Bobby Womack: The soundtrack of my life, reflects on a turbulent career, Janis Joplin’s final hours

From The Guardian:

Bobby Womack’s career began in his teens in Cleveland, Ohio, when Sam Cooke mentored his family band, the Valentinos. In 1964 he wrote It’s All Over Now, which became the Rolling Stones’ first No 1. He then played guitar on some of the next decade’s greatest records, including Dusty Springfield’s Dusty In Memphis, Aretha Franklin’s Lady Soul, and Sly and the Family Stone’s There’s a Riot Goin’ On. Womack’s solo career flourished in the 1970s thanks to his soundtrack to the blaxploitation film Across 110th Street. Now 68, recent years have seen him sing with Gorillaz and record a new album, The Bravest Man In the Universe, produced by Albarn and XL’s Richard Russell. In recovery from colon cancer, he plays two shows in London this week.

“Janis called me one day, and I’d never met her, ever. “Hi, Bobby,” she goes, “this is Janis Joplin.” Now, obviously I’m thinking, someone’s playing a joke. So, I say, “Hi, this is James Brown, how’re you doing?” But she wanted to record one of my songs with me, and asked me down the studio… I remember her coming and sitting in my car, asking me, where you get a car like this from? And I said, from recording with people like you, honey. And she laughed, and started singing, “Oh Lord, won’t you buy me… ” Twenty-five years later I heard that on a commercial, and that was mind-blowing because the first thing I thought about was her sitting in the car, going, let’s go back into the studio and cut this. And I remember Paul Rothchild, her producer, saying, “Janis, can’t we just do this another time?” And her going, “Ahhh, lets just do it now.” I remember going to her hotel with her, and we stayed up all night, just talking about music… and I’ve got to be honest, I did have drugs with me, but it wasn’t what she did. She was into girls [heroin], and I was into boys [cocaine]… and suddenly the phone was ringing, and whoever the guy was, asked: “Janis, is anyone with you?” And she said: “Bobby Womack”, and he said, “I’m not coming up unless Bobby leaves.” I’ve never understood that. She said, “You’ve got to go.” We’ll get together tomorrow, whatever. And as I was going down on the elevator, I remember hearing him running up the steps. I often wonder to this day who that was … a couple of hours later Paul called me … and said, “Bobby, she’s dead.” Stories like that, true stories, make you write, have something to say, have something to live for. They turn your life around.”

Continue reading the rest of the story on The Guardian