The line moves slowly and solemnly as folks — sistas mostly — swap memories of seeing Luther in concert and share the often touching stories and life lessons behind their favorite Luther songs. They work their way up the block, past all the old buildings with dignified stone facades, and finally reach the chapel’s large, polished-wood entrance, where a maroon-clad doorman welcomes them.
Inside, Luther’s voice is crooning over the loudspeaker: “Well I’ve decided I can’t let nobody foo-ool me again....” In the center of the room lies a burnished gold casket covered by a spray of white and yellow flowers. It’s a burst of gilded abundance, like a field blooming with daisies or a night full of stars.
Just past those flowers stands another elaborate floral arrangement in front of a grouping of memorabilia from Luther’s thrilling performances. To the left, a black trunk displays a glittering array of shiny stage outfits in red, silver, gold, and royal blue. Next to that sits a hard black case holding an upright, bulbous microphone. This is Luther’s prized Sony C800G, the $8,000 mike he always used when recording.
At the center of this tableau is a platinum plaque for Luther’s most recent studio LP, 2003’s Dance With My Father, which has sold more than three million copies worldwide. The success of this album, which found Luthermore introspective than ever, is just another sign of how, at 54, he left us much too soon.
If you were around when Luther first hit in 1981, you will never forget the way the song “Never Too Much,” from his solo debut of the same name, would rock a backyard barbecue, block party, or basement jam. Luther’s warm, smooth voice issued a rapid-fire syncopation of lyrics: “Love is a gamble / And I’m so-o glad / That I-am winn-in’....” And the rolling groove and tapping beats reflectedall that was grand about the age of pressed designer jeans, roller skates, and shoulder-perched boom boxes. Like Michael Jackson’s “Rock With You,” “Never Too Much” stands as an exemplar of early ’80s R&B cool.
Still, as much as Luther made us dance - young’uns and old heads on the floor cutting up together - he also made us think about love, the kind we had, the kind we prayed for, and the kind we never recovered from losing. “A House Is Not a Home,” also from Luther’s first album, exemplified this impulse. In just over seven extraordinary minutes, Luther takes us on a journey, starting slowly, plaintively detailing all the ways his life has been stripped of the intimacies that make it worth living. Then, he builds to a soaring cry, an expression of our universal thirst for companionship and affection: “I’m not meant to live alone.”
This song and all the other romantic and lovelorn slow jams that followed - “If Only for One Night,” “So Amazing,” “Here and Now,” to name a few - established Luther as one of the premier balladeers of our time, blessed with a piercing vulnerability that was unlike any other male R&B singer before him. It’s what made him “Our Luther,” the one who gave us tunes that we will long live, work, love, cry, praise, reflect, and hope to, and the one whom we will never stop missing.
Do you have a "Luther Moment," that you want to share? Click here to tell us.
To Read The Rest of This Story, Get This Issue At Your Local Newsstand Now! Do you want VIBE delivered to your home or office? CLICK HERE.
Also in VIBE’s October 2005 Issue:
- Sole Sister: Olivia - G-Unit’s Ride or Die chick by Lola Ogunnaike
- Wanna Be Startin’ Something?: Michael Eric Dyson and Chuck D contemplate the significance of the Michael Jackson Trial
- NEXT: Ne-Yo, Yo Gotti, Maceo, Raul Midón
- Revolutions: Kanye West, Mashonda, Black Rob, Trey Sonz, Sharissa, Ray J, Killer Mike
- Start: Bobbito plays the tracks. Black Rob states the facts.
- Play: Mama Said: “Be a good father.” By Lil Wayne
- Hot Wheels: VIBE rolls out with this season’s hottest cars.
home
