NEWS

The fight to preserve King Records’ legacy

Sharon Coolidge
scoolidge@enquirer.com
King Records logo. Scanned 2/9/2017.

People are trying to kiss Elvis’ microphone.

Tour guides at Memphis’ Sun Records, inundated most days by throngs of people paying homage to the musical heritage of America, try to put the kibosh on that.

No licking. Instead just take a selfie with the mic.

But we want to embrace this special thing. Because T-shirts and key chains and memories aren’t enough. This is us. Who we are. We want to be where unique American gifts laid their grace on the global musical landscape forever.

Across the country, there are a few of these spots where magic happened and our history shifted. Motown. Preservation Hall. The Apollo. They are beloved. They are tourist attractions. Because someone recognized that and saved them.

Then there’s Cincinnati’s King Records, where rock history, civil rights history and Cincinnati history intersect at the corner on a dead end street just north of Downtown.

On Monday, we may lose not only the fight to save the building, but the city’s identification with the legacy as well.

This is the place, after all, where the rock ’n’ roll standard “Good Rockin’ Tonight” first became a hit in the late 1940s. Where hillbilly boogie – soon to morph into rock ’n’ roll – first got a listen in 1946. Where Tiny Bradshaw wrote and recorded “Train Kept a Rollin’ ” and made it immortal.

Where “The Twist” was written by a King artist. Where one of the songs on the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’s list of those who shaped the genre – The Midnighters “Work With Me Annie” – was recorded.

Where James Brown became, well, James Brown.

It was where, in 1943, Syd Nathan set his sights on making music that could make money, no matter the color of the people making it for him. His was a big business on a small dead-end street in Evanston, where musicians recorded, records were pressed, album covers designed and printed and, finally, assembled and shipped. He made a practice of welcoming anyone who could do the work.

His was an integrated workforce in a time of segregation.

King artist Philip Paul came to Cincinnati in 1951, lured by Bradshaw to play at the Cotton Club in the West End, the lone integrated nightclub in the city that drew some of the greatest jazz talents of the era.

King Records, the 91-year-old performer said, was a place where “they weren’t concerned about the color of a man’s skin. Just the music.”

Former King Records recording artist Philip Paul poses with city council members and family in front of the newly named Philip Paul Place near the corner of Woodburn Avenue and Potter Place.

“The civil rights aspect of what happened at King Records is profound,” said Elliott Ruther, co-founder of the Cincinnati USA Music Heritage Foundation. “Had it not been for the progressive way Syd Nathan ran his business, I don’t think music would have happened the way it did.”

All this a decade before Sun Records revolutionized music by signing Elvis Presley.

At its peak, King was the nation’s sixth-largest record company. In all, from 1943 to 1971, King racked up 461 hits. Of those, 32 went to No. 1 on the country, pop and R&B charts.

But it is somehow lost in the musical fray of the time.

Otis Williams, 81, who sang King’s first million-dollar-selling record “Hearts Made of Stone,” put it this way: “King Records started a revolution. We don’t get the credit.”

Former King Records recording artists Bootsy Collins, left, and Philip Paul, center, and Otis Williams, in early 2017, after the city honored the three musicians by renaming streets in their home neighborhoods for them.

Jon Fox, a Dayton native who in 2009 published “King of the Queen City: The Story of King Records,” says he hopes preservationists win the battle both for the musical history that happened inside the walls and its civil rights roots.

“The first rock ’n’ roll song came out of King, in my opinion,” Fox said of Wynonie Harris’ 1948 hit “Good Rockin’ Tonight.”

“Everything we call rock ’n’ roll was present on that record: young attitude, a hip beat, hip lyrics, and a mix of black, blue and white country,” Fox said.

It was Nathan, who once owned a record shop, who realized early on there was little difference between the music black people listened to and what white people listened to, Fox said.

“He thought race was an artificial construct when it came to music,” Fox said. “He encouraged musicians to think less about genres and more about the music. His contribution of biracial cooperation was a lynchpin of rock ’n’ roll.”

King, Fox said, could not have happened in most places.

“The fact that it was in Cincinnati was the secret ingredient that made it special,” Fox said. “It was a crossroads for a lot of types of music. Musicians could draw from many genres without having to go far from home.”

And all of it happened in that one little building on Brewster Avenue in Evanston.

The former King Records complex once employed more than 400 people and was the nation's sixth-largest record company.

Today, Phillip Mitchell, who owns the King Records building, is seeking to demolish the small, brown brick structure to make way for development. Cincinnati city officials are hell-bent on blocking the demolition, aiming to preserve the building, much like Detroit and Memphis before them have done, turning their treasures into a working recording studio and museum. Cincinnati has even taken steps to take the property by eminent domain if necessary.

“It is part of our city’s DNA and we should embrace it,” Mayor John Cranley said. “Most people don’t know Cincinnati’s role in the birth of rock ’n’ roll. We want to change that.”

Terry Stewart, former Rock and Roll Hall of Fame president, put it like this in 2008: “There’s not a more important piece of real estate in musical history than the building over there on Brewster. If you folks don’t remember and preserve it, shame on you.”

