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Remembrance of Cosmo

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Cosmo: Let Him Go, Let Him Go, God Bless Him

Posted: September 8th, 2013 | Filed under: Culture, Music, Ruminations | 9 Comments »

If there’s one image that lingers, one that underscores why I miss Tommy Cosdon oh so much, it’s the one in my mind’s eye from the summer of ’61. Taylorsville Road Frisch’s, the one known as the Atherton Big Boy. Cosmo and a couple of his Sultan band mates are sitting in a car around back . . . listening to “It’ll Be Easy.”

Maybe on WAKY. Perhaps WKLO,

Whatever, it was an indelible teen moment. American Graffiti.

Our band, our guys. Guys we knew. On the radio. In the Top 40.

Oh, what a time it was. Such a time.

Cosmo’s passing reaffirms for the thousandth time that those halcyon days of Friday nights dancing at the VFW are long ago far away, it underlines one last definitive time that we can’t go back.

Our sadness is as much about us as it is about Tommy. We who grew up at that special time in Louisville are the lucky ones. And now, with our aches and pains and daily reminders on the obit page, and the sad news about Cosmo, we know for absolute sure there will be no more one more once. We’ve lost the chance to ask that gal or guy across the room from Waggener or Sacred Heart to slow dance. Those memories are finite.

How many times did I hear Cosmo’s amazing voice?

Hell, I haven’t a clue.

VFW. Zachary Taylor. Richmond Boat Club. School dances. On the Belle. At the Watterson or Henry Clay or Seelbach Hotel.

The first time, at an Atherton sock hop.

Another memorable moment was when The Sultans opened for the Beach Boys at the Fairgrounds. They wore gold tuxedos.

Cosmo’s singular musical interlude I particularly cherish came at his club, his most successful business venture, The Head Rest. It happened to be the night before the tornado, which closed the joint down for a long while. (Before the neighbors later after its reopening closed it down for good, voting the Crescent Hill precinct dry, because too many of us parked on their lawns and peed in their bushes.)

I can’t recall what band was playing. But Tommy sat in and let loose with the most soulful, inspired version of “St. James Infirmary” I’ve ever heard.

The guy felt it. How many times did I hear him carry on about Bobby Bland or some other blues shouter known mainly by the cognoscenti? I recall him waxing ecstatic when the band worked up a cover of The Capris’ “There’s A Moon Out Tonight.”

For years I tried to get him to join me in New Orleans for JazzFest, regaling him about sets from “The Tan Canary,” Johnny Adams, or Aaron Neville or Bobby Marchan. But there was always Derby week in the way. When I mentioned one year on my return, of hearing Hank Ballard & the Midnighters, Cosmo just sighed, assured me he’d make it down. He never did.

But, oh my, that voice. A perfectly soul-infused, teen rock & roll voice.

Suitably nasal. Slightly thin. Often a quiver. Emanating both yearning and bravado. Full with woe and wonder.

He was a good guy. A friend. My junior year at Atherton, I ate lunch with him daily, along with he who would become Dr. Death, George Nichols.

Yes, Cosmo was a character. Ran a glob of glue in the Derby named Rae’s Jet, who finished last. Owned a place on Fourth Street called Cosmo’s Wiggery. For years had a great Derby Sunday party, when he lived in Pee Wee Valley.

But, above and beyond all the rest, it’s the songs.  “It’ll Be Easy,” of course, The Sultans’ first and biggest hit.

Their cover, with Cosmo singing lead, of The Gladiola’s “Sweetheart Please Don’t Go.”

After Tommy left The Sultan’s for solo gigs with The Counts, there was the cute and clever, “Small Town Gossip.”

“I’m A Little Mixed Up,” which I include because, well, because a lot of you really like it, and because my buddy Mike, who helped me download all these tunes so they could be included here, warned, “You gotta include ‘I’m A Little Mixed Up.”

And my personal favorite, his splendid version of Frank Bugbee’s  haunting “I Belong To Nobody.”

There really isn’t a way to describe how his inimitable croon soothed my soul. Carried me through hard times when only melody could calm the heartache.

Cosmo was one of many coulda woulda shouldas. Most every town had one at the dawn of rock & roll.

But . . . he was a cut way above the rest.

And . . . he was ours.

