All language subtitles for Still.Bill.2009

>> Ain't no
sunshine when she's gone.

It's not warm when she's away.

Ain't no sunshine
when she's gone.

She's always gone too long
anytime she goes away.

Wonder this time
where she's gone.

Wonder if she's gonna stay.

Ain't no sunshine
when she's gone.

And this house just ain't no
home anytime she goes away.

I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know,

I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know,

I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know,

I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know,

I know, I know, I oughta
leave the young thing alone.

But ain't no sunshine when she's
gone anytime she goes away.

Anytime she goes awa-aay.

>> Can I take us right back
to when you first started?

How did your recording
career come about?

>> I saved up some of my own
money and recorded myself.

I had never written any songs,
I didn't really know how

to play anything and I
had never sung before.

Not really, you know, in
the shower or some place.

But I just decided it would
be awfully nice to get

in the music business and
then I just walked around

and knocked on everybody's door.

A lot of times I would go in
and somebody would say to me,

"You're too old to
be just beginning."

You know, I was like, 32
years old at the time.

Most of the major record
companies called me up.

But they had a different
idea of how--

they didn't want me
to do anything quiet.

They had this rhythm and
blues syndrome in their mind

with the horns and the three
chicks and the gold lame suit,

you know and I wasn't really
into that, so I thought--

I had a job, you know, so
I thought well, you know,

if they won't let me do
it like I want to do it,

I've got this good job
making these toilets,

I don't need you guys.

>> Making these toilets.

What kind of toilets
were you making?

>> For aircraft.

>> Ah!

>> Yeah, 747 aircraft.

I installed cameras in those
toilets unbeknownst we say

that in slam
to anybody but me.

So if you've ever
been to the bathroom

on a 747, I know you very well.

You understand.

>> Yeah.

>> So, here's all the stuff
that I don't know how to work.

I mean, I
guess the stuff works,

I know how to turn
it on, you know.

Like I can make lights
come on and stuff.

Let's see, yeah, I
can turn that on.

And, let's see, turn this fan
on here to cool that down.

This thing's been sitting here
corroding for about ten years.

I see. Remember I got a bigger
kind of speaker thing here.

Fooling around, let's see.

I was just playing
with all these gadgets.

I have to be careful

that I don't just
wallow in my own comfort.

Probably now, I'm trying to
find some kind of motivation or,

you know, I'm not lazy.

I don't even understand.

I'm trying to give myself
a chance to get driven.

Where just the sheer activity

of doing something just jacks
you up, makes you excited.

I lived a good portion

of my life before I
started to play music.

I had been working at Weber
Aircraft and I got laid off.

Then "Ain't No Sunshine"
started appearing on the radio

and stuff, and it's funny

because I got two
requests in the same day.

I got a letter from my job
saying that I was called back

to work and I got a request
to do the Johnny Carson Show.

>> I like that song, that
was big for you, wasn't it?

>> Yeah, that kind of, uh, got
me off the ham and eggs thing

and kind of tightened
me up a little bit.

>> But, we mentioned
this before,

that you were a craftsman and
you made john, toilets, right?

>> Oh, yeah, it was a good job.

I had a lot of fun doing it.

>> Where does the
fun come in, Bill?

I mean, I mean--

>> Well--

>> People in my own family
were probably surprised

when I was on the radio.

People from-- I had been in the
Navy with, people I had worked

in the factory with, people that
knew me were probably going,

"Wait a minute, is
that that same guy?"

If I would
have gone to work the next day

and told somebody
where I was last night,

I think I'd laughed
out of the place.

All of a sudden, I'm
traveling on the road

and more people are
interested in you than before.

It was just like a
whole other world.

>> You just call on
me brother when you need a hand.

We all need somebody to lean on.

>> Ladies
and gentlemen, Mr. Bill Withers.

>> I just might have a
problem that you'll understand.

We all need somebody to lean on.

Lean on me--

>> Mr. Bill Withers.

>> -- when you're not
strong and I'll be your friend,

I'll help you carry on.

For it won't be long till I'm
gonna need somebody to lean on.

>> New
words started to enter my life

that had never been there
before, like "handsome".

Boy, you sure do
get better looking

when you get a hit record.

I'm telling you that.

>> I want
to spread the news

that if it feels this
good getting used.

Oh, you just keep on using me.

Hey, hey, until you use me up.

Hey, hey,
until you use me up.

Hey, hey, now you're
talking about you using me

but it all depends
on what you do.

It ain't too bad the way you're
using me 'cause I sure am using

you to do that thing you do.

Hey, hey, to
do that thing you do.

>> I had never been in the
entertainment business before.

The first live singing
I ever did was in front

of about 5,000 people.

All of a sudden, somebody
says, "Go to work."

>> Let's give a big
round of applause--

>> Come on in.

>>-- for the one and
only Mr. Bill Withers.

>> Well,
I'm five years old.

Sure am cold.

Mama's out cooking steak,
cooking steak for someone else--

>> What do you see as the
prognosis of your career, Bill?

You know, you'll
become a big star,

you're becoming a superstar.

And do think you can
remain just as you are?

>> First, I have to become
somebody that understands what

"prognosis" means, man.

It's a scary word.

>> Well, how do you
interpret how are things going

to go for you?

>> Oh, yeah.

I'm kind of just letting
them go, you know.

Letting them go and whatever
is given to me if I can do it,

you know, I'll just have at it.

Two or three years into
this, I was in a major mess.

I mean the record
company actually collapsed

out from under me.

Well, IRS came in and then
took the tapes and sold them.

Then, when I went to this
major, big, mega label company,

you walk in, you play
something and somebody goes,

"Why

You got to put some horns on it.

