Book Review | Rob Bowman, The Last Soul Company: The Malaco Records Story (Malaco Press)

Malaco Records’ unlikely saga of success is quite an epic tale. Really, how in the world could three Ole Miss frat boys build a corporation in Jackson, Mississippi, that would eventually become a significant force in the Black music industry? It would take a little luck, lots of sweat, and plenty of savvy, which the Malaco brain trust would possess. As luck would have it, a clutch of New Orleans artists lit the fuse for Malaco five decades ago. At the time, revered local producer Wardell Quezergue was working on some new recording projects. However, Quezergue couldn’t use New Orleans’ only recording studio, Cosimo Matassa’s Jazz City. He and his previous partners label, NOLA Records, skipped out on a $100K studio bill which Matassa rightly took expectation to. Undeterred, Quezergue and his new partner Elijah Walker, booked studio time at Malaco’s new studio, 196 miles away. In the spring of 1970 a school bus full of aspiring artists headed up north. For the session, Quezergue would use Malaco’s house band on his productions—all white Mississippi musicians. To make a long story short, the trip resulted in such million sellers as King Floyd’s “Groove Me” and Jean Knight’s “Mr. Big Stuff.” That success would put Malaco on the national map, but the studio still struggled for the next decade, saved in part by Anita Ward’s “Ring My Bell” and Dorothy Moore’s “Misty Blue” hits. That would change in the ’80s. Despite the direction of major labels, who were then focusing on young record buyers, Malaco’s recently hired promo director Dave Clark was convinced there was still a viable market for Southern, Black, middle-aged record buyers. Clark would sign journeyman R&B singer Z.Z. Hill for Malaco. This would prove fortuitous with the release of Hill’s “Down Home Blues,” a record considered all but a Southern Black national anthem. Ironically, at the same Hill’s records were sizzling, several R&B hit makers from an earlier era were being let go by bigger labels.

Eventually, Latimore, Denise LaSalle, Little Milton, Bobby Bland and Johnnie Taylor found their way to Jackson. Not a one-trick pony, Malaco also appealed to Black gospel music buyers, largely ignored by other labels. Malaco basically introduced the popular mass choir genre and helped keep the Black gospel quartet tradition going. Malaco also purchased the Savoy gospel catalog for reissue, a treasure trove of Black music. Not unexpectedly, Malaco’s new direction has changed slightly since the last century, but they remain focused on recording great Black music primarily for a Black audience.

Interestingly, unlike such labels as Motown, Atlantic, Stax and Chess, Malaco has existed under the radar for many Black music historians and aficionados. A fascinating read for those new to Malaco, enthusiasts or long-time fans—The Last Soul Company is filled with hundreds of photos, and probably as many personal insights. A hard cover, table sized book, it’s a bit ungainly, but a handsome addition to anyone’s music library.