Singer Tommy ‘Cosmo’ Cosdon, 71, concert to raise money for medical bills will be Oct. 6 2013 at Jim Porter’s Good Time Emporium, Louisville

The Courier Journal 09/07/2013, Page B003

Singer Tommy ‘Cosmo’ Cosdon, 71, dies

He also worked in horse industry

By_Jeffrey_Lee_Puckett

jpuckett@courier-journal.com 

The_Courier-Journal

Tommy “Cosmo” Cosdon, widely considered to be the greatest singer to emerge from Louisville’s first wave of rock ’n’ roll bands in the late 1950s, died early Friday. He was 71..

Cosdon was also a veteran of the thoroughbred horse-racing community as a trainer, jockey agent and bloodstock agent. He trained Rae Jet, last-place finisher in the 1969 Kentucky Derby.

“He had two great interests: music and horses,” said longtime friend and band mate Wayne Young. “I’m not sure if horses weren’t first.” Cosdon battled cancer last year and was diagnosed as cancer- free in January, said lifelong friend Jim Harbolt, but the chemotherapy weakened his immune system and led to cerebral histoplasmosis, which causes lesions on the brain.

Harbolt said Cosdon requested no visitation or funeral, but a celebration of his life is being planned. A concert to raise money for Cosdon’s medical bills will be Oct. 6 at Jim Porter’s Good Time Emporium.

Cosdon’s legacy in Louisville will be as a singer and showman, said Marvin Maxwell, who remembers Cosdon galvanizing audiences as a member of The Sultans in the early 1960s. Maxwell later performed with Cosdon in the Shufflin’ Grand Dads, which began in 1992, and the current incarnation of Soul, Inc.

“He was Mr. Showman,” Maxwell said.

Maxwell said that in 1992, the Shufflin’ Grand Dads, which also included Young, performed at a festival in Mainz, Germany, as part of a sister-cities program.

“You can see on the video that it was pretty ho-hum, but when we brought Cosmo on the people got to their feet and he got them so wound up that we had five encores,” Maxwell recalled, “and I swear before the last one I heard the stage manager say, ‘We’d better let them go on again or the crowd’s gonna tear the stage down.’ “And it was Cosmo who got them up and going.”

Cosdon debuted in 1959 as singer of The Sultans, and the band’s 1961 single, “It’ll Be Easy,” was the first by a local group to reach No. 1 on Louisville radio stations. He broke away to start a solo career in 1961 and immediately scored a No. 3 hit with “I’m A Little Mixed Up,” a raw slice of blue-eyed soul.

Young met Cosdon on the recording session for “I’m A Little Mixed Up” and was briefly a member of Cosmo and The Counts, which was formed shortly after “I’m A Little Mixed Up” was released. Cosmo and The Counts became Cosdon’s best-known group, performing off and on for decades.

Cosdon’s voice had crossover appeal, Young said, with a strong rhythm and blues feel. He frequently sang at The Cherry Club in Lebanon, Ky., a successful black nightclub, and was a regular at clubs throughout Kentucky and Indiana.

“He was a natural entertainer and he could just light people up — it was amazing,” Young said. “He could still do it. His voice had gotten better over the years, but it was the energy that he brought that was so impactful.”

“All he had to do was get up on stage and he had the audience in his hands,” Maxwell said. “He did that better than anybody I know of in this area.” 

Contact Jeffrey Lee Puckett at (502) 582-4160, jpuckett@courier-journal. com, and on Twitter @JLeePuckett. 

---

John Thomas "COSMO" Cosdon 22 September 1942--06 September 2013 from Jim Harbolt

John Thomas "COSMO" Cosdon

22 September 1942--06 September 2013

        It is a summer night somewhere in Louisville, sometime in the 1960s or ‘70s, and a party is in progress. A rock n’ roll band – the Sultans? Epics? Monarchs? – is working through its set of dance music, and young couples are working up a sweat doing whatever the current dance craze happens to be. Love is in the air, thick as the cigarette smoke and sweet as the cold beer, and then comes the moment everyone has been awaiting:

“And now put your hands together and let’s welcome…Cosmo!”

And there he is, our very own king of rock n’ roll, already wiping the sweat off his forehead with a white towel as he turns loose that incredible whiskey voice on “High-Heeled Sneaker” or “Hold On, I’m Comin’,” or maybe even one of his hits, something like “You Got Me Goin,’” or “I’m A Little Mixed Up” or one of the others that topped the local charts but never went national.

Say what you will about J.T. “Cosmo” Cosdon – and everybody who ever met him has a story or two or three – the boy could flat sing. He was a white guy who sounded black, which is why he was the only white entertainer allowed to perform in The Cherry Club of Lebanon, Ky., the black nightclub where Little Richard, Tina Turner and others made stops on their way to international fame.

