Biography
During the 1950s and opening years of the 1960s, Clyde McPhatter ranked among the foremost influential R&B vocalists. At that moment his individual name and vocal presence overshadowed the Drifters—the ensemble he had founded—to such an extent that the group required five years to regain stability following his exit. Black listeners accorded him a level of adulation few singers before or afterward experienced, and across nearly fifteen years he shaped rhythm & blues while guiding its shift into soul. His ascent as an R&B figure appeared improbable, given his mild high tenor, which at least outwardly aligned more readily with the celestial textures of gospel. Prospective managers and agents sometimes hesitated over his name, wondering what sort of R&B performer, let alone a leading one, would be called Clyde, regarding the combination as a rustic exaggeration of a Black American identity. All reservations and mockery vanished once he performed; even on the Apollo Theater live album taped in his later, waning period, his treatment of physical desire in the hit single “Ta Ta” registers as immediate, genuine, and entirely persuasive.
Born November 15, 1932, in Durham, NC, McPhatter was the fourth of six children of George and Beulah McPhatter. The household combined musical talent with deep religious commitment: George McPhatter delivered sermons at Mount Calvary Baptist Church, where Beulah McPhatter served as organist, and young Clyde sang as a boy soprano in the church choir. After the family relocated to New Jersey in 1945, McPhatter assembled his initial gospel ensemble while still in high school. Once the McPhatters settled in New York City, he joined the Mount Lebanon Singers, one of the East Coast’s leading gospel acts, performing with them through the latter half of the 1940s. Late in 1950 he crossed into secular music by entering Billy Ward, the former boxer who had become a singer, in the Dominoes. The ensemble, formally billed as Billy Ward & the Dominoes, recorded for Syd Nathan’s King Records label and, at the close of 1950, cut “Sixty Minute Man.” That track became the largest R&B success of 1951 and the earliest recognizable rock & roll recording—though the term itself had not yet been applied to music—by a Black group to cross from the R&B to the pop charts. McPhatter remained with Billy Ward & the Dominoes for three years, accumulating a strong sequence of hits that included “Have Mercy Baby,” “The Bells,” “I’d Be Satisfied,” and “These Foolish Things Remind Me of You,” while fulfilling every engagement the group could accept. The difficulty lay in Ward’s control of the ensemble’s public image and earnings: McPhatter supplied the lead voice that listeners recognized, yet Ward held the prominent billing position, retained all profits, and paid McPhatter a modest salary insufficient for living expenses, prompting some admirers to refer to him as “Clyde Ward.” Early in 1953 McPhatter resigned.
Ahmet Ertegun, president and co-founder of Atlantic Records, had admired McPhatter’s work with the Dominoes and, upon learning of his availability, offered a contract to record with his own group, should he assemble one. This led to the formation of the Drifters, created by McPhatter together with his manager George Treadwell. As the Drifters’ leader McPhatter’s career gained substantial momentum: beginning with “Money Honey,” the biggest R&B hit of 1954, he enjoyed a year of strong chart activity and rising popularity through the singles “Such a Night,” “Honey Love,” “White Christmas,” and “Whatch Gonna Do.” Drafted in 1954, McPhatter received a posting that kept him within the United States, enabling continued recording with the group. He had already resolved to depart the Drifters, however, envisioning a solo direction that would blend pop, R&B, and rock & roll. Unlike many others pursuing that goal, McPhatter possessed the capacity to realize it: his high tenor proved equally persuasive on slow ballads and hard rock & roll numbers, and he saw no obstacle to performing both styles in his own manner. Unaware at the time, he was tracing a route later followed by Elvis Presley, Sam Cooke, and numerous others.