How long is the intro?"

First hit record I had
was "Ain't No Sunshine."

No intro, nothing.

If nobody throws all
that rules at you,

you might make a song
with no introduction.

Instead of singing

about romantic love all the
time, you make a love song

about your grandmother.

Or you make a friendship song,
a la "Lean On Me," searching

through your feelings
and your vulnerabilities

and your strengths
and your weaknesses.

You're already loaded up enough
with the burden of just trying

to find those feelings.

So then, here comes a
whole bunch of guys trying

to tell you what to do with
all their goofy suggestions

and stuff.

They had the R&B black guys,
and then they got what I

like to call "Blacksperts",
that's the white guys

who are supposed to be
"experts", you know,

who have some kind of tap
into your black psyche.

I had an A&R man once that
his big suggestion to me was

that I cover Elvis
Presley's "In The Ghetto."

I was livid.

And as I started to
try to respond to that,

that simple kind of emotional,
vulnerable kind of thing,

kind of got splattered
around there.

I became very
interested, can I still stay

in this business and be
effective and make a living

and not have to play
this fame game?

I wasn't any good at it.

The fame game was
kicking my ass.

>> I see the crystal
raindrops fall and the beauty

of it all is when the sun
comes shining through.

To make those rainbows
in my mind

when I think of you some time.

And I want to spend
some time with you.

Just the two of us.

We can make it if we try.

Just the two of us.

>> Just the two of us.

>> Just the two of
us building castles in the sky,

just the two of us, you and I.

>> I would like to
see us move past

to where you need the validation
of the mainstream so much

until we got away
from liking ourselves.

>> The challenge, though,
is still, once you get

in that mainstream, to
not become mainstream.

That is to say, to remain
your authentic self,

to still make the community
that produced you proud of you.

To not, in the cultural
vernacular,

to become a sell-out.

>> "Sell-out".

I'm not crazy about that word
because we're all entrepreneurs.

To me, I don't care whether
you own a furniture store

or whatever.

The best sign you can
put up is, "Sold out".

>> Sold out.

>> So let's cut-- can we make--
can we make that subservient?

>> Yeah, that's--

>> No that's it.

>>-- give a twist on
the .

>> No, I think what
is saying he'd do,

it is a profound point.

One. One, it's a
Shakespearian point.

"To thine own self be true.

If night follows the day,
thou can be false to no one."

You have been true to yourself.

You don't sound like
Paul Simon on the guitar,

you're Bill Withers because
you come out of your roots.

When you sing Grandma's Hands,
talking about Matty and talking

about grandma taking care
of local, unwed mothers

in Virginia-- West
Virginia, that's real.

That's being yourself.

At the same time now, in being
yourself, you're able to cross

over into a white
mainstream, and they had

to accept you on your own terms.

>> You see, looking
at this thing is--

>> You better be careful.

>>-- not new.

Oh, boy, these pages
are really--

well, I guess this was brothers

and sisters I had
that never lived.

I was the last of 13
kids that my mother had.

I guess I wasn't born yet,
so I'm not in here anywhere.

Grackus Monroe Galloway
was my mother's father

and he was born a slave.

He was probably nine years old
when they freed the slaves.

He worked in the coal mines

but he would never work
for the coal company.

He hauled coal.

Here's Grandma.

Now, I took this
picture when I was a kid,

so you can see what
year it was by the car.

>> Most of us at some point
in our lives have somebody

that means more to us

than anybody else has ever meant
before or will ever mean again.

Sometimes it's a long-legged
lady, if you're a man.

Or some tall, very smooth
man if you're a woman.

But in my case, I learned
how to really love somebody

from just a nice old lady.

My favorite thing that
I've written has to be

about this favorite
old lady of mine.

I'm from
Slab Fork, West Virginia.

You know where that is, right?

>> No. Is that any
place near Bluefield?

>> Yeah, it's near Bluefield.

About 30 or 40 miles, I
guess, from Bluefield.

>> Slab Fork, West Virginia.

>> Yeah

>> Grandma's
hands clapped

in church on Sunday morning.

Grandma's hands played
a tambourine so well.

Grandma's hands used
to issue out a warning.

She'd say "Billy,
don't you run so fast.

Might fall on a piece of glass,

might be snakes there
in that grass."

Grandma's hands.

Ah, them Grandma's hands.

>> Hey, CV.

This is the mayor here,
this is Mayor, CV.

>> How you doing?

How you doing?

>> CV's running the things.

I'm good, man.

>> CV was talking to my
daughter and he was telling her,

you know, "Let me tell you
about your great-grandmother."

>> Right.

>> And so CV remembers her.

>> Grandmother Galloway.

She was a very elegant woman.

She sat on this porch and she
would sing spirituals right

on that porch and
clap her hands.

>> Remember they
called it getting happy.

>> You're right,
right, right, right.

>> There's a saying,
"the sleepy smiling South

with blood on its mouth."

>> Right, right.

>> Well, we weren't
in that South.

This was South, in a way.

Like, when we grew up,
you didn't have to sit

on the back of the bus.

>> Right, right.

>> But we had separate
schools now.

>> Right.

>> You could-- you had
to go to the back door

if you wanted a milkshake
or something from one

of the restaurants uptown.

But the kids, left to our
own devices, we played, now.

We sat here.

That was the dividing line.

>> Right.

>> We were the only two
black families on this side

of the railroad track.

Well, we just integrated the
whole thing by ourselves.

>> That I think all of the black
families basically, like it

or not, most of us had white
people in our families.

>> You know, after you did a
day's work in the coal mines,

everybody was black anyway.

