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Not
Fats or Jackie, He's always Sung like a Rainbow
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by
Daniel Wallace
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In
the dim dinning room of Sam's Restaurant on 45th St.
last Monday night Mr.John Rainbow took the stage. At
80 years old, a throwback to an age when charm and style
mattered, Rainbow walked stiffly under the spotlight
wearing a white tuxedo jacket, checkered bowtie and cumberbund,
black pants and fedora hat cocked jauntily to the side.
The audience, eating and talking, waited patiently, unsure what
to expect.
But when Rainbow took the microphone off its stand and Margery
Eliot began playing a soft jazz riff on the piano, the crowd
fell silent.
"If you could see me now," Rainbow sang in a soft controlled vibrato
that immediately hypnotized the audience. "I think you'd be mine again,
if you could see me now."
One of the few remaining titian's of the jazz swing area, Rainbow
is an East Village resident whose soft ballads and regal voice
have gently persisted amid the din of New York, a city whose
streets hum continuously with the hopes of artist and performers
who have come here to make a name for themselves. Occasionally
these performers rise to the surface of public awareness. More
often their songs sink among the clatter and disappear.
Not so for John Rainbow. A longtime friend of Ruth Ellington--Duke
Ellington's sister-- and former president of the Duke Ellington
Society, Rainbow has performed with Shirley Horn-- the famous
Miles Davis accompanist who passed away in October-- and has
traveled the world with his songs, for which he's received numerous
awards.
His life is a remarkable story of success, disappointment and
ultimately, perseverance.
Rainbow first received recognition for his talent when the music
director of his segregated school in Wheeling, West Virginia,
praised his voice and offered to prepare him for the Major Bowes
Talent Show.
"I was so excited," Rainbow said. "I told her I'd ask my mom and
dad. But my mom said no--because she thought I might win."
Rainbow was 11 at the time. His mother's reticence bears witness
to the racial tensions that still infected America in the 1930's
In 1944 Rainbow was drafted into the Army Transportation Corps
and after sailing 44 days in the Pacific--a "scary" experience
he'll never forget--Rainbow served for a year in Okinawa before
his honorable discharge in 1946. He still wears his veteran's
pin.
Rainbow returned to America facing a bright future. When visiting
his Aunt Leena and Uncle Steve in Cleveland, his older brother
Jim, who is now deceased, arranged for Rainbow to perform on
a local radio show. His family and friends gathered around the
radio in his aunt's kitchen and listened while Rainbow sang,"You
Go To My Head".
"When I came back that night, everyone cheered," Rainbow recalled. "And
this couple Meme and Willy Lewis, who were friends of my aunt and uncle, were
there; and they said," boy oh boy can you sing. You got to go to New York."
The Lewises were friends of Bill Kenny of the Ink Spots and they
brought Rainbow to New York to meet him. Although nothing came
of the meeting, Rainbow fell in love with the city and remained.
He even speaks some passable Ukrainian,which he picked up from
his East Village neighbors.
His first performance in New York came in 1947 at the Apollo
Theater in Harlem where he won first prize in a talent show.
"That
was almost 60 years ago," he said, smiling into the
distance. "I sang the 'September Song.'"
Rainbow
performed sporadically over the next decade in various
African-American nightclubs and then in 1962, on
the Hugh Downs NBC television quiz show,"Concentration," he
won a free, two-week trip to Europe, where he became
a star.
In Copenhagen, Rainbow met Harry Arnold, a prominent European
musician at the time with an 18-piece band, who invited Rainbow
to sing at one of his shows.
"It was great,"Rainbow recalled. "They had me in the papers. And
that was the kickoff for me in Europe."
Rainbow saved newspaper clippings from his performances and,
by tireless self-promotion, sang throughout Sweden, Denmark and
France. He telegraphed NBC, which granted him permission to remain
in Europe for a year, although he had to pay his own way; and
in Stockholm he performed in a music festival after which his
picture in the newspaper bore the caption:
"Johnny Rainbow, black American, star of the show."
Rainbow returned to New York in 1963. He believed he was on his
way to the top. He performed in the Iridium Jazz Club, the Cotton
Club, Small's Paradise, Danny's Skylight Room and the Lenox Lounge.
He acquired a manager named Tommy who brought Rainbow's demo
to different promoters.
But with the changing music scene, and the civil rights movement
barely underway, Rainbow got his first taste of disappointment.
"In those days, if you were a man of color--unless you were Billy Eckstein and
had your own band--you couldn't sing ballads,"
Rainbow said. "I couldn't sing in many of the places I wanted
to, and that affected me."
After a while his manager, Tommy, came back to Rainbow--"with
tears in his eyes"--handed back his demo,and said producers
weren't interested. That same year Rainbow received a Dear John
from his Swedish fiancée,who was supposed to meet him
in New York in '64, saying that she'd met and married another
man.
"That broke my heart," Rainbow said. "I'm still getting over it."
(Rainbow has been engaged four times but remains a bachelor.
He and his former Swedish fiancée remain friends; she
calls him twice a year--on the anniversary of Martin Luther King
Jr.'s assassination and on Rainbow's birthday; and he calls her
every year on her birthday to sing over the phone).
But Rainbow did not give up. And finally out of the rubble of
disappointment, an opportunity arose when, after performing at
the Club Ambassador in 1963, Rainbow was invited to meet a producer
at the famous Brill Building on Broadway.
"I had visions of Rolls-Royces," Rainbow said, pronouncing the word
slowly, relishing the memory. But after the producer glanced over Rainbow's resumé,
he asked him if he could sing like Fats Domino.
"Fats Domino?" Rainbow said."No, I sing like John Rainbow."
"Can you sing like Jackie Wilson?"
"You've heard me sing."
"Can you try?" the producer asked."Don't you even want to try?"
Insulted, Rainbow said no. He did not come from the background
of these musicians. And he had to remain true to his own background,
his own voice.
"I'm sorry Johnny,"the producer said."But your not marketable."
"And boom, that closed the book," Rainbow said. "The Rolls-Royce
dream just blew up into space."
Rainbow, disillusioned and hurt, abandoned the music industry
for nearly two decades. He joined the New York Police Department
and worked for 17 years as a phone operator. He retired in 2002.
But his cynicism did not last. Rainbow has always been a religious
man and, after leading worship for the Manhattan Church of Christ,
of which he's been a member since 1957, his love of music and
performance was rekindled. His started singing again in nightclubs
in 1997. And he's been at it ever since.
At Sam's on Monday night Rainbow captivated the crowd. On his
business card is printed,"See me on stage, and you'll forget
my age." And it's true. He looked into the eyes of a young
girl in front, who smiled, looking proudly toward her friends.
And while he sang his ballads some members of the audience closed
their eyes.
When it was over, the room remained hushed for a moment before
the clapping began.
The Villager is published by
Community Media LLC.
The Villager | 487 Greenwich St.,Suite 6A | New York,
NY 10013
©John Rainbow
E-Mail: RAINBOWVALUE@AOL.com
Telephone: 1(212) 982-8496
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