floyd soileau in office of ville platte store, 1990 the ... · enough to run into harry simoneaux,...

12 | B L U E S R A G | F E B R U A R Y 2 0 1 9 | M O J O W O R K I N . C O M

THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS

CELEBRATING

FLOYD SOILEAUPART I: LOOKING BACK

Floyd Soileau in office of Ville Platte store, 1990

M O J O W O R K I N . C O M | F E B R U A R Y 2 0 1 9 | B L U E S R A G | 13

When I first visited Louisiana in 1980, there were at least six major record producers, or former producers, left in the southwest of the state. Eddie Shuler of Goldband in Lake Charles, George Khoury of Khoury’s also in Lake Charles, Lee Lavergne of Lanor in Church Point, Carol Rachou of La Louisianne in Lafayette, J.D. Miller in Crowley, and Floyd Soileau, the youngest of the group. They were all singles oriented and in their heydays quite prolific, releasing scores of regional platters, be it R&B, blues, C&W, Cajun, zydeco, or that hybrid indigenous to this area, Swamp Pop.

And just what was this popu-lar musical idiom, Swamp Pop, that so dominated this terrain stretching from the Big Easy all the way to the Houston, TX? A few years back, I was lucky

enough to run into Harry Simoneaux, Bobby Charles’ celebrated saxophonist, who as member of his Cardinals, blew the solo in Charles’ original 1955 hit, “Later Alligator (Chess 1609).” Having been around at Swamp Pop’s inception, he could speak with author-ity about the topic. “Well, it’s sort of a combination of [Fats] Domino and fais do-do,” he claimed. The “Domino” plain-ly implies New Orleans R&B, while “fais do-do” refers to the Cajun two-step or dance, a term which originates from the phrase, “faire dormir”---(loosely translated) or “Put the kids to bed so we can party.” This “fais do-do” or quick waltz tempo manifests itself musically in triplets behind a solid R&B backbeat and often lends to the song a kind of swirling effect. And according to most crit-

ics, Dr. John (Mac Rebbenack), without ever giving it a name, further characterizes this mode of music. In the liner notes of his 1972 Atco album, Gumbo, this gifted native son of New Orleans commented upon Earl King’s “Those Lonely, Lonely Nights (Ace #509)”—King’s first in a series of this style of music on Johnny Vincent’s Jackson, MS-based imprint. “It’s the classic South Louisiana two-chord, E-flat, B-flat,” he said.

Of this illustrious sextet of record men, two had retired at the time of my first trip; Khoury still tenaciously tend-ing to his record store; whereas Rachou was about to hand over the reins of his outfit to son, David, also a recording engi-neer. But all of these provincial producers had one deficiency in common---whenever they created a record that became

“too hot to handle,” they had to make a deal with a distributor, some arrangement so that the disk could find a national mar-ket. And all enjoyed at least one best seller in their catalogues. George Khoury could boast of the perhaps the greatest coup among them (#2, Top 100) when his protégé, Phil Phillips (Baptiste), authored the often sampled “Sea of Love (Khoury’s #711),” but only after Khoury had leased the prodigious platter to Mercury (#71465) in 1959. Just the year before, in like man-ner to increase sales, he came to a compromise with Judd Phillips (Sam Phillips’ broth-er) and Judd records (#1002) (a subsidiary of Bill Lowery’s Atlanta-headquartered NRC records) to issue the classic Swamp Pop exemplar, Cookie (Terry Clinton) & Cupcakes’ “Ma th i l d a .” O r i g i n a l l y Khoury’s #703, it climbed to #47 on the R&B charts. And just around the corner from Khoury’s 328 Railroad Avenue address was that of Eddie Shuler and Goldband at 313 Church St, a sprawling complex which housed a studio that Khoury also utilized. And Shuler, too, was no stranger to success. During the 50s, he had roster full of rock and rollers like Gene Terry, Al Ferrier, Ray Vict, Larry Hart, and Johnny Jano, who all were steady sellers and quite popu-lar; yet, it seemed Shuler was content in letting their records run their course. Along the way, he recorded one of the earliest zydeco standards, “Paper in my Shoe,” by local Boozoo Chavis on his Folk-Star (#1197) aux-iliary. When it took off, Shuler made an agreement with Lewis Chudd’s independent Imperial records (#5374) in 1956, a Los Angeles-based label which had had a ubiquitous presence in Louisiana, especially in New Orleans. Later in 1961, he also