Discharged in 1955, McPhatter launched his formal solo career on Atlantic Records. He first appeared in a duet with Ruth Brown on “Love Has Joined Us Together,” which reached number 8 on the R&B charts; in August of that year he recorded “Seven Days,” which became a number 2 R&B hit early in 1956. This marked his initial attempt at a crossover record, supported by a gentler pop orchestra and chorus, yet it was hindered on the pop charts by multiple white cover versions, notably those by Dorothy Collins and the Crew Cuts. He achieved stronger results in spring 1956 with “Treasure of Love,” his first solo R&B chart-topper, which also reached number 16 on the pop charts. “Just to Hold My Hand” maintained his Top 10 R&B and Top 30 pop standing in spring 1957, while “Long Lonely Nights” led the R&B listings and approached the Top 50 on the pop side that summer. McPhatter’s stature was such that Atlantic issued two LP releases centered on him in a single year—an unprecedented occurrence for a Black artist at a time when R&B albums, apart from Elvis Presley’s initial RCA long-players, sold in limited quantities. In 1956 the label released Clyde McPhatter & the Drifters, followed soon after by Love Ballads; the latter reflected the artist’s and company’s strategy through cover artwork showing white teenage girls in tinted overlays gazing excitedly toward the camera. McPhatter aimed to replicate the crossover path previously taken by Nat “King” Cole from jazz and Eddy Arnold from country, aspiring to rival Frank Sinatra and Perry Como. His largest Atlantic hit arrived in 1958 with “A Lover’s Question,” co-authored by Brook Benton, which reached number 6 on the pop charts that fall while heading the R&B listings. Three additional charting singles appeared in 1959, none reaching the R&B Top 10, yet another album, simply titled Clyde, was issued.
McPhatter left Atlantic that year after one final hit, “Lovey Dovey,” concluding his tenure there with another Brook Benton composition, “You Went Back on Your Word.” With his contract expired, he moved to M-G-M Records, which offered a substantial advance in its eagerness to secure a foothold in the R&B market. The association lasted only a year and produced four singles, of which merely “Let’s Try Again” approached his Atlantic success by entering the R&B Top 20. Minor pop entries that year included “I Told Myself a Lie” and “Think Me a Kiss.” The early 1960s brought personal and musical turbulence. McPhatter signed with Mercury Records as the decade opened, and his fortunes appeared to revive with the R&B Top 10 single “Ta Ta,” which also charted pop. “I Never Knew” performed well, followed by the Top 10 pop hit “Lover Please,” written by Billy Swan, in 1962. Behind the scenes, however, alcoholism and unreliability consumed the professional standing he had established within the music industry and Black communities; although still prominent enough to secure Apollo Theater bookings, hall managers, promoters, and his own backing musicians could never anticipate his condition or even his repertoire between rehearsal and performance. Music itself was shifting around him. McPhatter had served as a model for soul singers of two successive generations—Ben E. King in the Drifters and as a solo artist, alongside Jackie Wilson and Smokey Robinson—all of whom generated abundant hits between 1960 and 1965. Even the reconfigured Drifters, now featuring an entirely new lineup and fresh sound, enjoyed extensive radio exposure and sales centered on the voices of King, Rudy Lewis, and Johnny Moore. Sam Cooke, McPhatter’s contemporary in generation and experience—from the rural South to the city and from gospel to R&B and pop—dominated soul during the early 1960s. All remained consistent and professional, leaving scant space for McPhatter, who at that juncture was neither.
Before departing Mercury, McPhatter recorded modest successes with “Deep in the Heart of Harlem,” a track that appeared to echo the soft soul style of the contemporaneous Drifters, and “Crying Won’t Help You Now,” along with a strong concert album, Live at the Apollo, in 1964 that surveyed his career hits dating to the early 1950s. He subsequently recorded for smaller labels such as Amy Records, unable to secure further hits or sustain live work. He likely recognized the irony that his former Drifters colleague, bass singer Bill Pinkney, now fronted a version of the Drifters performing McPhatter’s own repertoire with an active concert schedule, especially in England. Anticipating the later trajectory of the post-McPhatter Drifters, McPhatter himself relocated to England. His Dominoes and Drifters recordings had not been issued in the U.K. at the time of their original American release. By the early 1960s, amid rising British interest in American R&B, the availability of his recent solo material, and the foundation established by Pinkney’s performances, McPhatter gained recognition and a new audience there. He worked British clubs for several years until the same personal difficulties resurfaced. Returning to America in the early 1970s, he signed with Decca Records and released the album Welcome Home, which made no commercial impression. McPhatter himself claimed no remaining audience or fans existed, an assertion contradicted by the facts. Even a novice R&B listener in the late 1960s from a middle-class white neighborhood—where Jimi Hendrix was the Black artist most frequently heard and none of the early Drifters’ songs appeared on albums—recognized who Clyde McPhatter was or had been.
