Young American

A serendipitous collaboration with David Bowie in 1974 kick-started Luther Vandross' recording career. But he still faced an uphill struggle to succeed as a solo artist. Charles Waring talks to some of the singer's most trusted collaborators about his early years and how he battled to be heard....

It’s Philadelphia, mid-August 1974. In the control room of Sigma Sound, the city’s most famous recording studio, the crucible where Gamble & Huff have been forging their slick Philly soul sound. The 23-year-old Luther Vandross is sitting on a couch with his friend, Robin Clark, listening intently to Young Americans, a new track by British rock star David Bowie. Vandross and Clark are both singers for hire but are not there to work ‒ Clark is married to Vandross’ long-time buddy, Bowie’s new guitarist Carlos Alamar, who invited them down from New York to hang out. Both barely know anything about the soon-to-be-christened “Thin White Duke” who looks like he beamed down from another planet with his dyed red hair and gaunt, pale demeanour. But far from otherworldly, the music quickly engages Vandross, feeding his musical imagination.

He spontaneously begins to sing along and fashions a catchy harmonised gospel-like refrain with Clark, filling the spaces behind Bowie’s lead vocal. Their blended voices immediately pique an intrigued but slightly confused Bowie, who asks Vandross who he is. Vandross apologises. “We’re so sorry, we didn’t mean to interrupt,” he cringes but Bowie politely puts him at ease. “No, by all means, do that again.”

“He should never have said ‘do that again’ because out of Luther’s mind came all these background vocals possibilities,” laughs Carlos Alomar. “Not only background vocals as in, let’s harmonise what you said and sing with you but also adding lyrics to your song in response to what you say.”