STORY & PHOTOS BY LARRY BENICEWICZ

I ORIGINALLY HAD THE INTENTION of merely reviewing the newly reissued CD of

Lafayette’s heralded Warren Storm, but then I real-ized that this essay was as much about the producer of this album as the artist, himself. Floyd Soileau is still head honcho of JIN records of Ville Platte, LA, en Francais “Flat Town,” the hamlet twenty or so miles northwest of Opelousas on US 167 and capi-tal of the “prairie Cajuns.” Mr. Soileau, in fact, had passed two milestones recently, his 80th birthday and the sixtieth anniversary of the inauguration of this label, named for his fiancé (now his wife). In a recent interview, he wistfully reminisced about the “good ole days” in Louisiana when the 45 rpm was king and, with a little juke box play and a boost over local air waves, he could “break” a highly requested record. It seemed all so very simple back then.


availed himself of NRC records for distribution purposes after the Cajun/rock song “Sugar Bee (Goldband, #1106)” by Cleveland Crochet created quite a stir in Acadiana. It climbed to #80 on the pop 100.

Church Point’s Lee Lavergne, beginning in 1960 had a string of regional hits, including those of Elton and the Eltradors, sax-ophonist, Duke Stevens, and Bill Matte’s contagious Cajun novelty number “Parlez-Vous L’Francais (Lanor #503),” but, early on, the artist with the most potential was Elton Anderson, an R&B stylist, who, too, had recorded for and charted with “Secret of Love” on Mercury (#71542) in 1960 via Eddie and son, Wayne Shuler. In 1963, his cover of King Karl’s “Life Problem” and its flip, Chris Kenner’s “Sick and Tired (Lanor #509),” attracted the interest of another major, Capitol, which issued it as #4762. It’s probably safe to say that Lavergne proba-bly had his greatest impact over-seas when in the 80s, after sign-ing on with Zane records of the UK run by Peter Thompson, he made stars of zydeco accordion-ists Beau Jocque (Andrus Espre), Roy Carrier, and Joe Walker.

Moving on to Crowley, LA, record producer J.D. Miller clearly knew his limitations as far as handling any tunes of national consequence. In the early 50s, he had oper-ated his own Feature label and later Rocko and Zynn. He was astute enough to establish two major Nashville connec-tions—first he’d pass on many of his C&W and Cajun art-ists—Wiley Barkdull, Rusty & Doug (Kershaw), and Al Terry (Theriot) to Hickory records founded in 1954 by Acuff-Rose Music, BMI (with prin-cipals, writer/talent scout, Fred Rose, and singer, Roy Acuff). As far as his stable of R&B and blues luminaries was con-cerned, many upon whom he bestowed their colorful nick-

