Over a decade before he died, Leon Russell began writing a never-completed memoir that highlighted a story of deep humiliation. Upon noticing, at age four, that his genitals looked different from those of his female cousin, the two began to examine each other in a secluded playhouse. That is, until a stern aunt discovered them and, instead of recognizing their play as innocent exploration, proceeded to parade Russell in front of his entire family while accusing him of any number of high crimes and heinous acts. “That incident affected me for my whole life,” wrote Russell, who died in 2016. “I tend to freeze up around any situation that involves people watching me.”
How ironic, then, that such a man would wind up, for a certain time, in rock music’s spotlight. During the core years of classic rock – between 1969 and 1973 – Russell was music’s North Star, pioneering a distinctly American sound that changed the career paths of stars, including Eric Clapton, George Harrison and Elton John. In that timeframe, he created a band that became one of music’s most legendary live acts; made Mad Dogs & Englishmen, for Joe Cocker; stole the show from a white hot lineup of artists at the Concert for Bangladesh; became a star in his own right with solo albums that featured songs that became standards, including Song for You and This Masquerade; and inspired the icon Willie Nelson to create his enduring outlaw country persona. Even before he became widely known, Russell had an esteemed career as a first call session pianist, performing with the Wrecking Crew on recordings by everyone from Frank Sinatra to The Beach Boys to the rococo productions of Phil Spector.
