In 1966, Lee Anthony founded Soul Brothers, the first black-owned record shop in Arkansas. He become a major distributor for Memphis record labels and helped to expand the listening market for music by black artists. In 1968, he founded TRUE SOUL RECORDS, drawing together a cadre of talented Arkansas musicians, and established Little Rock as a major recording destination in the South. Prized for their gritty, soulful funk, TRUE SOUL singles have become hot wax for DJs and record collectors internationally and will soon be available to the public. In conjunction with Now Again Records, Lee Anthony will reissue his rare TRUE SOUL singles on a two-disc compilation sometime in 2010.
For the first time in over forty years, the TRUE SOUL house band will reunite for a special performance at “A Night of Arkansas Stars” concert in Argenta hosted by THE OXFORD AMERICAN. The TRUE SOUL Revue will perform at Cornerstone in North Little Rock on Saturday, January 16, from 10:00-11:00 p.m.
In light of the resurgent interest in his music, Lee Anthony discusses the history of his label with THE OA, sharing his most memorable experiences, his hopes, and his regrets over the years.

THE OXFORD AMERICAN: How did a small-town boy from Forrest City first get started in the music industry?
LEE ANTHONY: Actually, it first started with me going to Chicago for the summer after my freshman year in college, and my first part-time job was working at a record shop there. The person who owned the record shop hired me because I told him I knew how to sell records. That was my first experience in music retail. From that I got the idea: This would work in the South. After I completed college, I moved to Little Rock and needed some income badly. I really wanted to open up a record shop, but I just needed any kind of business. So I opened up a shoe-shine stand with the intention of converting it into a music business. I bought a shoe-shine stand on 16th and High Street. When I went into the shoe-shine business, I didn’t do too well because I didn’t know how to shine shoes—I thought I knew how, but I really didn’t—and all my customers were going to someone else. I was trying to hold them and went to this jukebox company that had at least a thousand used records. They would sell them to me for twenty cents apiece, and I in turn would sell them three for a dollar. That’s when I came up with this idea for a “Record Shine.” They’d buy a record and get a free shoe shine with it. People bought into it and they started coming back. Eventually, they started asking for new records.
THE OA: That’s a very original business model, the “Record Shine.” What kind of music did you grow up listening to that made you want to go into music sales?
LA: I was born in East Arkansas in Round Pond—actually, Hicks Station. We had an old jukebox in our house….My stepdad would have friends come over on weekends and folks would plug up the jukebox and play records. They’d buy beer and dance. Once I heard a jukebox and the sound it created, it was the most awesome thing I’d ever heard in my life. I’d heard the radio, but it didn’t compare to music from a jukebox. Before I’d even heard blues records, I’d been listening to country & western like the Tennessee Plowboys, Tennessee Ernie Ford, and another guy who could really yodel. Later on, we heard WDIA from Memphis. There was very little blues being played on the radio. You could hear it in the juke joints, but not on the radio at that time. WDIA was the first black radio program we heard, in the late ’40s or early ’50s. Dewey Phillips had a program called “Red, Hot, and Blue.” Phillips was a white DJ who brought the music to the people. He played Elvis Presley, Jerry Lee Lewis, and B.B. King. His music was totally integrated. He had this line he’d always use when he was advertising, “Take a bald head gnat, put him in the wheelbarrow, take him down to the store, and tell him Dewey Phillips sent you.” He was a really hip guy. Everybody loved him, and he was one of the first DJs to play black entertainers. That was who shaped the music taste of my early years.
THE OA: In 1966, you founded Soul Brothers, the first black-owned record store in Arkansas. What kind of demand did your store meet in Little Rock?
LA: Two things: We offered good service and we offered music that other stores didn’t know about or even care to buy. I was able to do a lot of special orders for people who wanted music by blues artists that they couldn’t find anywhere else: Lightnin’ Hopkins, John Lee Hooker, B.B. King, and Bobby Bland. Whatever they’d ask for, I’d find it. We filled a need. Even though I didn’t have a large inventory at first, we would go to Memphis almost every day to pick up the latest releases. We’d drive there after work, go to the wholesale dealers, and that would be the next day’s inventory.
THE OA: How did you come up with the name SOUL BROTHERS?
