WALKING THE LINE: EXPLORING THE FRAGILE GENIUS AND ENDURING LEGACY OF MAURICE WHITE

In his autobiography Hit Man: Forty Years Making Hits, Topping Charts and Winning Grammys, songwriter David Foster reflects on his encounter with friend and teacher Maurice White in the early Eighties.

Foster was flying high, having made the jump from journeyman session man (he co-wrote Cheryl Lynn’s 1978 smash Got To Be Real) to an in-demand super producer. Rejuvenating Chicago’s career, Foster turned the band with the wicked horn section into platinum power ballad kings. 

Next up was a project with a certain country/pop superstar. Foster recalls sharing his success with White: 

"I remember running into Maurice a few years later. I was producing something for Kenny Rogers at the time and I told Maurice about it, and he turned to me and said, “You know, I never get called for any of those jobs.” Are you kidding? I said, with your track record! “No he said, I don’t get called for that kind of stuff.” And when I thought about it later, I understood what he meant. He mostly produced for black acts. And I think that’s a pity because any group doing any kind of funk owes a huge debt to Maurice. In my life James Brown wasn’t the Godfather, Maurice was."                                                                                                                                                                     

 In 1978, Earth Wind and Fire were the biggest band in the music business. Avoiding the fate of other Black bands who became casualties of tried-and-true formulas, EWF worked with outsiders to keep their material fresh and innovative. Looking to tap into Foster's writing and arranging gifts, the clean-living White invited Foster to his palatial home to work on material, enduring his new partner's chain-smoking and junk food consumption in his presence.

Their union during the I Am sessions proved prolific. In twelve hours, they composed six songs together. Feeling excluded from the creative process, certain EWF bandmates rejected "the white boy's" presence. Incensed over the Canadian-born Foster's ill-advised vernacular ("okay boys, let's take it from the top!"), one band member pulled a gun on Foster during a tense studio session. 

 

One Foster composition (written with Jay Graydon and Bill Champlin) rejected by Berry Gordy and Hall and Oates was destined to become one of EWF's most enduring songs in their catalog. After The Love Is Gone went gold, selling a million copies,  zooming to #2 on the R&B and pop charts for two weeks. Jazz pianist Pat Metheney praised the song proclaiming it the last time a pop/R&B star ever got anything as harmonically sophisticated out to the masses. 

The ballad's success was no small feat. Dance music was at its zenith. A growing schism emerged between pop and uptempo black music unfairly dismissed by critics as disco. Ironically, two big records representing these polarizing opposites---Chic’s Good Times and The Knacks’ My Sharona---kept Love from the number one spot. 

 

 Years after EWF's peak, White eventually got the call to work with labelmates Barbra Streisand and Neil Diamond. During an '84 LA  Times interview ( "Maurice White Still Has The Fire At 44"), White expressed his displeasure that songs he produced for Streisand weren't released as singles and that the material was re-edited without his consent:

"I read Barbra's book and found out that she had gone back into the studio and remixed (re-edited) my songs. This was after I thought they were completely finished. They snuck back and did it and didn't tell me. I wasn't happy with that at all. Obviously, she didn't like the way she sounded. That I can understand. But if you change my work at least have the courtesy to let me know. Finding it out months later in a book isn't the nicest way to find out."

Frustrations aside, Foster's celebration of White rings true. All roads to Black music's commercial rise point to Earth Wind and Fire's mighty front man. EWF's success helped CBS Records corner the Black music market along with a stacked roster that included Teddy Pendergrass (via Philly International), The Jacksons, and Luther Vandross. 

Hit albums Open Our Eyes  That's The Way of the World, Spirit, All N' All and I Am's gold, platinum, double platinum, and triple platinum sales opened the door for future mega-selling Black pop hits like Thriller. Carving out a rare space in an industry dominated by rock acts like Fleetwood Mac and The Eagles, EWF became Black America's first supergroup. 

In his memoir Shining Stars: Braving The Elements of Earth Wind and Fire, Bailey chronicled White’s wise decision to present EWF as a fusion collective with a mastery of various musical styles that had broad appeal versus instead of a typical funk collective subjected to limited industry support. White's leadership ensured that EWF avoided the nefarious contracts, dubious management, and grueling low-paying chitlin circuit shows plaguing Black performers for decades.