>> Yeah, yeah, yeah,
yeah, well, that's true.

That's true.

Yeah, that's what
I'm saying now.

>> Wasn't nothing but
black people here.

>>
I haven't been

to Slab Fork since about 1959.

Nobody's back there.

No, there's nothing
there much except graves,

you know, and old coal mines.

And I'm really not
too hung up on going

and laying flowers
on dead people.

Let me be very candid about it.

This was a white graveyard.

This is a black graveyard.

>> Hey, Bill Withers.

>> Yeah?

>> What was your brother's name?

>> His name was Earl Martin.

>> Here he is right here.

>> Okay.

>> Earl W. Martin.

>> Yeah, that's my brother.

Well, they give him
a nice stone.

Where do you see those number?

Oh, 1942.

>> Do you vaguely
remember any location

about where your
father would be?

>> No. And I don't know
whether he would be buried close

to Earl or not.

Yeah,
well, Papa, well, yeah.

Hello, bud.

And I'll catch you
something later.

My father taught me, you know,

he put the work thing
in my head.

My mother put the
moral thing in my head.

My father used to have a
little barber shop here

and he wasn't a good barber
but he told great stories.

>> Just
can't keep from crying.

Six years, Lucy.

Lord, have mercy.

That's a long time.

That's a long time.

>> All these houses were
owned by the coal company

and they all looked the same.

>> Absolutely.

>> They've probably
done stuff to them now.

>> The company owned everything.

>> Which was one family.

The coal company got your money,
they paid you, then they got it.

You had to shop.

You shopped in their store.

Now, this was the old store.

>> Yeah, company store.

>> You could buy
everything at this store.

>> Now, this is an exceptional
coal camp from the standpoint

that it still have enough life
to have some people living here.

>> They had a lot of churches.

They had a Baptist church,

then they had a Methodist
church somewhere.

And then they had your
Holy and Sanctified Church.

>> Remember me.

>> I liked my grandmother's
church.

It was spontaneous singing.

There was no programmed singing.

Somebody got up and started to
sing a song, everybody sung.

It was my favorite
kind of singing.

>> Remember me.

Oh, Lord. Remember me.

>> Well, we have walked
these railroad ties, huh, CV?

>> Yeah. Now, if you want

to test how skillful
you are, walk this.

>> Remember that that
used to be the thing,

who could walk the rail?

>> If you can walk the rail--

>> The furthest?

>> I say yeah.

See, that's how to test
how skillful you are.

>> Look at you.

Look at .

>> Yeah, so you-- I
still can walk it, yeah.

>> So, are you doing
tricks and stuff.

>> Yeah. See, that's
how skillful.

>> Now, if you break out a
handstand, I'm leaving tonight.

I'm telling you,
this was like, life, busy, busy.

Summertime come, we'd go around,

dam up the creek,
get buck naked.

>> And go swimming.

>> Go swimming.

And so the girls would
time you out, say, "Well,

it's about swimming time," then
the girls would come down there.

>> Yeah.

>> And stand on the
side so you couldn't get

out of the water
until they left.

>> Right!

>> You know, so it was
just a whole culture

of stuff like that.

>> It's an amazing thing, when
you look back, and you realize

that the world changed
completely around you.

You are seeing--

>> It's gone, brother.

This has gone.

>> You're seeing
what used to be.

>> So we are truly
the last of a--

>> Yeah, we're getting there.

>>

>> Yeah, we getting there.

>> Hey, Bill.

>> Yeah?

>> Hit it one time for me.

Ain't no
sunshine when she's gone.

>> You already hit it.

I can't hit it like you no more.

>> Let me ask you,
do you do any--

do you go on any
tours at all now?

>> The first thing
you said to me was,

"You look like an old man."

>> Right.

>> So, now, how could you tell
me in one breath that I look

like an old man and then in
the second breath tell me,

"You ought to be
out on the road--

>> I didn't know.

>> playing rock'n'roll"?

>> No, no, no, no.

No. I have never understood
how you entertainers could be

on the road

and do every-other-night
or one-night stands.

>> I
don't understand it either,

that's how come I
ain't doing it!

>> Okay, okay.

>>
I've had people ask me

that question a lot.

You know, "How could
you just stop?"

Well, to me, it wasn't
stopping anything.

It was doing something else.

And I mean, I like
music, but I'm not going

to place my whole worth on it.

You know how unhappy you
would be if you thought

that the way you
are is not okay?

I started out my life like that.

I don't want to end
it up like that.

>>
Okay, we're on our way

to get a birthday cake.

>> I'm getting just a "7-0".

I don't want him to have to
struggle to blow out 70 candles.

>> We
are putting this here.

>> It's too big.

>> This doesn't seem
very formal, but--

>> Doug.

>> Yes?

>> You know.

>> You cool?

>> Uh-hmm.

>> Welcome in.

Yeah.

>> But, we still
have to celebrate.

We would love you to
make a gigantic wish

and blow out your candles.

You don't have to
divulge the wish,

but we'd love you
to make a wish.

>>
I'm a senior citizen.

That's okay with me.

I'm okay with my grey
hair and my, you know,

my narrowing shoulders.

To the Country Inn.

The most important thing
is to be okay, you know.

I just want to feel good.

I know what it feels like
not to feel all right.

You know, guilt and
regret, aches and pains.

I'd really like to learn to
accept everything before I die.

>> Hey, Bill.

>> Hey, man, how you doing?

Look out! Oh, Jimmy .

>> What's going on, Bud?

>> How you doing?

Boy, you still look
like a teenager.

How you doing?

>> Good seeing you, Bill.

>> You too, man, you too.

>> It must be your son.

