The “5” Royales were always at the heart of the discography of my book, Sweet Soul Music. As one of their album titles proclaimed, their music represented “the roots of soul.” Long before the internet made it possible to have the world at your fingertips, Joe and I discussed such matters long into the night. There was never any question in our minds that the “5” Royales should have been one of the first groups inducted into the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame – if there were any justice (if James Brown had truly ruled the world, as it seemed for a while he might), they would have been voted in by acclamation. It wasn’t so much the vast influence of their performances and compositions, for which Joe makes so eloquent a case, as the striking originality, the still-startling “presentness” of their music. But let Joe tell you about it – and then just give yourself over to the music. (But don’t forget “The Slummer the Slum,” and “It’s Hard But It’s Fair,” and “Monkey Hips and Rice,” and…oh, once you start, you’re never going to stop.
– PG
Mr C:
“Soul and Swagger” is a bold and declarative title for the new Rockbeat five-CD set, The Complete “5” Royales (1951-67). It’s also cool and entirely appropriate. Soul and Swagger is pink-tinged and packaged in a user-friendly, 45-sleeve-size bound book, a design model used in the gorgeous The Complete Motown Singles series. To even a casual fan, it looks like something to own.
And of course it is, if only as an absorbing history of a group that had hits in the ‘50s hardscrabble rhythm and blues world but who also remained vital “voices in the shadows” (a 1963 single by the group is appropriately called “I’m Standing in the Shadows”), their remarkable talent and influence unduly unheralded.
For, ironically, some of the “5” Royales’ greatest songs (composed by the group’s all-everything, linchpin guitarist Lowman Pauling), are best known through the interpretations of others: "Dedicated to the One I Love" (a massive pop hit for both the Shirelles and The Mamas and Papas), “Think” (a hit twice, in two different versions by Royales’ acolyte James Brown), and “Tell the Truth”, plucked by Atlantic-period Ray Charles.
But now, with “soul and swagger”, the “5” Royales themselves are back…bad as they want to be!
A thumbnail sketch of the group has them planted in their hometown of Winston Salem, N.C., a regional gospel favorite originally known as the Royal Sons. A demo made its way to New York City’s Apollo Records, an independent with tentacles in black gospel music. Two Royal Sons’ singles were released, but Apollo was looking for rhythm and blues (think of the teenage Solomon Burke). The Sons, seemingly without protest, made the switch. Thus were the “5” Royales (changed from mere “Royals”) born. Within a year, the group had a smash, Pauling’s catchy, stop/start, jump blues “Baby Don’t Do It.” And off they went.
Singles followed, hits were bunched at the beginning, and a sound evolved, kicked off in the session following up the first hit. The song is a Lowman Pauling original, “Help Me Somebody,” the singer is the Royales’ formidable tenor, Johnny Tanner, a treasure of a vocalist who puts his heart and burrows his soul into the gospel-drenched, world-weary plea, with the group draped around him in support. It’s a seminal soul moment, you can hear the voice-to-come of the Atlantic Ray Charles right there. Of course there is no real birth-of-soul sunburst necessarily, it came in bits and pieces from all over. But the “5” Royales became a cornerstone, their minor-key, intense laments a big jumping-off point for James Brown and a cast of millions.
In 1954, with their career cruising along at a steady hum, the “5” Royales switched labels, moving to r&b powerhouse King Records. It’s a move that should have catapulted the band to even loftier heights. But here the story oddly stumbles.
The hits didn’t come. New York sessions with session ace Mickey Baker replacing Pauling on guitar didn’t click. And a steady output of singles yielded little magic.
That changed in February of 1957, when bang, Lowman Pauling re-emerged, his guitar suddenly thrust forward emphatically, with thick, rich bursts of obbligatos and penetrating solo blasts that became the core of the new “5” Royales sound. “Think” was recorded that day, as well as doo-wop delight “Tears of Joy”. In the months to follow, “Dedicated (to the One I Love)”, “Say It”, “Tell the Truth”, “Slummer the Slum” and so many more tumbled out. Yet with all of this creative flowering and signature music being created, outside of “Think” the music was scarcely on the radio. By 1960, even with such transformative songs as “I’m With You” and “Wonder When You’re Coming Home,” the “5” Royales were slipping off the charts, and it was the Shirelles and James Brown who were recasting Lowman’s music. In a last-ditch effort, Sam Cooke gave them a song, “Why,” a generous gesture but one that yielded no commercial result.
The 1960s saw the “5” Royales slide from record company to record company: Home of the Blues, Vee Jay, Smash, Todd, Hi, and others. Even the inspired production efforts of Willie Mitchell and James Brown came up bare. With soul music exploding (and Steve Cropper using Pauling’s licks to shape an entirely new tributary of Memphis R&B), the band inexplicably could find no beachhead. Finally Tanner left. Pauling soldiered on, mostly with longtime group pianist Royal Abbit by his side. But by the end of 1967, this foundational ensemble was no more. On December 26, 1973, working as a janitor at a Brooklyn synagogue, Lowman Pauling passed away, no doubt having heard JB’s third resurrection of “Think” on the radio that year.
One wonders if after all the years on the road, all the songs and all the shows, the words to one of his signature songs might have passed through Lowman’s thoughts:
Think about the sacrifices, that I made for you
Think of all the times, that I spent with you
Think of all the good things, that I done for you…