Remembering Ronnie Spector, lead singer of the Ronettes

DAVID BIANCULLI, HOST:

This is FRESH AIR. I'm David Bianculli, professor of television studies at Rowan University in New Jersey, in for Terry Gross. We're going to remember the influential and larger-than-life fashion editor Andre Leon Talley. He died Tuesday at the age of 73. An enthusiastic champion of fashion, he was the first Black man to hold the position of creative director at Vogue magazine. He worked there for much of his career, first as fashion news director and later as editor at large. At 6 feet 6 inches tall, often wearing capes and caftans created for him by some of the world's top designers, he was an unmistakable sight.

Talley grew up in Durham, N.C., in the Jim Crow era. His grandmother, who raised him, was a maid who worked for Duke University. The fashions he was exposed to came largely from what people wore to church on Sundays until, at age 9, he discovered Vogue magazine. After getting a scholarship to Brown University and a master's degree in French literature, he moved to New York, worked at Andy Warhol's magazine Interview and was mentored by former Vogue editor Diana Vreeland.

Terry Gross spoke to Andre Leon Talley in 2018, when he was the subject of the documentary "The Gospel According To Andre Leon Talley."

(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED NPR BROADCAST)

TERRY GROSS: Andre Leon Talley, welcome to FRESH AIR. Let's start with, how were you introduced to the world of fashion?

ANDRE LEON TALLEY: Well, from an early age, I discovered fashion through the pages of Vogue. I went to the public library in Durham, N.C. And I was about 10 years old or maybe 9. And I discovered this magazine called Vogue. And in those days, it came out on the 1 and 15 of every month. And the editor was Diana Vreeland. And this was my escape world when I was a young boy. I grew up in my grandmother's home in Durham, N.C. - a modest home. She was a maid at Duke University. And it was just my grandmother and myself. She was an extraordinary woman. She was a frugal woman. And she was - she watched her budget. She had a bank account. And we had a wonderful life because I never knew anything but love - unconditional love.

GROSS: So you're a 9-year-old boy, and you're totally fascinated by these fashions that adult women are wearing. So what...

TALLEY: (Laughter).

GROSS: ...Captivated you as a 9-year-old boy about the world of Vogue?

TALLEY: The world of Vogue meant more to me than what the women were wearing as models. The issues of Vogue captivated me not only for the images of the fashion spreads, but it was the magazine itself that turned me on to a world that I did not know, had not been exposed to. It was the world of literature, what was happening in the world of art, what was happening in the world of entertainment. It was my - a gateway to the world outside of Durham, N.C. It wasn't just the fashions. Of course, I love the fashions. I loved the beautiful images. And I related so much to the images and then the written words, the captions, the articles.

So I was living through Vogue as an escape hatch, but reading every single page, loving every single detail. I mean, they had a men's column called "Men In Vogue," and that was very fascinating to me. And it was a world that I internalized and I kept to myself as a young man because no one was interested in Vogue or fashion other than I. Then I was ripping pages out of Vogue, putting the pictures up on my wall in my room with thumbtacks, and I just had a room wallpapered from head to ceiling - floor to ceiling - with images from Vogue.

GROSS: So just to set the scene, while you're entering the world of Vogue and very much wanting...

TALLEY: Yeah.

GROSS: ...To live in that world of fashion and literature and music and art...

TALLEY: Art, art.

GROSS: Yeah. So describe the actual house you were living in.

TALLEY: My grandmother's house was very modest. It was a house of four rooms - a kitchen, living room, two bedrooms and one bath. And we did not have central heating. I remember we had coal heating when I was very young. And then we converted to gas heating. We had a gas stove in the front bedroom where I slept, and then we had a gas stove in the kitchen, which heated up my grandma's bedroom. But this house was a house of immaculate cleanliness. My grandmother was a great, great housekeeper. She gave me the chores of scrubbing the front porch, scrubbing the floors. I had to scrub the floors once a week. I also learned to polish the woodwork in the living room with Johnson's paste wax, CRA (ph) paste wax. That was hard to - so I get the floor to shine. And I did this as a young man.

And all the time, my grandmother was going to work to be a maid. She'd come home at 3 o'clock every afternoon, make supper. We sit down and look at the one little TV we had. My father had bought the TV for me from Washington, D.C. We had a black-and-white television. And we - I remember - in the house - the stove was a very great memory for me in the kitchen because of - the smells from the kitchen were wonderful. I remember my grandmother making wonderful lemon pound cakes and the smell of vanilla extract - McCormick's vanilla extract...