L.A. Reid, Epic Records chairman and noted songwriter and producer, grew up in nearby Evanston and got his start in Cincinnati with the group Pure Essence. He reminds that so much of what came after in music started in that ugly Cincinnati building.

“King Records is an institution of important music and music history largely due to two dynamic men,” Reid told The Enquirer. “One being Syd Nathan, the company’s founder, and one of the most visionary record men of all time.

James Brown with Bootsy Collins playing bass in the background, circa 1970.

“The other being the incomparable James Brown, whose music is timeless and includes arguably some of the most significant recordings of all time. James Brown’s songs are still some of the most sampled beats in hip-hop, from legendary rappers that include Kanye West, Jay-Z, Nas, Dr. Dre, Public Enemy, Boogie Down Productions and a host of others.

“Without both Syd and my favorite artist as a kid, James Brown,” he added, “hip-hop would not have had the foundation to become one of the most influential cultural movements of all time.”

King shuttered its doors in 1971, three years after Nathan died. It would be used for other things, most recently a warehouse.

In 1997, Brown visited the King building, a trip that was to be a walk down memory lane.

“He was outraged when he saw the building,” said Patti Collins, who is married to Bootsy Collins and is the president of the Bootsy Collins Foundation and founder of Cincinnati USA Music Heritage Foundation.

“When he saw how it fell apart, he was very hurt,” Collins said.

Bootsy Collins and Philip Paul greet well-wishers at the city street re-naming in early 2017.

Dinner conversation at the Collins’ home turned to what could be done to salvage the building and the history that happened inside, Collins said.

“From then on, we said we have to do something about saving it,” Collins said. “We said if our generation doesn’t step up and do something, this building will be torn down and forgotten.”

Former Mayor Dwight Tillery, who was then on City Council, was there for the tour and dinner that turned into a jam session.

“It was amazing how upset Brown was,” Tillery said. “He kept saying, ‘Where is my desk?’”

Tillery grew up in the neighborhood, digging blemished 45s out of King’s trash bins to toss around like Frisbees.

“I thought maybe there was a possibility there,” Tillery said.

An architect drew up plans for a new facility. Tillery asked council to infuse $10 million in the project. There wasn’t enough support. Tillery left council in 1998.

Evanston Community Council embraced the idea, but didn’t have the money.

The original King Records headquarters was at an old ice factory at 1540 Brewster Ave. in Evanston.

“This was sitting dormant in our backyard,” said Anzora Adkins, president of Evanston Community Council. “It started on the local level; people in the neighborhood wanted to preserve it. We realized it would be an asset to the neighborhood.”

Brown died in 2006, reminding those on the King mission to keep working.

In 2008, the city planted a historic marker on the premises. The ceremony drew a huge crowd. But plans to bring it back to life were still, for the most part, stagnant.

Dynamic Industries, a machine tool company, saw the property not as history, but as a business venture.

Knowing nothing of the historic battle that was about to be waged, Dynamic bought the land King Records sits on, part of a plan to assemble surrounding land and create a larger, more desirable place to locate business.

Beverly Shillito, a lawyer representing Dynamic, did not return a call for comment. But the company’s side of the story is outlined in a report filed with the city last fall as part of the demolition request.

When Dynamic bought it, the King portion of the property was “already in a years-long state of dilapidation” and “it has long been the intention of the owner to demolish the building to make way for future uses on the overall property,” the report said.

Dynamic, the report made clear, has assembled 12 acres of land. King Records sits on just a small portion of it. The portion with the King building is valued at $220,000, which is for the land only. The building itself has no value. A city estimate shows it could cost as much as $500,000 to bring the building into compliance with the city’s vacant building code.

Years went by with no action from Dynamic or the city.

Cranley was elected mayor in 2013. Long interested in its legacy, he was now in a position to do something about it.

In June 2015, Dynamic sought to demolish King Records.

In October of that year, the city designated the building a historic landmark, declaring it a place to be protected, preserved and restored. Cranley hoped to include renovation and operating costs – $2 million – in the failed parks levy. But a loss there hasn’t dimmed his or City Council’s passion for the project.

Since then, the fight has worked its way through the courts, with a final ruling that the city must consider Dynamic’s request for demolition. That hearing is Monday.

The 12-acre property is for sale. With no signed agreement, and the building getting worse by the day, the city last month started the process that could lead to taking the property through eminent domain. It has offered Dynamic $220,000 for the King building.

The King Records complex today.

City officials haven’t heard back.

Today, at the site, a bronze plaque reads “The King of Them All.” It mentions the studio’s biggest stars and tells anyone who bothers to turn down the small quiet side street that sits above Interstate 71 that “Cincinnati’s King Records revolutionized the music industry.”

But King Records, whose music was so vibrant, is a faded shadow of itself. Big, blue graffiti mars the bricks. The historic marker is chipped and peeling. Inside, people who have toured it say the roof is collapsing, the sky peeking through.

None of that deters city officials, music lovers and historic preservationists, who say the building is worth saving.

