Sixty Minute Man

Rufus Thomas

By Natalie Silver

Click unmute. Listen. This is Rufus Thomas, one of the forefathers of the intersection of soul, funk and blues whose career started in Memphis in the early 1940s, a multifaceted and highly skilled musician, singer, dancer, songwriter, comic and performer whose riffs, words and gravelly voice helped form a pillar of American blues and, thus, the very foundation of rock and roll. And you’ve heard him before—whether you are aware of it or not.

He’s been covered by rock’s greatest—and throughout the entire trajectory of the genre’s evolution—through classic rock with The Rolling Stones, Aerosmith, Roger Daltry and the Grateful Dead, into R&B and jazz covers with Georgie Fame and The Blue Flames, later sampled in garage rock with The Sonics and covered by pop-punk pioneers Green Day.

His song “Walking the Dog” alone has been covered almost 100 times, and his 1970 funky number, Sixty Minute Man, was even sampled by Eazy E, who used its iconic bassline as the launchpad for his wrath in “Nobody Move.” 

Sixty Minute Man is a prolonged, slowed down, seven minute cover of Billy Ward and his Dominoes’ 1957 R&B original. The song is a shyly-revealed window into 60 minutes of intimacy and is basically sung through the narration of its itinerary—a sexual experience broken down into rigid, purposeful increments. It’s a tease, sung with a wink within the conventions of old school rhythm and blues. 

Rufus Thomas honors the original lyrics dutifully, with the exception of one small substitution in diction: he changes the word “teasing” to “pleasing,” which happens to also summarize the distinction between the song’s two versions. The original is a tease. It’s suggestive and provocative, but still completely restrained. 

And then there’s Rufus Thomas’ cover, which unleashes the beast peeking behind the ambiguity of the lyrics by using the devices of scat, gravel, animalistic growling, a funky bassline and an added call and response refrain serving as foreplay throughout the entire song. 

I feel my body. 

In doing so, he fulfills the Dominoes’ (intended?) prophecy that was impossible within the culture—and its taboos—of its original release by taking a song that subtly suggests sex and then disrobing it and baring it down, making it scream in freaky, primal satisfaction. 

July 26, 2019