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The San Quentin Prison Album That Should Have Been a Classic
Listen if you like: Khruangbin, Curtis Mayfield, Heatwave
Fifty years ago, in the wake of the 1971 killing of Black Power activist George Jackson, a friend of his at San Quentin State Prison named Ike White released an album called “Changin’ Times.” The six-track LP paid tribute to Jackson’s revolutionary spirit and captured the era’s brew of soul, psychedelia, jazz and pop.
Long relegated to obscurity, “Changin’ Times” is finally getting the attention it deserves: For the 50th anniversary of its pressing, Rhino Entertainment re-released it earlier this year. And a new book, “The Midnight Special: The Secret Prison History of American Music,” situates White among better-known musicians with prison ties like Tupac, Leadbelly and Johnny Cash.
The book’s author, Colin Asher, told me the California prisons that shaped White’s music were remarkably porous compared to today.
“There were tons of weapons, it was dangerous, and the guards said lots of racist shit,” he said, “but also Ike White could get a keyboard and play all night.”
At San Quentin, the warden held weekly tours for members of the public, who were allowed to eat in the cafeteria, tour the state’s defunct execution chamber, and watch prisoner bands perform. White played in those bands.
Born to a Black father and Mexican mother, both professional pianists, he played more than one instrument by the time he got to prison at age 19. After his conviction for the 1964 killing of an Oakland grocery store owner, John Stavropoulos, during a botched robbery, he tried to hang himself. But “music gave him purpose,” Asher writes.
While George Jackson and other friends were studying Karl Marx and organizing strikes, White was directing a church choir, writing songs in multiple styles, and going by the name “Ikedelic.”
These two worlds, of radical politics and music, merged in 1971, when White helped organize Malcolm X Day, a concert for more than a thousand men at San Quentin. Muhammad Ali gave a speech, and Curtis Mayfield played a set. White guested behind blues singer Jimmy Witherspoon and War’s lead vocalist Eric Burdon. The concert was recorded, so you can still hear White’s guitar solo — and the crowd’s explosive reaction.
Word got to producer Jerry Goldstein, who made plans to record White’s album. The administration at Tehachapi State Prison, where White had been transferred, let them convert a vacant building into a recording studio. (Other outside producers were making similar efforts to record The Escorts in New Jersey and Power of Attorney in Pennsylvania.) Drummer Greg Errico, who had just left Sly and the Family Stone, agreed to produce the album and play on it, as did Santana bassist Doug Rauch.
The title track of “Changin’ Times,” which we’re featuring this week, is nearly 10 minutes of pocket grooves and patient solos. White is a charismatic singer, turning on a dime from the personal to the political. “Oh the times they are changin,” he sings, nodding to Bob Dylan before looking inward: “Got to find someone who needs me real strong / I’ve got to change to carry on.” He named two other songs, both instrumental, for important people in his life: his sister, Antoinette, and George Jackson.
While recording the album, White fell in love with his producer’s secretary Debborah. (Asher does not include her last name in the book out of respect for her privacy.) They married while he was still in prison.
“Changin’ Times” was rejected by a series of labels, and White’s producers released the album independently. Stevie Wonder liked the music so much, he paid for a lawyer to help White get out on parole.
And then the story turned tragic. White’s wife died in a car crash with their two children. White then struggled through a series of failed musical ventures and relationships. “He started a new family, then another, and he left each of them in turn — trailed, often, by charges of abuse,” Asher writes. “By the late 1990s, he was playing classic rock covers in hotel lounges and grocery stores while sporting shiny suits and a Jheri curl.”
In the 2010s, a director named Daniel Vernon made a haunting documentary called “The Changin’ Times of Ike White.” Shortly after filming, in 2014, White died by suicide at his home in Oceanside.
Compared to far more famous musicians who found success after their brushes with incarceration, Asher says White’s story reflects what it’s like to struggle after the traumas of prison.
“I have a lot of stories of people who come through the criminal justice system not unscathed but with happy endings,” he told me. “I wanted a story that drove home that prison is not just an incubator of talent. It’s something that does people great harm. Some can survive it and manage to thrive after it. But some cannot, and Ike’s story shows that.”
Liner Notes:
Song: “Changin’ Times” | Album: “Changin’ Times” | Artist: Ike White | Songwriter: Ike White | Guitar, Vocals and Rhodes Piano: Ike White | Electric Bass Guitar: Doug Rauch | Drums: Greg Errico | Produced by Greg Errico and Jerry Goldstein for Far Out Productions | Label: LAX Records