LA: My business partner Bill and I were on our way to Memphis and we were talking about what we were going to name our store. All these race riots were going on all over the country. The only way to identify the business to keep it from getting burned down was by putting Soul Brothers on the window. Bill said, “You know what? We are like brothers to each other and we got a lot of soul. Let’s call it Soul Brothers!” We agreed on it. When we put that name on the business, it sent a message to all the minorities, and especially the black folks, that we were an active part of the community. The name of the business was an asset to us. The record labels liked it because they knew it was a black store they could test their product in. So we became a testing headquarters for black recorded music. The other stores in town didn’t carry a full inventory of black music. People started trusting us, and we started growing.
THE OA: After opening the record store, you expanded the operation to include a recording studio and named it TRUE SOUL. Where did the idea for TRUE SOUL originate?
LA: Motown had the sound of young America. Stax had Southern soul. I felt that we could come up with our own kind of soul, but it had to be the real thing. We didn’t want to imitate anybody. Motown was known for having a slick, polished sound, Memphis had raw soul, but we had true soul. TRUE SOUL meant straight from the heart, the real thing, unadulterated, not watered down, as close to the source as you could get—true blue, true soul.
THE OA: How did you transition from a record-storeowner to a label owner and a professional sound engineer?
LA: Under the guidance of Sam Phillips [of Sun Records]. When I first went to Memphis looking for a record wholesaler, I met Sam Phillips. I went to his studio to buy some records because it was listed in the yellow pages as Phillips Record Company. I thought he was a record dealer. I went by mistake, and it just so happened that Sam Phillips was there. He asked me about what I was trying to do. He said, “Well, I got a brother who owns a wholesale store.” I asked if his brother would sell to a small store. He said, “Sure he will. I guarantee you my brother will sell you any amount of records you are willing to buy, even five dollars’ worth. He said, “Listen, I’m getting ready to start another small record label called Holiday Inn Records and I’m looking for some good groups. Do you know of any good Little Rock bands?” I said, “No, I really don’t.” He said, “Well, if you ever run across any good bands, I’m interested. Maybe you can make some money doing that as well.” Then he told me how he discovered Elvis. At first, well, I thought he was just making it all up. But he told me all his stories and I realized he knew what he was talking about. He took the money he got from RCA for the Elvis contract and started Holiday Inn. Sam Phillips eventually asked Thomas East and The Fabulous Playboys, a band I represented, to record for his new label. Our very first demo was for Holiday Inn Records. I took my field recorder to Sweet Home High School where the Playboys were practicing in the band room after school. I took the recording to Sam Phillips and he really liked it. He asked me to get them to Memphis. He said he’d pay all the studio fees and cut a demo with four songs. That was the most exciting thing for us and that’s how I got interested in recording bands.
THE OA: What TRUE SOUL group or artist did you really expect to make it big?
LA: Thomas East and The Fabulous Playboys. John Craig, Thomas East, Robert Tresvandt, and Teroy Betton were the members of the band. Ernie Leaner signed them to his label Toddlin’ Town, which was big in the business since they had Alvin Cash, who did “Twine Time.” We thought we were on our way. I was their manager at the time and negotiated the deal. Ernie liked the demos we cut, so he called in a producer and got Andre Williams to produce the song “I Get a Groove.” Andre Williams said, “These guys are going to be stars.” Andre helped arrange the songs and called in a horn section and gave us a great sound. When the song hit the radio, it took off with regional success. That group was an underrated group and could have gone on to be very successful. The problem was everybody was still working full-time jobs and had different responsibilities, which made touring and promoting difficult. Once, we were even booked to open for Aretha Franklin in St. Louis, but the show got cancelled because of a snowstorm.
THE OA: Can you tell me about some of the other local talent that showed a lot of promise?
LA: William Stuckey was another one of the great talents at TRUE SOUL. I thought he was really going to make it big. Stevie Wonder was very impressed with him and expressed interest in signing him. And John Craig moved to California to play with Ike and Tina Turner. Actually, there were several I put a lot of stock in: Thomas East, William Stuckey, John Craig, Larry Davis, Right Track Band, Lorenzo Smith, Geater Davis, and York Wilburn. The artists all had very unique and different talents.
THE OA: In my interview with Al Bell, he spoke highly of TRUE SOUL. What was your relationship to Stax Records and the Memphis soul scene?
