…Brook Benton.

When I was a kid, I would set the sleep mode on my alarm clock radio to sixty minutes, turn on Power 99 FM, and let the smooth sounds of ‘The Quiet Storm’ send me to sleep.

Like Yacht Rock, Quiet Storm was a fake genre, named after the fact. 

It was copied by hundreds of radio stations around the nation. In addition, Stereogum reviewer Tom Breihan mentioned each faux-genre eleven times in his column. 

While Michael McDonald might be the exemplary vocalist for Yacht Rock…

I would offer Brook Benton for Quiet Storm.

And I’m going to break my self-imposed rule here: because I don’t think we should be discussing “The Boll Weevil Song” when we have one of the 500 best songs of all-time staring us in the face:

Benton was born Benjamin Franklin Peay on September 19, 1931 in South Carolina.

He moved to New York City when he was seventeen and took odd jobs while he sang with a few gospel groups and on demos to get noticed, but didn’t.

They recorded three songs with Okeh Records, with a twenty-one year old Quincy Jones as producer and arranger.

Label executives noticed Peay’s vocals and sought to promote him as a solo artist. Benton’s rich, silky baritone reminded critics of Billy Eckstine, a jazz/pop singer/bandleader who may have impacted the Billboard charts if a controversial photo in Life didn’t show up in a 1950 magazine, with white women hanging on him:

F*** the 1950s.

Although his new moniker was in place, success didn’t come quickly.

Benton found himself instead writing hits for other artists – Clyde McPhatter’s #6 hit “A Lover’s Question” (it’s a 5) and Nat “King” Cole’s #5 “Looking Back” (it’s a 7) were his greatest successes.

In fact, other artists gained success by copying Benton:

Otis loved Benton’s voice. And when he became an A&R executive for Mercury Records, he immediately signed Benton and had him record a number of songs meant for Cole, one of which became Benton’s first top 10 hit:

“It’s Just a Matter of Time” hit #3 (it’s a 5), and another song written for Cole, “Thank You Pretty Baby,” hit #6 the following year (it’s a 4). Arranged by Belford Hendricks, Benton found the genre perfect for his sultry sound, and while his vocals may have worked in doo-wop, there was an important statement made performing with session musicians.

“Historically, black artists wanted to record with strings because it had been something that had been denied them.

“The strings symbolized legitimacy. There weren’t even any black string players working in the studios.

“When we organized Brook’s first date I asked my contractor if there were any black string players. He said, ‘Yes. They’re working in Broadway shows and other pick-up jobs.’ “

“I said, ‘Why don’t they play record dates?’ He said, ‘Nobody calls them.’ I said, ‘If they’re good, I want to see them on my sessions.'”

Clyde Otis

Between these studio musicians, Tin Pan Alley songwriting (interspersed with some Otis/Benton numbers,) and Clyde Otis productions:

Brook Benton had a five-year stretch that was impressive.

(“So Many Ways” is a 6.)

In 1959, Otis brought Dinah Washington over to the Mercury label.

The first album was a success, so Otis paired her and Benton together. It was a risky endeavor, since duets weren’t common in the late 50s.

And the two just clicked…

…but not in a good way.

It didn’t work out – the two were only able to record four songs together before Washington stormed out of the studio.

It sounds like banter, but Dinah was livid with Benton stealing a few of her lines and said so on the records…yet Benton enjoyed getting under her skin.

One night in Chicago Dinah bad-mouthed Benton during a performance while Benton was in the audience. He responded, and as the two went back and forth, Benton attempted to storm the stage and was stopped by Otis and Ray Charles, of all people.

But the bad chemistry worked: “Baby…” hit #5 (it’s a 7), and the “A Rockin’ Good Way” reached #7 (another 7). 

Solo again, Benton recorded a couple of songs that broke from the soulful R&B ballads he’d become known for.

First up was a song he and Otis wrote for Teddy Randazzo in 1957:

Even with the great Milt Hinton on bass, “Kiddio” is only a 4.

“The Boll Weevil Song” was his highest-charting hit on the Billboard Top 100.

It’s a traditional song made famous by Lead Belly in 1934, but sanitized and rearranged by Benton and Otis with the New York Rhythm Section musicians:

It gives off too much “Song of the South” vibes for me – it’s a 2 (Lead Belly’s version is a lot better).

Nashville-trained Shelby Singleton produced it, and after Clyde Otis left Mercury the following year due to financial disagreements Benton worked primarily with Singleton. Together, they would make a ton of Top 100 hits, but only one more Top 10 hit for Benton: 

Written by Leon Carr, country-tinged “Hotel Happiness” reached #3 in 1963, and it’s a 5.

