Don Cornelius, who died earlier today, apparently by suicide (early reports say “self-inflicted gunshot wound”), was one of the giants of American music, though he never played a note. As a Chicago-radio newsman and d.j. in the sixties, Cornelius maintained a sideline in concert promotion, and when he was offered an opportunity to bring his soul-music package tours (or, if you’d prefer, soul trains) to television, he jumped at it.
“Soul Train” premièred in Chicago, in 1970, and it was a success at once, expanding via syndication to two dozen markets within a year and exposing American television audiences to some of the biggest soul stars of the day: Aretha Franklin, James Brown, Curtis Mayfield, Sly Stone, Charles Wright, Bobby Womack, the Isley Brothers, Gladys Knight. I could go on, because the show did, flourishing for the first half of the decade, weathering disco in the second, and then soldiering on through the eighties and nineties by embracing New Jack Swing and hip-hop without losing sight of its roots. While singers performed (many lip-synched, though some of the most famous, like James Brown, chose to play live), the camera panned across the show’s other major draw, its dancers, many of whom became stars in their own right. The most notable examples were Jeffrey Daniel and Jody Watley; Daniel pioneered the backslide move that, via Michael Jackson, came to be known as the moonwalk; the two of them hit the charts as members of the R&B group Shalamar; and Watley went on to solo success. The VH1 documentary “Soul Train: The Hippest Trip in America,” narrated by Terrence Howard and scored by Questlove, offers a great overview of the program’s evolution.
Cornelius and his smooth baritone were a steadying presence at the show for more than two decades; he hosted until 1993 and remained involved behind the scenes until the show went off the air, in 2006. “Soul Train” remains the longest-running nationally syndicated show in American history. Cornelius was compared to Dick Clark (for the “American Bandstand”-like format of “Soul Train”) and Ed Sullivan (for his dedication to promoting new artists and keeping established artists in the spotlight), but in fact he was without compare: the show upheld the traditions of soul music, and African-American culture in general, through one of the nation’s most vibrant, tumultuous decades. In recent years, Cornelius endured a nasty divorce and suffered through a host of health problems, though he remained proud of his legacy and spoke recently of executive producing a feature film about the history of “Soul Train.” He closed every show with a catchphrase that quickly became an iconic part of American culture, and it seems fitting to revive it here: As always in parting, we wish you love, peace, and soul.
Many “Soul Train” segments are available on YouTube. Below is one of the best: Sly and the Family Stone performing “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Again).”
Photograph by Chris Haston/NBCU Photo Bank.