                                          

 The band's eclectic vision was partly inspired by White's days as Chess Records session player playing drums behind proto-EWF unit Rotary Connection, an interracial lineup whose psychedelic and esoteric music featured exotic sitar and theremin sounds (and ethereal vocals from a twenty-year-old Minnie Riperton). 

Throughout six albums together, Rotary Connection mesmerized audiences. Poor management decisions and limited regional promotion would stall their career. Rotary Connection songwriter Richard Rudolph (and husband of the late Riperton) discussed similarities between the group and EWF during a 2007 interview with Wax Poetics:

                                     

“And obviously if you speak to Maurice White, it’s no secret where he got the idea for Earth Wind and Fire; it was directly from the Rotary Connection. And in fact, when they went and first performed ---their first couple albums which I believe were on Warner[Bros]---they had a girl singing the high part and then they got Philip Bailey doing the high part and once they brought Charles in, the rest was history.”

                                   CHARLES STEPNEY: THE MASTER                                                                                         

 

"Charles was the coach, I was the quarterback.  He was a friend, coach, collaborator, and most of all---he represented for the band a towering musical standard, helping everybody grow. keeping our true north."

                                                ---Maurice White (2016)

Alongside composer/producer/arranger Donny Hathaway, Charles Stepney is an unsung architect of sophisticated soul. While Gamble-Huff-Bell were perfecting their string-driven Philly Soul, Stepney was doing the same with indie Chess Records over in Chicago.

Merging classical strings of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, emerging technology, and exotic instrumentation, Stepney shattered Black music's glass ceiling. Stepney was intent on preserving its integrity as a legitimate art form. Challenging creative restrictions placed on R&B, Stepney had little use for what he described as just “five guys playing in the background and monosyllabic lyrics---like James Brown grunts that went back to the cave.”

 Stepney preferred clarity over power. To him, rock music was “ear pollution." He praised  Peter, Paul, and Mary folk stylings and the complex horn arrangements of Blood Sweat and Tears and Chicago Transit Authority. He challenged music critics slandering ambitious Black music as “overproduced” while branding Beatles records as revolutionary, boldly calling out the Fab Four in a 1970 interview in Down Beat:

 "I guess it’s no mystery who the real talent behind a group like the Beatles were—their manager George Martin! Hate to shatter so many balloons but there is no way could those four pool all the instrumentals and electronic complexities of A Day in The Life or Eleanor Rigby and I Am the Walrus. Any trained ear can easily spot the songs the Beatles produced alone. They’re repetitive and shallow, you know---same three chords and that unmodified beat." 

Stepney was equally hard on artists who were long on visual appeal but short on talent: "Some of these artists are musically stupid! I swear you have to stand over some of them and yell out: one, two, three, four-now PLAY! When he finally got a chance to work with the Moog synthesizer after waiting a decade, he wasn't impressed: “Very limited."

Stepney's drive was just as strong as his opinions. Unable to attend Julliard, lack of financial resources didn't deter him. He bagged groceries at a supermarket to pay for textbooks and taught himself to how to arrange music. A student of jazz, classical, Spanish and African styles, Stepney incorporated it all into his musical repertoire, integrating indigenous instruments like African water drums into his work. 

One product from the motherland prominently featured in EWF recordings bore the name of a company formed by Stepney and White: Kalimba Productions. The two often engaged in kalimba freestyle sessions in Stepney's smoky basement studio.

There's a difference between EWF's pre-Stepney compositions and his future work with the group. Entrenched in jazz, folk, and rock, early EWF percussive workouts like Power (1972) were free-flowing and copped riffs from James Brown’s Ain’t It Funky Now (1970). When Stepney climbed aboard, things became more refined. 

Yearnin Learnin (1975) bounded funk with churchy piano chord intros and horn bursts that could have doubled as film scores. Ringing church bells and chorale vocal harmonies gave Open Our Eyes a gospel vibe that would have been right at home on Aretha's Amazing Grace album.  

White likened his mentor to a "professor" whose classical training mixed with jazz and gospel textures brought out "a certain amount of class" to the group’s material. Creating full orchestrations in his head along with intricate vocal arrangements--- the music prompted fans to sing along to the most abstract of EWF lyrics without ever deciphering their true meaning.  

