Billy Preston
I Wrote a Simple Song

Who among you has never attended—I'm talking about in the cinema or on TV, the luckiest even live—a ceremony in an African American Christian Methodist church? I think none! And I think that once you've seen those images and heard those songs, they have been indelibly fixed in your mind, if only for the vitality they communicate and for that atmosphere so far removed from the religious ceremonies of us Italian Catholic Christians who, at most, rejoice with the resonances between “… Abramo non partire…” and “…born, born to be alive!”

Instead, black people really go for it with organs and Spirituals or, as has been codified for some time, with the Gospel. Which by the way, Gospel in English means Gospel, but nowadays it refers to a series of genres that all originate from the same Afro-American root. However, sacred music, as opposed to secular music, like Soul for example.

Then, "soul music" was born in the early '60s right from the fusion of Gospel and Jazz sounds with Pop song styles thanks to the works of black musicians, including Aretha Franklin, Marvin Gaye, Otis Redding, Sam Cooke, Wilson Pickett, and Stevie Wonder; all people who formed in the church pews singing praises to the Lord and now find themselves proclaiming sensual love in remarkable masterpieces of the new genre, defining its standards.

And, even if today it may seem inadmissible, this dichotomy between sacred and profane has caused serious problems for many artists of those unrepeatable years between the '60s and '70s.

One who paid the price was certainly William Everett Preston, known as Billy, who came into the world on September 2, 1946, in Houston and, at just three years old, set his Lord-anointed fingertips upon the black and white keys of the organ at the historic Victory Baptist Church in South Central Los Angeles, where his mother had meanwhile moved while his father’s tracks had already been lost.

In 1957, thanks to his uncommon musical talents, he played the part of the young W.C. Handy (an American Blues and Jazz musician known as "The Father of the Blues") in the film “St. Louis Blues,” thus becoming one of the first African American "child prodigies" of Hollywood cinema. That same year he appeared on the television program "The Nat King Cole Show" where he sang and played the organ alongside Cole. Young Billy also accompanied the devout Gospel singers Mahalia Jackson and Reverend James Cleveland during their church performances.

At 16, Little Richard invited him to join his band for a tour in England and Germany (where he met the emerging Beatles) and in 1963 he was present as an organist on Sam Cooke's album "Night Beat." Three years later, he met Ray Charles who hired him to play on his hit "Let's Go Get Stoned," and in 1969 he went with The Genius to London, where he reconnected with the Fab Four seven years after their first meeting. And from then on, his life changed dramatically, laying the groundwork for a career that, amidst ups and downs, was sealed with two Grammys and his induction, in 2021, into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

It is undeniable, however, that we all remember him primarily for what he did for the Beatles during the sessions that were later poured into "Abbey Road" and "Let It Be," and for the Rolling Stones, to whom he lent his magical fingers on many of their most successful recordings, including "Sticky Fingers" and "Exile on Main Street."

Yet, even though he was dubbed (yet another) fifth Beatle (the single of "Get Back" reads: "The Beatles with Billy Preston," and this is the only song ever credited to a non-Beatle), the news about the person Billy is scant. As extroverted as the character was on stage, with his wigs, a broad 32-toothed smile always plastered on his face, and his Gospel dances with which he interrupted the remarkable performances on the Hammond B-3 organ during live shows, he was just as shy and reserved about his private affairs due to his poorly lived diversity.

The joyous image that Preston gave of himself in the musical sphere is, in fact, in contrast to his deeply troubled life.

A devoted Christian, Preston had difficulty coming to terms with his own homosexuality, first even denied and then never openly declared. Additionally, as a child, he was a victim of sexual abuse, and as an adult, he was accused of sexual assault on a minor, though the charge was eventually dropped. The story goes that in the early '70s Preston became engaged to model and actress Kathy Silva; one afternoon he returned home and found Silva in bed with his close friend Sly Stone, ending both the engagement and the friendship. According to people close to Preston, the traumatic breakup with Silva only exacerbated his sexual identity issues. With fame and success also came alcohol and cocaine addiction, which by his own admission became a $1,000-a-day habit!

But in those years, the inner turmoil was anesthetized by fame. These were the years when Billy could afford to sign a record contract with Apple Records for which he recorded two moderately successful albums: "That's the Way God Planned It" from 1969 and "Encouraging Words" from 1970: no longer instrumental albums that highlighted his keyboardist talents but completed musical proposals from a complete artist.

