The soul of America

There are too many aspects of the American character for any one singer to capture them all. For our confidence and swagger, we could turn to Frank Sinatra. For youthful celebration and desire, Elvis Presley. And for the nation’s heart and soul, we were blessed with Ray Charles.

Charles’ best music taught us so much about shared human emotions and aspirations that it feels far too narrow to think of him only as a musician.

Without question, Charles, who died Thursday at age 73 at his Beverly Hills home, was one of the great pop figures of the last half-century. His distinctive vocal style was synonymous with the word “soul,” and his sense of dynamics as a pianist and bandleader was so much more sophisticated than that of his early pop and R&B; rivals that no one shouted hype when Atlantic Records titled one of his albums “The Genius of Ray Charles.”

Yet Charles’ legacy goes much deeper than the words and music of his recordings. During a creative outburst in the ‘50s and ‘60s that was as revolutionary in its way as Bob Dylan’s transformation of rock, Charles gave us a body of work whose effect was as much sociological as musical. More than merely entertain, he challenged, educated and inspired.

By mixing blues, jazz, country, gospel and pop, Charles not only broke down the often-artificial walls between genres, but also attacked the prejudices of his audience.

More than any other rock artist in the ‘50s, Charles brought a musicianship and command to his hits, including “I’ve Got a Woman” and “This Little Girl of Mine,” that caught the ear of adults who dismissed most rock as trash.

In the ‘60s, Charles brought a new elegance and dimension to country music through such landmark hits as “I Can’t Stop Loving You” and “You Don’t Know Me.” As an African American, he shattered stereotypes in what was America’s whitest pop genre.

Were these breakthroughs part of a personal mission, or simply the result of a musical imagination and spirit so free that it refused to accept boundaries?

Though jazz was an early focus of the musician, it was Charles’ intuitive mix of gospel and blues currents in such ‘50s hits as “This Little Girl of Mine” that thrilled the same teenagers who embraced the raw energy of Little Richard and the sensual urgency of Presley (who was such a Charles fan that he included his own version of “I’ve Got a Woman” on his debut album in 1956).

Charles, however, was too restless and demanding to follow the rock ‘n’ roll path, though it must have been tempting commercially.

Blind since childhood, Charles couldn’t imagine climbing on piano tops to excite audiences, as rock upstart Jerry Lee Lewis did, or limit himself to teen dance tunes, even if his more reserved sensibilities would have allowed him to do so.

Instead, he continued to move forward in jazz and to forge the connection between gospel and R&B; that eventually gave birth to soul music.

Charles’ first masterpiece in the pop arena was 1959’s “What’d I Say (Part 1),” one of the most glorious examples of pop dynamics ever created. It had much of the ambition and shifting musical currents that would later be associated with Phil Spector’s classic “wall of sound” productions, such as the Righteous Brothers’ “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’.”

In “What’d I Say,” Charles mixed such gospel devices as the call-and-response choir with the sensual heat of secular R&B.; With its suggestive grunts and groans, the record was reportedly banned by some radio stations around the country. If the overt sexuality weren’t cushioned by such stylish textures, it probably would have been banned by a lot more.

Charles returned in 1960 with another masterpiece, a rendition of “Georgia on My Mind” that is one of the most absorbing vocal performances in American pop. It was Charles’ first No. 1 single, and to many the launching of the soul genre.

Beyond musical contributions, however, Charles’ work was significant for the way it brought people together regardless of age or race, in the best tradition of the country’s melting-pot ideal.

Of all his talents, Charles’ chief contribution was his singing, which combined the spontaneous fervor of gospel with the more plaintive discipline of the blues and jazz.

Where so many vocalists follow the lyric’s story line as rigidly as a road map, Charles was always making side trips, so you never quite knew what was coming next. To accentuate the emotional subtleties of a song, he would move from a blues-based baritone to a church-inspired falsetto, holding a word here, rushing another one. It was a freedom of expression that made traditional pop singing seemed stodgy and out of date.

And it was a style that would influence thousands of singers, both fellow soul artists such as Sam Cooke, Aretha Franklin, Otis Redding and Al Green and an army of pop, rock and country singers, including Rod Stewart, Willie Nelson, Van Morrison and Norah Jones.