Professionally and personally, however, it was too late. Prolonged alcoholism and depression, together with an inability to address his difficulties, culminated in a fatal heart attack in New York in 1972. Years passed before Atlantic, the label for what were likely the six most promising years of his career, began reissuing his music in the United States, although its British division made limited efforts abroad. In the CD era, alongside the label’s own compilation Deep Sea Ball, Atlantic has licensed portions of his catalog to Collectables and Sequel. No definitive compilation of his recordings or biography of this foundational R&B and soul artist yet exists.
Born November 15, 1932, in Durham, NC, McPhatter was the fourth of six children of George and Beulah McPhatter. The household combined musical talent with deep religious commitment: George McPhatter delivered sermons at Mount Calvary Baptist Church, where Beulah McPhatter served as organist, and young Clyde sang as a boy soprano in the church choir. After the family relocated to New Jersey in 1945, McPhatter assembled his initial gospel ensemble while still in high school. Once the McPhatters settled in New York City, he joined the Mount Lebanon Singers, one of the East Coast’s leading gospel acts, performing with them through the latter half of the 1940s. Late in 1950 he crossed into secular music by entering Billy Ward, the former boxer who had become a singer, in the Dominoes. The ensemble, formally billed as Billy Ward & the Dominoes, recorded for Syd Nathan’s King Records label and, at the close of 1950, cut “Sixty Minute Man.” That track became the largest R&B success of 1951 and the earliest recognizable rock & roll recording—though the term itself had not yet been applied to music—by a Black group to cross from the R&B to the pop charts. McPhatter remained with Billy Ward & the Dominoes for three years, accumulating a strong sequence of hits that included “Have Mercy Baby,” “The Bells,” “I’d Be Satisfied,” and “These Foolish Things Remind Me of You,” while fulfilling every engagement the group could accept. The difficulty lay in Ward’s control of the ensemble’s public image and earnings: McPhatter supplied the lead voice that listeners recognized, yet Ward held the prominent billing position, retained all profits, and paid McPhatter a modest salary insufficient for living expenses, prompting some admirers to refer to him as “Clyde Ward.” Early in 1953 McPhatter resigned.
Ahmet Ertegun, president and co-founder of Atlantic Records, had admired McPhatter’s work with the Dominoes and, upon learning of his availability, offered a contract to record with his own group, should he assemble one. This led to the formation of the Drifters, created by McPhatter together with his manager George Treadwell. As the Drifters’ leader McPhatter’s career gained substantial momentum: beginning with “Money Honey,” the biggest R&B hit of 1954, he enjoyed a year of strong chart activity and rising popularity through the singles “Such a Night,” “Honey Love,” “White Christmas,” and “Whatch Gonna Do.” Drafted in 1954, McPhatter received a posting that kept him within the United States, enabling continued recording with the group. He had already resolved to depart the Drifters, however, envisioning a solo direction that would blend pop, R&B, and rock & roll. Unlike many others pursuing that goal, McPhatter possessed the capacity to realize it: his high tenor proved equally persuasive on slow ballads and hard rock & roll numbers, and he saw no obstacle to performing both styles in his own manner. Unaware at the time, he was tracing a route later followed by Elvis Presley, Sam Cooke, and numerous others.
Discharged in 1955, McPhatter launched his formal solo career on Atlantic Records. He first appeared in a duet with Ruth Brown on “Love Has Joined Us Together,” which reached number 8 on the R&B charts; in August of that year he recorded “Seven Days,” which became a number 2 R&B hit early in 1956. This marked his initial attempt at a crossover record, supported by a gentler pop orchestra and chorus, yet it was hindered on the pop charts by multiple white cover versions, notably those by Dorothy Collins and the Crew Cuts. He achieved stronger results in spring 1956 with “Treasure of Love,” his first solo R&B chart-topper, which also reached number 16 on the pop charts. “Just to Hold My Hand” maintained his Top 10 R&B and Top 30 pop standing in spring 1957, while “Long Lonely Nights” led the R&B listings and approached the Top 50 on the pop side that summer. McPhatter’s stature was such that Atlantic issued two LP releases centered on him in a single year—an unprecedented occurrence for a Black artist at a time when R&B albums, apart from Elvis Presley’s initial RCA long-players, sold in limited quantities. In 1956 the label released Clyde McPhatter & the Drifters, followed soon after by Love Ballads; the latter reflected the artist’s and company’s strategy through cover artwork showing white teenage girls in tinted overlays gazing excitedly toward the camera. McPhatter aimed to replicate the crossover path previously taken by Nat “King” Cole from jazz and Eddy Arnold from country, aspiring to rival Frank Sinatra and Perry Como. His largest Atlantic hit arrived in 1958 with “A Lover’s Question,” co-authored by Brook Benton, which reached number 6 on the pop charts that fall while heading the R&B listings. Three additional charting singles appeared in 1959, none reaching the R&B Top 10, yet another album, simply titled Clyde, was issued.