EWF guitarists Johnny Graham and Al McKay, saxophonist Andrew Woolfork, keyboardist Larry Dunn, and percussionist Ralph Johnson were capable musicians but Stepney’s coaching and skillful manipulation of their talents made them better.  

 

In 2007, his daughters Neibur and Charlene revealed the origins of the Stepney/White union ("Brilliant Overtones") to Wax Poetics Magazine: 

 "My mom told me even Earth Wind and Fire was Dad’s idea. They actually discussed titling a band after the elements. Maurice left (band leader) Ramsey [Lewis] and Chess and asked Dad for help with the concept. Dad was under contract with Chess so I don’t think he was able to do everything he wanted to do. So actually the first thing he did for Earth Wind and Fire he didn’t credit for. They couldn’t put his name on it because he wasn’t working for someone else. Dad was a real classical musician. He was able to take the genre of jazz, or rhythm and blues, or blues, and put it within the context of a classical piece.  But it was just a different genre; the context was the same, of storytelling."

Chess Records label obligations delayed  EWF and Stepney’s official partnership. Stepney worked uncredited until 1974 when he and White collaborated on a staggering six albums in just two years---Open Our Eyes (platinum), That’s The Way of the World (triple platinum), Gratitude (triple platinum), and Spirit (double platinum) and gold-selling debut albums for R&B songbird Deniece Williams (This Is Niecy). 

Stevie Wonder whose Songs in The Key of Love beat out Spirit for the number one R&B album spot in 1976---wrote I Wish After hearing EWF’s Shining Star.  

                                                                

 A diabetic who also suffered from hypertension. Stepney suffered a heart attack during 1976's Spirit sessions. Bypass surgery was a rare thing in the Seventies. Sensing his possible mortality, Stepney worked feverishly in the hospital to finish his arrangements and put in place a musical exit strategy. 

During a final conversation with his daughter, he shared the satisfaction of -providing for his family and fulfilling his musical dreams. Stepney would never enjoy an anticipated post-music life of "eating coconut bon-bons" and buying a home in the West Indies. 

Weeks after his surgery, he dropped dead on the steps of his Jackson Highlands Park home on Chicago’s South Side. His daughter reflected back on the heady times:  

"Well, the Jackson Five had approached him at the time. Barbra Streisand was looking for him! He had so many offers. Elton John. He adored Chaka Khan. So he had lots of vision of what he wanted to do besides Earth Wind and Fire. Sony offered him a record deal---well it was Columbia at the time. When Daddy was in the hospital, they brought lead sheets [for the Spirit album] to his hospital bed. He finished the lead sheets…." 

 

White praised his genius in his memoir Maurice White: My Life With Earth, Wind, and Fire:

  "By the time I asked Charles to come into Earth Wind and Fire he had already written, arranged, and produced a lot of music. He had pretty much worked all the time after joining Chess Records in Chicago. But in the snobbish West Coast business world, people who didn't know the Chicago music scene thought Charles was an overnight sensation. It was insulting he was seen as a johnny-come-lately. If he had lived, he would have moved on from EW&F and gone on to be another Thom Bell or Quincy Jones. He just ran out of time."

                                                       

1976's Spirit album---Charles Stepney's final work.

                                                    

                        

                                                     

                                                              FERTILE  FUNK                                                                                              

The Seventies were a revolutionary time for music. The record industry evolved from a loose network of regional indie labels to a corporate entity with enough capital to indulge in diverse music expression. Multi-unit bands frequented post-hippie rock festivals/ college tour circuits. Their eclectic musical styles were captivating in both live settings and on albums. 

Turned on and tuned in, artists recorded covers of original compositions. Blood Sweat and Tears remade Billie Holiday’s God Bless the Child. Hathaway covered BS&T’s I Love You More Than Words Can Say” and The Hollies’ He’s Not Heavy, He’s My Brother. EWF even recorded folkie Pete Seeger’s Where Have All the Flowers Gone.

After years of pop/rock acts recording their material, The Isley Brothers reached deep in the folk-rock catalogs while recording their Givin’ It Back and Brother, Brother, Brother albums. Santana broke through with Willie Bobo’s Evil Ways and Fleetwood Mac’s Black Magic Woman. There was a transition from singles to album-oriented formats. 

