My Life with Earth, Wind & Fire

by Maurice White

  I guess time will witness what the old folks say, because Mama told me when I was a boy that I would get the world’s attention. She was right.

  35

  When My Final Song Is Sung

  Walk with me, when the stormy nights are cold,

  In your hand lies all control.

  Master, then when my final song is sung,

  With your mercy, I pray that you’ll say well done.

  Help them see the light.

  —“See the Light,” That’s the Way of the World, 1975

  When I was a child, back in Memphis at Rose Hill Baptist Church, people used to get up and “testify” to the goodness of God. The preacher would holler with his hands turned toward the heavens and proclaim, “There can be no testimony without a test.” My life lessons, for the most part, have been about tests. Mother Dear leaving me in Memphis when I was four, the first band quitting, and my Parkinson’s diagnosis were all tests that were foisted upon me. Leaving Mama for Chicago at eighteen, being called back into music through the spirit of Fred Humphrey, leaving the Ramsey Lewis Trio to form Earth, Wind & Fire—those were tests I chose. But all these tests required faith.

  Faith is all about trust. The great paradox of the spiritual life is that the more I control, the less I have to trust. I’ve controlled the things I could—my space in my home, my business affairs—and I’ve even tried to control some relationships. But to lose my physical control would be the ultimate test of my faith. It would take the same energies I had used all my life in this fight to stay positive. But God rewards fighters.

  The positive values in my music are in fact a big part of my life, not because it’s been my life’s work to transmit those values, but because I desperately need those values myself.

  Tonight Earth, Wind & Fire is performing with an orchestra at the Hollywood Bowl. I stand in the wings, listening to the show. It’s rewarding to hear these songs, with orchestral arrangements that were originally recorded decades ago. And I’m appreciating the survival skills of Verdine, Philip, and Ralph. Coming to the end of the song “In the Stone,” Verdine swiftly spins and raises his clenched fist in the air as the music suddenly stops and the crowd cheers. In that split second, I abruptly flash back in time to almost forty years earlier—June 29, 1975, to be exact. On that day, right in this same venue, the Hollywood Bowl, Earth, Wind & Fire was playing a sold-out show for more than 17,000 screaming fans.

  In this vivid flashback I see everything—the iconic white shell of the Hollywood Bowl, the 1975 band, all smiling and shining brightly and cooking a mad groove. Verdine’s shirt is off, and his rhinestone-encrusted bass guitar strap shines against his skinny black body and his white Fender Jazz bass. This mental image is similar to the sketch I drew in 1968 of the Earth, Wind & Fire of my dreams, but the memory is more real, colorful, alive, and vibrant than I could have ever imagined it. Shockingly, I am invisible in this remembrance. I’m not here. Where am I? I miss me.

  A tap on the shoulder startles me. I’ve been awakened from my flashback by my longtime business manager, Art.

  “Are you ready?” he says.

  “I’m always ready,” I say.

  I confidently walk out on the massive Hollywood Bowl stage. My face appears on the Jumbotron, and the crowd cheers, acknowledging my presence. I smile widely and wave to the multiracial, very Southern California audience. Turning to make my exit stage left, I walk past Philip’s percussion setup. I stop, suddenly pick up the drumsticks, and quickly mimic like I’m playing. The crowd explodes with cheers. I laugh broadly at the humor of it all. I lay the drumsticks down, step away, and wave to the fans one last time before turning and walking away, my hand still in the air as I disappear behind the backstage curtain.

  On the forty-five-minute ride back home, I feel good about the power of the music I was so blessed to create. But I also wonder: Why was I absent in my flashback?

  I think now I know why.

  For the majority of my life, I believed that Earth, Wind & Fire was my gift to humanity. Now I believe that Earth, Wind & Fire was humanity’s gift to me. Its music healed me—healed my childhood and the human politics of my skin color. Earth, Wind & Fire also gave me a life passion, a passion that fueled my determination to want to uplift humanity in some way. And I think I did that.

  To the degree that the music just made people feel good, I say amen. To the degree that people heard the words and took them to heart, I say amen to that too. But to my Creator, who guided, energized, and sustained this music, I say a very heartfelt and reverent thank-you. And to the same Creator I will forever be grateful for teaching me, in a cotton field in Osceola, Arkansas, the greatest lesson of them all: that we are immortal, and not to be afraid.