LA: I didn’t meet Al Bell when he was in Little Rock. Jocko Carter, a DJ for KOKY, told me about him and told me he’d be a good person for me to know. Al Bell worked as a promoter for Stax. In fact, he was the first black man doing national promotions for a record label. I met him when he first got his job and I told him what I was trying to do and that I was from Little Rock. He was very supportive and suggested that I go back to Little Rock and try to put together a demo studio of some kind. He invited me to go to Stax and see how they did it. He said I could come in and watch them record, and then teach the Little Rock musicians how to do it. If I came up with something really good, he’d try and get the company to listen to it. That was the plan. I remember being in the studio and watching Rufus Thomas and the Staple Singers record. I could attend sessions, and I got to know the engineers and the artists. I met Eddie Floyd, William Bell, and Carla Thomas. When they’d see me, they’d say, “This is the guy from Little Rock who’s got the record shop,” and then they’d ask, “How’s my record doing over there?” I could always tell them how well their records were selling and they liked that feedback. I didn’t have any good recordings of my own until many, many years later, because the business was still in a formative stage. I had to first get recording equipment. Al Bell told me to find some used equipment and recommended that I go by W&W distributors and talk to Ms. Wooten. They were located across from Sam Phillips’s studio and sold me some of Sam’s old equipment. I still have the old record cutting machine that Sam used to record Elvis.
THE OA: Between Sam Phillips and Al Bell, you had some great mentors. Can you describe your studio in its early operating days?
LA: I didn’t have any fancy stuff, but eventually I got my hands on a portable Ampex machine. When I bought that, I just knew I was going to cut some hit records [laughs]. I had four microphones and a room down the hallway, separated by a curtain, that functioned as a control room. I saw what Stax and Sun had and I learned to improvise.
THE OA: In founding TRUE SOUL, did you expect to turn out hits or did you have other goals in mind?
LA: My goal was to find good music and produce one good record that would help get us started so that I could invest in better equipment and be able to pay for better mastering and pressing. I wanted to stay independent until I got a record that would be picked up and distributed by a major record label. While at the record shop, I would see these little independent labels get picked up by major record labels after they sold so many copies. I was hoping my artists would get a good record deal. I started my own label because Thomas East and The Fabulous Playboys got such small royalties. I wanted to help my artists earn respect in the music industry.
THE OA: Did some of your artists get picked up by major labels?
LA: We leased “Funky Music” by Thomas East to a major label, MGM. Clarence Avant of Sussex was interested in signing one of my writers, William Stuckey. He offered me $50,000 for his management contract, but I turned it down after talking to the artist. We agreed not to separate because he wanted to stay with an independent label. Sussex had just lost Bill Withers and was looking for an artist to replace him—play, sing, and write—and William Stuckey fit that description.
THE OA: You said William Stuckey didn’t want to leave and that he wanted to stay with an independent label. Can you describe the arrangement between you and the TRUE SOUL artists you recorded?
LA: We banded together. I agreed to make the recording, pay for the tapes, and underwrite all the recording expenses if they would provide the talent. Everybody would agree to help each other. No artist ever paid for a recording session. There was an open-door policy at my studio. I never turned anybody away. If they had a song, I’d listen to them.
THE OA: As a small black independent label in the South, what obstacles did you face trying to get your product to market?
LA: It was hard. I was competing against Warner Brothers, RCA, Stax, and Motown. They had a catalog, I didn’t. Record stores didn’t want to take a chance, and neither did the DJs. They didn’t want to get stuck with a record that wouldn’t go anywhere, and if they played your record and it did something, they’d worry about your ability to press it. It was a catch-22. If you had a hit record but no distributor, radio stations could lose their license. Radio stations were afraid to play records that weren’t already pressed and had a distributor.
THE OA: What was your biggest press run?
LA: “Funky Music” by Thomas East. We sold about 1,500 records. It began to sell so well, that I couldn’t meet the demand, so I leased it to MGM, which sold around 200,000 copies.
THE OA: You worked with The Conspiracy who later formed the popular funk outfit The Gap Band known for “You Dropped A Bomb On Me.” What was your role in the early career of the Gap Band?