 

 Subscribing to the communal spirit of the time, bands were more friendly competitors than bitter rivals flaunting musical styles dominating progressive FM radio formats. 

Always looking to fine-tune his conceptual aspirations, White paid close attention. Whether being blown off stage by Funkadelic or soaking up War’s Latin rhythms and proto-reggae---each encounter pulled White closer to his musical destiny.

                                               

 

                                                                             

 

                                                           

 Mandrill’s hybrid of Caribbean-jazz-calypso-classical-funk stood out. 

On fire with their album Composite Truth (1972), the group was universal enough to tour with everyone from salsa act The Fania-All Stars and Miles Davis to James Brown. A big ticket concert draw who headlined over the headliners, they frustrated James Brown to the point where he cut the power during their performance.

EWF gets the credit for blazing the concert arena trail for urban acts and becoming the first band to sell out Madison Square Garden but it was hometown heroes Mandrill that beat them to the punch. During a 2007 Wax Poetic interview (“Beasts from The East”) group members Lou Wilson, Neftali “Nefti” Santiago. and Claude “Coffee” Cave reminisced on their trend-setting ways that inspired their musical peers---including White:

Nefti: “Mandrill was everyone’s favorite band around Jersey, New York. When Mandrill hit, it was like a fire went off. Yeah, you could see the Santana relationship. You could hear the Chambers Brothers and Chicago but Mandrill was playing it all in one set. Mandrill had no problem opening for anyone. Even James Brown at Madison Square Garden. But we didn’t need to. Been there four times already on our own. Sold it out. You’re talking Mandrill town. New York City.

Coffee: “(jazz bassist) Ron Carter was impressed. George Clinton and Bootsy used to watch us, as did Maurice White. I could see the camera goin’ off in his mind! [laughs]

Lou: The combination of the percussive instruments and the funk is a Mandrill trademark. That’s where we were coming from, The Caribbean. The Brooklyn. The funk. That’s what separates us from anyone out there. Clive Davis who worked for CBS, wrote in Billboard that the two things of the future were Bruce Springsteen and Mandrill even though we’d sign to Polydor (note: Davis would sign EWF to Columbia after passing on Mandrill).

  Lou: Let me say this: Every group we played with was significantly influenced by us. I’m not trying to blow any horns here but go back to when we first started to the groups that were happening around 1970. Santana: had percussion, guitar, and Hammond, but no horns. Sly: had horns but no percussion. Earth Wind and Fire: didn’t have horns and had a paucity of percussion---I mean Maurice had that timbale but no wall of percussion like Mandrill from the get-go. And the Funkadelics: maybe one conga and a bell but no horns. After a number of these groups left playing alongside Mandrill, the horns and percussion became significant parts of their presentation.”

                             

As EWF's star rose, one by one their peers faded off the scene. They were no match for the group's cosmopolitan commercial bent anchored by White’s charismatic baritone and Philip Bailey’s ethereal falsetto. In the industry, EWF was backed by the CBS corporate machine and the crack management team of Cavallo, Ruffalo, and Farnogli. With each album and tour, they got bigger and bigger. 

 

                                                                            AS THE BAND TURNS 

                                                                                                                     

 

From the outside looking in, Earth Wind and Fire's utopian brotherhood could do no wrong but now cracks were penetrating the band's unified image. 

Philip Bailey traces their future implosion back to when the band signed their first record deal. Taking management's advice, White would maintain sole group ownership as a buffer against defections plaguing EWF in their early days. With the stroke of a pen,  Earth Wind and Fire ceased to be a group. Now they were a corporation.

Instead of splitting monies evenly, members signed employee contracts and were placed on salary. The group received annual bonuses but additional financial compensation was divvied out based on individual contributions. Under these terms, the band was also shut out of future royalties. White retained all publishing rights and control. 

 

Having experienced inner strife thanks to a revolving door of group members, White's arrangement insulated him from business/ personal conflicts that impacted the Temptations, Parliament-Funkadelic, and Kool and the Gang at the peak of their powers. Over time it would be a source of resentment for some EWF group members. 