GROSS: Oh, yes (laughter).

TALLEY: ...The color of the vanilla extract. And the smell was amazing - still lingers in my memory.

GROSS: So were you bullied when you were in high school?

TALLEY: Of course I was bullied. I was bullied and beaten up and everything.

GROSS: What was your defense?

TALLEY: I would get on a school bus, and I would say something, and they would just pounce on me because, also, I had beautiful clothes. I didn't have a lot of clothes, but my grandmother and my father would put me in the best clothes they could afford. And I had beautiful sweaters and trousers and beautiful penny loafers and quality shoes. And I didn't show off. I wasn't a showoff. I wasn't showing off. But I would just get on the school bus - and I was tall and skinny - and they just would beat me up (laughter).

GROSS: So was there a way you could defend yourself?

TALLEY: I only defended myself through silence and not being a disruptor. I didn't fight back. I didn't know how to fight back. And I didn't know how to articulate this to my grandmother or anyone.

GROSS: So I want to kind of collapse a period of your life here. So you move...

TALLEY: Collapse it, darling. (Unintelligible).

GROSS: (Laughter) So after you graduated high school, you go to college.

TALLEY: Yes.

GROSS: Then you move to Rhode Island to go to Brown University for your master's...

TALLEY: Yes. Yes.

GROSS: ...Your undergraduate and master's degree - both...

TALLEY: I got my undergraduate degree...

GROSS: ...In French literature.

TALLEY: ...In French literature. And I tell you, when I went to Brown and won that scholarship, the world opened. When I got on the train - I went to Brown on a train from Durham. My uncle went with me. He rode with me to Philadelphia. I had all these boxes on the train. It was the first time ever being away from home. So I went to Brown alone. I went to the campus alone. I navigated my way alone.

And I got to Brown, and the world opened up - the world of exposure, the world of literature. I discovered even more, the great, great poets - Baudelaire, Rimbaud. I discovered the beautiful paintings of Eugene Delacroix. I discovered Manet. I discovered the great worlds of art, things, music. Music had not been - classical music had not been a part of my upbringing - gospel music and church music. And in the world of Brown, I discovered beautiful classical music - piano music, Chopin, Clara Schumann.

Things like this were really new to me. And I was so curious about everything. And the people were so sophisticated at Brown and at RISD, the Rhode Island School of Design. So I just had the world open up to me in just ways that had never been opened to me before.

GROSS: You know what? I realized you are one of the few guests I've had who talks even faster than I do.

(LAUGHTER)

TALLEY: I'm talking fast, but I'm loving it. I hope that you understand it.

GROSS: I absolutely understand, and I'm quite enjoying it.

TALLEY: OK.

GROSS: So you get to New York after graduating from Brown. And you'd always wanted to meet Andy Warhol and the people...

TALLEY: Yes. Yes.

GROSS: ...Who he helped make famous. And you not only got to meet them, you got to work at his magazine, Interview magazine...

TALLEY: Yes.

GROSS: ...Which, I should say, parenthetically, just filed for bankruptcy...

TALLEY: And closed.

GROSS: ...And closed. Yeah.

TALLEY: It folded.

GROSS: So when you were there and got to see all of the, like, Warhol superstars and everything, what made the biggest impression on you in terms of your own life in terms of your own personal and professional identity? - 'cause you were - you know, you were in your early 20s, I imagine, at the time. And it's a very formative period when you're still, you know, shaping who you are and figuring out who you want to be. And you're looking at all these people who kind of remade themselves, who transformed themselves into something else.

TALLEY: Well, this is what I loved. I loved it. I loved the world. Now, the people that I met through Warhol were the people that I always wanted to know. They were not bullies. They did not judge you. There was unconditional admiration, if not love. People were free. People had made their choices. People were different. You know, some people perhaps had better clothes than others, but everyone was noted for their own worth, their own gifts. And I think that's why I felt so good because I felt at home. I felt that I was part of a special club at Andy Warhol's Interview magazine.

And they embraced me, and there was no criticism of me, as there would have been at home in Durham, N.C., you know? I was brought up in a very strict, modest home, but my nucleus, the nucleus of my family, was church. So being a Black man brought up in the African American Missionary Baptist Church culture meant that I had certain rules and certain ways to deport myself - through clothes and not only through my actions or attitudes about life. But when I got to meet Andy Warhol and people were walking around in jeans and blazers and sometimes Rive Gauche and sometimes not Rive Gauche, the world came to the doors of the Factory and Andy Warhol. Interview was the gateway to the world for me.

