Roots of Rock: Pop hitmaker Dion

TERRY GROSS, HOST:

This is FRESH AIR. I'm Terry Gross. Today, we conclude our archive series, R&B, Rockabilly and Early Rock 'n' Roll, with Allen Toussaint, who we'll hear from later and Dion. If you've ever dismissed Dion as a former teen idol whose talent or relevance didn't survive the oldies era, what you hear today is likely to change your mind. He's a great singer, deeply influenced by the blues and country music. I interviewed him in 2000. He brought his guitar, and we're going to hear him perform some of his own songs and some of the blues and country songs that influenced him.

Dion had his first hit, "I Wonder Why," in 1958, with the doo-wop group the Belmonts, named after Belmont Avenue in the Bronx neighborhood in which they lived. Dion's other hits included "A Teenager In Love," "Where Or When," "Donna The Prima Donna," "Runaround Sue," "The Wanderer" and, later, "Abraham, Martin and John." His fan Bruce Springsteen gave the introduction when Dion was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1989. Dion recorded a couple of Springsteen songs on his album "Deja Nu," which was released in 2000 and was the occasion for our interview. We started with a track from that album, Dion singing Springsteen's "If I Should Fall Behind."

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "IF I SHOULD FALL BEHIND")

DION: (Singing) We said we'd walk together, baby, come what may, that come the twilight, should we lose our way, if as we're walking a hand should slip free, I'll wait for you, and should I fall behind, wait for me. We swore we'd travel, darlin', side by side and we'd help each other stay in stride. But each lover's steps fall so differently. Girl, I'll wait for you. If I should fall behind, wait for me. Now, everyone dreams of a love lasting and true.

(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED NPR CONTENT)

GROSS: Dion, welcome to FRESH AIR.

DION: Good to be here.

GROSS: What's it been like for you finding new material? I think a lot of people, when they think of your songs, they think of the songs you did when you were very young that were some of them very explicitly teenage songs like "Teenager In Love" or even...

DION: Right.

GROSS: ..."The Wanderer." It's a song about - it's a song of a young man who in some ways is real hot stuff. So, I mean, you're not a teenager anymore, and the song that we just heard is a real adult song. Are you - has it been difficult for you to find songs that reach your audience that you like and that are adult songs?

DION: I don't know. Songs, to me, have always been kind of like a diary, you know. Say, when I did "Teenager In Love," maybe I was 16. Those questions in that song, even though it's a very simple song and it seems like kind of claptrap or something, but it's not. To the unknowing ear, it would seem, you know, if you just listen to the surface of it, but it had a lot of heart. It had a lot of soul, and it asks some relevant questions that you could ask today, you know, and songs like "I Wonder Why." It was the first hit record I had. You know, we were - we didn't know how to write lyrics too good, so we invented this kind of percussive rhythmic sound. You know, we'd make up these sounds. We'd go down to the Apollo Theater and hear the horn players, and we'd come back to the neighborhood and give the vocal group - I'd conjure - you know, I'd recruit guys and say, do this, do that, you know. And I'd try to get them to sound like the horn section down at the Apollo Theater.

Like, a song like "Ruby Baby." I would, you know, (strumming guitar, singing ) I got a girl and Ruby is her name. I have to go (singing) Ruby, Ruby, Ruby, baby. It was like (scatting). They were like horns, you know? And all that stuff was arranged, you know - I - the group was a poor man's horn section on the street corners. That's what it was.

Even when I did "Runaround Sue" and they would - (strumming guitar, vocalizing). That was a horn section that I heard at the Apollo Theater. I just brought it back to the streets and gave it to the guys to sing.

GROSS: Let me go back to the beginning with you when you were first listening to music. You wrote in your autobiography that Hank Williams really influenced you early on. When you were a kid growing up in the Bronx, what did you hear in Hank Williams?

DION: Well, Hank Williams seemed, like, so total to me, so committed to the lyric. He would actually rip the ends of the words off at the, you know - the end of the sentence. It sounded like he'd bite into the word and rip it off. You know, he would do like - well, I can't sing like him, but the kind of idea like - the first song I heard him do was like, (strumming guitar, singing) and I let my home down on the rural route, told my pa I was going stepping out and get the honky-tonk blues. Yeah, the honky-tonk blues. Well, oh, I got them. I got the honky-tonk blues.