“The history of this recording company is unique to Cincinnati yet significant to the entire phenomenon of popular music,” said Paul Muller, executive director of the Cincinnati Preservation Association. “This is the type of cultural asset we need to understand our history and enhance our future.”

“We’re on a journey,” said Collins, “and we see a lot of light at the end of the tunnel.”

The Sun Studio building in Memphis, Tenn., today.

Nestled in Memphis’ medical district, Sun Records is a small brick building.

After it ceased to be a recording studio, it was a barber shop, laundromat and even a surf shop. But after a reunion of Sun artists Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, Roy Orbison and Carl Perkins in 1985, music fans began reclaiming the building as their own.

In 1987, it was converted back into a recording studio.

“It’s a mecca for people,” said Nina Jones, a spokeswoman and tour guide at Sun. “I hear on a daily basis from people who say they waited their whole lives to stand here and see this.”

It can draw up to 700 visitors a day in the summer. This is the dream. This is what Cincinnati city fathers hope can happen here.

By many accounts, music tourism is on the upswing, though there is no national accounting of such tourism. The Nashville Convention and Visitors Corp. from 2003 to 2013 grew tourism in that city from $3 billion to $5 billion annually.

Nobody thinks Cincinnati will ever be Nashville, but a historic music site could work in Cincinnati, said Jennifer Wilgus Fowler, associate professor of economics and music business at Belmont University.

Reissued vinyl copies of past Sun Studio artist are sold at the Sun Studio gift shop in Memphis, Tenn., on Friday, Feb. 3, 2017.

“In Nashville and Memphis, there are multiple music attractions,” Fowler said. “But Cincinnati doesn’t necessarily need that to be successful. King could be tied to other attractions.”

There could be a connection to the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center, she said, because of the civil rights history, or it could be as simple as marketing it along with the zoo as an attraction to visit.

Cincinnati has made inroads in the music festival circuit with Bunbury Music Festival and MidPoint Music Festival, the former drawing more than 40,000 people each of the last two years. And then there is the Cincinnati Music Festival, whose producer said last year that 50 percent to 60 percent of the crowd hailed from Chicago.

Back in Memphis, the office where Elvis was discovered has been recreated, with a working recording studio behind it. Masking tape Xs mark where Perkins, Cash and Lewis grouped around Presley at the piano in December 1956.

Upstairs is a small museum. And, of course, there’s a gift shop.

Tour guide Zach Ozburn leads a sold out tour session through the Sun Studios museum in Memphis.

Jeanette Hochstatter, 54, of Oakland, California, and Lisa Fisher, 56, of Rogers, Arkansas, stopped by Sun Records while visiting Memphis for the Garth Brooks concert.

“They made the music come to life,” Fisher said. “If Cincinnati did something like this and we visited, we would definitely go see it.”

Come Monday, we will know if they can.

26 years, 32 No. 1 songs

In its 26-year history (1944-70), Cincinnati’s King Records and its associated labels (King, Queen federal regal, DeLuxe, Starday, etc.) put 461 singles on the country, pop and R&B charts. Of that total, 32 went to No. 1. By artist, they are:

• Hank Ballard

“Work With Me Annie,” 1954.

“Annie Had a Baby,” 1954.

“Let’s Go. Let’s Go. Let’s Go,” 1960.

• Earl Bostic

“Flamingo,” 1951.

• James Brown

“Try Me,” 1958.

“Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag (Part 1),” 1965.

“I Got You (I Feel Good),” 1965.

“It’s a Man’s Man’s Man’s World,” 1966.

“Cold Sweat (Part 1),” 1967.

“I Got the Feelin’,” 1968.

“Say It Loud – I’m Black and I’m Proud (Part 1),” 1968.

“Give It Up or Turnit a Loose,” 1969.

“Mother Popcorn (You Got To Have a Mother By Me) (Part 1),” 1969.

“Super Bad (Part 1 & Part 2), 1970.

• Roy Brown

“Long About Midnight,” 1948.

“Hard Luck Blues,” 1950.

• The Charms

“Hearts of Stones,” 1954.

• Cowboy Copas

“Alabama,” 1960.

• Delmore Brothers

“Blues Stay Away From Me,” 1949.

• Bill Doggett

“Honky Tonk (Parts 1 & 2),” 1956.

• Wynonie Harris

“Good Rockin’ Tonight,” 1948.

“All She Wants To Do Is Rock,” 1949.

• Hawkshaw Hawkins

“Lonesome 7-7203,” 1963.

• Bullmoose Jackson & his Buffalo Bearcats

“I Love You, Yes I Do,” 1947.

“I Can’t Go on Without You,” 1948.

• Little Willie John

“Fever,” 1956.

• Lonnie Johnson

“Tomorrow Night,” 1948.

• Moon Mullican

“I’ll Sail My Ship Alone,” 1950.

• Wayne Raney

“Why Don’t You Haul Off and Love Me,” 1949.

• Red Sovine

“Giddyup Go,” 1965.

• Billy Ward and the Dominoes

“Sixty-Minute Man,” 1951.

“Have Mercy Baby,” 1952.

Source: Cliff Radel