Chip Taylor was my favourite MIRC friend that I met on-line, in 1993. I had loved his famous songs since 1965, but alas we never met in person.
Speaking to Gianluca Tramontana from his Manhattan flat, Chip said he began as the frontman of a band, then turned to writing for others during the early pop era, soon encompassing R&B, rock and classic country: Aretha Franklin, Frank Sinatra, Janis Joplin, Willie Nelson and Nina Simone all recorded his songs.
Born in 1940 in New York, James Voight was son of a golf professional. His brother Jon Voight became a successful actor, as did his niece Angelina Jolie, and brother Dr Barry Voight became a top scientist. Taylor wrote his first song at 12, and by 16 he was fronting his group. After two regional hits, a tour with Neil Sedaka and the name change to Chip Taylor, he became a solo artist at Warner Brothers in 1962, and selling songs to publishers.
Music publisher Jerry Tyfer sent Taylor’s Springtime to Chet Atkins, the producer behind the country’s sophisticated Nashville Sound, who sent Tyfer back a note saying: “It’s very hard for me to believe Chip Taylor’s from New York but wherever he’s from, I want to hear every song he writes.” So Atkins recorded 6 Taylor songs, as a staff writer at April Blackwood Music, CBS’s publishing arm.
He was best known for a raunchy song, the three-chord groin-thrust of the Troggs’ Wild Thing, and one of history’s most epic power ballads in Angel of the Morning (1967). But his songs flowed from a much quieter, cooler place. There was a certain chilly stillness that he got through his body. It didn’t mean it was going to be successful, but it meant if he could get enough of that spirit, it would be worthwhile.
On Broadway, there was action: Neil Sedaka, Gerry Goffin and Carole King, Bert “Twist and Shout” Berns, Howie “Is This the Way to Amarillo” Greenfield, and Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil were his fellow writers. Every office in the publishing company had a desk, phone, piano and sofa, so little meetings happened there and as did song-writing. Taylor’s boyhood blues and country music allowed him to bridge the chasm between New York and Nashville. When asked why his songs were in so many different genres, Taylor said his music didn’t have to fit one kind. It was soulful. Any Way That You Want Me was recorded by Spiritualised and several other bands, yet it was a big rhythm and blues hit by others.
In Any Way That You Want Me, he got into the spirit of a woman and let the words flow. It was inspired by a war film that he’d seen on tv, where two lovers on different sides of the war were spending any time they could together. People thought it was casual, but this was a most powerful love of two separated people.
Taylor’s song-writing flow was blocked by horse-racing and he pored over betting forms every night. Even mobster Meyer Lansky’s organisation acted as Taylor’s bookie. Eventually Lansky’s man bought him beautiful whiskey for Christmas and birthdays. Why? The answer was “You’re one of our best customers!”
In 1965 staff writer Taylor got a call that changed his career: A&R man Gerry Granahan needed a rock song for N.Y band The Wild Ones. Most of his success had been country, with few rock hits. In the excitement of a demo session already booked, he held the guitar and started singing; immediately Wild Thing was born. He just wrote one verse and chorus, and couldn’t come up with more. Then he realised he could just say the same thing, changing a few words. Before the 5pm demo session, he went into the studio, dimmed the lights and winged it; engineer Ron Johnson made sounds blowing into his cupped hands, which became a wind-instrument solo on the eventual Troggs record.
The song endures. At Troggs singer Reg Presley’s 2013 funeral, there were Troggs hits during the service. When Wild Thing played as Reg was cremated, they stood, fist pumping, crying and singing.
Wild Thing was a US #1 and a UK #2 in 1966, and was soon given an unforgettable Jimi Hendrix live rendition. Another 1966 song, I Can’t Let Go, was a UK #2 for the Hollies and later a 1980 US hit for Linda Rondstat. Angel of the Morning topped the US and UK charts ages after it was written, by Pretenders and Merrilee Rush.
Taylor grew frustrated with Capitol Records’ lack of backing for his latest solo release by 1980, and for another 14 years his part-time gambling became full-time. Except for Papa Come Quick for Bonnie Raitt in 1991, there was nothing. But when his mother was ill, he played by her bedside, and suddenly the spirit started to creep back. He gave up gambling totally and would play music for whoever wanted to hear him play. His 1996 comeback album was Hitman.