You know, he'd say (singing) I stopped into every place in town.

And he'd rip the word right off. Like I got it, and there it goes, you know. And he was totally committed physically, lyrically, musically, spiritually just - I just said what's this guy talking about? You know, just - and, see, I had a guy on the streets that really helped me out a lot, too. There was a guy in Bronx, New York City. His name was Willie Green, and he was the superintendent of a tenement building in my neighborhood.

And, you know, basically what I ever - what I do is like Black music filtered through an Italian neighborhood comes out with an attitude - yo. So Willie Green would be playing me all this John Lee Hooker stuff and, you know, Sonny Boy Williamson. And he'd be playing like (strumming guitar, singing) going down to Rosie's stop at Fannie Mae's. Tell my baby what I heard her boyfriend say. Don't start me talking. Oh, lord. Tell everything I know. I'm going break up with signifying. Whoa, lord, Jack. Some people have got to go. Jack gave his wife $5 to go downtown get some.

You know, he'd do stuff like that or (strumming guitar, singing) and I woke up this morning, looking around for my shoes. Some telling me, child, got those walking blues. Yeah. Woke up this morning looking around for my shoes, child. You know, and I'm leaving this morning, child, now, with these walking blues. Some people tell me that they wear blues in bed (ph), [inaudible]. Some people tell me that they wear blues in bed, child, no. [inaudible]. I'm walking, walking blues [inaudible] walking.

You know, he'd do stuff like that. So I'd go into the studio and do the white version of that.

(LAUGHTER)

GROSS: No, really, but it sounds like what I'm hearing from you is that you heard country music through Hank Williams. You heard all these blues recordings.

DION: Right.

GROSS: And what you found was this kind of Bronx version...

DION: And a little doo-wop.

GROSS: Yeah. That - well, that doo-wop was out for you, this really, like, for you, native version of all the music that you were loving.

DION: Right. It kind of...

GROSS: But it was authentic 'cause it was your music. You weren't just doing stuff in the manner of somebody else.

DION: Well, Willie Green, again, the guy who was doing this, he told me - he said, Dion - he said, write about the people in the neighborhood, write about the things you know. And to me, when I looked around my neighborhood, we had characters like Frankie Yunk-Yunk, Joe BB Eyes, Ralphie Mooch. There was a guy in my neighborhood - they called him Shakespeare. He used to say, like, 2B or not to 2B? Which is my apartment?

(LAUGHTER)

DION: I thought I'd get you at that, Terry.

GROSS: (Laughter).

DION: But we had a lot of characters, you know? So - and they seemed bigger than life, like "The Wanderer" - his name was Jackie Burns (ph). He was a sailor who got tattoos all over him, you know? And every time he'd date a girl, he'd get her name tattooed on his body. You know, this guy was like, you know, (singing, playing guitar) Flo on my left arm, Mary on my right. Janie is the girl I'll be with tonight. Little girl asks me which one I love the best. I tear open my shirt. I show her Rosie on my chest. I'm a wanderer. Yeah, I'm the wanderer. I roam around, around, around, around, around. Lay that thing over your neck.

GROSS: (Laughter).

DION: But this guy would walk around with his tank top on with all these names all over. You know, he was like...

GROSS: What did you think of him? Did you like him or...

DION: He was a - he was kind of a loner. He would like - I didn't know him that well, but he just seemed bigger than life 'cause he was older than me and he was in the Navy.

GROSS: Right.

DION: And he would come back and he'd have this kind of - you know, and I kind of featured myself, you know, kind of, like a street corner poet, you know, burnt to the bone with the fire of this new rock 'n' roll music. So I was like, you know, over there saying, what could this guy - you know, like, how can we put this guy to music, you know? And I don't think he ever knew the song was about him. He took off for - I don't even know if he's alive today, but "The Wanderer" is a sad song. It says, I roam from town to town. I go through life without a care. I'm as happy as a clown with my two fists of iron, but I'm going nowhere. It's about a real - a guy who just is stuck in a very kind of shallow lifestyle, you know?