GROSS: Well, another thing about the Andy Warhol crowd is that there was a lot of gender and sexual fluidity.

TALLEY: Gender and sexual fluidity. But it wasn't rampant, and it wasn't overt. People went into the office, and there was a deportment about going into the Factory. You had a certain culture of the office at the Factory, which was very correct, very traditional, yet very relaxed and casual. There were all kinds of people. There were lesbians. There were gays. There were straight. There were drag queens. There were artists. But everyone was equal. So everyone mattered, and no matter who you were, it mattered. You mattered because you had individual gifts and talents. And that's what Andy admired.

Now, there wasn't a lot of sexuality going on. I did not see people having sex rampantly at work or taking drugs because it wasn't that atmosphere. When I got to the Factory, it was long after Andy had an assassination attempt. So the rules changed, so people were chosen for their seriousness and chosen for their possibilities to become who they wanted to be. And I was allowed to become who I wanted to be at the Factory and with Andy Warhol.

GROSS: Right. So eventually, you get to Vogue. You were a man at Vogue. You were also an African American man at Vogue.

TALLEY: Yes, yes.

GROSS: So I'm sure you stood out. Did you feel like you were with your people?

TALLEY: I never felt bullied.

GROSS: Or did you feel like you were separate?

TALLEY: I felt that I was on top of the world. I felt that I was with the best people. After all, Vreeland had endorsed me. I had the full endorsement. It was like if you had a political endorsement. It was the full endorsement of Vreeland and Andy Warhol, who were, for me, the king and queen of New York. The empress fashion had endorsed me. I had proven to her - I had assignments and challenges she gave me for certain installations in her shows, and I had proven to her my worth. I never feared anything. I never doubted myself once. I am a deeply insecure person for many reasons. I never showed my insecurity. I just rose to the occasion. I stood up straight and tall, like a tall, tall sunflower, and I just radiated the light and the beauty of my mind in relationship to the world of fashion.

BIANCULLI: Andre Leon Talley speaking to Terry Gross in 2018. More after a break. This is FRESH AIR.

(SOUNDBITE OF LARY BARILLEAU AND THE LATIN JAZZ COLLECTIVE'S "CARMEN'S MAMBO")

BIANCULLI: This is FRESH AIR. Let's get back to Terry's 2018 interview with influential fashion editor Andre Leon Talley. The longtime editor at large at Vogue died Tuesday. He was 73 years old.

(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED NPR BROADCAST)

GROSS: So one of your contributions in terms of personal style to fashion is your capes and your caftans. How did you start wearing them? And I should say these are not ordinary capes. These are, like...

TALLEY: (Laughter).

GROSS: ...Amazingly designed, like, sometimes out of fur or...

TALLEY: Meticulated (ph) fur and just thought out and processed with the great class - world-class designers. Well, when I went to Marrakech and saw that the men in North Africa, in Marrakech, in Casablanca walked around in caftan shirts and loose-fitting clothes all day, every day - they woke up. They put on their long-sleeved to the floor - ankle - shirts to the floor. They had caftans. And this is the indigenous dress of the Black man in Marrakech.

And this is - I decided I wanted to be like that. I want to wear that instead of a suit because it's comfortable. You're ventilated. You're roomy. You're cozy. And you can just stretch. And I'm not a tall stick anymore. I'm a big, big guy of great girth. And people think I look like - maybe my clothes don't look that important, but I have taken great time and fittings for my capes and caftans made by the great designers. So I will continue to wear these things to the rest of my life.

GROSS: Did your weight have anything to do with wanting to capes?

TALLEY: Absolutely.

GROSS: (Laughter).

TALLEY: Absolutely. My weight issue is an ongoing thing. It's an ongoing battle. I battled it. But I've had weight issues, and of course, my weight issues obviously go back to my childhood and the loss of love, and I considered - I associate food with love. My grandmother used to make me a pan of biscuits every Sunday morning just for myself. And you don't know how wonderful that smell is of those hot biscuits with butter and molasses. I have carried that throughout my life. She would make lemon pound cakes. At Christmas, we had fruitcakes, chocolate cake, coconut cake, lemon pound cake - four or five cakes, six pies, sitting, waiting to be eaten on Christmas Day for the family.