LA: The Conspiracy wasn’t The Gap Band, but included some of the members of The Gap Band rhythm and horn sections. The guys in The Conspiracy were Tony Stevens, Bone Jones, Jimmy Macon, and Wilmer Raglin. Jimmy Macon is still probably the only guitar player The Gap Band has ever had. Bone Jones was the drummer. Tony Stevens was a band director for Tyrone Davis and Johnnie Taylor and was a master musician. Wilmer Raglin was the trumpet player for The Conspiracy who became a horn player for The Gap Band. I have been told that the tracks I cut for The Conspiracy were some of the same tracks The Gap Band got ideas from for their first record.
THE OA: Who was the toughest act to record and why?
LA: Probably Larry “Totsy” Davis. He was a great talent, but it was really hard to get him to focus and get him a record deal. Stevie Ray Vaughn recorded one of his songs, so I worked out a deal for him to open for Stevie Ray Vaughn. On his first show with him, Larry Davis would brag about how he outsang Stevie—and Stevie’s management didn’t like that too much. Larry sang the original “Texas Flood” and Stevie Ray Vaughn looked up to Larry, so he hired Larry to open up for him. But Larry was insulted and said, “I should be the star.” Eventually, Stevie Ray Vaughn’s manager decided it wasn’t such a good idea to have Larry on tour.
THE OA: You recorded several albums by Larry Davis, but they were never released in the U.S. Why?
LA: One blues album was released: LIVE AT J.B. HUTTO’S. It was recorded in St. Louis and released by Blues Interactions in Japan. It was supposed to be an international record deal. It did eventually get the attention of Rounder Records. I was in the process of negotiating a deal with Rounder for Larry, but he decided he wanted to go off on his own. He went into the studio for another label before I even knew about it. That caused us to go our separate ways for a while.
THE OA: Speaking of Larry Davis, you wrote “Down Home Funk,” the Larry Davis track featured on this year’s OA music compilation. How involved were you at the studio as a musician/songwriter?
LA: I was just starting off as a songwriter, writing mostly lyrics for dance songs. I’m not a really polished musician, but any time I’d get the opportunity, I’d start banging on the piano. Some of the musicians would join me, and eventually we’d get a little groove going. If I gave William Stuckey a melody, he’d take it and run with it. Everybody would fall in and we’d have a song. Larry Davis came in and was listening and said, “I really like that song.” I gave him the words and he started singing “Down Home Funk.” We were just having fun. It was so different from his style, and it really stood out.
THE OA: You signed a lot of local artists, but you were also contracted by big-name labels to record their artists. Who were some of the most memorable artists you worked with and put the TRUE SOUL stamp on?
LA: The Loving Sisters from Little Rock were recording for Duke/Peacock. When I finally did invest in 8-track recording equipment, they decided they’d rather record here than in Memphis. They contacted their record label, which allowed them to record with me. We did three projects for Duke/Peacock. Those were released and did quite well. Sometime after the Thomas East record became well known, I was talking to all kinds of musicians who wanted to sign. The craziest thing that happened was when Joe Cobb introduced me to Donny Hathaway. Donny told me he had a lot of songs and was recording with Curtis Mayfield at the time. He wanted to record for me, but I thought he’d be too hard to market. Once he got on the Atlantic record label, he just blew up. He had “The Ghetto” and “Giving Up.” Albert King and B.B. King worked with me in the studio co-producing a Larry Davis album. After that, B.B. King and I talked about opening up a label together and recording Larry Davis on it. He also told me he wanted me to go on the road with him to do some live recordings for him. Larry was very upset by that. He told B.B., “This is MY manager. And I can sing better than you anyway. I don’t need you or your money.” B.B. said “If you don’t need me, then we don’t need to talk anymore about this record deal.” And that was that.
THE OA: Were there big-name acts that you tried to recruit, but failed to get to record with you?
LA: Dee Clark came to Little Rock and stayed for several weeks. He recorded “Hey, Little Girl (With the High School Sweater).” I really wanted to record him and he was interested, but I failed to work it out because I was intimidated by his fame. On the other hand, I was able to get Geater Davis, known for “My Sweet Woman’s Love.” He was a great blues singer and he was looking for a label. He came to Little Rock to talk to me about a deal and he stayed for the next two years. Eventually, he was recruited by another label, but we were trying to get back together a month before he passed away to finish the album he started in the ’70s.
THE OA: Speaking of missed opportunities, I know that you recorded Calvin Leavy, the Arkansas bluesman known for “Cummins Prison Farm.” In an ironic turn of events, Calvin Leavy was sentenced to life in prison while recording an album for you. What’s the story on that situation?
