It's a sad day, children: Remembering Isaac Hayes

It seems like Isaac Hayes was always part of the cultural landscape. I remember seeing him on TV when I was little and thinking he was the coolest human being on Earth. The fathoms deep voice, the bald head, the shades, the flamboyant outfits, the big, muscular frame and just an unshakable air of confidence and authority all contributed to a sense of preternatural cool, a way of being that was far beyond the scope of a Jewish kid from the burbs of Philly. Before I ever heard of Richard Roundtree or blaxploitation, I knew the signature wah-wah sound of Shaft and its obscenity-preventing injunction to "Shut your mouth!"

Of course, years later, I would become familiar not just with the badass John Shaft, but also Hayes' great body of work. He and songwriting partner David Porter wrote just about all the best Sam and Dave tunes, from "Soul Man" and "Hold On, I"m Comin'" to "When Something Is Wrong With My Baby," "You Don't Know Like I Know" and "I Thank You."

Hot Buttered Soul, the huge breakthrough album that put him on the map, contains two of my favorite Hayes moments, both covers that the iconic soul man made completely his own: Burt Bacharach and Hal David's "Walk On By" and Jimmy Webb's "By the Time I Get to Phoenix." The former adds layers of drama to the wistful song that was a hit for both Dionne Warwicke and Aretha Franklin, thanks to an acid-etched wah-wah guitar riff, a skyscraping horn and synth motif and, of course, Hayes' tear-stained delivery. On the latter, a hit for Glen Campbell, Hayes constructs a rambling, spoken narrative by way of introduction to the familiar tune, personalizing the song and making listeners feel as if he were sharing a very intimate moment ripped from his own back pages.

The Shaft soundtrack is something of a mixed bag, containing the amazingly constructed title theme, but also plenty of filler that sounds a bit dated. If you're in the mood for a little time-tripping on a Sunday morning, however, this double-LP will more than fill the bill.

To witness Hayes at his iconic peak, rent or own a copy of Wattstax, the documentary film of the August 1972 concert featuring incredible performances from Hayes, Rufus Thomas, The Dramatics, The Staple Singers and The Bar-Kays. One story has it that The Bar-Kays, who backed Hayes on Hot Buttered Soul, had planned to ride into the L.A. Coliseum on horse-drawn chariots, but the organizers were wary of their upstaging Hayes. They needn't have worried. The man known as Black Moses lived up to that sobriquet, his towering charisma, outrageous outfit (some kind of chain-mail shirt as I remember it) and trademark clean-shaven dome and shades riveting the attention of the packed arena.

Hayes further cemented his rep as the coolest cat on Earth when he took the role of Chef on South Park, showing that he wasn't afraid to make fun of himself and his rep as the smooth ladies man; who could forget Chef's singing about his "chocolate salty balls"? Unfortunately, his tenure with the show ended badly when Hayes objected to its eviscerating Scientologists, and the cartoon's creators killed off the beloved character.

Hayes died Sunday at age 65. If you happen to be up really late tonight (Monday), tune into AMC at 4:15 a.m. for Blues Brothers 2000, which features Hayes as part of the all-star Louisiana Gator Boys band with the likes of B.B. King, Lou Rawls, Koko Taylor, Gary U.S. Bonds and Stevie Winwood (the best part of the movie, and, along with the remarkable sequence that plays along with the credits — performances by Junior Wells, Lonnie Brooks and James Brown — pretty much the only reason to sit through it to the very end) jamming on "How Blue Can You Get" and "New Orleans."