  Afterword

  As this book was being prepared for publication, Maurice White died in his sleep at the age of seventy-four after his long battle with Parkinson’s disease. As his collaborator, my job wasn’t to raise my own voice; it was to channel his. Now that he has made his transition, I want to reflect on our friendship, and how that led me to sculpt the story of one of the greats of American music.

  Early one morning in late 2009, my phone rang. Maurice White was calling. He wanted to see me––that day. In the intimacy of his home, Maurice sat me down and quickly blurted out, “I believe in my visions. For the last two nights, I’ve had very clear dreams that you wrote my book.” He went on to explain that he had gone through two other writers, and according to him, “They didn’t get me.” I hadn’t written any books, but I wrote the liner notes for a few EW&F albums and worked closely with Reece at his Kalimba Productions office in the late 1990s. Flattered, I took the assignment, knowing that, because he was the most private of men, it wouldn’t be easy.

  As a preteen, the first concert I saw was Earth, Wind & Fire’s Spirit tour in 1976 at the coliseum in Richmond, Virginia. After that night I was never the same. I had a blueprint for life—a dual destiny to become a musician and a cool preacher. Maurice always had that preacher thing, whipping up the crowd, “to get an Almighty groove going.” As the son of a great, liberal African American pastor, I related. The songs I grew up on—“Devotion,” “Open Our Eyes,” “Burning Bush,” “Keep Your Head to the Sky”—were essentially secular hymns.

  A decade after my first EW&F concert, I sent Maurice a tape of our band’s music. Amazingly, he dug it. Though he never produced our band, we began a mentor/protégé relationship that went on for twenty-five years. He gave me advice that encompassed art as well as life.

  When we started work on this memoir six months later, I knew how to engage Maurice: Talk music. Talk spirituality. And make sure the talk is deep.

  Reece began calling me late at night. We talked about everything from Christ consciousness to Kahlil Gibran to Muddy Waters to hip-hop culture to Miles Davis. The talk went on for well over two years. I would keep a pad by the bed so I could follow up on these late-night conversations.

  It became evident over time that Maurice respected directness, which was growing between us as our process rolled on. Even though I had known Maurice a long time, he was establishing a trust with me that he seldom showed others. I valued our connection. After I started to interview folks close to him, I heard more than once, “I never knew that about him.”

  Maurice talked about his personal life to others rarely and reluctantly. When we started the heavy lifting of pulling back the layers of his core emotional and psychological motivations, he was slow to reveal his inner thoughts. He was apt to answer a direct question about some major issue with a one-word answer. One day after an interview in which I was more aggressive than usual, he walked me to his door, put his hand on my shoulder, and said, “This book is my last album, you know.”

  His last album. Maurice was so in love with music that he saw the story of his life through the metaphor of song. Sifting through his memories, I discovered that music had rescued him from his lonely Memphis childhood. Music also gave him self-esteem, and eventually a platform
to express the beliefs he cherished most.

  The majority of EW&F’s songs express universal truths, affirmations of optimism and ancient spiritual wisdoms, repudiations of the party life. Maurice also wanted to change the lens through which black music was viewed, and in doing so he created something for everybody, a truly world music. He was proud of his creation, resting assured that he’d given his music everything he had. Drop the needle, and you’ll hear the meticulous blending of pop, soul, Afro-Cuban, jazz, R&B, and world music—rocked and rolled into one. And he made that fusion of sound taste so delicious.

  Maurice, whose first symptoms of Parkinson’s disease appeared three decades ago, never lost his direction or his sense of humor. Early in our collaboration, I played him an old TV interview. I asked, “What do you see when you watch that version of yourself?” His answer came quickly. “A very handsome cat!” We laughed long and hard.

  Born painfully shy, Maurice was a natural introvert. As his Parkinson’s disease progressed, he became even more averse to going out. He’d say, “Thank God I’ve always liked my own company!”