Of course, he was equally welcome at the Golden Horseshoe and the Club 68, the low-budget nightclubs down the road that competed for the hearts – and the spending money – of college kids from Louisville and Central Kentucky. But he was a hit everywhere he performed, from Gypsy Village at Fontaine Ferry Park in Louisville to Joyland Casino in Lexington to the dim little joints in small towns in Saturday Night America.

Cosmo was a consummate showman, a natural entertainer who could work a room with the best. He sang sweet love songs for the ladies and hard rockers for the guys. In his early days, when he was fronting The Sultans, he wore a gold lame Nehru jacket. But in his later years, he would usually just show up in a black shirt. No costumes or tricks for him. Just good ol’ rock n’ roll, soul, and rhythm n’ blues.

As rock singers go, Cosmo was not what you would call a pretty boy. He wasn’t tall and his body expanded, through the years, where he couldn’t really get mad when somebody would call him “the round mound of sound.” He also grew a beard that turned from gray to white as the years went on. But looks never mattered when it came to Cosmo. It was all about the music and the show. Nobody ever left a Cosmo performance unhappy.

Truth be told, a lot of guys wanted to be like Cosmo. He saddled a horse in the 1969 Kentucky Derby, for heaven’s sake. The noble steed’s name was Rae Jet, and he finished last, far up the track from the victorious Majestic Prince, but he was there. That’s what mattered. And woe be the the journalist who ever spoke ill of Rae Jet, as my friend Jim Bolus once did in a story about the worst horses ever to run in the Derby. You want hot? Cosmo was hot.

After he gave up training, he still hung around the horse business. He was a fixture on the backstretch at Churchill Downs the week before the Derby. He worked a while as a jockey’s agent, then spent some time as a bloodstock agent. For a guy like Cosmo, the gypsy-like lifestyle of the racing game was perfect. He loved the action and the hustle. He identified with people looking for a way to get a little edge on this tough proposition known as life.

But, mostly, the reason a lot of guys secretly envied Cosmo was that he always was his own man. Unlike the majority of us, he rejected the 9-to-5 life so he could be his own boss, beholden to nothing except the sometimes erratic beat of his own drummer. He never got rich, or even close to it, and he didn’t care. All it took to make him happy was a pretty woman on his arm, a wad of cash in his pocket, and some good whiskey to wash down the laughs.

The closest he came to the business world was when he owned and operated The Head Rest on Frankfort Avenue. It was a refuge for musicians, hippies, street people, jaded journalists, and lonely hearts. You could always count on finding some great jukebox music there, and, if you were lucky, maybe somebody who could share your broken dreams, at least for a night.

Nobody had more fun than Cosmo. On the golf course, he acted like Titantic Thompson, the legendary hustler who would bet anybody on anything. This wasn’t necessarily the smart thing to do, considering that his game never reminded anybody of Jack Nicklaus. But Tommy didn’t care. Win some, lose some – so what? All that mattered was the fun of it.

Being a local rock icon and saddling a horse in the Kentucky Derby is a pretty good exacta for one lifetime. But there was more to Tommy. He had a serious side that he was loathe to reveal to even his closest friends. Behind the façade he presented to the outside world – a little rough around the edges, irascible, jaded – Cosmo was a softy. He was a sucker for underdogs and for people who were down on their luck. He also loved cats, horses, and little kids.

No telling how many wedding receptions and private parties he did for little more than beer money. He was kind and generous, but just didn’t want anybody to know it. His whims had to drive Tommy Jolly crazy. For years, Tommy was Cosmo’s business manager and a horn player in his band. He shared Cosmo’s love for music and for performing. They never thought about getting rich. The fun and the love was reward enough.

When Cosmo began his career in the late 1950s and early ‘60s, every town in the nation had a kid or a band that wanted to be the next big thing. To become a national celebrity, to get an invitation to appear with Dick Clark on his “American Bandstand” TV show, all you needed was one song, one sound. The “one-hit wonders,” as they were known, were the meteors of the music world, blazing brightly for a short time before vanishing back into the nothingness from whence they came. Does the name Phil Phillips (‘Sea of Love”) mean anything to you?

Cosmo deserved at least that much national fame simply because he was a legitimate talent. He had the pipes and the presence to hit it big. But he never got that one song, that one break, that’s essential in the cruel and whimsical world of pop music. He got close, ever so close, but something always happened to keep him in Louisville, where he was the darling of WAKY and WKLO back when those stations were playing the local artists over and over. 