>> Yup, yes.

>> It looks just like you!

>> How are you doing, man?

How's everything?

How's everything going?

>> I'm his daughter, but
last time I remember you,

you held me on your lap.

We went over to your
mom's house.

>> Yeah. How you doing
, sugar?

Well, you could still
sit on there.

You know,
not too long, though.

Not too long.

>> When I wake
up in the morning, love.

And the sunlight hurts my eyes.

>> Great
to see you, how you doing?

>> I'm so glad to see you, girl.

>> And something
without warning, love.

>> Yeah, girl, come here.

How you doing?

>> Bears
heavy on my mind.

>> I'm fine.

This is Delores.

>> Then I look at you.

And the world's all
right with me.

Just one look at you.

>> You're looking good, man.

>> Thank you.

You're looking great!

>> I actually turned 70 today.

>> Oh, wow.

>> Some people are
just born cool.

They'd been cool all
their lives, you know.

Well, I hadn't been
cool all my life.

I was an
asthmatic stutterer as a kid.

One popular thing
is, "Spit it out!

Spit it out!"

And then they have all
these folky kind of cures,

like hitting you in
the face with a dishrag

or something, you
know what I mean.

Really stupid stuff.

You know. I grew up with,
"You can't do nothing."

One teacher said to me once
that I was handicapped.

And I didn't like that word.

So any dreams that I had,
I kept them to myself.

Once you're labeled sort
of a less-than person,

it gave me this crisis
of confidence.

I just wanted to leave,
and then go and start

over with some new people.

The Navy, at that age, you know,
17, seemed like somewhere to go.

>> If you don't
look into your mind.

And find out what
you're running from.

Tomorrow might be just
another day to run.

>> These
are my old Navy buddies.

I've known these
guys since I was 21.

We all met in Guam.

There was not much for us to
do socially, so it was kind

of frustrating because you got
all these young guys, you know,

who had all this testosterone

and there was nowhere
for them to go.

>> Good old Bill.

>> This is the man.

>> You know what they
told me about Guam?

The guy says, "Oh,
you're going to Guam.

There's a woman behind
every tree.

There's only two trees."

>> It was hard on
a brother in Guam.

It was funny times.

That was a whole lot
of life real fast.

You know?

>> Yeah. I was on the way
over I was thinking it.

When I first seen you, didn't
you bring a guitar to Guam?

>> No. No.

I never owned a guitar until
1970 or something like that.

>> Is that right?

>> Yeah, I don't know an
F sharp from Ninth Street.

>> And when you got there you
found that little old bar.

It was-- you were
singing Johnny Mathis,

more so in which
you .

>> Or whatever the
piano player could play.

>> Is that right?

>> Couple of drinks, man,

everybody, you know.

You start singing.

Shoot. Yeah.

But I still hadn't
given it any thought

as to making a living out of it.

>> When you
appeared in my imagination.

>> He's always been
just Bill Withers to me.

And I'm sure that's
what you feel too.

And I don't think he would want
it any different, you know.

>> My real life was when
I was just a working guy.

Just in the Navy, just a
mechanic, you know what I mean.

But the true measure
of any group

of people is how are the
ones that are just people?'

>> You were
here in my memory.

And I love you now
that you're here.

>> I was an aircraft mechanic,
I was in the Navy nine years.

>> Okay.

>> Is that right?

>> I can do masonry and
all these kind of things.

Now.

>> Were you writing songs
while you were doing that?

>> I've written songs working at
McDonnell Douglas sounded like

"Use Me", you know, working
on an airplane and things.

You know, Grandma's Hands,
Weber Aircraft in Burbank.

>> Yeah.

>> Is that right?

>> You understand
what I'm saying?

You're working on the thing
and singing it over and over

to yourself so you don't
forget it before you get home.

>> Wow.

>> You know what's funny?

People say, "Yeah, he wrote
that song about that woman."

I didn't know none
of them damn women

when I was writing them songs.

>> Just in your mind.

>> I couldn't get no women.

I was making 3 dollars an
hour working

in the damn thing!

>> Uno, dos, tres, cuatro.

>>
I was 23 years old,

I was a graduate student,
UCLA, working on my MBA.

And my sister and I decided we
wanted-- actually, it was me.

I wanted to go see
Gil Scott-Heron.

>> You see that black
boy over there, running scared.

His old man's in a bottle.

>> There's a vacant table.

She said, "Let's go sit there."

I said, "It says reserved."

And lo and behold, it
was Bill sitting there,

which I didn't know.

She recognized him.

And that's how I met him.

>> There's
people living in the bottle.

>> You know, I wasn't
star struck at all.

He was this regular,
normal person.

He was interesting.

He was interested in me.

>> Well now
when I'm kissing my love.

Yeah. Thump-a-thumping
in my head.

And now, when I'm
kissing my love.

I close my eyes and
see a pretty city

with a million flowers in it.

>> A lot

of men can't express what
they're feeling and he can.

He can, you know, he's
sensitive but tough.

>> Put
your foot on the rock

and touch your foot, don't stop.

Put your foot on the rock.

Put your foot on the rock
I know you just can't stop.

Put your foot on the rock.

And now when I'm
kissing my love,

feel the blood pumping
in my veins.

Now, when I'm kissing my love,
she's such a tender sender

with her sweet young frame.

Ah, ha, ha.

Well now, she's so
good at what she does.

All she wants to
do is kiss and hug.

She's got me in love and I
can feel my heart just pumping

and skipping.

When I'm kissing my love.

>>
As soon as I figured

out who I was, I married an MBA.

You know what I mean?

The one thing about Marcia is--

Marcia is an optimist in
the face of everything.