In 2016, White, obviously having read Bailey's book---clapped back: 

 

"On one hand, publicly, I would be called a successful no-nonsense leader. And on the other hand---an egomaniac. I understood why some in the band felt that way about me. My truth was that I listened to so many things the band and others on my business team said. EWF should do Johnny Carson. EWF should do Soul Train. EWF should not spend money on going to Royce Hall for strings. EWF should stay longer on tour. Nine African American men with strong opinions, not to mention the business faction---there was never a time when less than three strong and different opinions about what Earth Wind and Fire should do or shouldn't do next. " 

Bailey asserts that monies acquired during contract negotiations for White’s ARC label were never dispensed between band members nor were they awarded company shares or given creative consultation rights despite playing on hits generated by the new label. 

There was one exception---White awarded David Foster multiple songwriter/session/arrangement fees on six of the nine songs written for I Am. He also received healthy percentages on the album as associate producer shutting out the band from lucrative points on the album. 

 

When White built an expensive recording studio/rehearsal hall, he invited managers and label heads to the opening gala but excluded the band. White argued that while he earned the lion's share and dictated how artists' points were distributed, his share was diverted to subsidizing high tour overhead. The band sold out arenas but they barely broke even.

 

 Foster’s James Brown reference was dead on. 

White was a decade older than most of the band members who were barely out of their teens. More worldly in the ways of the road and show business, his singular focus was creating and moving the band forward. More leader/mentor/teacher than a comrade, White holed up in hotel rooms plotting EWF's next move while his mates enjoyed their first brush of success and the perks that came from being part of a successful touring unit. 

As the hits kept coming, compensation and inclusion became an issue. 

Stepney was the first to air his grievances. He resented how credit was distributed on EWF's 1975 breakthrough That’s the Way of The World album. The architect behind the jazzy interludes on EWF albums,  Stepney performed engineer-arranger-producer duties, directed the band in studio sessions, and executed synthesizer programming.   

 

Objecting to being relegated to "associate producer" and "co-producer" Stepney bristled at the fact that White and CBS record man Joe Wessiert received producer and executive producer credit on the band's 1974 Open Our Eyes. 

 In his memoirs, Bailey recalled Stepney’s lukewarm response to being gifted with a gold record by group member Larry Dunn: 

"Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate the accolades from you folks but I’ve done more and greater music than just Earth Wind and Fire. Your credit is much more than the money you make from it. Let me ask you a question. If one cat is a producer and another cat is a producer, then what the fuck is a co-producer?"

In Wax Poetics, Stepney’s oldest daughter Neibur also soured on the work-for-hire dynamic between the teacher and his student:  

"The group wanted him to become a member but Dad didn’t want to. Dad loved working with different people---singers, musicians, and talented people. I even said to him one day, why are you working with Maurice White? Because you have all this talent and knowledge. And so he says to me, he [Maurice] has a commonality that anybody can relate to. And I have a real talent for embellishing that commonality so it works out well.

 He wrote the music and Maurice and the others collaborated on the words. Daddy didn’t write the words. He wrote Reasons for a McDonald’s commercial but it was turned down." 

 

White maintains that Stepney was proud and happy with the money he made on the album. Bailey recalls being torn between Stepney’s "immense talents and contributions to our sound and loyalty to Maurice as our leader." 

In a 2012 film short documenting the late producer’s musical contributions, the Stepney family cryptically alleged that copyright percentages were changed after their father’s death denying the family compensation for material Stepney worked on during his time with the group.  There were also claims that an oral agreement between Stepney and White entitling the family royalty shares was also violated.  

White responded to the accusations stating that Stepney was paid for his contributions and that there was no oral agreement established to share royalties.

                                                    

 EWF's lucrative touring afforded the band the ability to purchase boats, cars, and homes. With his earnings, White invested heavily into real estate, purchasing a lavish six thousand square foot home on a 10-acre California compound in Carmel, a four-level condo in LA, and a home in Bel Air. He extended invitations to certain band members but rarely socialized with others outside of the studio. 

Further complicating things were conflicts over spirituality. EWF Christian members dismissed White's “New Age stuff” as a “pluralistic universalism and harmony” belief system. They were also divided on iconic astrological/Kemetic album cover imagery. Whites liner notes from 1992's The Eternal Dance set detailed EWF's trip to Egypt in the late 70s: "some of the band members hated it.” 