McPhatter left Atlantic that year after one final hit, “Lovey Dovey,” concluding his tenure there with another Brook Benton composition, “You Went Back on Your Word.” With his contract expired, he moved to M-G-M Records, which offered a substantial advance in its eagerness to secure a foothold in the R&B market. The association lasted only a year and produced four singles, of which merely “Let’s Try Again” approached his Atlantic success by entering the R&B Top 20. Minor pop entries that year included “I Told Myself a Lie” and “Think Me a Kiss.” The early 1960s brought personal and musical turbulence. McPhatter signed with Mercury Records as the decade opened, and his fortunes appeared to revive with the R&B Top 10 single “Ta Ta,” which also charted pop. “I Never Knew” performed well, followed by the Top 10 pop hit “Lover Please,” written by Billy Swan, in 1962. Behind the scenes, however, alcoholism and unreliability consumed the professional standing he had established within the music industry and Black communities; although still prominent enough to secure Apollo Theater bookings, hall managers, promoters, and his own backing musicians could never anticipate his condition or even his repertoire between rehearsal and performance. Music itself was shifting around him. McPhatter had served as a model for soul singers of two successive generations—Ben E. King in the Drifters and as a solo artist, alongside Jackie Wilson and Smokey Robinson—all of whom generated abundant hits between 1960 and 1965. Even the reconfigured Drifters, now featuring an entirely new lineup and fresh sound, enjoyed extensive radio exposure and sales centered on the voices of King, Rudy Lewis, and Johnny Moore. Sam Cooke, McPhatter’s contemporary in generation and experience—from the rural South to the city and from gospel to R&B and pop—dominated soul during the early 1960s. All remained consistent and professional, leaving scant space for McPhatter, who at that juncture was neither.
Before departing Mercury, McPhatter recorded modest successes with “Deep in the Heart of Harlem,” a track that appeared to echo the soft soul style of the contemporaneous Drifters, and “Crying Won’t Help You Now,” along with a strong concert album, Live at the Apollo, in 1964 that surveyed his career hits dating to the early 1950s. He subsequently recorded for smaller labels such as Amy Records, unable to secure further hits or sustain live work. He likely recognized the irony that his former Drifters colleague, bass singer Bill Pinkney, now fronted a version of the Drifters performing McPhatter’s own repertoire with an active concert schedule, especially in England. Anticipating the later trajectory of the post-McPhatter Drifters, McPhatter himself relocated to England. His Dominoes and Drifters recordings had not been issued in the U.K. at the time of their original American release. By the early 1960s, amid rising British interest in American R&B, the availability of his recent solo material, and the foundation established by Pinkney’s performances, McPhatter gained recognition and a new audience there. He worked British clubs for several years until the same personal difficulties resurfaced. Returning to America in the early 1970s, he signed with Decca Records and released the album Welcome Home, which made no commercial impression. McPhatter himself claimed no remaining audience or fans existed, an assertion contradicted by the facts. Even a novice R&B listener in the late 1960s from a middle-class white neighborhood—where Jimi Hendrix was the Black artist most frequently heard and none of the early Drifters’ songs appeared on albums—recognized who Clyde McPhatter was or had been.
Professionally and personally, however, it was too late. Prolonged alcoholism and depression, together with an inability to address his difficulties, culminated in a fatal heart attack in New York in 1972. Years passed before Atlantic, the label for what were likely the six most promising years of his career, began reissuing his music in the United States, although its British division made limited efforts abroad. In the CD era, alongside the label’s own compilation Deep Sea Ball, Atlantic has licensed portions of his catalog to Collectables and Sequel. No definitive compilation of his recordings or biography of this foundational R&B and soul artist yet exists.
Albums