GROSS: But you were skinny as a young man, so something changed.

TALLEY: I - something changed when my grandmother died. It was when my grandmother died. I started eating for love, and I just don't know how to discipline. I'm sorry. Everyone in America is perhaps overweight, and I totally emphasize with people, emphasize. I did select caftans because the caftans create a stately, tall image. You can look great in them and look slim.

GROSS: So one of the things you mention in the new documentary about you is that you've never had a long-term romantic partner and that you were, you know, very preoccupied with your profession and loved your profession very much. Have you reflected a lot on why you think you never went in that direction?

TALLEY: Every day I reflect upon that. Well, I was - as Diane von Furstenberg, who is a dear friend of mine, said, I was afraid to fall in love. I was afraid of the rejection. I was afraid of the emotional commitment. And I was not deliberately making the - navigating through the shores and chiffon trenches of my career. It just wasn't a part of me. Because although I lived in a world of great promiscuity and libertine ways in the '70s - Studio 54, Paris - and I discovered the freedom of people embracing people for their individuality or not just their sexuality, that you could be gay, you could be quatrasexual or pansexual, as Janelle Monae says.

I just loved living the life that I lived, living through the world that I was exposed to on the front row from fashion. I was emotionally afraid of people, so I did not want to get close to people. I did not want people to touch me; I didn't like to touch people. So that is just a part of who I am. And I regret to this day - I have difficulty responding to physical emotion. And it's based on, I guess, a childhood experience. I don't know what it is. I can't relate to that. I can't think about that now.

But I do regret not having that relationship. I regret not having siblings. And I think about it almost every day because as I get older, it's very, very lonely. I have to live a lonely life. I live in my own gilt - gold-plated hell. As Tennessee Williams says, I know the gold-plated hell I'm going to. I have a beautiful home. I have beautiful books, beautiful furniture, beautiful art, beautiful music. I love movies. I have beautiful clothes. But I live in a gold-plated hell. However, I am not going to say it's the worst life. It's been a wonderful life.

GROSS: You know, you're talking about how you were quiet when you were growing up and alone. And you're so gregarious and so talkative and so easy to talk to. It seems like two different Andre Leon Talleys.

TALLEY: There is two different Andre Leon Talleys, as I said. Of course, there are two different Andre Leon Talleys. Because you - I have someone to talk to who is listening to what I have to say. And I didn't have that when I was growing up. I was very much a silent person. I was afraid of people. I went through high school thinking no one liked me. And then I realized people really adored me in high school. It's just amazing how I went through high school thinking I was an outsider. And I didn't discuss that with anyone; I had no one to discuss it with at home. Except for, you know, my...

GROSS: Well, people were beating you up, also. So you had every reason to think you were an outsider.

TALLEY: Yeah. Yeah. I was an outsider. I was an outsider with class and style. And I knew that I had style. I knew that I had style. I knew that I had style based on something very strong. I remember when I would see Ed Sullivan and the great talents he would have, like Tina Turner, Ike Turner, James Brown, those people impacted upon me. Tina - Ike Turner had a big belt and I wanted a belt just like that. I remember he was on the cover of Ebony magazine on 1971 May. And he had this big belt and a red sweater with no sleeves and plaid trousers tucked into boots. And I wanted to look like Ike Turner. I didn't want to be like Ike Turner, beating up Tina Turner, but I wanted to have that look.

GROSS: (Laughing) I hope...

TALLEY: And those looks I aspired to. I want to look like a pirate.

GROSS: When your grandmother died in 1989, did she have a clue how successful you'd become?

TALLEY: Oh, she was very proud of me. She was very - indeed, very proud, very proud. She had a great clue. She knew. She spoke to Mrs. Vreeland. She knew I was on the top of the world at Vogue. She was very proud.

GROSS: Did you dress her at all?

TALLEY: Of course, I did. You kidding?

GROSS: (Laughter) What were good grandmother clothes for her?

TALLEY: Well, good grandmother clothes were not necessarily the clothes. They were accessories. And on the summer, I would go to Garfinckel's when I was a park ranger in the government, a park - ranger at the Lincoln Memorial and a park ranger at the Fort Washington. And I would go spend all my money on gloves, Kislav leather gloves for my grandmother, to wear to church, black leather gloves. And I'd buy her beautiful Koret handbags - K-O-R-E-T. These are all the bags and things I discovered at Vogue. And then I would buy her sometimes shoes, but I was not big on shoes because I bought a pair of the very expensive alligator shoes once on a very high heel, a thick high heel. And I remember she did not wear them much. And she didn't want to hurt my feelings. She just didn't wear them much, and I realized that I made the bad choice because the heels were too high.