names—Lazy Lester (Leslie Johnson), Lonesome Sundown (Cornelius Green), Lightnin’ Slim (Otis Hicks), Carol Fran, Leroy Washington, Guitar Gable (Gabriel Perrodin), Whispering (Moses) Smith, Slim Harpo (James Moore), etc.---he wrangled a lease agreement with Ernie Young of Nashboro records and his subsidiary, Excello. Although Miller had agreed to surrender the pub-lishing, Excellorec Music BMI, in return for the distribution, he often would insert his pseud-onym, James West, in order to receive a portion of the writer’s credit. This turned out to be a lucrative accord for both Miller and Young, since the latter, who owned Ernie’s Record Mart, would have pioneering disk jockeys like Bill “Hoss” Allen, John R (Richbourg), and Gene Nobles plug these records at night over Nashville’s WLAC, a 50,000 watt clear channel pow-erhouse which could reach an audience of perhaps a third of the United States. And Miller, during his decade and a half or so association with Young (1955-1968), proved to be a reliable source of R&B efforts, especially with Slim Harpo, who contributed all along his share of notable performances---“I’m A King Bee (Excello #2113),” “Rainin’ In My Heart (#2194),” “Baby Scratch My Back (#2273),” “Tip On In Pt 1 (#2285),” and “Te-ni-nee-nu (#2294).” Moreover, Miller had a hot item on his hands in 1958 when he recorded Cajun drum-mer Warren Storm’s version of the “Prisoner’s Song,” which rose to #83 on the national Top 100 when leased to Young’s pop logo, Nasco (#6015). Miller in 1970 would launch his Blues Unlimited label and in the 80s, Master-Track to accommodate local blues, R&B, Swamp Pop, and zydeco offerings---record-ings mostly destined to juke box play.

Carol Rachou, formerly a

FLOYD SOILEAUC O N T I N U E D

Boozoo at Slim’s Yi-Ki Ki Club, 1992

Rod Bernard, 1990


big band leader, founded his La Louisianne label in Lafayette in 1959. He was the propri-etor of the Music Mart record store there and also built a small studio at 2823 Johnston St in which was famously recorded a #1 megahit, Dale(Houston) &Grace (Broussard)’s rendi-tion of Don and Dewey’s “I’m Leaving It All Up to You” on Baton Rouge’s Sam Montalbano’s Montel imprint (#921). Generally speak-ing, Rachou was most con-cerned with recording Cajun music or Cajun humor (Bud Fletcher). In fact, his most sig-nificant accomplishment was Cajun/C&W singer, Jimmy C. Newman’s “Lache Pas La Patate (#8139)”—“Don’t Drop the Potato”--- a huge remunera-tive bonanza in French speak-ing Canada and which earned a gold record. But he, like his counterpart in Church Point, never was able to crack the national Top 100 and, ironical-ly, had most of his commercial success with blue-eyed soul or R&B artists, like Lil Bob and the Lollipops, who in 1966 enjoyed a double sided hit in the area with his rollicking “I Got

Loaded”/“Nobody But You (#1067),” which, oddly enough, was never considered as having country-wide implications. Lil Bob (Camille Bob) did receive a substantial windfall in royalties when “I Got Loaded” was cov-ered by Los Lobos and added to the soundtrack of the 1988 cinematic release, Bull Durham, starring Kevin Costner as a washed up minor league base-ball player.

In 1963 Rachou first flirt-ed with the Top 40 when he released Jewell (Douglas) & Rubies’ “Kidnapper (#8041),” which was proffered to major ABC-Paramount, becoming #10485. Although a number much in demand, it proved to be a near miss and now has acquired the status of a trea-sured collector’s item. Rachou also recorded two former Boogie Kings (a large, popu-lar, ever evolving blue-eyed soul aggregate) alumni, drum-mer Bert Miller, and trumpeter G.G. Shinn (Gee Gee on the label). In the late 60s, Shinn’s “Come on Over (#8122)” had enough promise to pique the interest of Harold Lipsius, a principal and talent scout for

Jamie/Guyden or J/G records, an independent logo based in Philadelphia. Lipsius was instru-mental in distributing material recorded by East Texas produc-er, Huey Meaux, and in the past had a hand in some renowned smashes, including Barbara Lynn’s “You’ll Lose A Good Thing (Jamie #1220)” in 1962 and Tommy McLain’s “Sweet Dreams (MSL #197)” in 1966. Nonetheless, in this instance, Lipsius’ intercession worked no magic, as the disk failed to catch on with the buying public.