But nobody should feel sorry for Tommy because his story is not a sad one. There is something to be said for being a local star. When you think about all the senior proms, sock hops, reunions, and weddings that he played over 50-something years, it’s possible to make the argument that he brought happiness to more people than any single Louisvillian of his generation.

Even when he was fronting for the Sultans, the Counts or another group, there was no question that Cosmo was the star. All he had to do to kick a party into high gear was hit the first note. He was equally at home strutting under the bright lights of a big stage or getting down in a dark and sweaty club where the beer flowed in a golden river and the parking lot was as good a place as any for a fight.

Louisville will not see his like again. Society has changed too much. Much of what passes today for music is an affront to Cosmo’s version of “Summertime” or “Unchained Melody.” Kids and young adults don’t go dancing anymore, so there’s no Gypsy Village or Colonial Gardens. Nevertheless, good ol’ rock n’ roll is hardly dead. It’s just on Medicare, that’s all.

As Tommy became progressively ill, his body shrank and his voice was reduced to a barely audible croak. It was difficult for his friends to imagine that the good times were over because Cosmo, throughout hundreds of concerts, had promised us they would last forever.

But, in a sense, he was right. They’ll last at least as long as there’s anybody still around who can remember what it was like when Cosmo was in the house and it was showtime and here came that voice, sending us off on another night of fun and love and good ol’ rock n’ roll.

Jim Harbolt

Please pass this along to friends and fans of our friend, Cosmo!

Ronnie Haig

You all may remember Ronnie Haig and hopefully have read other posts on the blog about him and his music and his connection to Louisville .
Ronnie continues to create and we are pleased to present to you some of his latest .
On August 25 , 2010 , we did a blog post you may want to see as well .

http://louisvillemusicicians.blogspot.com/2010/08/ronnie-haig-sessions-at-chess-records.html

Wilson Pickett's Grave in Louisville , Ky

Wayne McDonald and I were talking today and Wayne mentioned that Wilson Pickett was buried in Louisville . Your humble blogger did not know that but thought that you all should know too . You never know when a bit of trivia may be useful .

Wilson Pickett

Birth:	Mar. 18, 1941 Prattville (Autauga County) Alabama
Death:	Jan. 19, 2006  Reston , VA
Legendary Soul Singer, Composer. He was dubbed “The Wicked Pickett” my radio DJ’s and fans, for his gruff power, raw groove and growling energy he brought to R & B music for over four decades.He first performed in the gospel harmony group the Violinaires in the 1950s and became a member of the Falcons in 1959. Their hit "I Found a Love" helped Pickett make a deal with Atlantic Records and the hook up with renowned producer Jerry Wexler at Stax Records. There with Steve Cropper, the guitarist in Booker T and the MGs, he co-wrote "In the Midnight Hour" a 1965 number one hit.In 1966, he followed with the classic hit, "Mustang Sally, a cover of "Land of 1000 Dances," "Funky Broadway," 1967 and the telephonic hit "634-5789." By the early 1970s, he had released several cover hits to include, The Beatles' "Hey Jude" and "Sugar, Sugar" by The Archies.His last hit song was "Fire and Water" in 1972.Through the 1980s, he continued to be a popular figure performing for jazz and soul music showcases.In 1991, he was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and received a Grammy nomination for his album, “It's Harder Now" in 1999, which also received three W.C. Handy Awards, the in-genre trophy for blues and soul recordings.On January 18, 1999, he was inducted into the Alabama Music Hall of Fame and received a life time achivement award. For the film "Blues Brothers 2000," he performed at the Los Angeles and New York premieres of the movie.(bio by: John "J-Cat" Griffith)  Pickett died from a heart attack on January 19, 2006 in Reston, Virginia. He was 64.He was laid to rest in a mausoleum in Louisville, Kentucky at Evergreen Cemetery on Preston Highway. Pickett spent many years in Louisville when his mother moved there from Alabama. The eulogy was delivered by Pastor Steve Owens of Decatur, Georgia. Little Richard, a long-time friend of Pickett's, also spoke about him and preached a message at the funeral.He was remembered on March 20, 2006, at New York's B.B. King Blues Club with performances by the Commitments,Ben E King, his long-term backing band the Midnight Movers, soul singer Bruce "Big Daddy" Wayne, and Southside Johnny in front of an audience that included members of his family, including two brothers. More at Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wilson_Pickett
Burial: Evergreen Cemetery Louisville (Jefferson County)Kentucky, USA
Maintained by: Find A Grave Originally Created by: Ashley Bell      Record added: Jan 19, 2006 Find A Grave Memorial# 13067599

http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GRid=13067599

The Rolling Stones In Louisville 11/14/64

There were not many of us that saw the Rolling Stones at Memorial Auditorium on Saturday November 14 , 1964  They did 2 shows without Brian Jones and were touring behind the album 12 x 5 . I became a fan and have followed them along . 

