I discovered yet another talented musician who had Leon’s magic umami sprinkled onto his songs.
This time it’s Dave Mason, founding member of the rock band, Traffic, who recently passed away on April 19.
As he was forming his own public persona as a solo artist, Leon Russell continued to collaborate with other musicians.
As I re-listen to these Dave Mason songs, I can now detect Leon’s contributions; always distinctive, always the secret ingredient, the umami that enhanced the flavor of every melody and arrangement.
In my opinion, he was meant to be on center stage, never in the background and anonymous.
Special thanks to Leon Russell Superstar in a Masquerade. His YouTube channel is an encyclopedia about the Master of Space and Time. Featured photo curated from Pinterest.
I’m not sure I really liked this song when it first came out; perhaps it was a bit too “country” for this little hippie rocker chick, along with “Rhinestone Cowboy”, but the lyrics and melody stood the test of time, and then there’s LEON, or as he was known back then, Claude Russell Bridges.
I had no idea he was the pianist on this recording; another magical moment from the Master of Space and Time, the secret ingredient.
Here’s another version from 1983. They made a great team, part of the famous Wrecking Crew of first call studio musicians in Los Angeles during the 1960’s. I could watch his fingers on the piano all day every day.
Claude Russell Bridges (Leon Russell) would be eighty-four years old today and sadly, while he’s no longer here, it’s a good time to remember him through his musical genius. He was a gifted pianist, songwriter, arranger, bandleader, and producer–a visionary.
His beauty shines through, no matter his age.
This is a brief compilation of some of his water themed recordings:
Back To The Island (Leon Russell’s creation, NOT Jimmy Buffet)
There’s still too much ugliness in this world, so I’m going to keep my rosebud colored glasses on a bit longer…
When I realize how many songs Leon Russell contributed his magic to, how he was the secret ingredient in hundreds of popular tunes, I am continually in awe and amazed.
My mom and I used to listen and sing along to all of Gary Lewis & The Playboys songs. We loved the perfect piano playing and we never knew it was Leon. We didn’t have a CLUE but what we did sense was that whoever played the piano was special and magical. It wouldn’t be the same WITHOUT Leon’s contributions– as arranger AND pianist.
Gary Lewis once said that eighty percent of his success was due to Leon, but I believe it’s closer to one hundred percent. If you take away the piano, you’re left with nothing special.
Leon morphed from this uber quiet, short-haired clean-cut session keyboardist to the coolest longhaired sunglass-wearing sexy visionary like a butterfly bursting out of a cocoon. The magic was always inside of him.
I didn’t write the following, but it’s worth sharing. (I did however, edit it a bit.)
If you listened to pop music in the 1960s, you heard Leon Russell play. You just didn’t know it.
That piano on the Ronettes’ “Be My Baby”? Leon Russell. The Byrds’ early records? Leon Russell. Beach Boys sessions? Leon Russell. Phil Spector’s legendary “Wall of Sound” productions? Leon Russell was there, in a suit and tie, hair neatly trimmed, playing whatever was needed, and here with the Monkees.
For nearly a decade, Leon was one of the most sought-after session musicians in Los Angeles. Producers loved him because he could play anything—rock, jazz, country, blues, gospel. You could hum a melody and he’d give you the perfect piano part. You could describe a feeling and he’d translate it into music.
Producer Snuff Garrett said, “I could talk style with him and he’d do it. I’d name a record and go, ‘I like the piano on this…’ and he’d go, ‘Okay,’ and play it.”
Leon Russell was on hundreds of hit records. He was the secret ingredient in countless songs you’ve heard a thousand times.
And for years, almost no one knew his name.
Leon was born Claude Russell Bridges in 1942 in Lawton, Oklahoma with a birth injury (cerebral palsy on the right side) and began playing classical piano at age four. By fourteen, he was sneaking into Tulsa nightclubs with a fake ID, playing backup for Jerry Lee Lewis.
The fake ID belonged to a friend. The name on it was “Leon.” He kept it.
At seventeen, Leon moved to Los Angeles to chase his dream of making it in music. He studied guitar with James Burton, one of the best session players in the business. He worked constantly—sessions during the day, clubs at night, whatever paid.
And he was good. So good that by his early twenties, Leon Russell was playing on some of the biggest records of the decade.
He backed the Ronettes, the Crystals, Darlene Love. He played on Phil Spector’s famous Christmas album in 1963. He worked with the Byrds, Gary Lewis & the Playboys, Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass, the Beach Boys, the Ventures, Jan and Dean.
Herb Alpert later recalled that Leon would sit at the piano and say, “I don’t know what to play.” Then he’d “chime in with something special and affect the groove in a very Leon Russell way that was always unique.”
For years, Leon was brilliant, versatile, and completely invisible. A studio ghost. The guy in the suit playing piano while someone else got famous.
Then in the late 1960s, something changed.