But she loved all the things that I bought her. I bought beautiful hats. And Karl Lagerfeld used to give me beautiful fabric from his collections at Chloe and I would take the fabric home, and she'd have beautiful dresses made. And those dresses are still in her closet. And then finally, when I got to be big at Vogue, I would buy Chanel suits from the ready-to-wear and give them to my grandmother to wear to church. And she loved them, and she was very proud - a navy blue suit and a pink suit.

GROSS: All right. It's been a pleasure to talk with you. Thank you so much.

TALLEY: Well, Terry, it's been a great pleasure talking with you.

BIANCULLI: Andre Leon Talley speaking with Terry Gross in 2018. The influential fashion editor died Tuesday at age 73. After a break, we remember singer Ronnie Spector, who died last week at age 78. And I'll review "The Gilded Age," the new costume drama series from Julian Fellowes, the creator of "Downton Abbey." I'm David Bianculli, and this is FRESH AIR.

(SOUNDBITE OF YO-YO MA, JOHN WILLIAMS AND RECORDING ARTS ORCHESTRA OF LOS ANGELES' "AMERICAN COLLECTION THEME (EXTENDED VERSION)")

DAVID BIANCULLI, HOST:

This is FRESH AIR. I'm David Bianculli in for Terry Gross. Last week, we lost one of the distinctive voices of early rock and roll - Ronnie Spector, the lead singer of the Ronettes. She died at the age of 78. The Ronettes were perhaps the greatest girl group of the early rock era with hit records like "Be My Baby," "Baby, I Love You" and "Walking In The Rain." An obituary in The Guardian noted, quote, "with their towering, black, beehive hairdos, extravagant eye makeup and tight sheath dresses, the Ronettes brought a whiff of sex and danger to the wholesome girl group genre of the early '60s," unquote.

Ronnie Spector was born Veronica Bennett. She and her multiracial bandmates grew up in the Washington Heights area of Manhattan. She married her record producer, Phil Spector, known for his big wall of sound. But he abused her, and they later divorced. The Ronettes broke up in 1967. Terry Gross spoke to Ronnie Spector in 1987, when she had started to record and perform again on her own. They started their conversation, though, with this 1963 classic.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "BE MY BABY")

THE RONETTES: (Singing) The night we met, I knew I needed you so. And if I had the chance, I'd never let you go. So won't you say you love me? I'll make you so proud of me. We'll make them turn their heads every place we go. So won't you please be my, be my baby? Be my little baby, my one and only baby. Say you'll be my darling. Be my, be my baby. Be my baby now, my one and only baby. Whoa, oh, oh, oh. I'll make you happy, baby. Just wait and see.

(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED NPR BROADCAST)

TERRY GROSS: Ronnie Spector, welcome to FRESH AIR.

RONNIE SPECTOR: Oh, I'm glad to be here, Terry.

GROSS: How did you first hear this song? Did the songwriter sing it for you before you performed it the first time?

SPECTOR: Well, the first time I heard it, you know, Phil and those were - and Ellie Greenwich and Jeff Barry. We met in a little studio, and they started writing around me. And I guess I was very - I was 16 years old and very shy. And I liked Phil at the time, and he liked me. I think they wrote it all around that - you know, our little love affair at the beginning. I think it was all a part of that - the lyrics and stuff.

GROSS: Do you remember the recording session?

SPECTOR: Like it was yesterday (laughter).

GROSS: What was it like?

SPECTOR: It was incredible because there I was in California recording, and I had never left New York. I had never been out of New York in my whole life, and there I am on a plane going to California by myself without the other two Ronettes just to do the lead part. And I'm in the - I remember being in the ladies' room at the New York airport, just singing in the bathroom (singing) be my - 'cause I don't read music or anything, and I don't play any instruments. So it was like - you had to just learn it over and over. And then Phil asked me to come to California and do it at Gold Star Studios, and that's where we recorded it. It just - a record that I remember that day being in the studio. I remember what color dress I was wearing (laughter). I remember everything.

GROSS: Now, as we'll hear, one of the things you do on this record is your famous - I can't. I can't even imitate this, but you have the...