GROSS: Before you started listening to rhythm and blues and blues music and stuff like that, I know when you were 11, you used to sing in a bar in your neighborhood, and it sounded like you were a real local attraction. What did you sing when you were 11?

DION: Ah, yeah. I would do - I knew 70 Hank Williams songs.

GROSS: (Laughter).

DION: Would you believe that? I would even sing his Luke the Drifter series, you know? (Singing, playing guitar) In the world's mighty gallery of pictures hang the scenes that are painted from life.

I was, like, 13 years old.

GROSS: (Laughter).

DION: I thought I was a philosopher. I didn't even know what I was singing about. I sang "Honky Tonk Blues." I sang "Jambalaya." If you - an Italian from the Bronx - I had no idea what jambalaya meant, but it sounded so good and felt so good coming out of my mouth, you know? (Singing, playing guitar) Goodbye, Joe. Me got to go. Me oh my oh.

You know - (singing, playing guitar) Jambalaya, crawfish pie and a file gumbo.

I didn't know what gumbo was.

GROSS: (Laughter).

DION: I knew what rigatoni was.

GROSS: (Laughter).

DION: But gumbo, I had no idea. And, you know, it - I got caught up in this music. And it - I guess it's like anybody else when you get caught up into something, it just took me away.

GROSS: Why don't we pause here and listen to the first Dion and The Belmonts recording, which is "I Wonder Why" with those great harmonies?

DION: That's a good attitude song.

(LAUGHTER)

GROSS: Yeah. Let's hear it. And what year is this, Dion?

DION: This is '57 - beginning.

GROSS: And you were how old?

DION: I was 17.

GROSS: OK, let's hear it.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "I WONDER WHY")

DION AND THE BELMONTS: (Singing) Don't know why I love you like I do. Don't know why I do. Don't know why I love you. Don't know why I care. I just want your love to share. I wonder why I love you like I do. Is it because I think you love me, too? I wonder why I love you like I do, like I do. I told my friends that we would never part. They often said that you would break my heart. I wonder why they think that we will part, we will part. (Vocalizing). When you're with me, I'm sure you're always true.

GROSS: We're listening to my interview with Dion, recorded in 2000. We'll be back with more music and conversation after a break. This is FRESH AIR.

This is FRESH AIR. Let's get back to the interview I recorded with Dion in 2000. He brought his guitar and sang some songs.

(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED NPR CONTENT)

GROSS: There's a song that you wrote on the new CD that I really want to play 'cause I think your singing now is really similar to what it's always been. I don't think - I think some of the material has changed, but I think your singing still has everything in it that you've been talking about - all those influences, the urgency that you've been talking about. So, let me play a song from the new CD. But before I do, I want you to introduce it for us. And this is called "Every Day (That I'm With You)." Tell us about writing this. What inspired it?

DION: Well, this is a story, but I'm going to tell it. The CD is called Deja Nu. And the song that you're about to play - in fact, the whole CD, the whole - all the songs in it are a movie soundtrack for a movie called "The Wanderer" that Chaz Palmernteri wrote a screenplay for. And I was writing these songs for different scenes in the movie. And the movie got bogged down this year, so I just released a CD. But anyway, every song on the CD is written for a certain, you know, piece of the movie. This song was written for a montage scene in the middle of it. I traveled with Buddy Holly and Ritchie Valens on that tour. We were co-headlining a tour. And we were on this little yellow school bus, not one of these luxury line custom-made coaches today. It was just a yellow school bus. We were riding through the Midwest in 1959, February of 1959, and it was cold. It was like 30 below zero. We were freezing. But we really kind of bonded on this tour, Ritchie, Buddy and myself, because we had the first Fender guitars that were issued, these new Stratocasters, and we were in a kind of a competition to see who would make them ring the longest. And two weeks into the tour, Buddy got kind of fed up with the bus breaking down, and he recruit - he was trying to recruit people. He chartered a plane. And he said - 'cause the more people he'd get aboard, the less it would cost. So he said, you know, it'll be $36, he tells me. And he hit the magic number for me.

