Editor’s note: Publications are rife with lists of people who have notched impressive achievements before reaching certain milestone ages. If you miss out on 20 Under 30, you can hold out hope for 40 Under 40. After 40, though, sorry: You’re on your own. And we don’t think you should be. So, this month, we’re spotlighting local notables who are making inspiring contributions to our community — and who happen to be over the age of 70. Because precociousness is great, but so is perspective.
photograph by jamie harmon
Few sounds in the history of Memphis music are more recognizable than the Rev. Charles E. Hodges on his Hammond B3 organ. He’s a master of tone, using the drawbars to conjure a velvety, liquid sound from the instrument that stamps many Hi Records hits. A recent example came this August, when Al Green released his first new single in five years, a cover of Lou Reed’s 1972 classic “Perfect Day.” It’s practically a duet between the singer’s soulful voice and that burbling, seductive sound of Hodges’ keyboard.
It was a sound Hodges crafted while working with producer Willie Mitchell, who dubbed him “Do Funny” for the distinctive flavor and unpredictable flourishes he would bring to a track. Before working with Green, Hodges cut his teeth in O.V. Wright’s band. Later, many hits by Ann Peebles, Syl Johnson, and Otis Clay bore Hodges’ unique stamp. Those artists also benefited from his two brothers, “Flick” and “Teenie,” who would likewise become integral to the Hi Records sound and the group of players known as the “Hi Rhythm Section.” All three of them grew up under the musical guidance of their father, Leroy Hodges Sr., in rural Germantown.
Perhaps that sense of redemption is why the Rev. Hodges remains so modest today. “It’s nice, feeling like a hero,” he says, “but I’m one of those humble heroes, I guess.”
“My dad was one of the greatest blues piano players in the city,” says Hodges now. “I’m going to say in the world. And I’m not saying that just because he was my dad. I still can’t understand today how he could do the things he did. He played that boogie and he wouldn’t skip a beat!”
But Leroy Hodges Sr. was content to see what instruments his sons took to naturally before he taught them more. “My dad wouldn’t help me until he saw that I wanted to do it,” Hodges recalls. “We brought the piano in the house when I was about 11 years old. And there was about a year where I would get on the piano and just bang it. At about age 12 was when he came over my shoulder. He’d say, ‘No, do it like this.’ And I always watched him. So by 16, I was in the Memphis musicians’ union.”
Hodges went on to help define the Memphis sound, and he’s still in demand as a session organist today, often at the still-thriving Royal Studios where Mitchell recorded so many hits, playing the same Hammond that he did in the ’70s. But those halcyon days of Memphis soul also took their toll, as described in the 2021 biography My Story: Charles Edward Hodges Sr., written by Delois Jackson, a member of the congregation at Unity Baptist Church in Collierville, where Hodges is an associate minister. Reading like a homespun sermon, the book unflinchingly examines the whole of his life, from his rural upbringing to his studio session days, from drug addiction to his own redemption.
Perhaps that sense of redemption is why the Rev. Hodges remains so modest today. “It’s nice, feeling like a hero,” he says, “but I’m one of those humble heroes, I guess.”
