In the ‘90s Death Row’s Suge Knight has became the symbol of the black gangsta as music mogul. But Knight didn’t invent that lane. Far from it. I’d suggest the original R&B musical gangster was a black Jew from Houston named Don Robey. As a record man Robey would be eclipsed by Berry Gordy’s crossover success at Motown in the ‘60s, but the legend of the multifaceted musical empire he built in the ‘40s and ‘50s lingers for those who know their history.
Robey recorded gospel, blues, rhythm & blues and rock & roll, opened a booking agency that flourished throughout the South, and ran a music publishing company that featured scores of copyrights with his name on it (though he probably wrote none of them.) Unlike Knight, who lost Death Row Records and has languished in prison for much of the 21st century, Robey died with millions in the bank after selling his assets in 1973
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Those reared in Texas and raised on hip hop will tell you the most important business figure to emerge from Houston’s notorious Fifth Ward is J Prince, the founder of Rap-A-Lot records, home to the Geto Boys and Scarface. But the original Fifth Ward OG was born in Houston in 1903 of a white Jewish mother and a black father, and was known to bragmof his mixed background, “I can outsmart you and beat your ass!” Colorful stories about Robey abound. Singer Roy Head said, “(Robey) could spit and hit a spittoon from eight feet away without getting anything on the floor.” Little Richard, who’s earliest recordings were on Robey’s Duke label, said Robey “wore great big diamonds on his hand and he was always chewing this big cigar, cussin’ at me ’round the end of it.”
After a big night at his club the Bronze Peacock, it’s said Robey would stuff the night’s take in burlap sacks, grab a 12-gauge shotgun and drive to a downtown bank where, hopping out of his ride, weapon over one shoulder and money bags over the other, he’d stroll in to make his deposit. The late great promotion man (and my source of black music lore) Dave Clark worked for Robey and idolized him. “He was one of the greatest black record manufacturers who ever lived,” Clark told me. “A lot of black companies went out of business. A lot of label presidents ended up poor. Don Robey ended his life a very rich man.”
As a young man Robey gravitated to gambling, becoming proficient at poker and dice. During the Great Depression, he opened a few local venues, making his entry into the music business by booking local bands before bringing nationally known ensembles led by Jimmy Lunceford, Earl Hines, Duke Ellington and others to H-town. With Houston as his base, Robey build a network of relationships with similar underworld/music world figures in Texas (Port Arthur, San Antonio) and Louisiana (Baton Rouge, Shreveport) that would eventually evolve into a booking agency. Since white taxis didn’t pick up black customers, Robey opened a cab company to service Houston’s Negros. Not only was he building a rep as a businessman, but as a bad ass. He and a partner named Morris Merritt opened a spot together called the Harlem Grill. When the two men had a dispute over money on a Houston street Robey, cold cocked Merritt and knocked him to the ground. That effectively ending their partnership.
As World War II was ending in 1945, Robey opened the centerpiece of his empire — a Fifth Ward nightclub called the Bronze Peacock. Blues historian Roger Wood wrote in his book, ‘Down in Houston: Bayou City Blues,’ that the club was “arguably the most sophisticated African American owned and operated nightclub in the south during the 1940s and 1950s. It hired only the most prestigious chefs and offered an extensive menu of fine food and drink. Its roomy stage hosted productions featuring the leading uptown performers of the day.”
Popular black music was transitioning from big bands to smaller combos featuring a small horn section and emphasizing rhythm. It was called jump blues until Billboard contributor (and soon to be legendary producer) Jerry Wexler coined the phrase “rhythm & blues” to capture the importance of rhythm sections in the era when the electric guitar and the Fender bass were being introduced.
The key transitional figure was Louis Jordan, a saxophonist who was also a witty songwriter and engaging singer. His Tympany Five, a nibble band consisted of drum, double bass, piano, his tenor sax and a horn section that varied from three to five members, including another sax, trumpets and trombone. This stripped down instrumental line up that would become standard for blues, rhythm & blues and, it’s step child, rock & roll, and for much pop music in the post war era. During his late ‘40s/early ‘50s peak Jordan was called “the king of the jukebox” with hit records like “Caladonia,” “Ain’t Nobody Here But Us Chickens,” “Let the Good Times Roll” and many more. (Jordan would be immortalized years later in the musical Five Guys Named Moe.)