I grew up with my parents screaming and yelling at each other for the rent in Bronx, New York City, at the time was $36. So my mind hadn't stretched out to that place where I could spend the whole month's rent on a 45-minute plane flight to Fargo, North Dakota. So I said no. So he gives me his guitar. He says, here, he says, you know, take care of my guitar. He says, you better take care of it, you know? So he took his laundry. That's what he wanted to do. He wanted to get a haircut. He wanted to do his laundry. Gives me the guitar to take care of.

So now I'm wondering, I wonder how his guitar sounds compared to mine. So I go in the dressing room, and I take the guitar, I'll plug it in, and I'm saying - I was telling Chaz Palmernteri as he's writing this story around this book, "The Wanderer" that I wrote. And the movie was called "The Wanderer." So he said, you know, we could do a Buddy Holly song here in the movie. Like, it doesn't matter anymore. I said, let me write something. To go through me sitting in the dressing room, playing his guitar and singing with - and while this scene takes place of them leaving us driving to Fargo, arriving the next morning. So this song was written for that scene because I thought I could capture this thing 'cause in my heart, I've always wanted to express this relationship that - you know, that I pondered at times or reflected on at times that I had with Buddy Holly, and it came out in this song.

GROSS: And I just want to say for our listeners who don't know the end of the story that Buddy Holly took this plane that you decided not to take, the plane crashed, killing Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and The Big Bopper.

DION: Right.

GROSS: So - and the other thing is so Chaz Palmernteri's movie is your biography? That's what he's trying...

DION: Yeah. He wrote a screenplay around this - around...

GROSS: Around your biography - autobiography "The Wanderer."

DION: Right.

GROSS: Alright.

DION: So that's what the - this whole album is. It's actually a soundtrack. In fact, I don't think...

GROSS: Soundtrack of your life.

DION: I don't think it would have came out as good if I tried to write songs and put out an album. I kind of did it inadvertently. I kind of backed into it...

GROSS: Right.

DION: ...You know? And it's interesting the way it came out, you know?

GROSS: So, let's hear "Every Day (That I'm With You)." This song that's, I guess, inspired by Buddy Holly and...

DION: Yes.

GROSS: ...About that...

DION: Absolutely.

GROSS: ...Chapter of your life. This is a song written and performed by Dion from his new CD, Deja Nu.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "EVERY DAY (THAT I'M WITH YOU)")

DION: (Singing) Every day, I stare down trouble. Heaven knows it's what I do. Every day, I raise my fist for the struggle. Every day that I'm with you. Every day, I wake up hungry. Yeah, and I try to get my fill. Anyway, it's great big country. Now I've got time to kill.

GROSS: My interview with Dion was recorded in 2000. He turned 86 in July. Last year, he released the album "Girl Friends," featuring duets with female singers. This year, he released the single "New York Minute" and had a new book called "The Rock And Roll Philosopher," a collection of conversations with a friend. After a break, we'll conclude our archive series, R&B, Rockabilly and Early Rock 'n' Roll with Allen Toussaint, the great New Orleans pianist, singer, songwriter and producer. And jazz historian Kevin Whitehead will remember alto saxophonist Art Pepper, who was born 100 years ago today. I'm Terry Gross, and this is FRESH AIR.

(SOUNDBITE OF DION'S "EVERY DAY (THAT I'M WITH YOU)")

TERRY GROSS, HOST:

This is FRESH AIR. I'm Terry Gross. To conclude our archive series R&B, Rockabilly and Early Rock 'n' Roll, we have the interview I recorded with Allen Toussaint, who was in our studio at the piano and sang some of the early hit songs he wrote. Toussaint was an important but mostly behind the scenes figure in New Orleans rhythm and blues during the '50s and '60s, when R&B was shaping the sound of early rock 'n' roll. Early in his career, he was the chief songwriter, producer, arranger and pianist for Minit Records, which at the time was the most important New Orleans record company. He and a partner formed their own label in the '60s.