  Reece and I finished this book right before Christmas in 2014. He was pleased with the results, which made me happy. As I was packing up my computer, he stood up, gazed at the beautiful ocean vista from his hilltop home, and said, “You know, my story is really about faith—keeping it in spite of life’s circumstances.” Then, I swear to God, he turned on his little Tivoli radio, and the Ramsey Lewis Trio’s “Wade in the Water” was playing. Maurice had played drums on it in 1966. We looked at each other. He said, “You know that’s a sign.” I just smiled.

  Maurice was definitely not afraid of death. We discussed it often, and he always spoke of it in terms of “going to a better place.” I probably spent more time with him in the last five years of his life than just about anyone. I was honored. In his final years, his mind remained razor sharp, his inner strength as luminous as ever. I learned a lot in those precious days about courage, where true strength comes from, and most of all what it looks like to keep your mind in an atmosphere of faith.

  When I spoke with him a day before his passing, it was business as usual. We talked music and life. His spirits remained high.

  When the call came in the morning that he was gone, although shocked and heartbroken, I said a silent prayer of gratitude for the way this creative man enriched my life. For Maurice’s musical life was a confirmation of the beauty of life itself.

  Herb Powell

  March 1, 2016

  Los Angeles

  Acknowledgments

  I want to begin by thanking the Creator for blessing me in so many ways, and for being a constant presence in my life.

  I extend my gratitude to those musicians who inspired me and my generation: Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Bill Evans, Wynton Kelly, Muddy Waters, Robert Johnson, Sonny Rollins, Cannonball Adderley, Sonny Stitt, Keith Jarrett, Herbie Hancock, Charlie Parker, Thelonious Monk, Duke Ellington, Ahmad Jamal, B. B. King, and especially Ramsey Lewis, who taught me so much.

  Clive Davis, Jim Brown, and Bob Cavallo have earned my gratitude for their guidance and assistance in my career. Quincy Jones has been an inspiration and friend to me as well.

  It has been my great privilege and honor to be a link in the chain of music’s evolution, and I want to acknowledge my appreciation for the other bands, musicians, and singing groups of my generation who brought their own gifts to the world. Especially I want to give my deep appreciation to the members of my band, Earth, Wind & Fire. In particular I thank my brother and copilot Verdine, as well as the collective of Philip Bailey, Larry Dunn, Al McKay, Ralph Johnson, Fred White, Andrew Woolfolk, Johnny Graham, Roland Bautista, Ronnie Laws, Jessica Cleaves, Sonny Emory, and Sheldon Reynolds. Additionally, I thank the Phenix Horns—Louis Satterfield, Don Myrick, Rahmlee Michael Davis, and Michael Harris—and numerous other artists who all contributed their talents to the mix. A special thanks to the Emotions, who added the feminine note to my creations. Thanks to those who kept us going behind the scenes: Art Macnow, Rich Salvato, Geri White, Monte White, Leonard Smith, Frank Scheidbach, Perry Jones, and many others. I also must thank so many talented people who all made creative contributions, among them Charles Stepney, Tom-Tom Washington, Allee Willis, Skip Scarborough, Bill Meyers, Oscar Brashear, Wayne Vaughn, David Foster, Paulinho da Costa, George Faison, Jerry Hey, George Bohanon, and the great George Massenburg. My thanks to our agent Faith Childs and the entire team at HarperCollins—Jonathan Burnham, Tracy Sherrod, and Laura Brown.

  Above all, my deep and sincere thanks to Herb, who kept asking questions, got me to open up about my story, and then put it all together in a way that made sense.

  Of course, I applaud all the fans for supporting the music, coming to the concerts, buying the records, and taking the message of the music into their hearts and minds. Those of you who have gone out of your way to let me know that the music touched you, you have brought so much sunshine into my life.

  And in closing, I want to acknowledge the “young lions” who are taking what we have accomplished and pushing music forward into the future. I hope my story will serve as inspiration and encouragement for them to stay true to their vision, work hard, and always reach for the highest and best they know.

  Maurice White

  May 16, 2015

  Los Angeles

  Herb Powell wishes to thank:

  All praise to God, from whom all blessings flow. My deepest thanks go to my parents, Grady and Bertie Powell, who enveloped me with such a bright love. It forever sustains me, and I love you. Much love to my family: Sandra, Dot, Grady, Eric, Albert, Harvey and Danette, Champ, and Grady III. My work in this book is dedicated to my brothers Grady and Eric.

