Aural History: The Underappreciated Legacy of Charles Stepney

A new archival record revisits previously-unheard demos of the virtuoso record producer who brought sumptuous symphonics to R&B and was at the forefront of new electronic frontiers before his untimely death.

Written by Ethan Rubenstein

Image courtesy of Bandcamp

Minnie Riperton’s 1970 single “Les Fleurs” has made a resurgence in recent years as a popular needle drop, appearing in projects from auteurs among the likes of Jordan Peele, Paul Thomas Anderson, and Donald Glover. It’s easy to hear why: The majestic orchestral arrangements, syncopated horn hits, and Riperton’s operatic four-octave soprano range creates a spine-tingling effect perfect for a proverbial mic drop at the end of any movie or TV episode. However, not many will recognize the name of the genius behind the song which reshaped the possibilities of popular music.

Born and raised in Chicago, Charles Stepney began his career in the 1950s as a jazz vibraphonist. Struggling to make ends meet as a session player, Stepney almost considered leaving the music industry altogether before becoming creative director for Chess Records. A classically trained musician, Stepney brought a knowledge of complex music theory and a willingness to push the boundaries of avant-garde genre fusion to the table. His band, Rotary Connection, was one of the first interracial psychedelic rock bands. The group launched Riperton’s career, who had previously been working as a label receptionist. Across six albums, Stepney experimented with sitars, tape distortion, and a partnership with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra that became a part of his lush trademark sound. This bridging of the gap between classical and popular music both anticipated and heralded the wave of progressive rock that would dominate the 1970s.

Not only did Stepney ambitiously look towards the future of popular music, he reinvented its past. In the late ‘60s, he attempted to revive the careers of blues legends Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf with psychedelic-influenced albums that were controversial among many genre purists and even the artists themselves. The latter artist hilariously decided to title his album This is Howlin’ Wolf’s New Album. He Doesn’t Like It. He Didn’t Like His Electric Guitar At First Either. Stepney also ruffled some feathers when he collaborated with doo-wop quintet The Dells on their 1972 album Sweet As Funk Can Be. “We were completely out of our bag,” the group’s bass vocalist Chuck Barksdale recollected in a 1984 interview with Goldmine Magazine, “It was like an experimental album. Some experiments work and some fail, and that was one of the failures.”

Often considered his magnum opus, 1970’s Come to My Garden saw Stepney reuniting with Riperton for her debut album alongside several other former Rotary members rounding out the session players. While the recurring botanical theme gives the impression of a holistically conceived concept album, it is surprising to discover instrumental versions of most of the songs featured in previous Stepney-produced albums. However, the polyphonic melodies are never more potent than on Garden, a commercial flop upon release that has since been hailed as a hidden gem.

Stepney’s career was tragically cut short in 1976, when he passed away at the age of 45 from a heart attack in the midst of recording Earth, Wind & Fire’s seventh studio album, Spirit. The record culminated in a trilogy of collaborations with the band, many of whom had started their careers in the ranks of Chess session players, and the title track was dedicated in his memory.

Photo courtesy of International Anthem

However, the release of a posthumous archival record last year titled Step on Step marks an unexpected second act for this virtuoso ripe for rediscovery. This anthology of demos, compiled from his basement home recording studio, offers an intimate side of Stepney’s artistry that stands in contrast to his usual maximalist flourishes. The album features a series of beats created on a then-cutting-edge Moog synthesizer fresh off the assembly line, as well as early blueprints for classic Earth, Wind & Fire hits. Additionally, certain tracks offer footnotes from Stepney’s daughters, who paint an intimate portrait of both their father’s home life and his creative process. On the track “Mini Mugg,” his daughter Eibur Stepney recalls that “He was a sci-fi fanatic. He studied the physics of music, all the different frequencies, and their effect on human behavior.”
Step on Step isn’t merely a rare peek at a master at work, but part of a larger multimedia effort to honor Stepney’s legacy that includes a four-part documentary web series and a repertory concert series. Even with these giant strides towards reappraisal, there are still more riches to be unearthed: His only classical symphony, titled “Cohesion!,” was never recorded despite having been performed by several major cities’ orchestras from 1968 to ’70. This might be the crowning achievement of Stepney’s career, who not only revolutionized “Black genres” such as R&B, blues, jazz and soul but proved that Black artists could excel in genres like rock, country, folk, and classical where they have systematically been shut out, as well as pioneering proto-genres such as electronica that had yet to exist in full form.