The songs he wrote and/or arranged and produced include "Working In The Coal Mine," "Mother-In-Law," "Lipstick Traces," "Ruler Of My Heart," It's Raining," "Right Place Wrong Time," "Lady Marmalade," "Yes We Can" and "Southern Nights." Among the musicians he worked with were the Meters, the Rolling Stones, Paul Simon, the Band and Paul McCartney. After stepping out from behind the scenes, Toussaint also became known for his own recordings and performances, including his collaboration with Elvis Costello. Toussaint died in 2015 at the age of 77. I spoke with him in 1988.

(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED NPR CONTENT)

GROSS: Allen Toussaint, welcome back to FRESH AIR.

ALLEN TOUSSAINT: Thank you.

GROSS: I'm going to ask you, I'm going to start with a request (laughter) to play one of the songs - one of the first songs that was a big hit for you that you wrote, "Mother-In-Law"?

TOUSSAINT: Oh, yes, it was one of our very first ones.

GROSS: This was originally recorded by Ernie K-Doe.

TOUSSAINT: Right.

GROSS: Could you play it for us your way?

(PIANO PLAYING)

TOUSSAINT: (Singing) The worst person I know, mother-in-law, mother-in-law. She worries me so, mother-in-law, mother-in-law. Every time I open my mouth, she steps in and tries to put me out. How could she stoop so low? Mother-in-law, mother-in-law. Mother-in-law, mother-in-law. Why, Satan could've been her name, mother-in-law, mother-in-law. To me, they're about the same, mother-in-law, mother-in-law. If she'd leave us alone, we would have a happy home. Sent from down below, mother-in-law, mother-in-law. Mother-in-law, mother-in-law. I come home with my pay, mother-in-law, mother-in-law. She asked me what I made, mother-in-law, mother-in-law. She thinks her advice is a contribution, but if she would leave that would be the solution. And don't come back no more, mother-in-law, mother-in-law, mother-in-law.

GROSS: So how old were you when you wrote that?

TOUSSAINT: Oh, let's see. I guess 21 or 22.

GROSS: Were you married?

TOUSSAINT: Oh, no.

GROSS: Right (laughter).

TOUSSAINT: But mother-in-law was a national joke.

GROSS: That's true. It really was at the time. Things have changed (laughter).

TOUSSAINT: The mother-in-laws themselves weren't national jokes, but most comedians used to use that.

GROSS: That's right. So how did you first start writing songs?

TOUSSAINT: Well, I came up imitating most people that I heard on the radio. I imitated most piano players, of course, and most all kinds of music. And after I would play and become totally saturated with it, I would sit and randomly play around. So little melodies came, and that started my writing.

GROSS: You know, I think two of your influences have been Fats Domino and Professor Longhair, two of the great New Orleans musicians. Do you think that - I mean, I think they can be heard in your style. Would you play something of theirs and tell us how they affected you?

TOUSSAINT: Oh, yes. Well, Professor Longhair, I must say, of the local people - local meaning New Orleans and the New Orleans area - has been the strongest influence on my playing, and even some of my writing, the way I construct certain things. Early Professor Longhair, things like...

(PIANO PLAYING)

TOUSSAINT: When I first heard that as a child, that just knocked me out. And later on, Professor Longhair began to add things to his music like...

(PIANO PLAYING)

TOUSSAINT: Yes, he was very, very important to me.

GROSS: Was it hard to learn that when you were young?

TOUSSAINT: Not hard. It was very, very exciting. Once I heard it, I could get involved. It was just the idea of it, how unique it was to me. It was off the beaten path of most other things that were all generally related in some fashion. But Professor Longhair didn't seem related to anyone else who was out there at the time.

GROSS: Now, I remember one of your early recording sessions was filling in for Fats Domino because his piano track hadn't been laid down yet. You really could play in Fats Domino's style, Professor Longhair's and Ray Charles'. How did you learn how to play like Fats Domino?

TOUSSAINT: Well, Fats Domino was flooding the market. He had so many recordings out. And he discovered a secret to success with triplets.

(PIANO PLAYING)

TOUSSAINT: So as a child, that was - I could immediately hear what that was. And most of his recordings had that in it, except for one, "The Fat Man," which I thought was very exciting. But he never recorded any more like that, which was a very different kind of piano. It was kind of raunchy, like...