While it might sound right to say that Sinatra sang from his head and Charles from his heart, it’s misleading on both sides. Sinatra’s genius was weaving emotions into cool, disciplined statements. Charles’ was in making even the most complex thought seem effortless, to avoid distracting from the emotion of the song.

What may ultimately prove his most enduring piece of music was his 1972 reworking of “America the Beautiful.”

Recorded amid the racial tensions that still plagued the country, Charles, working with arranger and longtime friend Quincy Jones, divided the song into sections and kept only what he felt were the most pertinent lyrics.

He introduces one section by saying, “You know, when I was in school, we used to sing it something like this, listen here.” He then sings with the sweetness and innocence of a child: “Oh beautiful, for spacious skies / For amber waves of grain....”

Suddenly, though, he begins applying his soulful dynamics. “But now wait a minute, I’m talking about America, sweet America, you know, God done shed his grace on thee.”

He injects a transfixing passion and optimism into the song evoking all that is good about the country. But he’s also determined to make it more than a patriotic, feel-good experience, so there’s a pain and longing in his voice that carries a reminder of the distance between the country’s ideals and its practices.

Few artists have been able to touch us as deeply and consistently as Charles. But then, few artists are such direct links to our heart and soul.

Robert Hilburn, The Times’ pop music critic, can be reached at robert.hilburn@latimes.com.

*

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX)

A musician’s musician

Ray Charles made a lasting impression on a wide cross section of musicians. A sample:

* “I loved him so much that back in 1963, after the Beach Boys got going, we used to do a live version of ‘What’d I Say.’ We did it because we wanted to turn people on to Ray Charles.... So you can just imagine how I felt when, in 1986, Ray sang a version of our song ‘Sail On, Sailor.’ He was so brilliant, and he sang it better than we did.”

-- Brian Wilson

* “The death of Ray Charles is an incredible loss to the world of music. He inspired so many people, and his music will live forever.”

-- Elton John

* “If I get a bee in my bonnet about a musician, they become my hero. That’s still the case, although maybe it doesn’t last quite so long now, but I’ve felt that way about Ray Charles most of my life.”

-- Eric Clapton

* “His sound was stunning. It was the blues, it was R&B;, it was gospel, it was swing, it was all the stuff I was listening to before that but rolled into one amazing, soulful thing.”

-- Van Morrison

who was informed of the news Thursday while onstage

in London, after which he sang

“I Can’t Stop Loving You.”

* “The main thing is [he] just broke down barriers at every level, including the way people thought about the way a song should be interpreted and delivered. From day one, he took every song on a case-by-case situation and said, ‘Here’s what I as Ray Charles want to do with this material,’ without worrying what is conventionally accepted about what is done with that sort of material.”

-- Dan Cooper

former content curator for the Country Music Hall of Fame

*

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX)

Ray Charles on CD

For the mainstream pop fan, the best way to sample Ray Charles’ recordings is to start with one of several excellent boxed sets.

“Genius & Soul: The 50th Anniversary Collection” (Rhino). This six-hour, five-disc package is the ultimate Charles collection because it brings together his best work from various labels, from the jazz, R&B; and rock gems on Atlantic in the ‘50s and early ‘60s through the country and soul of his ABC-Paramount period to assorted tracks since then. Marvelous.

“The Birth of Soul: The Complete Atlantic Rhythm & Blues Recordings 1952-1959” (Atlantic). This more modest, three-disc set focuses on the R&B; material, including “I’ve Got a Woman” and “What’d I Say (Part 1),” that established Charles as one of pop’s most vital new artists.

“Ultimate Hits Collection” (Rhino). If you want to cut to the chase and get the songs that are most commonly associated with Charles, this is your best bet. Like “Genius & Soul,” it draws material from various labels, offering the R&B; energy of “Hallelujah I Love Her So,” the soulful strains of “Georgia on My Mind” and the country sentiments of “You Are My Sunshine” and the Willie Nelson duet “Seven Spanish Angels.”

Beyond these sets, there are several individual albums of note, with virtually everything on Atlantic and the two volumes of “Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music” on ABC-Paramount especially valuable.

-- Robert Hilburn