As bands based on Jordan’s new model proliferated, the Bronze Peacock was a major Southern stop. Robey loved these smaller bands since dealing with a five to eight pieces was way cheaper than the orchestras of Ellington or Basie. It was while watching Clarence ‘Gatemouth’ Brown, a young singer, fiddler, and guitarist influenced by Jordan and bluesman T-Bone Walker, perform an impromptu set at the Bronze Peacock that Robey decided to make records. Initially he got Brown a singles release on the Los Angeles based Aladdin label but, unhappy with the results, he founded Peacock Records in 1949.
In 1952 Robey took control of Duke, a Memphis based label, which brought many established performers under his control, including Bobby “Blue” Bland, Junior Parker, Johnny Ace, Roscoe Gordon, Memphis Slim, Johnny Otis, Big Walter and the Thunderbirds and O.V. Wright. Among the historic records released by Peacock were Bland’s classic album,’ Two Steps from the Blues,’ and Big Mama Thorton’s 1953 “Hound Dog,” which was later covered by young Elvis Presley.
The irony of Robey’s career is that, for a man who was deep in the world of gambling and nightlife, it would be gospel music that would cement his legacy. According to historian Michael Corcoran, the Mississippi Blind Boys, on tour in Houston in 1950, met Robey who, very aware of the growing importance of rhythm in black music, they figured could sell more records by adding a drum beat to back up quartet singers. Up until then all gospel quartet recordings were done a cappella, replicating the performances delivered at churches. Recording as the ‘The Original Five Blind Boys’ the group cut “Our Father,” a sung version of The Lord’s Prayer backed by strident drum beat, an innovation that caused the record to get picked by jukebox operators in bars and restaurants, a success Robey quickly capitalized upon.
In 1953 he shut down the Bronze Peacock, turning the club into office space and a recording studio for his burgeoning empire. With that studio at his disposal, between 1953 and 1960 Robey would sign three of gospel’s greatest vocal groups: the versatile Dixie Hummingbirds, lead by the magnificent Ira Tucker; the Sensational Nightingales, lead by the fiery vocals of Julius Cheeks; and “the Temptations of gospel” the Mighty Clouds of Joy. At one point in the ‘60s Robey would have some 109 gospel acts under contract.
The network of nightclub relationships Robey had built in the late ‘40s blossomed into a full-fledged business in the ‘50s. Under the banner of Buffalo Booking and the day to day management of his chief lieutenant Evelyn Johnson, Robey’s venture became a dominant force in South. Robey may have owned a Buffalo Booking, but the company was registered with the American Federation of Musicians under Johnson’s name and she made all the operation’s day to day decisions. Her ambition had been to become an X-ray technician had been stifled by racist Texas state officials who wouldn’t let her take the state boards. So, Johnson fell in with Robey and did a bit of everything, from helping with the building of the Duke/Peacock studio to running a record pressing plant.
However Buffalo Booking was Robey’s cash cow. “Over the years, Robey had become part of a fraternity of light-skinned kingpins like himself whose membership spanned the South,” wrote historian Preston Lauterback of Robey’s Southern musical network. “They all ran nightclubs rife with gambling, liquor, prostitution — or all of the above. At the national level, these playboys were the backbone of the black entertainment industry known as the chitlin’ circuit. Robey and his colleagues operated in a shadow world, segregated from white society just as black music was segregated from mainstream pop in the r&b category.
“In places like New Orleans, Memphis, and Chicago, this group—informally known as “nigga mob” —ingratiated themselves to white men of power: law enforcement, politicians, and business leaders. In return, the playboys offered a taste of the proceeds from across the tracks, and this ensured the fix as it pertained to any legal difficulties they might encounter. Robey carried a badge identifying him as a special deputy of the Harris County Sheriff’s Department. His badge was customized with diamond studs.”
Buffalo Booking kept its clients working, whether at hard drinking night clubs or gospel jubilees. This was a good thing since getting paid from record sales or songwriting royalties didn’t happen for artists on Peacock, Duke or his other gospel label Song Bird. For $25 or $50 he’d buy songs from composers and put his nom de plum Deadric Malone on them, collecting whatever publishing monies they accrued. He was slightly more generous with singers - he was known to give a brand new Cadillac and $1000 a year who a popular crooner.
In the 21st century, the Texas State Historical society placed a marker at the offices of Duke-Peacock in the Fifth Ward which, in essence, was a memorial for Robey. It’s doubtful any of the young black residents of the area know anything about him or the blues and gospel stars he recorded. Yet he was absolutely as gangsta as any of the current local music biz types hustling trap music via the internet.
Great read. 👍🏾