Remembering Sam Phillips (January 5, 1923 – July 30, 2003)
Born on a farm outside of Florence, Alabama, on January 5, 1923, two of his primary role models were an old blind black man named Silas Payne whom his family took in when he was eleven or twelve years old, and his deaf-mute aunt Emma, from whom as a child he learned to sign and whom he would take care of until her death in 1965.
From Silas Payne he learned the gift of imagination, “that you must have a belief,” as Sam always insisted, “in things that are unknown to you.” From his deaf-mute aunt, whom he considered, even with her handicap, to be one of the most brilliant and accomplished people he knew,
“I just thought, ‘Man, alive, me with a couple of pretty good ears and a couple of eyeballs, there shouldn’t be any limit to what I try - if I set my mind to it.’”
The fundamental lesson was communication, and that was what Sam brought to his work first in radio, then in the recording studio. Sound was the vehicle. Anyone who ever listened to Sam expound upon his boyhood knows that it was sound that carried him away.
In 1951 he made what is widely considered to be the first rock ‘n’ roll record, Ike Turner and Jackie Brenston's “Rocket 88,” and he recorded the artist he still considers the greatest talent with whom he ever worked, Howlin’ Wolf. He recorded B.B. King, Bobby “Blue” Bland, Little Junior Parker, and Rufus Thomas as well, all at the outset of their careers, until, in the summer of 1953, a shy eighteen-year-old kid with sideburns, just graduated from high school, wandered into his studio to make a record “for his mother” – and in hopes that somehow he might get noticed.
Elvis Presley poses with record producer Sam Phillips, Leo Soroka and Robert Johnson at Sun Recording Studios in Memphis, Tennessee on December 4th, 1956.
“He tried not to show it,” said Sam Phillips, “but he felt so inferior. Elvis Presley probably innately was the most introverted person that [ever] came into that studio.”
This Elvis Presley considered himself a ballad singer almost exclusively, but Sam heard something different in his voice. He didn’t discover what it was until almost a year later when he finally summoned Elvis back for a studio try-out with guitarist Scotty Moore and bass player Bill Black. After running through a series of ballads with little success, the three musicians were taking a break when Elvis, perhaps sensing that his opportunity was slipping away, picked up a guitar and started fooling around with an old blues called “That’s All Right Mama.” That was when Sam Phillips’ ears perked up. “What are you doing?” he said. “I don't know,” said Elvis, somewhat abashed. “Well, back up, try to find a place to start, and do it again.”
Source: Memphis Music Hall of Fame
Colin Escott/Michael Ochs Archives
Elvis Presley - Lousiana Hayride - 1954 " That's all right” . . . . the rest was well, you know
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