Interestingly enough, one of Rachou’s artists, who worked both in his record store and stu-dio, the latter as writer, arranger, and producer, Eddie Raven (born Eddie Futch), became a C&W superstar in the 80s after being introduced to Acuff-Rose in Nashville by the afore-mentioned Newman. Signed to such labels as Elektra, RCA, and Universal, he thereafter became a dependable hit maker and this is not to mention his impressive ability as first-rate composer for

other Music City singers. Floyd Soileau also had to

depend on the kindness (or less noble intentions) of strangers, so to speak, to get his product out to a wider audience. And in his case, things couldn’t have started more auspiciously. Born on November 2, 1938 in Ville Platte, he commenced his asso-ciation with the music he so cherished when he assumed the duties of a French speak-ing disk jockey on local station KVPI (1050 AM) while still in his late teens. His other part-time job, however, working at a family record store, would soon progress into a full time affair in order to cater to the demands of a public hungry for Cajun music. Recognizing the need to record the plethora of latent tal-ent in the vicinity, he arranged to set up a modest, rudimentary one-track studio for just such a purpose. The year was 1956.

Having always been infatu-ated with the logo of RCA’s affiliate, Bluebird, Floyd chris-tened his new label “Swallow,”

Floyd Soileau also had to depend on the kindness (or less noble intentions) of strangers, so to speak, to get his product out to a wider audience.

from left: Eddie Shuler and engineer Bert Frilot, 1995


which was also a convenient pun on the pronunciation of his surname. And it’s probably safe to say that during the long life of this label, Soileau probably recorded any Cajun performer of note, including Dewey Balfa, Nathan Abshire, the Touchet Bros., Jo-el Sonnier, Lawrence Walker, and Belton Richard, just to name a few. But with the emergence of rock and roll and rhythm and blues, he found that he had to create another trademark to accommodate the artists of these persuasions and not confuse the customers. The non-Cajun personnel would therefore appear on JIN. In 1968, to further differentiate the soul, R&B, and zydeco acts, he established the Maison de Soul imprint with such figures as locals, Al Prince, Donnie Jacobs, J.J. Caillier, Morris Francis, and Chuck Martin. And eventu-ally, just about every zydeco band in the area came aboard, including Rockin’ Dopsie (Alton Rubin), Major Handy, Buckwheat Zydeco (Stanley Dural), John Delafose, Clifton Chenier, Nathan (Williams) & the Zydeco Cha-Chas, the Sam Bros. Five, L.C. Donatto, Boozoo Chavis, and Rockin’ Sidney (Simien). But even artists from Baton Rouge, like Tabby Thomas, and New Orleans joined the roster at one point or

another, like the Olympia Brass Band, Earl King, and Walter “Wolfman” Washington.

With an outlet in the ter-ritory with which to promote new groups, Soileau found that musicians were flocking to Floyd’s (record shop) for an audition. Among those early aspirants to national promi-nence was a skinny kid from Opelousas, Rod Bernard, who appropriated a tune in the Swamp Pop vein from local Excello bluesman, King Karl (Bernard Jolivette), whose band included Guitar Gable. When “This Should Go on Forever (JIN #105)” was released after having been recorded in Crowley, Mr. Soileau, at the ten-der age of twenty, had a block-buster on his hands. And then he had to cope with finding the optimal distribution net-work for this eventual million seller. The platter was ultimately leased to the Chess brothers of Chicago, who assigned it to their Argo (#5327) subsidiary. And the record was so mam-moth (attaining #20 on the Top I00) that it prompted a national tour on Bernard’s part with stops at Dick Clark’s American Bandstand in Philadelphia and the Buddy Deane Show here in Baltimore. But Floyd Soileau would still have two more brushes with the big time that


