Gerald Levert - R.I.P.

[Root Doctor]

For the most part, his records didn't do him justice. In person, he was an old school soul man straight out of church. RIP, Mr. Levert.

Sultry-Voiced R& B Balladeer, Songwriter Gerald Levert, 40

By Matt Schudel
Washington Post Staff Writer
Saturday, November 11, 2006; B05

Gerald Levert, 40, a smooth-voiced rhythm-and-blues singer whose top-selling records recalled the heyday of an earlier R&B era, died Nov. 10 at his home in Newbury, Ohio, outside Cleveland. A Cleveland TV station and music Web sites reported that he had a heart attack.

Mr. Levert (pronounced luh-VERT) was born into R&B royalty as the son of Eddie Levert Sr., a founder and lead singer of the O'Jays, a group that achieved wide fame in the 1960s and '70s. The younger Levert found success by updating the stylish, melodic music of his father's generation and delivering soulful, romantic ballads that made him especially popular with female fans.

During his career as a solo artist and with the trio LeVert, he sold more than 10 million albums, five of which were certified platinum. Five of his songs reached No. 1 on the Billboard R&B charts, and 11 made the Top 20.

One of his most popular hits, "Casanova," reached No. 4 on the general pop charts in 1987 and was featured in two films: "Fatal Beauty" and "The Pick-Up Artist." Mr. Levert appeared as an actor in the 1991 film "New Jack City."

He often performed with other artists, and his 1997 album with Keith Sweat and Johnny Gill, "Levert Sweat Gill," had contributions from Faith Evans, LL Cool J, Busta Rhymes and Lil' Kim. It sold more than 2 million copies.

In 1992, Mr. Levert had an unexpected No. 1 R&B hit with his father, "Baby Hold On to Me," and in 1995 they recorded a top-selling album, "Father & Son." With nearly identical baritone voices, they often toured together for years afterward.

The elder Levert advised his three sons against entering the music business, but Gerald devoted himself to music from an early age. (His brother, Sean, became a member of LeVert and a record producer.)

"He didn't push me to do this," Gerald Levert told The Washington Post in 2002, referring to his father. "He was just there to make sure that when I fell, he was there to help me up."

Mr. Levert had a minor hit in 1985 with the small-label single "I'm Hot," which led to his signing with Atlantic Records a year later. He would remain a popular live performer for the next 20 years.

In concerts, women screamed his name as he tossed teddy bears into the crowd and, in a signature move, playfully spanked himself. Rejecting the dark, misogynistic tone of much of today's R&B and hip-hop music, Mr. Levert favored the impassioned, lyrical style of an earlier generation.

Mr. Levert sometimes borrowed elements of hip-hop, country and classical music to season his songs about longing, betrayal and love. His lyrics often showed an unabashed, if old-fashioned, respect for women. In his 2000 hit "Mr. Too Damn Good," which reached No. 1 on the Billboard R&B charts, he sang: "Baby, I'll open doors for you any time, because that's what a man's supposed to do."

The chunky Mr. Levert was known to many of his fans by his nickname, G-Bear. At the time of his death, he was making a reality TV show in which he was losing weight along with 12 of his female fans, who were training with him at his palatial home.

Mr. Levert was born in Philadelphia on July 13, 1966, and grew up in the Cleveland suburb of Shaker Heights. His father traveled with the O'Jays throughout much of Gerald's childhood but sometimes took his son with him.

"I was exposed to a lot of great things because my dad took me on the road a lot," Gerald Levert told The Post four years ago. "As a little kid, I saw Gladys Knight and the Pips, Marvin Gaye, Flip Wilson and Richard Pryor, and it taught me a lot about performing, about timing, about just being able to capture a crowd's attention."

He began performing in high school in Ohio with his brother and a friend, Marc Gordon, as LeVert. The trio, known for a lush, romantic sound, recorded seven albums, four of which went platinum.

In his early 20s, Mr. Levert launched a separate career as a songwriter and record producer, and he was responsible for more than 15 No. 1 songs by other artists. He received a Grammy nomination for writing "Practice What You Preach," which was a No. 1 hit for Barry White. He also worked with Patti LaBelle, Anita Baker, Stephanie Mills, James Ingram, Teddy Pendergrass and the O'Jays.

Explaining why he branched out beyond singing and performing at a young age, Mr. Levert said, "The hardest thing about the business is trusting people, and that's why it's good to establish yourself as more than just an entertainer."

In addition to his parents and brothers, Mr. Levert's survivors include four children. He was never married.

[Squaredancecalling Steve]

I enjoyed him in "Standing In The Shadows of Motown" R.I.P.

[Ron Thorne]

Originally Posted by Squaredancecalling Steve

I enjoyed him in "Standing In The Shadows of Motown" R.I.P.

Me too, Steve. I got that DVD on the recommendation of SinginSumo.

He was a wonderful singer, not unlike his Dad.