Carr is probably better remembered for some of his advertising jingles, especially this one: 

Until Benton left Mercury in 1965, he recorded less sappy R&B ballads and more country-esque tunes with diminishing returns.

His up-tempo satirical narrative “Hit Record” missed the Top 40, as did his title track from the movie Walk on the Wild Side. Nominated for an Best Original Song Academy Award in 1962, Benton didn’t perform it at the Grammys because that year they had a medley of all nominees, a first, which Robert Goulet sang.

Like many other artists from this time period, Benton’s career took a nosedive with the arrival of The Beatles.

Some made the transition quickly; others never did.

Benton’s career seemed over until 1968, when he signed with Atlantic, who knew what to do with him. Jerry Wexler, father of the term “rhythm and blues”, brought him down South to work with the musicians at Muscle Shoals and return to the luxurious slow jams that made him famous.

It started with a few minor hits, but to come all the way back, Benton needed Swamp Rock pioneer Tony Joe White:

“When I got out of high school, I went down to Marietta, Georgia to live with my sister and get a job.”

“I got a job driving a truck for the highway. Then every time it would rain, I would get to stay home and play my guitar.”

“So I remembered them rainy days and rainy nights down there.”

Tony Joe White

He moved to Texas afterwards, working as a dump truck driver when he overheard Bobbie Gentry’s “Ode to Billie Joe” (a 10), and decided to write songs about life in the South including “Rainy Night in Georgia”, which he included on his first album.

White’s version is raw and local – I feel the pain in his vocals and the loss of his love.

Cornell Dupree’s guitar opens the song, light cymbals fall in, and then Benton takes over. Brook misses his love; it’s cold and raining, and the terrible weather weighs on him heavily…in fact, it feels like it’s raining all over the world.

A few things comfort him, like a guitar and her picture, but neither can stop the rain or the depression. Benton’s trademark ad libs decorate the piece, from his laugh of relief (or is it weeping?) when he places her picture on his chest. The fade out is all Benton.

There are strings, a triangle, and Toots Thielmans’ harmonica to add melancholy to Benton’s vocals, trailing at the end of each verse. By the time the orchestral instrumental hits, I feel like it’s the weight of the world on Benton, not just a cold damp night in Marietta.

In contrast to White’s original, it’s slower and more expansive. I hear pain in White’s vocals, but I feel Benton’s: the weight of the world is on him, crushing him, and his missing love might just be the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

It was Benton’s last trip into the Top 10.

He would only hit the Top 100 three more times, the last in 1971.

The Quiet Storm era began four years later, and newer artists like Teddy Pendergrass, Luther Vandross and Peabo Bryson created new ballads to fill late night urban radio programs in between some classics like “Rainy Night in Georgia”. Yacht Rock never had the opportunity to update its sound.

In the late 80s, newer musical styles developed, and Quiet Storm mixed with hip-hop, new jack swing among other trends. Eventually it became associated with “older generations”, and the younger kids moved towards Slow Jams.

Around that same time, Benton contracted spinal meningitis and his weakened immunity wasn’t able to fight off pneumonia. 

GRADE: 9/10

TRIVIA: Tom mentioned Dinah Washington two times in the column – once, when he covered “Everybody Loves Somebody” which she’d recorded, but she was also performing in New York City and invited a young five-year-old child prodigy onstage to sing with her. That was Patti Austin, and she reached #1 with “Baby, Come to Me” in a duet with James Ingram. (It’s a 6.) 

BONUS BEATS: David Ruffin recorded a version of “Rainy Night” for his 1971 album, but it wasn’t released until 2004. 

(David Ruffin’s highest-charting singles, the 1969 “My Whole World (The Moment You Left Me)” and 1975’s “Walk Away From Love” both peaked at #9. According to the spreadsheet, Tom gave MWW a 9, but I can’t find it in his column. “Walk Away From Love” is a 7. The Temptations had a bunch of songs covered by Tom.)

BONUS BONUS BEATS: Gucci Mane sampled “Rainy Night in Georgia” on the 2008 mixtape track “Georgia”:

(Gucci Mane’s two biggest hits as lead artist, the 2017 Migos collab “I Get The Bag” and the 2018 Bruno Mars/Kodak Black collab “Wake Up In The Sky,” both peaked at #11. As a guest, Gucci will eventually appear in this column.)

BONUS BONUS BONUS BEATS: Randy Crawford ramped up the 1980s cheese with her version that hit #18 in the UK.

(Randy Crawford’s highest-charting single, “Street Life” peaked at #36, which stinks – because it is an amazing song…and brings this column full circle since it was a bonus beat under The Grass Roots.)

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