George Khoury, 1993

Khoury’s Record Shop, Lake Charles, LA, 1994


same year. Rayne, LA, native, Johnnie Allan (Guillot) recorded another now classic Swamp Pop number, “Lonely Days, Lonely Nights (JIN #111),” with his band, the Krazy Kats, which cre-ated quite a buzz in the vicin-ity. Soileau, hoping for another Bernard reprise, leased the tune to major MGM (#12799). As a result, it just bubbled under the national Top 100. Not long after, future record producer, the late Huey Meaux (1929-2011), of Kaplan, LA, had moved over to Port Arthur, TX, wherein he had a one-hour radio program on station KPAC entitled “The Crazy Cajun Show.” To make a long story short, a young oil refinery worker, Jivin’ Gene Bourgeois, came by with some original compositions implor-

ing Meaux to record his band, the Jokers. After taping a crude demo, Meaux brought him over to Soileau and they put out a record, “Going Out with the Tide (Jin #109),” which sold moderately in the area. However, the next try, also recorded at J.D. Miller’s studio in Crowley, “Breakin’ Up Is Hard to Do (JIN #116),”again proved to be a winner. And Meaux and Soileau made a deal with Bill Hall and Mercury records, wherein Hall would receive the publishing royalties (Big Bopper Music, BMI). Then, with the impetus of a major record label, the song (not the Neil Sedaka number) ascended to #69 on the national Top 100.

At the outset, Mr. Soileau also dabbled in rock and roll, and

relished the rewards of a local smash when he recorded Red Smiley (actually Bob Shurley) & the Vel-tones’ “Take a Ride (JIN #107)” also in Miller’s stu-dio in Crowley. Aside from its commercial promise, the disk was notable in that it introduced drummer and vocalist, Clint

West, to a listening audience. West, born Clinton Guillory (he borrowed his wife’s maiden name), in nearby Vidrine, LA, would go on to fame as leader of the aforementioned Boogie Kings and become a mainstay of JIN throughout the 60s.

In the early 60s, Mr. Soileau

It’s probably safe to say that during the long life of this label, Soileau probably recorded any Cajun performer of note.

Tommy McLain, Lafayette, 1992


recorded a whole assortment of Swamp Pop exemplars includ-ing Rockin’ Dave Allen, Phil Bo (Boudreaux), Prince Charles (Fontenot), and Billy Lewis, all of whom enjoyed a modicum of local glory. But it wasn’t until Joe Barry (b. Barrios) of from Cut Off, LA, came around that Floyd Soileau again visited the national charts. In 1961, Barry with his heavy, thick Cajun accents a la Fats Domino, recorded Ted Daffan’s “I’m A Fool to Care (JIN #144).” After being taped in New Orleans at renowned engineer, Cosimo Matassa’s studio on Governor Nicholls St in the French Quarter, the platter, in today’s parlance went viral and eventu-ally found its way via Hall again on Mercury’s new subsidiary, Smash records, zooming up to #24 on the national charts (#1702). And its follow-up, a Swamp Pop rendition of the Sons of the Pioneers’ “Teardrops in My Heart” (JIN #152) and (Smash #1710), fared nearly as

well as the former, climbing to #63 in August of the same year.

By 1966, Mr. Soileau again had in his possession another monster disk with which to contend. And its provenance is indeed a long and compli-cated tale. Suffice it to say that the singer, Jonesville, LA, born, Tommy McLain, bassist for the Boogie Kings, recorded a soul-ful version of Don Gibson’s “Sweet Dreams” at Floyd’s now two track studio wherein he was backed by his sterling sidemen, including Clint West on drums and Johnny Giordano on key-boards. Released as JIN #197, it soon was making quite a bit of noise throughout Acadiana, mainly because of juke box play. To make a long story short, it was proffered to the aforemen-tioned Huey Meaux, who was also involved in the Joe Barry affair. By then, Meaux who not only had produced big sellers for other record men (notably “Treat Her Right” for Don Robey’s Back Beat, #546, 1965)

but also a host of hits with a slew of his own labels. These includ-ed Eric in which Big Sambo (James Young) scored with “The Rains Came (#7003)” in 1962; Teardrop with Jimmy