SPECTOR: (Singing) Whoa, oh.

GROSS: Yeah, your famous whoa, oh, oh (laughter)...

SPECTOR: Yes.

GROSS: ...Which you do a lot in "Be My Baby" and in a lot of your early records. How did you come up with that? Was that something you just started singing?

SPECTOR: No, it was like - Frankie Lymon used to sing, (singing) why do birds sing so gay and lovers await the break of day? Why do they fall in love?

And so I sort of got it from him. And it was like my own little (singing) whoa, ohs - came out, you know? I think it was like - I was three years old. I was singing this song - what was it called? I can't even remember, but it was like a - one of those yodeling songs for my family. And I think it's just something that I started, and it stuck - the (singing) whoa, oh. Oh, oh, oh, oh.

As a matter of fact, when I did the Eddie Money song "Take Me Home Tonight," I did the whoa-ohs without any music or anything. And then they added that to the track (laughter).

GROSS: Can we talk about some of those old memories...

SPECTOR: Sure.

GROSS: ...About how you started to sing? You formed the Ronettes with two of your cousins when you were all teenagers.

SPECTOR: No, a sister and a cousin.

GROSS: A sister and a cousin, oh, OK.

SPECTOR: Right.

GROSS: And how did you learn to sing harmonies?

SPECTOR: Oh, actually, it was, like, a bunch of cousins. I had so many first cousins, and I remember being on the rooftop, you know, rehearsing and trying to get our routines together and stuff for the Brooklyn Fox. We had a sort of strict upbringing, so we couldn't go out in the - we could look out in the street and watch other girls walk and everything. But we couldn't go out 'cause our grandmother was very strict, so we stayed in the house.

And that's how we all just started singing because - out of boredom (laughter) and out of - all the people in our neighborhood were, like, becoming stars. Like, I - Frankie Lymon and stuff. And when I met him - I was in love with him when I - and I didn't even know him, and I was in love with him. I was in love with his voice.

GROSS: What kind of neighborhood was it that you grew up in?

SPECTOR: I grew up in Spanish Harlem, which was terrific because it was, like, every race, every color, every language. It was wonderful. My father's Irish, and my mother's Black and Indian. And every time somebody says Black and Indian, they say, oh, come on. They're not - they don't have Indian. My mother is really half-Indian, and she has the high cheekbones. And so I do look like all of those races.

GROSS: You broke in through - into the music business by being a dancer at the Peppermint Lounge, being a dancer on the "Murray The K" show...

SPECTOR: Right.

GROSS: ...Singing backup vocals. Did you do things in those early days to help get yourself noticed? Did you either, like, dress in such a way...

SPECTOR: Oh, yeah, are you kidding?

GROSS: ...As to call attention to yourself?

SPECTOR: Oh.

GROSS: OK, what'd you do?

SPECTOR: Oh, first of all, we would - we wore - we tried to be - you have to have a gimmick in this business. And we figured. And so we wore hair extra high - you know, the beehives in the '60s. And we wore eyeliner. And we wore slits up out - up the side of our dresses because we sang and danced. So we really looked different. And what was the question? I forget. I get so excited.

GROSS: Oh, about things you did to call attention to yourself...

SPECTOR: Yeah, I - and...

GROSS: ...When you're trying to break in.

SPECTOR: See; when we first - we decided to dress up, and we had a lot of aunts. My mother has, like, six sisters. And so that's seven of them dressing us. And they told us to put a cigarette in our mouth.

GROSS: (Laughter).

SPECTOR: And we stood outside the Peppermint Lounge, dressed just alike. And I was so glad because it's 14 hours smoking. They just didn't know it. And it was great because we stood on line, and we had to look over. So we tried - we had to exaggerate everything because all of us were underage. So it was very hard. But we had our gimmick. And it was amazing because before we even had "Be My Baby" as a hit record, being at the Brooklyn Fox as Murray the K's dancing girls, we would come out for lunch, and it was actual girls dressed like us and our hairstyles. It was knocking me out. I couldn't believe it.

GROSS: You had some of the highest hair in the whole music business.

SPECTOR: (Laughter) Well, that's what I said. You had to have a little attention. And we certainly brought attention with those high hairdos. I mean, we must have worn our hair at least 10 inches high.

GROSS: Now, you know, it always made me think that you were really tough, really streetwise.

SPECTOR: No.

