The Genreless, Perfect Music of Bill Withers

55 years ago today, the debut album from one of the greatest songwriters and American musicians ever came out, albeit on a short-lived label that would be bankrupt due to tax evasion a few years later. This album ushered in a new wave of what was being called soul music—it was no longer enough for the hits of the genre to be something you could (slow)dance to, they also needed a social message to meet the trying times of the ‘70s. This artist would become so frustrated by how his music was stored in record stores—at various times wondering why he wasn’t in “Pop” or in “Folk” or in “Rock,” which he (rightly!) contended was due to his race—that he’d quit while on top, and retire to a life of anonymity. That album, and the artist, is Just As I Am, by Bill Withers.

Born in West Virginia in 1938, William Harrison Withers Jr. grew up in coal mining communities around the state until he joined the Navy at 17. He served for almost 10 years, landing in Los Angeles in the mid-‘60s. Because he was raised on hard work, instead of hoping at a musical career and going all in on breaking big—he found a love of music while travelling in the Navy—he got a series of jobs in factories making airplanes and cars, while quietly writing songs in his spare time.

After fitful starts at a career—singles were released and sank like lead balloons--in early 1970, he finished writing a song that’d be one of his calling cards: “Ain’t No Sunshine.” He cut it to a demo tape, which became a hot item in Los Angeles. Unfortunately, but also fortunately, his tape ended up landing at Sussex Records, which was financed by a businessman named Clarence Avant. Avant was Withers’ early benefactor, financing his record, and convincing Booker T. Jones—fresh off the breakup of Booker T. and the M.G.’s—to produce Withers’ debut, and Stephen Stills—then on top of the world with Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young—to play guitar. Avant immediately had financial problems, and sessions were spaced six months apart due to cash flow. Withers, knowing that success in music was not guaranteed, and being in his mid-‘30s, did not quit his day job. While waiting for the album to be finished, he was laid off from a factory where he was installing airplane toilets.

“Ain’t No Sunshine” came out as a single in early 1971, after radio DJs started playing it more than the song that was its A-side: “Harlem,” which would become the opening track on Just As I Am. But those DJs would make a choice that would bother Withers for the rest of his career and ultimately lead to his retirement in the ‘80s. “Ain’t No Sunshine” is a masterpiece, a ballad of soul, a song of yearning, a breakup anthem for the ages, the song you’d play to an alien to describe what it was like to have the human sensation of a broken heart. But “Harlem” was, at its roots, a folk song, a blistering reportage of the desperation, the income inequality, the landlord’s boots on your neck that unfortunately still comes with America’s most blighted neighborhoods. Withers saw himself as a folk singer who wrote the truth—that might be the truth of life for poor people in Harlem, and it might be the truth of being broken hearted, or, as in the second single from the album, “Grandma’s Hands,” the truth of how your grandma can be your whole world. He didn’t think his music fit into any genre but his own. He was right, but it didn’t make it easier to classify him in stores.   

(You might recognize the beginning of this song from “No Diggity”)

Just As I Am came out on May 1, 1971, with 10 Withers originals, and a cover of Fred Neil’s “Everybody’s Talking,” and the Beatles’ “Let It Be.” Jones’ production is dry, and unadorned, even when there are dense string arrangements: He knows his main job is to make sure Withers’ rich, pillowy voice is the number one thing you hear on every song. By October, 1971, “Ain’t No Sunshine” was everywhere: It was picking up steam and would hit the number three on Billboard’s Hot 100. That month, Withers got two letters in the mail the same day: An offer to return to the plane company that laid him off for $3.50 an hour, and an offer to go on Ed Sullivan to play his song. He chose the latter, and never worked in a factory again.

His next album would come in 1972: Still Bill, his biggest LP of his career. Featuring “Lean on Me,” it would hit number three on the Billboard Top 200. His third LP, +Justments,--one of the best divorce albums of all time-- was his last for Sussex, as the label was popped for tax evasion and ultimately shut down. Withers signed with Columbia, and had a series of major hits on the label, from “Just the Two of Us” to “Lovely Day.” Still, it took him six years to convince the label to let him release his eighth and final LP, Watching You, Watching Me. The label rejected multiple songs and finished albums, to the point where Withers fantasized about blowing the label’s headquarters up. He knew that was time to hang it up; so he kept a low profile, and avoided the spotlight, apart from appearing on a random episode of Criminal Minds, and having Questlove repeatedly publicly offer to produce a comeback album, he kept to his retirement. He passed away in 2020.

Listening to Just As I Am 55 years later, it’s still as perfect as it was when it was released, and still completely unclassifiable. Do yourself a favor and listen to it today. If you’ve never heard it, I’m so excited for you. It’s one of the best ever.