(PIANO PLAYING)

TOUSSAINT: Which was wonderful, but he never played like that again except maybe on one other tune. The rest of them was - turned out to be mostly...

(PIANO PLAYING)

TOUSSAINT: Like the one, "I Want You To Know," that I played on it.

GROSS: Right, right, right.

TOUSSAINT: Dave Bartholomew, who knew that I could play like most of the folk that were out at the time, called me in to play on a Fats Domino recording session. We were up to two tracks at that time, so we could do wonderful things. And he called me in to play like Fats would play this song, and I went in and did...

(PIANO PLAYING)

GROSS: That's really great (laughter). My guest, if you're just joining us, is Allen Toussaint. And I should say, you know, I always, you know, whenever I've said your name, one day it would be Toussaint and one day it would be Toussaint. And so I asked you how I should really say it, and you said Toussaint. But your father's side of the family used to say Toussaint?

TOUSSAINT: My father used to say Toussaint without a T on the end.

GROSS: It seems very common for New Orleans families to have different pronunciations of their names.

TOUSSAINT: Oh, yes. Bagneris, Bagneris, yes.

GROSS: We're listening to my 1988 interview with Allen Toussaint. We'll hear more of it after a break. This is FRESH AIR.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "YES WE CAN CAN")

TOUSSAINT: (Singing) Yeah. I know we can make it if we try. Oh, yes, we can. I know we can, can. Yes, we can. Great gosh almighty, yes, we can. I know we can, can.

GROSS: This is FRESH AIR. Let's get back to my 1988 interview with Allen Toussaint, who first made his mark as one of the key songwriters, arrangers and producers in New Orleans R&B of the '50s and '60s.

(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED NPR CONTENT)

GROSS: I'm going to ask you to play another song of yours, a song that you wrote. Maybe do another one of your early hits.

TOUSSAINT: Well, "Lipstick Traces." The guy, Benny Spellman, that sung the bass part on "Mother-In-Law," he didn't know what it was worth at the time we were doing it. But when "Mother-In-Law" came out and sold and went to No. 1, let's say, Benny Spellman that sung the bass part made show that everyone within the sound of his voice got to know that he sung that part. And he would go around - he would gig based on he sung the low part on "Mother-In-Law." And he encouraged me...

GROSS: (Laughter).

TOUSSAINT: ...With much force to write him a song that he could use that concept. And one result of that was this song, "Lipstick Traces."

(PIANO PLAYING)

TOUSSAINT: (Singing) Your pretty brown eyes. You wavy hair. I won't go home no more 'cause you're not there. I've got it bad, like I told you before. I'm so in love with you. Don't leave me no more. Lipstick traces on a cigarette. Every memory lingers with me yet. I've got it bad, like I told you before. I'm so in love with you. Don't leave me no more. Won't you come back home? Won't you come back home? 'Cause I'm crazy about you, can't do without you. Won't you come back home? Lipstick traces on a cigarette. Every memory lingers with me yet. I've got it bad, like I told you before. I'm so in love with you, don't leave me no more, leave me no more. Don't leave me no more, leave me no more. Mother-in-law, mother-in-law. Don't leave me no more.

I guess you can see how that happened.

GROSS: (Laughter) He really owed you one after you wrote that for him.

TOUSSAINT: Oh, thank you.

GROSS: (Laughter) I love it when you can do both parts as you're singing the high part and the low part.

TOUSSAINT: Oh, thank you. Yes.

GROSS: (Laughter) Now, another song you wrote that was a big hit, I guess it was the early '60s, "Working In The Coal Mine."

TOUSSAINT: Oh, yes.

GROSS: Lee Dorsey recorded it?

TOUSSAINT: Lee Dorsey, yes.

GROSS: Now, I remember when I interviewed you a few months back, you explained that you had never been in a coal mine when you wrote this song.

TOUSSAINT: Not only never been, I don't know no one - know anyone who's ever been in a coal mine. And I don't know why that came. Lee Dorsey was a great inspiration for me. When it was time to write for him, I would just sit back and begin to listen to the sound of his voice. And one day, while sitting on St. Philip Street in New Orleans, I heard him saying working in the coal mine, going down, down, down. I have no idea why. But he was a great inspiration. His voice sounded like a smile to me, and I wrote lots of songs for him. Yes.