Donley and Sunny (Ozuna) & the Sunliners, who charted with a cover of Little Willie John’s “Talk to Me (#3014)” in 1963; Tribe, whose Tex-Mex Sir Douglas Quintet (with Doug Sahm on vocals and Augie Meyers on organ) struck it rich with “She’s About A Mover (#8308)” in 1965; Crazy Cajun, which had contracted the great Clifton Chenier; and Jet Stream, whose roster included Johnny Copeland and T-Bone Walker. The crafty, ambitious, and ever opportunistic Meaux, who, at that juncture had studios in Pasadena, TX, and Clinton, MS, and connections to the London and Atco labels, also saw poten-tial in the platter and accom-modated Soileau. Quickly, he initiated a partnership with yet a third party, the aforemen-tioned Harold Lipsius of Jamie/Guyden with whom he had sim-ilarly collaborated with Barbara Lynn. Using the same JIN cata-logue number, “Sweet Dreams,” the record (MSL #197—Meaux, Soileau, Lipsius), soared


J.D. Miller, 1988

Clint West, Swampwater’s Club, Lafayette, 1998


to #15 on the Billboard Hot Hundred and actually outsold Patsy Cline’s rendition (Decca #31483) of 1963. And McLain, try as he might for a follow up, authored quite a few well received numbers, including a cover of Ray Charles’ “Sticks and Stones (#226)” and Fats Domino’s “Before I Grow Too Old (#229),” written by Bobby Charles (Guidry), but could never duplicate the impact of his first JIN attempt.

Nonetheless, Floyd Soileau during his long tenure as head of JIN also had his share of world-wide wonders and pro-duced some remarkable record-ings of every species. In 1972, Pat Savant, the precocious accordionist of the ongoing Cajun band, The Sundown Playboys, managed to convince Tony King of Apple records, the same Beatles label, to acquire

its “Saturday Night Special.” Releasing it as Apple #1852, Soileau found that he was the recipient of a major and com-pletely unexpected global nov-elty smash.

Not long after this unfore-seen marvel, Mr. Soileau was pleasantly surpr ised by yet another Swallow or JIN record-

ing which would take the UK and eventually Western Europe by storm. In 1974, Soileau had leased to Charlie Gillette of London-based Oval records a series of masters of one of his Swamp Pop stalwarts, the aforementioned Johnnie Allan. Gillette, who selected certain tracks, thereafter issued a compi-

lation entitled Another Saturday Night (#3001), but was espe-cially enamored with one of its cuts, a highly spirited rendition of Chuck Berry’s “Promised Land,” featuring a stirring accor-dion break by the legendary Cajun, Belton Richard. After some airplay (Oval #1001), the single immediately took off and Gillette inquired whether Allan could come “over the pond” to promote it. But, unfortu-nately, the Lafayette Parish School Board for whom Allan toiled as schoolmaster refused to grant him a leave of absence. Furthermore, six weeks after “Promised Land” was released, Elvis Presley covered the tune (RCA #10074), which put a significant dent in the former’s sales. Still undaunted, Gillette had so much faith in the record that in 1978 he approached Dave Robinson of England’s Stiff records (the Damned, Ian Dury, Elvis Costello, etc.) urg-ing him to re-release the record, a request to which he gladly assented. As a result of this col-laboration, the original record became Oval/Stiff (Cou-B-Lot

1) and again shot up the UK charts, eventually landing in the British Top Ten. Allan was flown to England during a week-long Easter vacation for a whirlwind tour in which he was warmly embraced by Swamp Pop fans dur ing every engagement, including such UK rock stars as Dave Edmunds, Nick Lowe, and Wilko Johnson of the band, Dr. Feelgood. In fact, “Promised Land” proved so durable a hit that it finally earned a certified gold record award in 1995.

In 1984, Mr. Soileau was again unprepared for the mag-nitude of a recording that came like a bolt out of the blue. A former charter member of JIN, Rockin’ Sidney Simien (also spelled Semien), who actually released nine singles at “Flat Town” from the period 1958-64, delivered what was to be a stun-ner of epic proportions. Simien (1938-1998) was first and fore-most a blues guitarist, even after moving over to Lake Charles in 1964 and then recording the same number of 45’s for Eddie Shuler’s Goldband. At his resi-dence at 2112 Elder St in Lake

Beau Jocque at Richard’s

Floyd Soileau during his long tenure as head of JIN also had his share of world-wide wonders and produced some remarkable recordings of every species.


