I like reading biographies and music biographies in particular. I enjoy a life’s story of people living by their wits and talents. This book about Jerome Felder, aka Doc Pomus, was extremely well done, not fawning but respectful of a man through difficult circumstances succeeded in providing the soundtrack of my youth. Doc Pomus had a huge influence on popular music in America for over fifty years, and today his songs are present at many social functions, concerts and wherever singer and musicians congregate.
You have to admire the tenacity of a person dealing with cards life has dealt, and it’s not a good hand. Born first generation Jewish parents, in 1930’s New York, he contracted polio at an early age. Jerome, in his bedroom with limited mobility, immersed himself in rhythm and blues records, notably Big Joe Turner, and as a 14 yr old, unknown to his parents, made his blues shouting debut at a Harlem nightclub afternoon jam session. He was well received and so inspired; he created a persona of Doc Pomus and worked for little pay in the music halls, nightclubs and dive bars of Harlem, Bed-Stuy, Grenwich Village and New York at large, as well as Newark, NJ. He was on the same stage as many of greats of Jazz regularly thru the late 40’s and 50’s.
He wrote a blues song, Lonely Avenue, and it was recorded by Ray Charles, sparse with limited accompaniment, as Ray insisted. He sensed the words were the story and needed no additional flash. The publishing rights brought in much needed small royalty checks and Doc started to consider a career as a songwriter. He teamed up with his younger cousin, pianist Mort Shuman, got an office in the Brill Building where composition of American popular music was centered. Their timing was perfect as the rise of rock and roll exploded and singing talent from South Philadelphia (Fabian, Connie Francis, Bobby Darin, etc.) were provided teen age angst love songs like “Why Must I Be A Teenager In Love”. They wrote for Elvis – “Little Sister”, “Marie’s the Name of His Latest Flame”, “Mess of Blues”, "Suspicion" and many more. But their songs were best presented by the Ben E. King and the Drifters with “This Magic Moment” and “Save the Last Dance for Me” - a song about his wedding night. The songbook of Pomus/Shuman is filled with recognizable standards still being sung and played today.
While youthful rock and roll was their bread and butter for many years, it tended to dry up quickly with the appearance of singer/songwriters and the Bob Dylan character who proclaimed “I killed Tin Pan Alley’. The next twenty years were not that swell for Doc.
Through perseverance and his personality he managed to swoon Willi Burke, an aspiring actress soon to be a star on Broadway. For several years they lived a suburban lifestyle, raising two children. As Mort started to stay more and more in Europe and the commute into Manhattan too much, Doc stayed near the Brill in the Forrest Hotel holding court in the lobby with the underclass, the ruffians and colorful characters NYC has to offer, including Rodney Dangerfield. The record and music business was changing rapidly, too rapidly for Doc’s sensibilities. Never holding onto a buck for too long, he found trouble when the IRS came calling, then Willi filed for divorce and the money started drying up. He moved around finding cheaper and cheaper residence, hosting high stake poker games to pay the bills. He had a way to find a large support group, including his new love, Shirlee, who stayed with him to the end. It grew platonic and she married and had children, but she remained a dear friend and loyal.
With Bruce Springsteen recording “Viva Las Vegas” and other artists re-discovering the voluminous songbook of Pomus/Shuman money picked up in the 80’s. He started to get regular projects like a full album of songs for Cher and a partnership with Dr. John who recorded many of their collaborations. He helped the young Bette Midler and took an active interest in the career of Willy DeVille. He grew into quite the ‘karactah’ visiting music clubs nightly around the city. He founded the Rhythm and Blues Foundation recovering lost royalties to long ago singers and performers, notably helping his idol Big Joe Turner.
After decades of cigarette smoking, he succumbed to lung cancer in 1991. Jerome Felder's last words to his family and friends surrounding his bedside were “thank you.” A profound life was well documented in this book and to Alex Halberstadt, I also say, thank you. for chronicling the life of a hard working artist, a man who triumphed over life's adversities and made the world a richer and sweeter place.
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