R.I.P., Gerald Levert~

[Enforcer]

Wow, he was much too young. I saw Gerald perform at the State Theater in Detroit back around '89, I think. It was around Christmas, and he was opening for his father's O'Jays. Like Root says, the records don't do him justice. He was an old school soul cat. The girls were throwing panties up on stage and he worked the crowd like a master. An old girlfriend had gotten tickets and we were in the luxury suite right next to Mike Ilitch's (the suite was owned by her dentist, who offered her the tickets). It was a great time, a night to remember.

RIP, Gerald.

[Lilsis]

I don't know how much I can stand!! One day Ed Bradley, then the next, Gerald LeVert. My thoughts and prayers are with their families. How painful!!

[zemry]

Yeah, it's been a bad week.

[Gentle Giant]

didn't know much about him, but I loved the O'Jays. What a shame going so young. Interesting that he grew up in Shaker Heights, as that's where I'm spending Thanksgiving this year. Curious to see if and how the city memorializes him.

[gonzo]

what relevance does that have to the post??!!

[Gentle Giant]

Originally Posted by gonzo

what relevance does that have to the post??!!

The thread is about the passing of a man whose father was in the O'Jays and who grew up in Shaker Heights. I said I loved the O'Jays and soon would be in Shaker Heights.

What was the relevance of your post?

[Captain Hate]

He was talking about a post of mine, which I deleted, for not weeping uncontrollably or something.

[gonzo]

YEAH!!!! i was talking about captain hates DELETED post. i'll meet in the school yard at 3 if you don't like it!!!!!! just kiddin.....

[Gentle Giant]

O.I.C.

[Squaredancecalling Steve]

Fri, Nov. 17, 2006

Son, there's still nothing like that sweet soul music

BY LEONARD PITTS JR. (Miami Herald)


One day, maybe 20 years ago, I ran into Eddie Levert. Eddie, a charter member of the legendary O'Jays, is one of the greats, a singer of thunderous power. Back then, his son Gerald was just starting out as a professional singer but already, people were remarking how much he sounded like his father.

''You better look out,'' I told Ed. ``He's gaining on you.''

''Aw, don't tell that boy that,'' growled Eddie. ``It'll go to his head.''

For all his feigned indignation, he couldn't hide his pride. You saw it in him whenever they performed together, the son mimicking dance steps he grew up watching from backstage, or egging the father on with vocal dives and climbs and barrel rolls straight from the old man's own playbook.

So my first thought was of Eddie last week when the news came that Gerald had died of an apparent heart attack at the absurd age of 40. I can't imagine what it must be like to bury your son. Frankly, I don't want to know.

LOW PROFILE TO SOME

Gerald Levert's death wasn't big news in every neighborhood; he was a black R&B singer with little if any profile on white pop radio. But if you are black and of a certain age, it was the kind of bulletin that made you pull over the car.

We live in an era where music is largely impersonal, a cut-and-paste, machine-tooled artifice. Moreoever, we live in an era where black music in particular is often a police blotter or a sex act or a product placement, but, less frequently, a love song. Still, some of us remember when black music was about soul and soul was about truth -- particularly the truth of How It Is between women and men.

We used to call them begging songs, baby, baby please songs, for how they promised moon and stars to a woman if she would just give you the time of day or pleaded with breaking voice and teary eyes for another chance after you fooled around and hurt her.

Truth to tell, they weren't just songs, they were relationship how-to manuals. And Gerald sang them like his father's son: Baby, Hold On To Me, Mr. Too Damn Good, Made To Love Ya.

In him, you heard echoes of soul that came before, echoes of Eugene Record of the Chi-Lites asking, Have You Seen Her? and Lou Rawls vowing You'll Never Find Another Love Like Mine and Wilson Pickett promising good loving In The Midnight Hour. You heard the ghost of Luther Vandross singing Here and Now, Ray Charles swearing I Can't Stop Loving You and Barry White, smooth and chocolate like a human Dove Bar saying, I've Got So Much To Give.

These days, black music produces fewer songs that cherish women. Oh, there are plenty of sex songs, plenty I love your butt songs. But baby, please is becoming a lost art.

I'm reminded of a talk I had with my middle son a few years ago. The Temptations had come on the radio singing Ain't Too Proud To Beg, David Ruffin swearing to sleep on the woman's doorstep if she would just give him another chance. My son shook his head. Didn't matter how bad he was hurting or how much wrong he had done, he said, he could never sing a song like that. As far as he was concerned, he would always be too proud to beg.

THE BEST PART

I told him that sometimes begging is the best part. I told him that sometimes making up justifies breaking up. I told him that love requires vulnerability. He could not be convinced and after awhile, I stopped trying. Me, I think things were better in black communities when there was more baby, please on the radio, when we held one another and sheltered one another from the vicissitudes of life. But those days are going: Every singer I referenced above has died within the last three years. And now, Gerald Levert has died, too.

I saw him in concert last year. At one point he came out into the audience and women went crazy, flying at him, wrapping themselves around him with a need deeper than sex. Baby, hold on to me, he sang. And boy, they did.

My son doesn't know what he's missing.

[Ron Thorne]

Steve, thanks for sharing that insightful, soulful article.