Ernie Isley finds his place among rock royalty text A. Scott Galloway
Known for his searing solo-guitar flights on Isley Brothers classics from “Who’s That Lady” to “Choosey Lover,” Ernie Isley has been responsible for far more of his family’s classics than you might know. A multi-instrumentalist, a deeply expressive singer, a profoundly poetic lyricist, Ernie—quiet as it’s kept—is the most multifaceted member of the family. And with O’Kelly deceased, Rudolph retired, Marvin sidelined as a double amputee due to diabetes, and star lead singer Ronald in jail until 2010 for tax issues, Ernie is currently the family’s last man standing. He is still ready, willing, and able to rock, and is working on his long overdue second solo album. Looking back, Ernie reflects on growing up with Jimi Hendrix living in his house, his evolution from drums and bass to guitar, the meshing of the original Isley Brothers (O’Kelly, Rudolph, and Ronald) with the next generation (Ernie on guitar, youngest brother Marvin on bass, and brother-in-law Chris Jasper on keyboards), the family split that birthed Isley Jasper Isley, and his 1990 solo album, High Wire . What do you remember about your brothers’ early days? After the success of “Shout,” they moved my mother, Marvin, me, and Rudolph’s four kids to Englewood/Teaneck, New Jersey, in 1960. So I was pretty much around them from the age of eight. Once we got older, Marvin and I could go see them at the Apollo. Were you present for rehearsals? My brothers bought the band’s instruments, so they were always in the basement—a drum kit, bass, guitar, a couple of amplifiers, and some horns. We’d be in the backyard playing kickball or softball with our friends. The band would be rehearsing—in the basement or the living room—and we would stop our games to go down and listen when they played certain songs. When did you become interested in playing music?
Around twelve, I got interested in the drums and had an affinity for it. One day, the band’s drummer, Duff, set them up just for me, gave me the sticks, and told me where to put my feet. I told him, “I can’t do that,” but I caught on to various beats. I started playing in their rehearsals—hits of the day like “Knock on Wood” and “You Keep Me Hanging On.” At fourteen, I played my first gig with the brothers in Philly. I also played for Martha and the Vandellas that night. We played “Danc- ing in the Street,” and everyone that could stand up was rockin’! And that was after the Isleys. In between the two acts, my brother Kelly handed me a bill and told me to go get a hot dog. I was like, “Fifty dollars!” I went through the back doors, still had on my stage stuff, and these girls scoped me out like I was Justin Timberlake. “It’s him! He was playing with the Isley Brothers!” I could have had three girlfriends that night. The girls in my school didn’t act like that. It was quite a rush. How did Jimi come into your life in 1963? Somebody told my brothers about a guy in Greenwich Village that could play better than whoever was playing with James Brown, Wil- son Pickett, or anybody we could name. They said he was left-hand- ed and his name was Jimi Hendrix. So they went on a search for this guy. He didn’t have a regular place he was staying. They finally found him and asked him if he’d like to play for the Isley Brothers. He said, “Hell, yeah”—because he was broke. They said, “Play something.” He said, “I can’t, man. I had to hawk my guitar.” So they got his guitar from the pawnshop and bought him new strings. After about three minutes, they could tell he was bad. So they told him, “Re- hearsals start tomorrow in New Jersey.” He said, “Man, I can’t make rehearsals in New Jersey. I don’t have a place to stay.” They told him to get all of his gear together and come stay in our mother’s house in
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Photograph by Tom Copi, Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images.
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