On that album was 2121 S Michigan Avenue . Yours truly wondered about that and then one  day I figured it out . 
Drop me a note if you know what it is , OK ? 



While the Rolling Stones were very popular , the crowd for the Louisville show was about 300 people in a space for almost 1800 . 
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Rolling_Stones_2nd_American_Tour_1964

Yesterday , I saw the documentary " Twenty Feet From Stardom ", the Rolling Stones and a fabulous backup singer , Lisa Fisher , are well placed and there are marvelous sounds .
Here she is on Gimme Shelter ( Incredible and it's a live performance )Lyrics at the bottom *



Information about Memorial Auditorium 

The creation of Louisville Memorial Auditorium was the outgrowth of two movements: one for a public auditorium, the other for a memorial to commemorate the deeds of the sons and daughters of Louisville and Jefferson County who served their country in World War I.

The Louisville Memorial Commission was created by the Kentucky Legislature under Chapter 23 of the Acts of 1922 (KRS 97.630 through 97.780) for the purpose of administering the construction, maintenance, preservation and day to day operation of Louisville Memorial Auditorium. The first Louisville Memorial Commission was appointed by Louisville Mayor George Weissinger Smith. The Commission has been directing the operation of Louisville Memorial Auditorium for the benefit of Louisville Metro Government and serving the Louisville community faithfully and continuously since 1922.

Architect of the Greek Revival building was internationally known Thomas Hastings, assisted by Louisville architect Thomas Hutchings. On Memorial Day, May 30, 1929, Louisville Memorial Auditorium was dedicated. Within its walls Louisville’s cultural life flourished.

In 1954, the Louisville Board of Aldermen allocated $170,000 to improve the acoustics. The ceiling was lowered and the side balconies were closed off reducing the seating capacity from 2,349 to 1,742. The end result of this major renovation was dramatically improved sound that our patrons still experience today in our “acoustically perfect” theater.

Louisville Memorial Auditorium has two features which make it unique throughout the world. Louisville Memorial Auditorium is home of the World’s Largest Pilcher organ. This historic four-manual instrument with 5,288 pipes is still playing wonderful music today, just as it has been doing since 1929. Louisville Memorial Auditorium is also home to 144 World-Famous flags. These historic flags from World War I and World War II are proudly displayed in 6 beautifully lit flag cases along our carpeted hallway.

Louisville Memorial Auditorium has been designated a Louisville Landmark by the Louisville Landmarks Commission and is on the National Register of Historic Places.

*Songwriters: JAGGER, MICK / RICHARDS, KEITH     

Gimme Shelter lyrics © ABKCO Music Inc.

Oh, a storm is threat'ning
My very life today
If I don't get some shelter
Oh yeah, I'm gonna fade away

War, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
War, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away

Ooh, see the fire is sweepin'
Our very street today
Burns like a red coal carpet
Mad bull lost its way

War, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
War, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away

Rape, murder!
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away

Rape, murder!
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away

Rape, murder!
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away

The floods is threat'ning
My very life today
Gimme, gimme shelter
Or I'm gonna fade away

War, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away

I tell you love, sister, it's just a kiss away
It's just a kiss away
It's just a kiss away
It's just a kiss away
It's just a kiss away
Kiss away, kiss away

New Article from Louisville Magazine Rockin the Roadhouse

We have written about the legendary Club 68  (See June 27 2010 for pics and a June 25 2010 request to add  Hyleme George and Obie Slater   )  before and now  in Louisville magazine is a great article that adds a little more to the story . One of the bands that played there from Louisville were the Bitter Seeds see blog for SATURDAY, MAY 12, 2012

Thanks to the writer Jim Higdon author of The Cornbread Mafia 
Below is the link to the magazine . Even better go buy a copy .
Louisville Magazine Article

OF NOTE -"The Wrecking Crew" docu on the unsung heroes of pop records draws makhers to salute pioneering, pop studio-musicians, including drummer, Hal Blaine on 84th birthday

DemoCast TV News: "The Wrecking Crew" docu on the unsung heroes of pop records draws makhers to salute pioneering, pop studio-musicians, including drummer, Hal Blaine on 84th birthday