The Majesty of King Solomon Burke

Occasionally only a cliché will do. When it comes to Solomon Burke, the self-proclaimed King of Rock and Soul who died last month, I’m permitting myself two. Burke was larger than life both literally (he weighed at least 30 stone) and figuratively (dozens of children and grandchildren, a sideline as an undertaker). He’s also testament to that other hackneyed phrase, “They don’t make them like that anymore”.

In a post on the Word Magazine website

the morning Burke’s death at Amsterdam airport was announced, David Hepworth wrote, “He was still out on the road at the age of 70 (though some sources reckon he was five years older). Whichever was the truth the fact remains that these guys knew no other life.” It’s hard to imagine a Justin Timberlake or Dizzee Rascal still slogging around the world in a tour bus as pensioners.

I was fortunate to see Solomon Burke twice in concert. He was so large he had to be wheeled onto the stage before settling down on his sparking golden throne. Those gigs were a cross between old-fashioned variety shows and tent revivals. Dressed in an enormous silver suit and with a ten-piece band that included horn section, a blind organist and his youngest daughter and one of his granddaughters as backing singers behind him, Burke performed sets that combined classics like Everybody Needs Somebody and his cover of Proud Mary, songs from his recent albums by Bob Dylan and Eric Clapton as well as a good smattering of gospel.

Burke was proud of his faith and performed at the Vatican for both Pope John Paul II and Pope Benedict XVI. One of the highlights of Don’t Give Up On Me, the stripped-down album Burke made with Joe Henry in 2002, is a previously unheard Tom Waits song called Diamond In Your Mind. Its original opening lyric goes, “I shook the hand of the president and that guy in Rome…” Solomon was having none of it: “Hold it right there! I have a very, very close relationship to The Vatican.

If I refer to the Pope as ‘that guy in Rome’, I’ll be dead inside a week.” After a lengthy back-and-forth with Waits in which Solomon also took exception to a lyric about a 102-year-old woman who’d stopped praying after losing her arm “in a Pinkerton raid” Burke won and changed the lyrics.

I only delved into his music seriously after I saw Peter Guralnick talking about his wonderful book Sweet Soul Music at an event with Charlie Gillett in 2002. As well as being adamant that Burke was the greatest soul singer that had ever lived Guralnick also shared dozens of anecdotes about the showman he’d got to know well over the years.

My favourite was that in the 60s Burke used to make and sell sandwiches to tourmates like Dionne Warwick and Sam Cooke for $2 a pop. Once they got down South and segregated diners wouldn’t serve these black performers the price rose to five bucks. You’ll hear plenty more great stories in the documentary that’s on BBC Four tonight.

BBC Four - Saturday 6 November:

12am : Solomon Burke - Everybody Needs Somebody

Repeated: BBC Four - Sunday at 115am