Ray Charles and I don’t have a lot in common
Yesterday I had a conversation with two women who are pretty well connected in the cabaret world. One of them introduced me to the other and said something about the wonderful Ray Charles show I was doing. So I produced a postcard for my new acquaintance - who was very impressed that I had them already, since my next performances are still eight or nine weeks away. Then she said, wonderingly, “You are the last person I would expect to be doing a Ray Charles show.”
I smiled. (I hope I smiled. Anyway, I thought about smiling.) And replied, “That’s sort of the point.”
And indeed it is.
Yes, folks, it’s true: Ray Charles and I don’t have a lot in common. Skin color, gender, family history, pharmaceutical history…couldn’t be more different. Ray’s sound was unmistakeably his own. So’s mine (I hope) though I have been compared to Barbara Cook. And I don’t think anyone would mistake Barbara Cook for Ray Charles.
So if my goal were to deliver a Ray Charles impersonation, no doubt I’d be much better advised to keep my day job.
Fortunately that’s not my goal.
Nope, my goal is not to imitate Ray Charles. My goal is to emulate him.
Which is why Rodgers & Hammerstein share the songlist with Paul Simon. Why a Patsy Cline-ish country ballad is married to a 1920s torch song. Why Paul McCartney stands side by side with Hoagy Carmichael.
Ray sang whatever he pleased, no matter what kind of label (“country,” “pop,” “show tune”) the outside world would have put on it. Ray sang songs that spoke to him, never imitating those who had come before, always putting his own spin on the music, always telling the story his way.
In that respect, Ray Charles and I do have a lot in common. My audiences seem to think so, too. I hope my new acquaintance comes so she can see for herself.