GROSS: Were you? No?

SPECTOR: No, not at all. As a matter of fact, when we heard about people being junkies or dope addicts, I would ask my mother, where? Let me see one, because I wasn't a tough, streetwise kid at all. But I just - we just did all the dances, you know? And by living in Spanish Harlem, you learned all the dances anyway. I mean, you could just look out the window and people on the corner singing and stuff. And this is how we - and I loved it from the time I was 3 years old when my whole family applauded me. I remember the song was, (singing) jambalaya and a crawfish, pie and a file gumbo, because tonight, I'm going to meet my mon cher ami-o (ph). Pick a spot filled with sky and be gay-o (ph). Son of a gun, we're having fun on the bayou.

And I think that's when I got my, (singing) oh, oh, oh - oh, oh, oh.

And then my family just started applauding me. And I was, like, 3 years old. And I said, that's what I want to be the rest of my life. I want to perform.

BIANCULLI: Ronnie Spector speaking to Terry Gross in 1987. More after a break. This is FRESH AIR.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "ALPHABET ST.")

PRINCE: (Singing) Oh, yeah.

BIANCULLI: This is FRESH AIR. Let's get back to Terry's 1987 interview with Ronnie Spector, the singer who rose to fame as the lead singer of The Ronettes. She died last week at age 78.

GROSS: Let's get to more of your recordings with The Ronettes. You first signed with a small label called Colpix Records. And...

SPECTOR: That's right.

GROSS: That - those records never really became hits. How did you sign with Phil Spector, with whom you really recorded your best-known records?

SPECTOR: Well, what we did - we were still with Colpix at the time when we met Phil. And he had my mother go down to Colpix Records and tell them that we didn't want any part of show business. We wanted to go back to school. And we just didn't want to sing anymore. And this was all Phil's plan and my mother - my mother's and Phil's plan to get us on his label. So they released us, Colpix. And naturally, we hadn't had any hits from them. So it wasn't like they were letting go of these big stars, (laughter) you know? We hadn't had any hit records, so it was perfect. And my mother went there one day. And she got them to release us because we were underage. And my mother said, they don't want to sing anymore. And about six months later, we had a No. 1 record. So that's how...

GROSS: Fooled everybody (laughter).

SPECTOR: Yeah. So that's how we got to be with Phil on Philles Records. But that's not how we met him, you see. My sister and myself and my cousin got together one night. And we said, how are we going to meet this Phil Spector? We hear he's the best producer in the world. And my sister said, well, why don't we pretend we're making - we're dialing him. We knew the number to his office. We called his office one day. And we said, hi. We pretended - we said, oh, we're calling for an audition. We're The Ronettes. Her name was Joni (ph), Phil's secretary. She said, well, maybe - I don't know if Phil is auditioning. Da, da, da (ph). Hold on.

So we held on. And next thing we know, Phil was on the phone. And he said, I'd like to meet you girls the next night at Mirror Sound here in New York. And we couldn't believe it. And we did. And yeah, we sat down at the piano at Mirror Sound. And Phil said, sing me some songs that you guys just, you know, know off the radio. And of course, by my loving Frankie Lymon, I started singing "Why Do Fools Fall In Love," "ABC's of Love." And he immediately fell in love with my voice. And he said, that's the voice I've been looking for.

GROSS: Once he started working with you, did he make suggestions to you and The Ronettes about changes he wanted to hear in either the harmonies or the lead vocals?

SPECTOR: No, because first of all, the backgrounds weren't just my sister and my cousin. It was, like - we had about 10 people. There was Cher. There was Sonny. There was Darlene Love. He had, like, 10, 20 - and he would make those - double those voices. So it was - I don't know. It was very complicated in his studio. But it was - watching him work was a miracle to me - watching Phil Spector work in his studio.

GROSS: You both became lovers. Did that add a certain drama to your performances when you worked together?

SPECTOR: It may have. But I guess because I was, you know, performing so much before I met him, I just had that - I loved performing. And I don't think he - by falling in love with him made me any better as far as my singing. I just think he knew what materials to pick out for us, you know, song-wise, like "Be My Baby," "Walking In The Rain." And he was just a great producer.

GROSS: "Walking In The Rain" - we've heard some of "Be My Baby." Is "Walking In The Rain" one of your favorites of the records that you recorded?

SPECTOR: Well, "Be My Baby" is my No. 1. I'll love it forever. And "Walking In The Rain" - I love it, too. Yes, I really do.