>> We live a life that is
comfortable and simple.

And I think that [background
music] Bill never really wanted,

you know all these riches
and material things.

When the kids came
along, he was home a lot.

He didn't do a lot of touring.

There were times when I'm
sure he really missed being

in the business, making music.

But I think that it was
more important for him

to have a life and a family.

He had never had
a family before.

He had his mother, but his
dad died when he was 13,

and I think it was
really important for him

to be a father to the kids.

>> I get a warm
summer feeling walking

through the snow.

Even chilly darkness
has the brightest glow.

And I just love you so.

>>
From very early on,

my father played a
lot of music at home.

Music was never something
that was pushed,

it was just always there.

We had two pianos at home, on
opposite sides of the house.

It certainly was something that
blended the family together.

It was something we all shared.

>> Okay.

>> So you guys have
always --

>> You're the navigator.

>> Okay

>> You're getting the
tour so they're damn good.

>> This was Todd's big day.

He's, you know, accepted
into this law school.

>> Exciting!

>> It's exciting for him
and it's exciting for us.

I really learned about this
whole family thing from Marcia.

I think the older you get,
the more your concerns shift

from you to other people.

So, Todd, so do I have to
start calling you mister

in a couple years?

>> Growing up listening
to my dad's songs was just

like the most peaceful
space I remember being able

to have as a child.

And he kind of speaks
in little poems.

You know, the sky is blue
and I'm happy to see you.

You know just-- he just would
pull it out of anywhere.

Quit crying and start trying.

A lot of times he says,
"Write this down."

He says, "Get a pencil,"
you know, "write this down,"

and I'm sure my mother has
hundreds of little pieces

of paper just all over the house
and just not even full songs,

but two lines, you
know, just a thought.

>> Chuck of gold.

>> Sometimes
he'll call me just to say that,

"I was thinking this and I
want you to make a note of it."

And then some of those things
I think make it into Songville.

>> Let
me in your life.

>> Growing up, I always wanted
to be just like my dad, really.

When I started writing songs,
it just took a lot of courage

to say that's really, secretly,
you know, what I want to do.

>> Paint a
portrait of tomorrow

with no colors from today.

>> I always wanted to
write, but I always thought,

"How could I ever come
close to doing the types

of things that he did?"

Just because I know
I'm a different person.

I knew I wasn't going
to, you know,

sit down the first time I
picked a guitar and write

"Ain't No Sunshine", but I
know what he thinks is good.

I really didn't want to
share anything with him.

I ended up, you know,
playing something for him

when I wasn't ready, and
he was just like, "No,

this is not happening."

It was hard for me because I
needed him to just be my dad

and just say, "I'm proud
of you that you're working

on something, or I'm
excited about your journey."

And I mean it was none of that.

One thing
I always tell my kids is,

you know, it's okay to hit out
for wonderful, but on your way

to wonderful, you're going to
have to pass through all right.

And when you get to all
right, take a good look around

and get used to it,
'cause that may be as far

as you're going to go.

Most people don't know or
don't care who you are.

You know, I think I'm
kind of like pennies.

You have them in your pocket

but you don't remember
they're there.

Nobody knows who I am.

Sometimes if I tell
somebody who I am,

they'll say, "No, you ain't!"

Or people just don't know,
never did and don't care.

I mean I don't work this circuit

where you keep reminding
people of you, you know?

This is my first
tribute kind-of-thing.

>> We're here tonight
for Bill Withers

and his amazing catalogue
of music.

An amazing vocalist, songwriter,
musician, and someone I've loved

and appreciated for many years.

So congratulations, Bill,

and for you for coming
out to support him.

So thank you.

>> Brooklyn's own Corey Glover!

A man we passed
just tried to stare me down.

And when I looked at you,
you looked at the ground.

Now, I don't know who he
is, but I think that you do.

You all know this one.

Dadgummit, who is he
and what is he to you?

Memories take you back

to the good times
when it's over.

And the sad times disappear.

>> It would be kind of rough
right now to just go out there

and just say, "I want to just
see how many people I can make

notice me."

There was a time when that
was, that was it, huh.

I want everybody to look at me
and everybody to want to know me

and everybody is-- there
was a time for that.

This is not that time.

What if I had to get
up from here right now

and about 9 o'clock tonight,

start trying to kick
up a ruckus?

I'm not feeling that way.

No matter how many people
say, "You should feel

that way because-- " I can't.

If I was completely
honest with myself,

I'm probably a little
manic-depressive.

That's why maybe I
might write some songs

that might reach somebody else's
emotions, because I have some.

I have my own.

Wouldn't it be fun to say to
just all of a sudden just jump

up and start shaking it around?

That would be something.

If I just had some
showing-off steroids, man,

you would get tired of
me, you know what I mean?

I just want to.

And I want to.

I want to.

I sit here, I watch other people
show off, and I say, "Man,

I used to want to show off."

If I could just get,
you know, moved to.

I need a little injection in
my showing-off gland, you know.

>> Memories
are that way.

>> And
is he going to sing again?

What is he doing?

I would love to see Bill
sing another record.

There's millions and millions of
people that would love to see,

hear Bill Withers again.

If he wants to do it, fine.

If he don't want to do
it, I respect that too,

because what he's been through,
with the record business

and his life, and to come
through it, I may not want

to sing again neither.

>> In some ways I
think it's really cool

that he hasn't made
a record since 1985.

'Cause if he feels like
he hasn't anything to say,

or he just wanted to focus on
his family and stuff like that,

you've got to define your
priorities for yourself.

>> For me, it shows
the artist that he is.

It's not only about money, it's
about the beauty of the song.

