnie Capone, who was the engineer on it, said, “One thing’s for sure, Otis’ll never be a whistler,” or something like that. And I guess Otis proved him wrong – it was the next take that we did it. He never did hear the seagulls or the waves or the electric guitar. I was setting up to overdub the last time I saw him. I said, ‘Bye, see you Monday, have a good time.’ We had a gig too, and we were sitting on the tarmac all frozen in on a Sunday morning. Duck said, “If we could get ahold of Otis’s pilot, he’d get us outta here.” We didn’t know his plane had already gone down.
The riff at the beginning of “Soul Man”: was that something you had in your back pocket, or did you come up with it on the spot? Garry, via email
Let me tell you the story of that one. Isaac [Hayes, co-writer] came up to the control room. He said, ‘I know you’re not to be bothered when you’re mixing, but David and I have written a hit and we cannot come up with an intro.’ I was known as the intro guy in those days. He said, ‘Can you just come down for five minutes, get your guitar and play something?’ I said, ‘OK.’ He played the intro that he had, and I just did what I call hammer licks, the third and the one, G and E. And that was it.
Fast forward to The Blues Brothers. I said to John [Belushi] after we did all his blues songs, ‘Can we do something people can dance to?’ He said, ‘Like what?’ I looked over at [arranger] Paul Shaffer: ‘Do you remember “Soul Man”?’ Everybody fell in and that was it. Danny [Aykroyd] come out of the back with that crazy-leg dance he had. In my show I say, ‘I bet you could name this song in two notes.’ I play it and the crowd goes nuts.
What was John Belushi like as a frontman? Nathan Prince, via email
He was great. A lot of the journalists said, ‘What are you and Duck doing playing with these two comedians?’ But they weren’t just comedians, Danny actually played harmonica on every song that we did. And John used to front a band, play drums and sing. He’s good. But he was always giving something away: he gave away cars, houses. His manager would have to spend the next day following John on stuff he’d given away the night before…
The Blues Brothers played with the Grateful Dead at the last ever show at Winterland on New Year’s Eve 1978. How did you fit in with the Deadheads? Paula Friedman, via email
Pretty good! We hung out with the bass player all night long. They gave us a strict warning: do not let Belushi do any drugs while you’re playing. So we’re walking out and some kid hands him a Pepsi bottle, and he just downs it. Oh god! I knew it had to be laced with something. About an hour later he was off and away. Luckily the playing was over, so it didn’t matter.
Billy Cox once said you were one of Jimi Hendrix’s greatest influences. Can you hear yourself in his playing? Mike Beadle, via email
I don’t hear one note that he played where I influenced him! He didn’t play like me – he’s his own man. But it’s true in one aspect. We played a college gig [with the Isley Brothers at DePauw University in 1965] where they had different bands at opposite ends of the hall. When one band would quit their last number, we’d pick up. And we did that back and forth all night long. I’d go over and watch him play, then I’d look down and see him watching me play. So Jimi was a good friend. Another tragedy. He was so high when I last saw him, he barely recognised me. I grabbed his buddies and said, ‘Get him sober, you gonna kill him’. He died about three weeks later.
What are your recollections of headlining Slane Castle in Ireland as part of Neil Young’s band in 1993, and your memories of the tour in general? Eugene Veldon, Galway
Neil’s great, he’s somethin’ else. Everybody says he’s crazy but he danced over to me one time and said, ‘At least I don’t have to tell you guys what song is next…’ We got nominated for the number one tour that year, but he got so much hate mail. People wanted to see Crazy Horse, they didn’t wanna see Booker T & The MGs – we were way too organised!
You played on Frank Blank’s Honeycomb album in 2005. How do you prepare for playing with an artist from a whole different scene? Giovanni, via email
That’s a good question. I don’t know, I just fire it up and go. Duck used to say, ‘We’re not gonna make work out of this are we boys?’ I just play to what I hear, that’s all I can do. If it’s country, I’ll play country. If it’s somethin’ else, I’ll play somethin’ else. Except for one thing – I can’t play jazz, never could. But you can’t do everything.
