Isaac Hayes “Hot Buttered Soul”

Maybe my favorite all-time album cover (or in the top-ten), over half the 144 square inches of image space taken up by the top of Isaac Hayes’s perfectly bald head. There are probably more than a few people, since 1969, whose insanity was manifested by meticulously counting the thus exhibited bald head pores. They pored over the pores. (Which isn’t to say his head isn’t as smooth as the music on this record.) It’s almost abstract—you can see part of one ear, his sunglasses from the top, and then, falling out of focus, shoulders and heavy gold chains. It’s really quite beautiful. And the record is even better. If I was going to pick an ultimate work of art that I would hold up as something I would aspire to—that is, in some magical world where I was capable of anything (books, bridges, full-length movies, 12-inch vinyl)—it might be this album. Does that mean it’s my favorite LP? —in a way, yes—but I can’t pick a favorite (in spite of my “lists”). Since the day I compiled some cassette tapes from a giant Stax records collection about 25 years ago, I’ve listened to this version of the Bacharach/David classic “Walk On By” way too many times to even hear it any more, yet on this day, it again sounds like the most amazing thing ever set to tape, with those strings, backup singers, some insane guitar, The Bar-Kays rhythm section, and the whole Isaac Hayes interpretation. Two long songs on this side, that, and a funk pop number “Hyperbolicsyllabicsesquedalymistic” (take that, spellcheck) which would itself be a standout on any other 1969 (or any year) record (especially the middle, instrumental jam part, which I would love to just have a 90-minute version of—or even longer).

Only two songs on Side Two, as well, first, a really nice soul ballad, “One Woman,” that I guess Al Green recorded first (but not by much)—a pretty sweet song—but that chorus: “One woman is making my home/while the other woman is making me do wrong”—infuses the whole project with a healthy amount of realism and sadness. An excellent song, and this is a fine version. And finally, an amazing 19-minute journey called “By the Time I Get To Phoenix”—a great song, but far from my favorite Jimmy Webb composition (just because there are so many that are so good), but it’s a song that, over the years, I’ve compiled a collection of cover versions (there are songs I love to do this with) —and there are some good ones. (Also, a lot, I need a bigger box!) The first I’d heard, of course, was Glen Campbell’s, which I’d been too barraged with as a youth to really appreciate. So, it wasn’t until decades later, hearing other inspired versions of it, that I recognized it as a great song. The Isaac Hayes version here is my favorite. It starts out with an intro that’s longer than most Sunday sermons—our man doing a mini Webb bio and non-history of its composition, while setting up his take, to “bring it on down to Soulsville”—and the only sound, during all this, besides the golden voice, is steady tapping on a cymbal, and what sounds like one key pressed on the Hammond organ—maybe the longest continuous single note in recording history—which you almost don’t even notice—but then you notice the wavering “tremolo” and realize your literally hearing, in action, a Leslie speaker, spinnin’ away. Finally, we launch into the lyrics, and another fine arrangement, really nice piano, too, and a deep vocal interpretation. And if that all isn’t enough—he extends the song with a lengthy outro that includes his improvisational riffing on the whole sad story, and then a minimal but awesome horn section for even more drama, and then the slow-machinegun drums adding to the emotional overload, and finally, some organ pyrotechnics—but tastefully—until he brings it down—and it gets quiet again—and then finally finishes out, highlighted by even more nutso organ, and again! quiet—and (for real, this time) finishes with an organ chord that sounds exactly like church.

11.21.25