For him not to write a song
for-- any album for 23 years,

from me to him, I say,
respect .

>> It would be great to do
some stuff with Bill again.

You know, it would be, you know,
I've always thought about that.

We haven't played together
for I guess 30 years.

In my career, that was probably
the best times that I had.

>> No telling what might happen.

Bill might, you know, pop up and
the next thing you know we're

in the studio doing
something, you know.

But he is always
doing something,

don't think Bill's
not recording.

He is doing something,
he is writing.

It's in his blood, you
know, he's writing.

Just like it's in my
blood to play this guitar,

it's in his blood to write.

So, hey man, something
might pop up, you know.

I'll stay optimistic, you know.

But until that, I'll
keep on grooving.

>> The hardest thing
to be in a--

in song writing is to be
simple and yet profound.

And it's difficult, it's
a very difficult art form.

Some people have it
intrinsically, some people have

to work very hard,
but Bill seemed

to understand intrinsically,
instinctively how to do that.

>> Bill Withers can work a
whole lot and make a whole lot

of money if he wanted
to do that,

but I don't think he's
comfortable doing that.

'Cause I've called him time--

people call me all the
time, "Can I get Bill?"

I say, "Hey man, don't
call me, you know,

'cause I don't think
he's going to do it."

>>
We are so remiss

in overvaluing entertainers,
of which I am one, no problem.

And athletes, and
undervaluing the people among us

who have less obvious gifts.

>> Let me ask you this
question about your own legacy,

both personally, as a human
being, and as a great artist,

that you are, what would
you want your legacy to be?

>> I'm in New
York because I have the pleasure

of being honored by the
Our Time Theatre Group,

and that's for kids who stutter.

And it's a great thing,
it's very close to my heart.

Having navigated
through my youth and well

into my adulthood dealing
with that issue, it's fun to,

you know, see this thing grow.

>> I grew up in a place called
Slab Fork, West Virginia,

I'm sure you've been
there on many vacations.

Swam in our creek.

No disrespect to Slab Fork,
it's a coal-mining camp.

And stuttering is rough
for kids, but stuttering

in Slab Fork, West Virginia--

let's just say you don't go to
Slab Fork on the scholarship.

When you're a kid, you want
to be cool and you want

to be cool with the cool people.

And that doesn't always
happen, so if you can learn

to value the people
who value you.

And I was very moved when
I saw these kids talking

about how much they
meant to each other.

I am honored to be
honored, and let's hope

that each kid finds his
own personal comfort zone,

where he can grow and
nurture whatever gifts

that he might have because
if you take away the people

who stutter from the world,

you're left with a
whole bunch of chatty.

Fill in your own word.

>> The kids
are so excited to meet you,

I've been playing your
music, and they cannot wait

to meet you and talk with you.

>> Yeah.

>> So, you are a role
model for me, and for them.

>> Oh, thank you, bud, yeah.

Let's go see them.

>> Here, right here.

>> All right.

>> Come on in.

>> Okay.

>> Ladies and gentlemen, may
I introduce Mr. Bill Withers.

>> Cool.

>> You guys having a-- Our
Time kids, feel free to come up

and introduce yourself.

>> Yeah.

>> Hi, my name is Victoria.

>> Hi, sweetie.

>> Tanya.

>> Hi, sweetie.

>> Nice to meet you.

>> I'm all right, how
you feeling, buddy?

>> I'm good.

>> My man.

What's your name?

>> Joe.

>> All right, Joe.

You know
what I noticed

when we were meeting is it's
almost like fingerprints.

We each have our own
style of stutterings,

which makes us unique.

I really identified with
people who stop at their name.

Last night this friend of mine,

who's a fairly well-known
painter, had this thing,

so there were a lot of athletes
and people that I had seen

in my life, so I
wanted to say hello

to everybody and
introduce myself.

And I went over to this one
guy, and man, I got stuck.

And it brought back memories,
because there was a woman

with him and she
started to laugh.

It was fear.

Fear of the perception
of the listener.

This fear that makes us
apprehensive right at the point

of trying to speak,
that stops us.

Well, one of the ways
to deal with the fear is

to approach people with
a prepared forgiveness.

We have to be more
civil than most people

that we will encounter.

Having had people not understand
me a lot maybe helped me wait a

little beat to where
I can extend something

that hasn't been given to me.

And I think that makes
you a much bigger person.

>> We are thrilled to have
you here, and everything

that you said just means so much
to me personally, and we'd love

to sing for you today.

>> I would have been insulted

if you would have not
done something for me.

>> Sometimes I feel

like everyone's always
ignoring me.

Sometimes I feel like
everyone's always ridiculing me.

All I want in this
whole world is

to be myself, and nobody else.

All I want in this whole world
is love, is love, is love.

All I want in this
world is love.

All I want in this
world is love.

All I want in this
world is love.

>> Yeah.

>> I understood what
you meant, you know.

There's an old Southern
saying that says, you know,

it don't sound right
if it ain't said right.

You know. So you guys are
saying, your feeling's right,

so keep, you know,
just keep doing that.

And it's really a big favor
to me, you know, for you guys

to remind me of some things
that maybe I had forgotten,

and maybe some-- to show me
some things that I didn't know.

So, you guys are cool.

And next time I see you I
probably won't be this nice.

We have to make
allowances for each other.

Thoreau I think said the mass

of men lead lives of
quiet desperation.

I would like to know
how it feels

for my desperation
to get louder.

Yes,
Raul Midon, please.

>> Hello.

>> Hello, Raul.

>> Yes.

>> It's Bill Withers.

How you doing, bud?

>> Oh, good.