Charles, he converted one of the bedrooms into a makeshift studio and began cutting demos which he first released on his own label, Bold, using Shuler’s publishing company of Tek. But as his career foundered in the 70s, it was Shuler who sug-gested a drastic makeover--- by reinventing himself as a zydeco accordionist. In the late 70s, Simien’s new departure was marked by a new label, Bally Hoo, and a new publishing com-pany, Sid Sim. Almost immedi-ately, he made a big splash in the area with one of his first releases, “Louisiana Creole Man (#1013).” And thereafter signed a lease agreement with Soileau whereby the latter would dis-tribute his undertakings on the aforementioned Maison de Soul label, and, in return, share the

publishing (Flat Town Music, BMI). By the early 80s, Simien had already recorded two fine albums for Maison de Soul, Give Me A Good Time Woman (MS-1007) which reprised and updated some of his erstwhile JIN mater ial. This package included a single, the excellent rocker, “You Ain’t Nothing But Fine (#1017),” the flip of his best seller for JIN, “No Good Woman (#156).” The second in 1981, Boogie, Blues ‘N’ Zydeco (MS-1008), aptly demonstrated just how much in stature he had grown as a recording art-ist, being backed by a bevy of South Louisiana all star sidemen, including Katie Webster on piano, Mark Miller (J.D.’s son) on bass, Willie “Tee” Trahan on saxophone, and Warren Storm on drums.

In 1984, playing nearly all the instruments, Simien record-ed the infectious zydeco dance number, “My Toot Toot,” and proffered it to Floyd Soileau, who released it as Maison de Soul #1024. And to say it cre-ated a sensation would be an understatement. Thus, Soileau, heading, as usual, a “mom and pop” record company, soon found himself in a bind simi-lar to that of his experience dealing with the fast breaking singles of Rod Bernard and Tommy McLain. Not want-ing this potential chart maker to wither on the vine because it couldn’t be properly distrib-uted, he again sought the aid of Huey Meaux.

Meaux, since the McLain collaboration, had purchased

in the early 70s the legendary recording studio of Bill Quinn in Houston, Gold Star at 5626 Brock St. In the late 40s, Quinn had a number of hits on his Gold Star label with blues art-ists such as Lightnin’ Hopkins, L.C. Williams, and “Little Son” Jackson. And in the late 50s and early 60s, recording acts such as the Big Bopper (J.P. Richardson), George Jones, and Cajun Johnny Preston (Courville) had made their mark there. Soon after acquiring the facility and renaming it Sugar Hill, Meaux, throughout the decade, was rid-ing the crest of a number of nationwide smashes executed by Texas native Freddy Fender (Baldemar Huerta), includ-ing “Wasted Days and Wasted Nights” and “Before the Next


“We don’t speak the name of Huey Meaux up here in Ville Platte anymore.”

from left: Producer Lee Lavergne and Preston Frank, Church Point, LA, 1992

Huey Meaux, 1960’sphoto: johnnie allan archives


Teardrop Falls” which were leased to major, ABC/Dot.

And in this instance as well, Meaux was all too eager to lend assistance to Soileau. Moreover by then, Meaux had cultivated an association with Columbia records and the disk debuted as Epic #34-05430, an affiliate label of this major. When the record appeared nationally, it had such an effect as to chart on pop, C&W, and R&B surveys; so much so, that that it spawned several covers, including those of Jean “Mr. Big Stuff ” Knight, Fats Domino, and John Fogerty, formerly of the rock group, Creedence Clearwater Revival. But “My Toot Toot” with its eth-nic flavor soon became a world-wide phenomenon and eventu-ally prompted an obligatory promotional tour of Europe. In the Old World, the single was on record shelves everywhere. In fact, I spotted it prominently displayed on the Top 20 record rack of Paris’ grandest depart-ment store, FNAC. I also was lucky enough to experience the frenzy it caused in South Louisiana and can recall that Mr. Soileau, always the shrewd businessman, capitalized on the “Toot Toot” fever by marketing T-shirts, caps, and other “spi-noff ” paraphernalia.