LA: I worked with Calvin Leavy and the Zion 5 gospel group. He was their bass player and arranger. He was doing really well in gospel music and I was shocked to hear about the drug charges against him. I never knew him to do drugs, but they said he was a kingpin. I was heartbroken. He thought it was a minor charge and said, “In case I get tied up for a couple months, let’s get this album ready. When I’m out, we’ll be able to hit the ground running.” I had just set up an overseas tour. I was getting his passport and paperwork ready for the tour when all the charges came down on him. I had also set up a record deal for him with Blues Interactions. It fell apart and he ended up going to prison for life plus fifty years. It was unheard of. And he had never even been to prison—it was his first offense. He’s still in prison. In my opinion, he’s the most over-sentenced person in the state of Arkansas. What they charged him with did not merit him getting that much time. I’ve written letters to the governor and gone down to his parole hearings, but all to no avail.
THE OA: What is the most important trait one needs to be a good producer?
LA: Respect for the artist’s natural talent to help them deliver the music from the heart. The best thing is to encourage them and try to bring the music out.
THE OA: As a small-label owner and recording aficionado, you recorded a lot of music that has never been released. What musical treasures in your vaults are still waiting to see the light of day?
LA: All the artists I mentioned recorded complete albums for me that have never been released. I have a lot of their original music that hasn’t been heard by anyone. The first albums I want to release are by Larry Davis, Geater Davis, and Calvin Leavy. I recorded Calvin Leavy up until the day before he went to prison. There are some great songs on that album because he put so much heart into it. There is a song called “Come Up the Hard Way” that talks about his life. He does gospel and blues on the album. And Geater Davis recorded an unreleased song for me that almost brings me to tears every time I hear it.
THE OA: TRUE SOUL has attained something of a cult status. What is the strangest communication you’ve had with a music fan or collector?
LA: After the DJ Shadow album, ENTRODUCING, which featured a Soul Brothers business card on the inside cover, several people called from overseas wanting to know if there was a real record shop by the name of Soul Brothers. When I told them it was a real place, several callers wanted to order rare and hard-to-find items. Some people sent me a list with up to forty albums. I could find some, but they were mostly collector’s items. That’s when I realized the influence DJ Shadow had was strong and worldwide. Another time, this company out of Japan called Blues Interactions was looking for blues records. I called them back and they were speaking some strong Japanese. One of the owners, Yasufumi Higurashi, got on the phone, and he could speak English. He asked me if I knew about a blues singer named Larry Davis. I told him I worked with Larry Davis. Then, he asked me about Calvin Leavy, and I told him I worked with him, too. He wanted me to get a blues tour together. By the time I got the passports and paperwork in order, that’s when Calvin’s legal matters came up.
THE OA: You kept TRUE SOUL operating from the late ’60s to the mid-80s, which is a respectable run for an independent label. Why did you finally decide to get out of the recording business?
LA: Because of the musical changes I witnessed. The hardcore, profane gangster rap changed musical tastes. It didn’t represent what I wanted to record. I did attempt to record rap. I thought I’d record it if it had a good beat and a good lyric, but right in the middle of the song a string of curse words came out. I turned off the mike and shut the console down and told the artist I couldn’t record him in good conscience. I’m not trying to be puritanical, but I am a teacher and a member of the church community, and I don’t want to promote negative or offensive music. Music is a creative art. Even when it comes out of misery, music is supposed to be uplifting. Profane music is not art, in my opinion.
THE OA: When did you close down Soul Brothers?
LA: After I was injured in the armed robbery attempt in ’98. I was in rehab for over a year, and decided not to reopen the store once I recovered. I didn’t want sell the hardcore rap that had become popular. I made a decision not to carry explicit music, which caused many financial problems for my business. I had to battle what the record companies were releasing, and I wasn’t winning.
THE OA: What do you consider to be the TRUE SOUL legacy?
LA: TRUE SOUL captured music by artists at a period of time that we can’t go back to, and someday someone will hear what I was trying to do. Sometimes I’ll go back to hear the old tapes and stay up all night long just listening. In fact, I ran into some really good songs doing that a few weeks ago. They just blew me away. I know these songs would’ve made a difference for the artists and for the label if people could’ve just heard them.