>> I was hoping that at some
point or another, you know,

that you would maybe
have just a little time

so we could just mess
around, you know?

Just you and me, you know,
we could plonk around,

I'll even break out my
old Linn drum machine

to make some noise,
you know what I mean?

>> I don't know what to say.

I'm just so happy that you're
interested and man, you know,

I'd love to put our
heads together.

>> I'd like to try
something out on you, Raul.

>> Okay.

>> Because I've always wanted
to write something in Spanish.

I had a friend, a Cuban
friend, and we worked together

and we laughed all the
time, and it was just great.

And I really miss him, you know?

>> Yeah.

>> What I was thinking,
to start off,

"Mi amigo Cubano,
hola, como esta?

Que paso, mi hermano," and I
don't know whether you would say

"tu" or "usted" there,
but one or the other.

I'll just say "tu y
yo no mas hablar."

>> Yeah, "tu", definitely,
because you're good friends.

>> Now your background
is what, Raul?

>> My background is my
mother was African-American

and my father is Argentinian.

When I lived in Miami, I
got very deeply involved

in Cuban music, the
music called guaguanco.

>> Oh.

>> In guaguanco,
everything goes together

so there's the clave, right?

>> Okay.

>> And then it goes boom boom
boom boom, boom boom boom boom,

boom boom boom boom, you know?

As you're doing all
that, you sing,

and you keep all that going.

Ae, ae, ae la chambelona,
ae, ae, ae la chambelona.

You know what I'm saying?'

>> Yeah, Raul.

Yeah,
man, we're going to use all

that stuff you know, Raul.

That's about all the preview
I would like to do on that.

Let's just walk in with
a blank sheet of paper

and see what we can mark on it.

>> Sounds good to me.

>> Yeah.

>> Sometimes a song
is funky cos you feel that way.

A song might be easy and
melancholy on another day.

Sometimes a song gets mean and
evil cos it ain't going right.

Sometimes a song just might
get nervous cos you might

be uptight.

>> I don't even know what
chords he has for it, you know,

so it's all going to be kind
of a question of openness.

I'm going to bring what I have
to the table and hopefully,

you know, come up
with something.

I mean, I just felt
very honored.

>> Dad?

>> Sometimes a song is
tender, sometimes a song is sad.

>>
Oh, this is Raul.

Hey, bud.

>> Maybe that evening

that you wrote the song that's
all the feeling you had.

>> How you doing, Raul?

Let's walk in here
to the studio.

>> Sometimes a
song just feels real good

and lays right there
in the groove.

>> Feels like a studio.

>> Yeah?

>> I'm going to be
largely dependent on you

because I have no skills, Raul.

See, you're the--

>> Well, I am-- yeah.

>> You are the virtuoso.

No, I'm serious.

I got this stuff in here, I
can't play any of this stuff.

>> I learned, you know what,
instead of putting myself

in a situation where my
blindness makes me inferior,

I'm going to create a situation

where I can put my
strengths out there.

I think that when you're
disabled in any way

or when you have
some, I think you have

to figure out how you learn.

>> But you know what, Raul,
you use the word disabled.

>> Right.

>> You are enabled
in other areas

that the average
person doesn't have.

I was a stutterer
until I was 28.

I used to avoid the phone
and, you know, just anywhere

where you had to talk.

And people would get up
in your face and say,

"Spit it out, spit it out!"

as if you had a choice in the
matter, you know what I mean?

>> Yeah.

>> As if you got in that
line and said, "Well,

I think I'm going to
get in," you know,

when you're getting ready
to be born, you know, like,

"I think I'll get in
the stuttering line."

And the
thing is, what do you do

after you find out you're here?

So then, you know,
there was a phrase

that I kept batting
around, "In my mind's eye,

I can see the world from here."

>> Right. Wow.

>> How's that?

>> I love it.

>> You want to play
with that later?

>> Yes.

>> Why don't you write that
down so you don't forget it?

>> I'm writing it down.

I love
it, and it could be something

about being clear
with the mind--

>> Yeah, okay, write down clear.

I can see the world from here.

>> Yeah. So because it's--

>> And sometimes I--

>> Because clarity, in the
mind's eye, is absolute.

It can be absolute.

>> Okay. Okay now let's
begin another line.

>> I can hear the dream,
my dream, so clear.

>> Yeah.

>> Just an idea, just an idea.

Okay.

>> That's good, Raul.

That's good.

In my mind's eye, I can
see the world from here.

>> And sometimes I can
hear my dreams so clear.

>> Get
down, Raul, come on, brother.

Throw something in the pot.

There you go.

>> Because people always
ask me about dreams.

"How do you dream
if you can't see?"

Well, I hear in my
dreams, don't you?

>> Yeah.

>> You know what I mean?

It's not about seeing, it's
about being in your dream.

>> I don't
know what would motivate someone

at the point in their
life that he's in,

with the break that he's taken.

But I do know that he
has no problem throwing

down when he feels
like throwing down.

When he wants to do something,
I mean, he's just obsessed,

he's all in, up at 2 o'clock
in the morning, not eating,

not sleeping, and
that's exhausting.

>> Mi amigo Cubano.

>> Yeah.

No, I'm looking for
the count-in.

>> Hola, como esta?

Mi amigo Cubano.

Que paso, mi hermano?

Mi amigo Cubano.

>> There you go, Raul, that's
what I'm talking about, see.

>> That was pretty
cool, actually.

>> You know, you know, it
all gets back to that thing.

If you start sweet, then
you got somewhere to go.

Let me go to 41 here and
see what's happening, Raul.

Bear with me here,
one more time, okay?

Listen to this and then I'll
make my next edit, okay?