Nevertheless, the record was not without controversy. Soileau, with practically a uni-versal reputation of being hon-est and fair, confided, as dip-lomatically as he could to me, that Meaux had kept more of his share of the proceeds than to which he was entitled by this contract, this supposed gentle-man’s agreement. And the once cordial relationship between the two producers deteriorated into bad blood. “We don’t speak the name of Huey Meaux up here in Ville Platte anymore,” assert-ed the aggrieved Soileau at that time. And the breach between the two remained irreparable. Call it poetic justice if you like but Meaux in 1996 received a

measure of comeuppance, as he was arrested and ultimately imprisoned on a morals charge, a sordid saga of sex and con-trolled substances.

As for Rockin’ Sidney, fol-low-up numbers were also leased to Epic, “My Zydeco Shoes” and “Dance and Show Off,” catchy tunes in the same groove as “Toot Toot,” but which couldn’t quite match the latter’s verve. A better selection may have been the flip of the original, “Jalepeno Lena,” with its solid, finger popping dance beat and alliterative hook line. Nonetheless, all of these crowd pleasers are included on the Maison de Soul vinyl album and cassette, My Zydeco Shoes Got the Zydeco Blues (MDS 1009), both which proved to be a highly profitable ventures.

In the early 70s, Mr. Soileau had built a four track recording facility, this one, free standing, and detached from his record store and then another, which was upgraded to eight tracks. But by 1975, he decided to sell the equipment in favor of a vinyl pressing plant which he envisioned as a more financially beneficial enterprise. And for several years, his hunch proved correct, as he was filling orders from all over the country, includ-ing those for Chris Strachwitz’s Arhoolie label. And during the time frame of the 70s and 80s, he was also in the cassette and eight track business, the latter medium favored by long haul truckers. But by the 90s, vinyl (as well as cassette tapes) was being supplanted by advent of the CDs and, despite this revo-lution in format by the major record companies, he bravely struggled against the tide. Truly, it would be safe to say that he was the last refuge of the 45 rpm single. “In fact, when I had a local hit, I had to custom or privately press the records, since there were still hundreds of juke boxes in the region,” he said in a recent interview. But even this

practice came to an abrupt halt when an arson fire destroyed his pressing plant. And to say the least, it was quite a devas-tating blow. “Larry, it’s kind of tragic, because I always had the working man in mind with this music and he could easily afford these records, but now [with the introduction of the CD] it had become a whole new deal,” he said, suspecting that the entire record industry had conspired to create this particular vehicle as an immense cash grab. And he was undoubtedly correct in this assumption.

In 1998, with the death of Lee Lavergne, a friendly com-petitor, Mr. Soileau stood alone. Now it was only he who could cater to a small, avid, but strong-ly supportive niche market both here and abroad. Indeed,

to whom else could they turn? So, he decided to keep his labels afloat, reluctantly embracing the CD as a means for disseminat-ing the music he so loved. But he wasn’t about to invest in a costly CD manufacturing facil-ity. To mitigate the expenses, though, he still had the capabil-ity of printing the inserts and that was half the battle. Even so, moving forward was not with-out its risks. The music in which he specialized ebbed and flowed in popularity, “like a roller coaster” to use his expression. These were uncharted waters. But as the new millennium dawned, Floyd Soileau was up for the challenge. ●

NEXT ISSUE: PART I I : LOOKING FORWARD

Rockin’ Sidney circa 1980photo: johnnie allan archives

floyd soileau in office of ville platte store, 1990 the ... · enough to run into harry simoneaux,...

Documents