After the Apple chapter in 1971, he signed with A&M, for which he released "I Wrote a Simple Song," the album that marked the end of the period of connection with the "Beatles world": all the fabulous guest musicians packed their bags and went home, although Harrison still lingered for some guitar and dobro solo flights, and Quincy Jones was responsible for the string and horn arrangements (which is why the strings never sound unpleasant). The famous Motown session musician David T. Walker is responsible for most of the guitar work but, most of the time, stays in the background in favor of the collective groove that marks the entire work.

The sessions were recorded by Tommy Vicari, a young, inventive, cutting-edge engineer. At that time, it was more about searching for the "sound" with solutions dictated by creativity in the recording studio, as for example, attaching a wallet to the snare drum as described by drummer Manuel Kellough, rather than technology giving this and other albums of the period that extra je ne sais quoi.

We are not talking about a masterpiece, but the pearl "Outa-Space" makes it the work I wish to add to my AAA vinyl collection. Initially released as the B-side of the title track, it became one of Billy's classics: a daring Funk experiment, with plenty of wah-wah and a groove suspended between edgy and wobbly with the rest of the band improvising around Preston's phrasing, both simple and contagious. That said, even though the work on the clavinet makes "Outa-Space" the album's most memorable event, the overall strength of the groove is no less in tracks like "The Bus" or "Should've Known Better."

But, on one hand, Billy seeks a connection with the audience of the moment with blows of funk rock, on the other, he does not forget to be a "spokesman for God" as in "God Is Great" and other Gospel-flavored tracks and, even if aside from "Outa-Space," there are no particularly surprising moments, the whole, also seasoned with Soul and Pop but never cloying, flows well except for the last track: a tearful burst of patriotism ("My Country 'Tis Of Thee") that misses the mark.

In the following years, Preston was a highly sought-after session musician for a wide range of artists and musical genres. His extensive discography includes recordings with Joni Mitchell, Aretha Franklin, George Harrison, Barbra Streisand, Elton John, Peter Frampton, and Neil Diamond.

Towards the end of the '70s his light funk style, however, went out of fashion, and the success of disco music showed him the door: no more sessions with leading artists, no more incendiary live performances, no more record contracts, nothing more. Once out of the loop and with the economic effects of the decline, Preston took off his wigs and mask and showed the world his dark side. He found himself broke and enslaved by addictions, even requesting to be paid in cocaine for a studio session. To close the circle, during his detention for violating probation (which he was serving for cocaine possession), he directed the prison choir and religious services, and it is there that he finally overcame his addictions. Just in time to add to his "bag" of collaborations with Dream Theater, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Whitney Houston, Tool, and J.J. Cale. And in Italy with Jovanotti in "Giovani Jovanotti" from 1990, the one of "Ciao Mamma." But his kidneys were now compromised, and after a transplant in 2002, his health continued to worsen, and on November 21, 2005, he fell into a coma. He passed away on June 6, 2006, in Scottsdale, Arizona.

Billy Preston - vocals, piano, Hammond organ, keyboards

David T. Walker - electric guitar

George Harrison - guitar, Dobro

Manuel Kellough - drums

King Errisson - congas, percussion

Rocky Peoples - tenor saxophone

Carlos Garnette - trumpet

Quincy Jones - string and horn arrangements

Clydie King, Douglas Gibbs, Duane Rogers, Eugene Bryant, Jesse Kirkland, Merry Clayton, Myrna Matthews, Patrice Holloway, Sherrell Atwood, Venetta Fields - backing vocals

Technical

Roland Young - art direction

Jim McCrary - photography

Tommy Vicari – engineer

Side one

"Should Have Known Better" – 2:28

"I Wrote a Simple Song" – 3:28

"John Henry" – 3:15

"Without a Song" – 4:57

"The Bus" – 3:32

Side two

"Outa-Space" – 4:08

"The Looner Tune" – 2:47

"You Done Got Older" – 3:08

"Swing Down Chariot" – 4:13

"God Is Great" – 3:32

"My Country, 'Tis of Thee" – 4:27

Chart US 1972: 32

Chart US R&B 1972: 9