>>
Hola, como esta?

>> I think Bill is
always thinking of songs.

He has songs that he's created
over the last, you know, 10,

15 years that are on tape.

He put a lot into
building that studio.

I think in his imagination,
he felt,

I'm going to do some music.

Whether or not he was going
to actually, you know,

put it out there,
that's another story.

>> Background
Amigo Cubano.

>> Right.

>> Ba-do
be-da-go-do-go-dee.

>> Selfishly, it would
be fantastic, fantastic,

if he would put a-- you
know, get a record together

and it'd be new music and
all that kind of stuff.

And it'd be fun,
but realistically,

I'm not sure that he wants that.

He just hasn't, you
know, wanted to get back

into the music business.

>> Que
paso, mi hermano.

>> I'm going
to go to the Carnival here.

>> Mi amigo Cubano.

>> There it is, there.

>> Yeah, there it is.

Right, there it is.

>> Mi amigo Cubano.

It's got that hump.

>> Que
paso, mi hermano?

>> I
might just go in this frenzy,

you know, just become
obsessed with it every day.

All you hear is just
noise and me.

You know what I mean?

I would like that.

Let's figure it out.

Waay-oh.

There's just so much
about you that I like.

And it's been so good to know
how you've always been there

for me when I needed a friend.

And oh, by the way any time,
any time, any time of the night

or day I will be just
a telephone call away.

Come on, Kori, sing that bridge.

>> Say if you need me.

I'll always be just a
telephone call a-wa-a-ay.

>> Go ahead, sing it.

>> And oh, by the way
I just want to say any time,

any ti-ime, any time
of the night or day.

I will be ju-u-u-ust
a telephone call away.

>> Yeah.

>> Yeah. Let's get out of here.

>> That sounded really
nice .

>> But Kori, girl, we
can work that tune.

>> We can.

>> We can do that song.

>> Yeah. As far as music goes,

I think my dad is a pretty
honest critic, and I really had

to toughen up and realize
that there's a difference

between someone criticizing you

in a way that's saying
you're untalented

and someone being a coach, you
know, someone saying, "Yeah,

that wasn't a strike."

>> You ain't no joke, sugar.

>> No.

>> You ain't no joke.

>> That was so great
to sing in that room.

The acoustic is there.

>> Yeah. You getting a
little grease on you,

that's what I'm talking
about, you understand?

You know, getting a little
grease on you, that's, you know,

you bringing the, you
bringing the stuff, Kori.

Let's hit this sucker here.

Yeah.

>> I knew there are ways
that my father is gifted,

and that I'm different than
that, and that I'm going to have

to find my own process
in sort of my own way,

and for me I just knew that
I wanted to get better.

>> You just be comfortable
and we'll make all this work.

>> Okay. That's a .

Okay.

>> Yeah.

>> I'm going to lift
this just slightly.

>> Do what you want to with it.

You want it closer,
further away?

>> No, that's good.

This is a-- this is
called Blue Blues.

>> I've moved on from
you, so I say, so it seemed.

You are gone far away, I
let you go, I set you free.

Still I swim in a sea of you.

My blue.

>> My
biggest fear, worst nightmare,

was that I would be a
disappointment to him,

that I would show him what I had
and he would be disappointed,

because I knew he always was
really eager to work with me,

and I was always
just like, "Why?

You're Bill Withers.

Why would you ever
want to do that?

Like, why would you
ever want to do that?"

And I just could never see how
he and I could sit in a room

as equals and do
anything together.

>> I give
up, I give in,

I can't hide away this love
I'm in will never have me,

will only leave me deep in the
sea of my blue, blue blues.

>> Oh, that's great.

>> Oh, I'm sorry.

>> I'm just, you know,
I'm just glad to see you.

You know what I mean.

Let's hear that.

Let's hear that.

>> We're all
accidents at birth, you know?

We don't get to choose, you
know, what we look like,

we don't get to choose how
gifted we're going to be,

how tall, how strong, we
don't get to choose anything

about what we're going to be.

One day, somebody
says, "You are."

At some point or
another, we have a choice

if we're sane enough
by that point,

as to how much we're
going to apply ourselves,

and a lot of that is influenced
by the people who nurture us.

I
already did what I did.

You know, I'm not that little
boy or that young guy anymore

that hasn't had any validation.

>> Grandma's
hand clapped

in church on Sunday morning.

Grandma's hand played
a tambourine so well.

Grandma's hand issued out a
warning, Billy, don't you run

so fast, might fall
on a piece of glass,

might be snakes there
in that grass.

Grandma's hand--

And you know

that Grandma's hands
soothed a local unwed mother.

Grandma's hand it aches
some times and swells.

Grandma's hands lift her
face and tell her, Baby,

Grandma understand
that you really love

that man even though
he ain't no good.

Grandma's hand.

Come on, play it, man.

>> A man we passed
just tried to stare me down

and when I looked at you,
you looked at the ground.

I don't know who he is
but I think that you do.

Dadgummit, who is he
and what is he to you?

Ah, something in my heart

and in your eye tells me he's
not someone just passing by.

Ah, and when you cleared your
throat, was that your cue?

Dadgummit, who is he
and what is he to you?

And now, when I add the sum
of you and me, I get confused

and I keep coming up with three.

You're too much for one
man but not enough for two.

Dadgummit, who is he
and what is he to you?

Well, you tell me men don't
have much intuition is

that what you're really thinking
girl or are you wishing?

Before you wreck your old home,
please search another new.

Dadgummit, who is he
and what is he to you?

Dadgummit, who is he
and what is he to you?

Dadgummit, who is he
and what is he to you?

Dadgummit--