A Cornerstone of American Soul: Remembering Ben E. King by Charles L. Hughes

Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images A Cornerstone of American Soul: Remembering Ben E. Kingby Charles L. Hughes | @CharlesLHughes2 | special to NewBlackMan (in Exile)
When Ben E. King died last week, the world lost not only one of its great singers. We also said goodbye to a figure who both symbolized and signaled larger historical transformations in the 20th century United States and beyond.
Born in North Carolina, King joined countless other African Americans by relocating to Harlem with his family in 1947. There, he joined several vocal groups including the 5 Crowns, a doo-wop ensemble that performed at the Apollo and elsewhere. In 1958, the Crowns were asked to replace the first line-up of the Drifters, the hit Atlantic Records group whose energetic hits and charismatic lead singer Clyde McPhatter, made them one of the most important acts in the R&B explosion of the 1950s. Embroiled in a conflict with their manager, the McPhatter-led Drifters were fired and replaced by the 5 Crowns, with King installed as the new lead singer.
The King-led Drifters retooled their sound to better spotlight their lead vocalist’s rich, subtle baritone. Working with producer Phil Spector, then at the height of his success with the lush “Wall of Sound,” and skilled songwriters like Jerry Leiber & Mike Stoller or Doc Pomus & Mort Shuman, the King-led Drifters surpassed the commercial success of the original ensemble. For the next several years – both with the Drifters and as a solo artist – Ben E. King was one of the most prominent artists in U.S. popular music.
King’s Atlantic hits were sharp and elegant symphonies that blended a rich musical palette with the singer’s singularly intense vocals. With their sweeping strings and soaring crescendos, records like “This Magic Moment” and “Dance With Me” offered a soundtrack for an age of new opportunity in the wake of the Great Migration, the post-war expansion of the middle class, and the modern Civil Rights Movement.
Additionally, with their Latin flavor, many of King’s recordings – most obviously his first solo hit “Spanish Harlem” – revealed the continuing interchange between black and Latin communities in New York, which defined the 20th-century city and only increased after the passage of the 1965 Hart-Celler Immigration Act. This interchange also structured King’s greatest anthem, “Stand By Me.” Written by Leiber and Stoller, who based it on a gospel standard, “Stand By Me” blended cha-cha rhythms with a call for community that resonated with Civil Rights workers, soldiers in Vietnam, and countless others who sought communal strength in the face of danger and isolation. King specialized in such juxtapositions.
On tracks like “Save the Last Dance for Me” and “I (Who Have Nothing),” King’s pained vocals cut through the rich arrangements to focus the listener’s attention on his call for connection. He didn’t just stand out – he often stood alone.
King’s astonishing run of hits slowed in the mid-1960s, a change that he blamed on the British Invasion and could also be attributed to the rising prominence of Motown, Memphis and other new capitals of R&B/soul. King was a major influence on all of those developments, of course, and the singer’s underrated output from in the late 1960s and early 1970s engaged fully with these new developments. He recorded striking covers of R&B-influenced British rockers Elton John and Van Morrison, and he embraced the deep grit of southern soul on records like 1967’s appropriately-titled “What Is Soul?” and his collaboration with super-group The Soul Clan, where he was a last-minute replacement for Wilson Pickett.
Although he scored mostly minor hits in this period, he returned to the charts in a big way with the sexy uptown funk of “Supernatural Thang,” a Top 10 in both Pop and R&B in 1975. He stayed funky on 1977’s Benny & Us, a collaboration with the Average White Band that produced several hits. The album’s highlight, the disco-drenched “A Star In The Ghetto,” was a loving tribute to black New York that refuted “benign neglect” myths of dysfunction and offered a fitting bookend for a singer who had so long celebrated the sounds and people of the multiracial city. At the moment when hip-hop created a new generation of artists meditating on New York’s promise and problems, “A Star In The Ghetto” is a beautiful amen from an elder statesmen.
Even as King earned his elder status, he still had an impact on the trajectories of pop even into the 21st century.  In 2007, Jamaican reggae-pop singer Sean Kingston topped the U.S. charts with “Beautiful Girls,” which sampled “Stand By Me’s” backing track, and – in 2010 – New York-based bachata singer Prince Royce had his breakthrough hit with a Spanglish version of “Stand By Me” that offered a fitting 21st-century remix of King’s greatest anthem. That same year, King performed with Prince Royce at the Latin Grammys, a torch-passing that affirmed the musical and cultural connection between the generations. It was one of King’s last prominent public appearances.
Ben E. King’s legacy is rich and multifaceted. He was a singular artist, who had hits for four decades and left behind a wealth of remarkable recordings. As a key player in the R&B and soul revolution, he helped provoke a crucial shift in American popular music and the cultural language of the world. His life and art further symbolize broader cultural changes that shaped his life and defined his art. He reminds us all of the importance of community, and calls to us to stand by each other. He will be missed.
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Charles L. Hughes is assistant professor of history at Oklahoma State University. His book, Country Soul: Making Music and Making Race in the American South, is now available from the University of North Carolina Press. Follow him on Twitter @CharlesLHughes2.