His latest album of 27 new songs, Cradle of All Living Things by Train Wreck Records has mostly intimate, delicate songs with a farewell quality, songs Grandpa might leave his grandchildren. Taylor is having chemotherapy and radiation, and he (aged 83) and his wife are getting older; she’s had some strokes and they want more time together. Fortunately his guitar and his songs are still about his love for the family.
Tramontana asks him for the newest song giving him chills. Taylor recently wrote The Blessing coming out of church with his wife. Jesus wasn’t a songwriter, but he might appreciate a good song. So after all these decades writing songs, yes, Chip is still chasing the chill.
Chip Taylor, 2019
Rochester City News
Music publisher Jerry Tyfer sent Taylor’s Springtime to Chet Atkins, the producer behind the country’s sophisticated Nashville Sound, who sent Tyfer back a note saying: “It’s very hard for me to believe Chip Taylor’s from New York but wherever he’s from, I want to hear every song he writes.” So Atkins recorded 6 Taylor songs, as a staff writer at April Blackwood Music, CBS’s publishing arm.
He was best known for a raunchy song, the three-chord groin-thrust of the Troggs’ Wild Thing, and one of history’s most epic power ballads in Angel of the Morning (1967). But his songs flowed from a much quieter, cooler place. There was a certain chilly stillness that he got through his body. It didn’t mean it was going to be successful, but it meant if he could get enough of that spirit, it would be worthwhile.
On Broadway, there was action: Neil Sedaka, Gerry Goffin and Carole King, Bert “Twist and Shout” Berns, Howie “Is This the Way to Amarillo” Greenfield, and Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil were his fellow writers. Every office in the publishing company had a desk, phone, piano and sofa, so little meetings happened there and as did song-writing. Taylor’s boyhood blues and country music allowed him to bridge the chasm between New York and Nashville. When asked why his songs were in so many different genres, Taylor said his music didn’t have to fit one kind. It was soulful. Any Way That You Want Me was recorded by Spiritualised and several other bands, yet it was a big rhythm and blues hit by others.
In Any Way That You Want Me, he got into the spirit of a woman and let the words flow. It was inspired by a war film that he’d seen on tv, where two lovers on different sides of the war were spending any time they could together. People thought it was casual, but this was a most powerful love of two separated people.
Taylor’s song-writing flow was blocked by horse-racing and he pored over betting forms every night. Even mobster Meyer Lansky’s organisation acted as Taylor’s bookie. Eventually Lansky’s man bought him beautiful whiskey for Christmas and birthdays. Why? The answer was “You’re one of our best customers!”
In 1965 staff writer Taylor got a call that changed his career: A&R man Gerry Granahan needed a rock song for N.Y band The Wild Ones. Most of his success had been country, with few rock hits. In the excitement of a demo session already booked, he held the guitar and started singing; immediately Wild Thing was born. He just wrote one verse and chorus, and couldn’t come up with more. Then he realised he could just say the same thing, changing a few words. Before the 5pm demo session, he went into the studio, dimmed the lights and winged it; engineer Ron Johnson made sounds blowing into his cupped hands, which became a wind-instrument solo on the eventual Troggs record.
The song endures. At Troggs singer Reg Presley’s 2013 funeral, there were Troggs hits during the service. When Wild Thing played as Reg was cremated, they stood, fist pumping, crying and singing.
Wild Thing was a US #1 and a UK #2 in 1966, and was soon given an unforgettable Jimi Hendrix live rendition. Another 1966 song, I Can’t Let Go, was a UK #2 for the Hollies and later a 1980 US hit for Linda Rondstat. Angel of the Morning topped the US and UK charts ages after it was written, by Pretenders and Merrilee Rush.
Taylor grew frustrated with Capitol Records’ lack of backing for his latest solo release by 1980, and for another 14 years his part-time gambling became full-time. Except for Papa Come Quick for Bonnie Raitt in 1991, there was nothing. But when his mother was ill, he played by her bedside, and suddenly the spirit started to creep back. He gave up gambling totally and would play music for whoever wanted to hear him play. His 1996 comeback album was Hitman.
The three brothers: Jon Voight, Chip Taylor and Barry Voight
Songwriters Hall of Fame, Music Award Ceremony 2016
Tramontana asks him for the newest song giving him chills. Taylor recently wrote The Blessing coming out of church with his wife. Jesus wasn’t a songwriter, but he might appreciate a good song. So after all these decades writing songs, yes, Chip is still chasing the chill.