Leon grew his hair long. He stopped wearing suits. He gathered a commune of musicians around him in the Hollywood Hills.
He stopped being the anonymous session player and started becoming Leon Russell—the artist–The Master of Space and Time.
In 1970, everything exploded at once.
Leon released his first solo album, simply titled Leon Russell. The musicians backing him? Eric Clapton. Ringo Starr. George Harrison. Not exactly unknown names.
That same year, he organized Joe Cocker’s legendary Mad Dogs & Englishmen tour—a massive, chaotic traveling circus of forty-plus musicians, complete with a full horn section, backup singers, and absolute mayhem. It was revolutionary. The tour became the stuff of legend, and Leon was the mastermind behind it all.
He wrote “Delta Lady” for Joe Cocker. It became a hit.
Then in 1971, Leon performed at George Harrison’s Concert for Bangladesh—one of the first major benefit concerts in rock history. He shared the stage with Harrison, Bob Dylan, Eric Clapton, and Ringo Starr. His medley of “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” and “Young Blood” was one of the standout performances of the night. He was ON FIRE.
Suddenly, Leon Russell wasn’t just a session player anymore. He was a star.
By 1973, Billboard named him the “Top Concert Attraction in the World.”
Read that again. The guy who had spent a decade playing anonymous piano parts was now filling stadiums on solo tours. His album Carney reached #2 on the charts. He was crossing genres effortlessly—rock, blues, country, gospel, bluegrass—and audiences couldn’t get enough.
He wrote songs that became standards. “A Song for You”—a tender, achingly beautiful ballad—has been recorded by more than 200 artists, including Ray Charles, Donny Hathaway, Whitney Houston, and Amy Winehouse. In 2018, it was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame.
Another of his songs, “This Masquerade,” was covered by more than 75 artists. George Benson’s version won a Grammy.
Leon founded Shelter Records in 1969, creating wild, creative environments where musicians could live and work together. He established studios in Hollywood and Tulsa, fostering creativity without boundaries.
He produced and played on sessions for Barbra Streisand, Bob Dylan, Frank Sinatra, Ike & Tina Turner, the Rolling Stones. He toured with the Stones. He collaborated with Willie Nelson. He wrote and recorded hits like “Tight Rope” and “Lady Blue.”
For a brief, brilliant period in the early 1970s, Leon Russell was one of the biggest names in music.
By the 2000s, Leon was playing smaller venues. The stadiums were gone. A new generation of music fans had never even heard of him. He kept touring—because that’s what he did, that’s who he was—but he was a legend from another era that the world had moved past.
He was still brilliant. He was still performing. But the spotlight had moved on.
In 2009, Elton John decided to do something about it.
Elton had idolized Leon since the beginning of his own career. When Elton was starting out in the early 1970s, Leon was already a star. Leon’s influence shaped Elton’s sound, his flamboyant showmanship, his entire approach to piano-driven rock.
Elton had always called Leon a mentor and an inspiration. So when he saw that Leon had been nearly forgotten, he reached out and asked him to record an album together.
The result was The Union, released in 2010. It was a collaboration between two piano-playing legends—one at the height of his fame, one who’d been overlooked for decades.
The album was critically acclaimed and Grammy-nominated. Cameron Crowe made a documentary about the creative process. And suddenly, people were talking about Leon Russell again.
Elton championed him publicly. He spoke about Leon’s genius, his influence, his importance to rock history. And in 2011, Elton inducted Leon into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
That same year, Leon was also inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame.
After decades of being overlooked, Leon Russell was finally getting the recognition he deserved.
But by then, his health was failing. He’d had a heart attack. He had brain surgery, but was looking forward to another tour.
On November 13, 2016, Leon Russell died in his sleep at his home in Nashville. He was 74 years old.
Elton John posted: “My darling Leon Russell passed away last night. He was a mentor, inspiration & so kind to me. I loved him and always will.”
Leon Russell left behind an extraordinary legacy: 33 albums, at least 430 songs (probably more), collaborations with virtually every major artist of his era. He’d been directly involved with hundreds of bestselling records over a 60-year career.
But more than the numbers, Leon Russell represented something rare in music—a musician’s musician. Someone who could play anything, work with anyone, cross any genre. Someone equally at home backing Frank Sinatra in a suit or leading a hippie commune with wild hair and a beard down to his chest.
He proved you could be both the anonymous session player and the stadium-filling star. The guy in the background and the guy in the spotlight.
Leon Russell’s story is a reminder that the most talented people aren’t always the most famous—and that sometimes genius hides in plain sight for years before the world finally sees it.
He played on songs you’ve heard a thousand times without ever knowing his name.
Then he stepped into the light and showed the world what he’d been all along: a master. Curated from NoCapArchives
As someone posted on social media, “Besides beautiful Leon’s awesome talents and accomplishments, the purity of his heart shines through.” His disability didn’t hold him back; he’s an inspiration.