GROSS: Would you do it for us?

TOUSSAINT: We'll give it a go.

(PIANO PLAYING)

TOUSSAINT: (Singing) Working in the coal mine, going down, down, down. Working in the coal mine, about to slip down. Working in the coal mine, going down, down. Working in the coal mine, about to slip down. Five o'clock in the morning, I'm already up and gone. Lord, I'm so tired. How long can this go on now? Working in the coal mine, going down, down, down. Working in the coal mine, about to slip down. Working in the coal mine, going down, down, down. Working in the coal mine, about to slip down. Of course, I make a little money hauling coal by the ton. But when Saturday rolls around, I'm too tired for having fun. Too tired for fun now. Working in the coal mine, going down, down. Working in the coal mine, about to slip down. Working in the coal mine, going down, down, down. Working in the coal mine, about to slip down. Lord, I'm so tired. How long can this go on?

GROSS: Good, that sounds great. Songwriter, pianist, producer, singer Allen Toussaint is my guest. And I'm going to ask you to do another song. You know, I've been listening to a lot of Irma Thomas lately. She has a new record out. And you wrote some of her early songs. And you wrote a song she sings on her new record, as a matter of fact. I'm going to ask you to sing one of her earlier songs that you wrote for her called "It's Raining." Would you do that?

(PIANO PLAYING)

TOUSSAINT: (Singing) It's raining so hard. Looks like it's going to rain all night. And this is the time I'd love to be holding you tight. I guess I'll have to accept the fact that you're not here. I wish this rain would hurry up and end my dear. I've got the blue so bad, I can hardly catch my breath. And the harder it rains, the worse it gets. This is the time I'd love to be holding you tight, but I guess I'll just go crazy tonight.

GROSS: Is there a story behind writing this song?

TOUSSAINT: Well, with Irma, again, she was sitting right there that day. And it was raining. And Irma was a great inspiration for me. I could write for her all day long, and sometimes I did.

GROSS: (Laughter).

TOUSSAINT: And she was sitting there, and it was raining, and I could see the rain hitting on the windowpane. And it was just perfect, yes.

GROSS: Well, it has really been such a pleasure to hear you play and sing. Thank you so much for joining us, really. Thank you very, very much.

TOUSSAINT: My pleasure.

GROSS: Allen Toussaint recorded in 1988. He died in 2015. He was 77. And with that, we conclude our archive series R&B, Rockabilly and Early Rock 'n' Roll. I hope you enjoyed it. After a break, our jazz historian Kevin Whitehead remembers alto saxophonist Art Pepper, who was born 100 years ago today. This is FRESH AIR.

TERRY GROSS, HOST:

Jazz saxophonist Art Pepper was born 100 years ago today. He started on clarinet at age 9 and debuted on record with Stan Kenton at age 18. Pepper had an intensive and creative alto saxophone style that kept his services in demand, but owing to personal problems, he'd drop out of music from time to time. Then in the '70s, after a long hiatus, Art Pepper came roaring back. Our jazz historian Kevin Whitehead has the details.

(SOUNDBITE OF ART PEPPER'S "MAMBO KOYAMA")

KEVIN WHITEHEAD, BYLINE: Art Pepper's tune "Mambo Koyama" from 1978, when the saxophonist was enjoying one of the great jazz comebacks after 15 years laying low. His return would soon get a further boost from his candid autobiography, "Straight Life." As Pepper tells it there, he was an unloved kid, afraid of everything from closets to clouds, who then discovered two things he loved - music early, and a few years later, the addictive narcotic heroin. In his book, he makes the first time he shot up sound like coming home. Art Pepper, the jazz musician, got early exposure in Stan Kenton's 1940s big band. All the young alto players dug Charlie Parker's fleet brilliance. But Pepper had his own bright tone, warm inflections, skiddery phrasing and floating swing feel.

