Jackie Wilson was key in helping bridge the gap between an old-style R&B and a new incarnation of soul. Even Elvis Presley knew why Wilson was called "Mr. Excitement": Elvis once said that seeing Wilson perform made the King want to "hide under the table." I tried to see Wilson live whenever I could.

The most spectacular Jackie Wilson show I ever saw was at Harlem's famed Apollo Theater, around 1960. The theater was so crowded that there wasn't even standing room. When he took the stage, adorned in a magnificent white suit, he spread his arms open wide, as if trying to embrace the entire room. He started singing the opening notes of his song "Doggin' Around." The audience broke into screams. Even the way he casually held his hands while singing was hypnotic. His dancing was spellbinding -- twists and splits that left me in total disbelief. Quickly soaked in sweat (nobody knew how to sweat as good as Jackie Wilson), he took off his jacket and pretended he was going to throw it to the crowd -- and he knew exactly what he was doing -- creating a pure sexual enchantment. In the audience were not just teeny-boppers but real women: women who wanted it and knew where they could get it. And what they all wanted and needed that evening was Jackie Wilson.

He seemed destined for such greatness, and yet his life ended up playing itself out like some cheap B-grade film noir. There were sex scandals -- a jealous lover once shot him -- as well as tax problems, drugs, divorce and mob associations that made demands he couldn't refuse. While performing at the Latin Casino, in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, he had a massive coronary and hit his head hard as he fell. At the hospital, he lapsed into a coma. He remained in that state for eight years, unable to communicate except by blinking his eyes, as the people around him fought over his estate, before he died in 1984.

I had the honor of inducting Jackie Wilson into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. As I waited backstage to present my speech, I was approached by three women. They were arguing with one another as to who should be the one to go onstage and claim the award that was to be given to Jackie. Their fighting turned ugly and threatening. Even after death, there was something haunting and restless. Mr. Excitement would still not have peace.

[From Issue 946 — April 15, 2004]

Next: Carl Perkins by Tom Petty