  Much respect and gratitude to all my close friends, old and new: Hermon “Blues” Maclin, Wayne Linsey, Herb Jordan, Vivian West, Theresa Anderson, Tom and Laureen Mgrdichian, Verdine White, David and Roberta Ritz, Michael Wells, Leo Sacks, Patt Adams, Bill Hampton, Anita Grant, Grant MacDowell, Larry Dunn, Lynne Fiddmont, Dave Stein, Rich Rene, Jesse C. Williams, Frankie Blue, Erin Holvey, Johnny Fobbs, Janine Bell, Bruce Talamon, and Karen Grigsby Bates, the Tuesday-morning cats, and the members of the band Trussel. Thanks to everyone at HarperCollins—Jonathan Burnham, Laura Brown, and especially Tracy Sherrod, for her generous guidance. Much gratitude to Art Macnow and Rich Salvato at Kalimba. To the members of Earth, Wind & Fire, thank you for being such a consecrated gift to my life and to the world—blessings on each and every one of you. Much respect to my agent, Faith Childs, for being a towering lighthouse of integrity, intelligence, and inspiration.

  Lastly, to Maurice, thank you for letting me into your universe. You’ve been mentor, friend, and a beautiful teacher of what it means to have a deep and abiding faith. God bless you.

  Herb Powell

  Permissions

  “Keep Your Head to the Sky.” Written by Maurice White. Copyright © 1973 EMI April Music Inc. Copyright renewed. All rights administered by Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, 424 Church Street, Suite 1200, Nashville, TN 37219. International copyright secured. All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission of Hal Leonard Corporation.

  “Yearnin’ Learnin’.” Written by Maurice White, Charles Stepney, and Philip Bailey. Copyright © 1975 EMI April Music Inc. and Embassy Music Corp. Copyright renewed. All rights on behalf of EMI April Music Inc. Administered by Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, 424 Church Street, Suite 1200, Nashville, TN 37219. International copyright secured. All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission of Hal Leonard Corporation.

  “Devotion.” Written by Maurice White and Philip Bailey. Copyright © 1975 (renewed 2003). EMI April Music Inc. All rights reserved. International copyright secured. Used by permission. Reprinted by permission of Hal Leonard Corporation.

  “Chicago (Chi-Town) Blues.” Written by Maurice White, Jon Lind, Nicky Brown, and Brock Walsh. Copyright © 1993 Cabesaluna Music, Primary Wave Anna, Maurice White Music, WB Music Corp., Big Mystique Music, and the Jonath
an Lind Trust. All rights for Cabesaluna Music, Primary Wave Anna and Maurice White Music administered by BMG Rights Management (US) LLC. All rights for Big Mystique Music and the Jonathan Lind Trust administered worldwide by Kobalt Songs Music Publishing. All rights reserved. Used by permission. Reprinted by permission of Hal Leonard Corporation.

  “Take It to the Sky.” Written by Maurice White, Garry Glenn, and Larry Dunn. Copyright © 1980 EMI April Music Inc., Silver Sun Music, and Cherubim Music. All rights administered by Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, 424 Church Street, Suite 1200, Nashville, TN 37219. International copyright secured. All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission of Hal Leonard Corporation.

  “Kalimba Story.” Written by Maurice White and Verdine White. Copyright © 1975 (renewed 2003). EMI April Music Inc. All rights reserved. International copyright secured. Used by permission. Reprinted by permission of Hal Leonard Corporation.

  “Mighty Mighty.” Written by Maurice White and Verdine White Copyright © 1975 (renewed 2003). EMI April Music Inc. All rights reserved. International copyright secured. Used by permission. Reprinted by permission of Hal Leonard Corporation.

  “Earth, Wind and Fire.” Written by Maurice White and Skip Scarborough. Copyright © 1976 EMI April Music Inc. and Unichappell Music Inc. All rights reserved. International copyright secured. Used by permission. Reprinted by permission of Hal Leonard Corporation.

  “Open Our Eyes.” Written by Leon Lumpkins. Copyright © 1958 Screen Gems–EMI Music Inc. Copyright renewed. All rights administered by Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, 424 Church Street, Suite 1200, Nashville, TN 37219. International copyright secured. All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission of Hal Leonard Corporation.