After rebounding from the gold Faces double-album with 81's platinum seller Raise featuring hit single Let's Groove---the group's sales began to slip. Lyrics like “the way to love /is pure celestial” were out of step with post-soul's funky, groove-oriented music. 

Live instrumentation shifted toward more drum programming and synth sounds.The industry was changing. Now White was falling behind. 

 

Jackson and Prince embraced technological advancements in video and film that weren't available a decade earlier. during EWF's prime. Considering video sound inferior, White's chose not to archive EWF's performances. His decision would deny future generations the privilege of seeing the group in their prime. Just like Parliament-Funkadelic and James Brown, very little live EWF footage exists.

EWF’s film appearances were in two movie flops---That’s The Way Of The World and Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, which possibly fueled White's disinterest in film/TV media outlet mediums. Aside from a Panasonic endorsement ad, a boon for a Black group---EWF was nowhere to be found on the small screen. To add insult to injury, their seven Grammy wins were never televised. 

Bailey conceded that EWF "dominated their era with spectacular concert events but Michael Jackson did his throughout the multimedia age through people’s television sets."

White also missed out on playing a part in the solo careers of Jackson and Prince.

 As Jackson was planning his Off The Wall project, CBS Records suggested label mate White as a potential collaborator. Jackson passed and chose  Quincy Jones. A longtime fan of EWF, Prince sought out Ruffalo, Cavallo, and Fargnoli to take him on as a client and possibly sign to White's ARC label. 

 

 After a CBS recruiting tactic backfired (“I can get Maurice White to produce your record”), the independent-minded  Prince signed to Warner Bros (EWF's old label) and even hired White's management team. After interest shifted from White to focus on Prince’s Purple Rain film, White amicably split ties with his longtime managers.

For a time, EWF soldiered on, winning Grammys on the strength of soulful singles patterned after 70s hits like Saturday Night and On Your Face packaged for Eighties Black radio. Soon, White abandoned the band’s communal process, calling all the shots in the studio in an attempt to follow in the path of self-contained artists beginning to dominate pop music.

In '76 White’s soaring vocal riffs from On Your Face would influence future hits like Maze’s Joy and Pain (1980). Now, songs like Freedom of Choice (1983) contained animated lyrics and vocals lifted from the Cameo/Prince songbook. 

Grooves were cribbed from songs like Stephanie Mills Put Your Body in It (1979). EWF went from leaders to followers.

 

Years later, a weary White admitted the band should have taken a break after 1979's I Am album. Citing exhaustion from twelve straight years of recording and touring as well as label disinterest following '83's poorly received Electric Universe album, White abruptly retired the group without advance warning. Shutting down ARC and closing his recording complex---he informed EWF band members to retrieve their equipment and uniforms from storage or face property liquidation.

 
Deeply wounded by White's actions---Bailey felt betrayed by his mentor/friend/ teacher, revealing that band members chose to “live in a web of bitterness” due to “lost fortunes, homes, and nervous breakdowns” caused by the breakup--Bailey acknowledged that the collateral damage was partially due to EWF's position as the lone African American group navigating uncharted waters in the sea of popular music. 

 

White’s leadership methods came clearer into focus. Twelve consecutive years of recording and touring. The struggles and challenges of maintaining a sixty-person payroll. Dealing with labels and all the work it took to keep the band running on all cylinders rested on White’s shoulders---eventually took its toll.

 

EWF never received endorsements or corporate sponsorships during its prime. Even though the band sold out large venues and members made a good salary, it paled in comparison to Michael Jackson’s sidemen pulling in $10,000 weekly---less than what songwriter/lead vocalist Bailey---one of the highest paid EWF members ever earned.

Revenue generated from ticket sales, merchandising, publishing, and record sales all went to White. Much of it was reinvested back into the band, covering an enormous overhead that included staging, elaborate costuming, and an expensive sound and lighting system.

White admits burning out, expressing that one of his major failures as a leader was not sharing "his personal misgivings and doubts about the music business and the shelf life of the band." with the group. Upset that EWF and their engineer didn't "get the credit that they deserved," White criticized the "black tax" EWF experienced as a top-tier group fighting to obtain equal promotional budgets as white acts.
 