(SOUNDBITE OF STAN KENTON'S "DYNAFLOW")

WHITEHEAD: Art Pepper on Stan Kenton's "Dynaflow," 1950. Other West Coast leaders sought Pepper out, but he could burn a little hot for LA's new, cool jazz scene. Shorty Rogers showcased him on an arrangement of "Over The Rainbow," which barely contained Pepper's energy and creativity.

(SOUNDBITE OF ART PEPPER'S "OVER THE RAINBOW")

WHITEHEAD: Art Pepper's life could be a mess, but he played with a lot of heart. You really hear it on a pair of stark blues with bassist Ben Tucker from 1956. On "Blues In," Pepper balances elegant lines and woozy splats, as if bearing his internal contradictions.

(SOUNDBITE OF ART PEPPER'S "BLUES IN")

WHITEHEAD: One thing Art Pepper fretted about a lot was that African American colleagues didn't respect him enough, Pepper being white and ever insecure. He was anxious before 1957 record date with Miles Davis' rhythm trio, fearing they'd cop an attitude. But they couldn't have been nicer. And the album "Art Pepper Meets The Rhythm Section" was an instant classic. Pianist Red Garland had suggested "You'd Be So Nice To Come Home To," where Pepper warms up his solo with some thick, slabby low notes.

(SOUNDBITE OF ART PEPPER'S "YOU'D BE SO NICE TO COME HOME TO")

WHITEHEAD: Art Pepper made more fine albums through 1960. Then he didn't make one of his own for 15 years. To be a drug addict was to be an outlaw, and Art did a few stretches in California prisons followed by a stint in a drug rehab program he made sound like jail all over again. But he kept playing and keeping track of new developments. in particular, John Coltrane's way of mixing form and freedom. Comeback Pepper wrote some new style tunes like "Mambo Koyama" and the sleek and streamlined "Landscape."

(SOUNDBITE OF ART PEPPER'S "LANDSCAPE")

WHITEHEAD: The tune "Landscape" was a staple of Art Pepper's last years when he performed and recorded often. I saw him a few times toward the end, and his playing was a marvel, sometimes a bit rougher, but with his old beautifully sculpted phrases and headlong rhythm. Here he is on "Landscape" from a festival set at the Kennedy Center.

(SOUNDBITE OF ART PEPPER'S "LANDSCAPE")

WHITEHEAD: Art Pepper, May 1982, on his final concert. His abused body had been failing, and he died two weeks later. That Pepper made it to age 56 owed much to his wife and co-author Laurie Pepper, who's issued many late period live dates, like the one we just heard on her Widow's Taste label. In the end, the saxophonist got all the acclaim he'd been craving from peers, critics and audiences. Art Pepper's last studio dates were a close listening duo with an African American pianist he bonded with who's still with us, the formidable George Cables. With Art Pepper's final performances, the old outlaw went out in a blaze of glory.

(SOUNDBITE OF ART PEPPER & GEORGE CABLES' "DON'T LET THE SUN CATCH YOU CRYIN'")

GROSS: Kevin Whitehead is the author of "New Dutch Swing," "Why Jazz?" and "Play The Way You Feel."

Tomorrow on FRESH AIR, our guest will be Jane Fonda. At the age of 87, the Academy Award-winning actor is pouring her energy into activism. She'll talk about her decades-long career, how she first began her fitness empire to fund her activist work, and why the first season of the Netflix series "Grace And Frankie" sent her back into therapy. I hope you'll join us. To keep up with what's on the show and get highlights of our interviews, follow us on Instagram at @nprfreshair. FRESH AIR's executive producer is Danny Miller. Our technical director and engineer is Audrey Bentham. Our managing producer is Sam Briger. Our interviews and reviews are produced and edited by Phyllis Myers, Ann Marie Baldonado, Lauren Krenzel, Therese Madden, Monique Nazareth, Thea Chaloner, Susan Nyakundi, Anna Bauman and John Sheehan. Our digital media producer is Molly Seavy-Nesper. Our consulting visual producer is Hope Wilson. Roberta Shorrock directs the show. Our co-host is Tonya Mosley. I'm Terry Gross.

(SOUNDBITE OF ART PEPPER & GEORGE CABLES' "DON'T LET THE SUN CATCH YOU CRYIN'")

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