Detroit R&B legend comes to life in bio, 'Fever'

In a city that has always been definedby its music, the Detroit rhythm and blues singer, Little Willie John,was a larger than life chart topper in the 1950s and early 60s. 

His tragic death in prison at age 31made him a music legend, but one that was mostly forgotten except bymusic insiders until now.  

Detroit writer and 1974 Michigan StateUniversity graduate Susan Whitall, who in her new book “Fever: LittleWillie John: A Fast Life, Mysterious Death and the Birth of Soul,”makes the legend of Willie John come to life. It also shows Whitall tobe an accomplished historian and music ethnomusicologist.

But don’t let the word “historian” scareyou away. This authorized biography is as fast paced, enchanting andgritty as Willie John’s own life and his meteoric climb to the top ofthe music charts. His electrifying performances of “Fever” and “NeedYour Love So Bad” helped define rock, rhythm and blues and soul for thegenerations to come. 

Whitall, who also penned “Women ofMotown: An Oral History,” has spent a lifetime writing about the peoplewe listen to, first as a writer and editor of the seminal musicmagazine Creem, where she worked under the tutelage of legendary rockcritic Lester Bangs, then as a writer for The Detroit News.

In “Fever” Whitall does more than tellthe story of Willie John whose performances music critic Dave Marshcalls “erotic.” She takes you to the streets of Detroit in the 1950swhen the area surrounding Sixth and Dequindre was alive with music andnightlife. It tells how Willie John, one of the original bad boys ofearly rock, would move onto the national stage where his singing wouldelicit not only screams, but panties and garters tossed on stage —along with hotel room keys tucked in his pocket.

Whitall has melded meticulous libraryand archive research with scores of interview sessions with friends,family and m usicians who knew and played with Willie John. She relatesB.B. King’s observation about the influence Willie John had on women:

“Girls was crazy about him because hecould sing, and he had that something about him. So a lot of us wantedto be near him so we could get the girls.”

Admirably Whitall doesn’t duck the toughparts of Willie John’s life and career. Like many musicians he wouldend up in a personal train wreck, leading him to prison and death. 

In the book Whitall recounts how sheheard the music of Little Willie John as a young girl growing up inPhiladelphia. (In the more eclectic musical milieu of Philadelphia,Willie John’s songs were likely to be heard in the top 40 rotation.Willie John would perform “Fever” on American Bandstand in 1958.)

“I know I heard it as a kid — I just didn’t know who it was,” Whitall recalled. 

She said his music percolated within her over the years.

“When I was coming up in Creem writerslike Nick Tosches would throw him (Willie John) into his writing, andanyone worth his salt knew who he was,” Whitall said.

It would be nearly two decades laterwhen Whitall was writing about music for The Detroit News that the potwould begin to boil for her.

She said it happened after she hadmentioned Little Willie John in one of her news stories and Kevin John,Willie’s son, called to thank her for remembering his father. 

But it wasn’t until several years laterat a Rock & Roll Hall of Fame event that Kevin, who was also there,would ask her if she had ever thought about writing a book about WillieJohn — she agreed. 

She and Kevin interviewed the familyearly on. She began intently researching the specific area of Detroitwhere Willie John grew up and began his music career.

“I wanted to give people an overall feelto the sights and sounds of that area and put people in that world,”she said. “I listened to people over and over to find out what he ate,what he did and about the physical layout of the area.”

Probably one of the most famous coversof a Little Willie John song was “Fever” by Peggy Lee in 1958, the sameyear it charted for Willie John.

Whitall always had in the back of hermind when she was writing “Fever” that she would be under scrutiny fromher contemporary music writers, mainly her friends who worked at Creem.

“I knew I would be swimming with the big fish and guys who will kick your ass if you get it wrong,” she said.

“If you are going to write it (a music biography) you have to show respect and be rigorous — it really does deserve that.”

As an example, when she repeats along-told story about Bob Dylan hearing Willie John sing in Detroit sheis careful to point out the several inconsistencies in Dylan’s story. Alesser biographer would have repeated the story without reservation.She doesn’t say it didn’t happen, but Whitall makes it clear it’sunlikely it happened as he told it. 

Whitall said the book isn’t just aboutWillie John or his music. It’s about the times, racial relations andDetroit, which are woven into the book.

"I knew I had to engage all the senses (of the reader) and I really wanted to do that.”

This past weekend at a Book Festival inAnn Arbor where Whitall was on a panel discussion on the counterculture she said, “Detroit has always been counter culture.”

“We have always been counter culture by just being wherewe are. This is where the stories are-this is where the history is,”she said.

In her new biography of Little WillieJohn, Whitall has added immensely to that Motor City history. The bookincludes a foreword by Stevie Wonder, an affirmation by David Marsh andthree sections of photographs; now if Chrysler would just do one oftheir ads with “Fever” in the background that would complete the circle.