GROSS: I love that, too. Why don't we hear a few seconds of it? And then we'll talk some more.

SPECTOR: OK.

GROSS: OK. This is The Ronettes.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "WALKING IN THE RAIN")

THE RONETTES: (Singing) I want him. And I need him. And someday, someway - woah, woah, woah - I'll meet him. He'll be kind of shy, and real good looking, too. And I'll be certain he's my guy by the things he'll like to do, like walking in the rain and wishing on the stars up above and being so in love.

SPECTOR: (Singing) Oh. Oh, oh (laughter).

GROSS: Oh, Ronnie, that sounds great. That's Ronnie Spector singing along...

SPECTOR: I couldn't help it.

GROSS: ...With her record from the 1960s, "Walking In The Rain."

SPECTOR: I couldn't help it, Terry.

GROSS: Oh, it's terrific. You gave up rock 'n' roll for a while when you married Phil Spector.

SPECTOR: That's not the right way to put it (laughter). I didn't give it up. As a matter of fact, I didn't know when I got married that I would never sing again. I thought, as a matter of fact, I would be recording a little bit more and maybe touring a little less. But I had no idea I would never record again or sing again or perform again. I sang again, but I didn't perform again.

GROSS: So it was kind of against your will that...

SPECTOR: Yeah. Yeah, it was something I didn't expect.

GROSS: Well, during that period, did you sing a lot in the house just to keep your voice in shape?

SPECTOR: No, because it was no rock 'n' roll allowed in my house then. It was only classical music played throughout the whole house. And how can I sing to classical music, you know, rock 'n' roll? And I just didn't sing. I just - I would - at night, I'd go to sleep, I remember, and just turn over and just think about being on stage and singing. Occasionally, when I was in the bathroom, in the bathtub, I'd sing songs and stuff, but never too loud because he'd get angry.

GROSS: Yeah. There was no rock 'n' roll because your husband of the time, Phil Spector, didn't want it in the house. When you left that marriage and you left him and you tried to re-enter the music business again, had you lost your bearings for a while? Was it hard for you to find your place? You'd been out of the scene for a while, and you hadn't even been listening to the music for a while.

SPECTOR: Right. No, but I never lost my bearings. I guess it's like riding a bicycle. Once you, you know, learn, once you fall off, you get right back on. And that's how I was with my singing. Of course, it was much tougher. I remember I came back in '74, and I went to Buddah Records. And they auditioned me. They loved me. And a few weeks later, Phil sent them a letter saying that I was still his wife because it took me two years to get a divorce. And immediately, they let me go.

So I had a lot against me because of Phil. You know, people just said, well, we don't want to be bothered with him because he was known for suing people and, you know, making scenes and keeping people in court. And that's basically why I didn't get started as fast as I wanted to, you know, because when I everywhere I went, he sort of like, you know, stuck his two cents in at the time.

GROSS: You recently remarried. And I believe your husband is also your manager.

SPECTOR: Yeah.

GROSS: And I was wondering if you were ever afraid to get involved with a professional relationship that was also an intimate relationship because of how you had been hurt the first time by combining the two.

SPECTOR: I tell you, I wouldn't have never met - first of all, I've been married two years. And I have two kids now, 3 and 4. With Phil, I had kids too. I had three kids, but they were all adopted. But with this particular marriage, I wouldn't have gotten married to this gentleman if I had known. See; I made sure because of my first marriage. I made sure I - because he was managing other people in Broadway shows and stuff. So I - he knew that I loved it. And I knew he loved what he was doing. And I don't think I would have ever gotten married to a man that didn't like my career or didn't have anything to do with it or just didn't want me on stage. So really, I know what you're saying. I would have never married again.

GROSS: Well, I'm glad you're back recording and performing again. It's a pleasure to hear your voice.

SPECTOR: Thank you, Terry. I'm so glad to be back.

GROSS: And I thank you very much for spending some time with us on FRESH AIR.

SPECTOR: Oh, any time.

BIANCULLI: Ronnie Spector spoke with Terry Gross in 1987. The seminal singer of the early rock era died last week. She was 78 years old. After a break, I review "The Gilded Age," the new HBO costume drama series premiering Monday. It's from Julian Fellowes, the creator of the PBS series "Downton Abbey." This is FRESH AIR.

(SOUNDBITE OF DAVID NEWMAN'S "HARD TIMES")

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