During the industry recession, White struggled to keep his record label, studio/sound stage complex, and recording/touring components afloat. The industry branded the clean-living White arrogant and snobbish. Black concert promoters labeled him a sellout. 

 

While visiting his manager's estate, his manager's wife told him to "keep those platinum records coming baby---that way we can pay for the courtyard we're having built!"---he felt used. Looking to appear in control of the EWF movement---in retrospect he believed it made him seem "coldhearted and indifferent" to what his band mates were going through.

Bailey sensed the break-up was also due to White’s probable frustration and anger at a changing industry and the perception that he might have been bigger than the band. 

White maintained his decision to place the band on hiatus was planned and thought out. His decisions were described by his estranged partner as a response to being “over-leveraged and overwhelmed."  

During an interview with the LA Times a year after the breakup, White offered his own reasons:

The band is on hiatus, we had worked together for over 12 years. It's just time to do things on our own. I don't want to be forced to do an album because of a contractual obligation. We'll probably do something together again but I don't know when, maybe the end of this year, maybe next year. Who knows?"

"I knew while I was making it (Powerlight---the band's last album) that it was time for me to do something else," he said. "The creative juices weren't flowing freely. Plus I had to get the album finished quickly because we had to do a tour.

At the end, it was really rushed. The whole experience wasn't right. I knew I had to get away from the band. So I changed my focus. My main goal now is to achieve certain individual status for myself.  I can produce jazz, pop, rock, R&B;, you name it. Or I can go back to work with Earth, Wind & Fire and play to audiences of thousands and thousands of kids at a time. How many old men can do that?

The band's hiatus caused a rift that lasted for years. When Sony (formerly CBS) came calling for a new album four years later, the balance of power shifted. Bailey was no longer the impressionable young charge in awe of his mentor. He had a solo R&B/gospel/pop Grammy-winning career surpassing White's.

 Now, Bailey insisted on a mutual partnership ("I will work with you, not for you"). In '84 Bailey characterized White as a "hard-nosed" and "no-nonsense" in working situations. Now they were co-pilots embarking on a new musical journey together. After three decades in music, it wasn't the industry grind that slowed White down for good, it was Parkinson's Disease. His energy was sapped while on tour. After shows, he was whisked away by members of his trusted circle. He needed help signing documents. 

White eventually passed the reigns over to Bailey, brother Verdine, and percussionist/vocalist Ralph Johnson---granting them licensing rights to the EWF name and retiring from active touring with the band.

 History frames music legends as singular orchestrators and masters of their destiny. It minimizes historic collaborations across genres: Duke Ellington's legacy as a prolific jazz composer overshadows major input from writing partner Billy Strayhorn. 

Classic albums from Stevie Wonder and Marvin Gaye featured synthesizer programming, songwriting, and creative ideas instigated by others. Imagine Michael Jackson’s Thriller without Quincy Jones's masterful curation of team players. 

The careers of the Isley Brothers, George Clinton, and James Brown were reinvigorated when they recruited younger musicians and songwriters into their camps. After enduring a revolving door of older group members, White would finally do the same---locking in his classic group line-up.

White must be given credit for his leadership. It enabled EWF to stay the course while many of its peers fell to the wayside. He took chances and crossed musical boundaries creating a legacy that ex- band members still eat from today. White's quest for high-quality diverse music and injection Kemetic imagery broke down walls for Black artists in terms of artistic presentation and creativity.  

 Maurice White was a symbol of artistic independence and interdependence. He was a catalyst for those who came after. Reese wasn't a perfect leader but he was damn near close. He didn't just create a band. He created a brand.  

Just eight years younger than the dictatorial James Brown, White was a man from a different time. His experiences as sideman/ session player shaped his leadership and compensation practices. 

Partner Bailey concedes that White took the risks and shouldered all the behind-the-scenes logistics that set up Earth Wind and Fire's success and longevity.

These days as Black bands continue to be extinct, Earth Wind and Fire’s trail-blazing path has become much more meaningful. As they continue to pack stadiums into their fifth decade, their visionary leader legacy continues to illuminate. Like a shining star.

                                                            

                                                      Maurice White (1941-2016)