Check out the genius of Leon during the Homewood Sessions…it captured a priceless moment in time:
I’m trying not to react to current events and news reports and instead surround myself with positivity and joy. What shines more light than love?
Leon Russell and New Grass Revival – The Live Album is AMAZING. It was recorded live at Perkins Palace, Pasadena, CA. on May 15, 1980 by Paradise Records and Paradise Video (all Leon productions.)
The beauty of this man.
Performing with New Grass Revival. Photo by Steve Kahn via Pinterest
I’m forever and also at the same time NEVER surprised to discover the depths of Leon’s talents.
Eric Clapton popularized J.J. Cale’s songs, After Midnight and Cocaine. I happen to like J.J.’s versions better, but it’s fascinating to learn that so many great musicians collaborated.
From YouTube channel, Leon Russell Superstar in a Masquerade: Leon Russell’s first solo album in 1970 was long-overdue. He’d been making records as far back as 1957 in Oklahoma with schoolmate David Gates. He moved to Hollywood, where he spread his chops over more records by other artists than believable, and made more singles of his own, but none reached the public’s attention as he’d hoped.
His meeting up with Joe Cocker and Denny Cordell and putting together Joe’s band for the Mad Dogs & Englishmen tour in spring 1970 was timed beautifully with the release of his own solo album on his and Denny’s Shelter label, THAT began his launch into stardom!
From tapes that rolled in September and October 1969, here is a jam with Leon and Eric Clapton, simply titled “Jammin With Eric.” It appeared on the 1995 DCC 24 Karat Gold edition of Leon Russell, and again on the 2002 Hi-Res DVD Audio release of that album.
UPDATE 2026: Here’s yet another missed opportunity to meet the MOSAT. This is an update to a post I wrote in 2020. I was purging old posts, read this one, and have no idea how I missed the connection between Tom Petty’s guitarist and Leon Russell, but I did, and now that I know, I’m going to contact him and hopehopehope he’ll be amenable to sharing stories about Leon and not be too annoyed with my LR obsession.
Ron Blair, the original bassist for Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, has a direct connection to Leon Russell through the band’s early career and record label, Shelter Records.
Leon Russell’s Shelter Records was the platform that signed and released the early music of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, featuring Ron on bass.
In the mid-1970s, Tom Petty signed with Shelter Records, a label co-owned by Leon Russell and Denny Cordell.
Ron Blair joined the Heartbreakers in 1976 after Mudcrutch (Petty’s previous band) disbanded. During this period, the band was under the Shelter Records umbrella, which Russell founded.
Before forming the Heartbreakers, members of the group, including those who worked with Blair, were part of the Los Angeles music scene where Leon Russell was a prominent figure. Ron Blair was the bassist for the band from 1976 to 1981, during which time the band established its sound, often described as a mix of rock, country, and blues.
Original post…
I just saw an old video of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers and it reminded me of something from my past.
When my son was around eight or ten years old (early 1990s), I’d bring him along with me to the gym and he’d go (reluctantly) to the babysitting room for an hour or so. It was mostly other doubledigiters so he didn’t have a real problem with it, and eventually became friendly with a boy about the same age.
Their friendship progressed beyond the gym to birthdays and sleepovers. For a while, these two boys were inseparable.
One day, out of the blue, and I’m a bit fuzzy on the details, the boy’s dad asked if I could give him a ride to LAX. It’s a ninety minute drive and I’m not sure why I said yes ‘cos I seriously HATE to drive, especially if it involves LA traffic, but I loaded the boys and the dad (along with his guitar) in my car.
I can’t pinpoint the exact moment when I learned that his dad was actually superstar guitarist Ron Blair of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, but when I did, I was suitably impressed and starstruck. All I do remember is that he was always quiet but courteous and appreciated the airport ride. However, he looked EVERY bit a rock and roll superstar.
A couple weeks pre-Covid, a friend invited me to a fundraiser for the local food bank. It was an outdoor venue with a lot of musical guests. The headliner’s name was a familiar one. Lo and behold, it was Ron Blair, who now lives in my little town.
We chatted a bit; I can’t honestly say that he remembered me, but he did remember my son which was cool.
Still quiet, humble, friendly, and amazingly talented.
We’ve all aged and I’m obviously way too old to be a groupie (sigh), but I do remember THOSE good old days, haha.
OMG just listen to Leon’s piano magic…it’s spellbinding.
Leon Russell’s relationship with Delaney Bramlett had been quite productive. They’d worked together on demos for Metric music in the early 60s and recorded solo material for Delaney in 1964 with Jackie De Shannon and Billy Strange.
After his stint as a Shindog on Shindig!, Delaney met Bonnie which led to one of music’s legendary duos, Delaney & Bonnie. After some recording sessions in Hollywood for release on the Independence label, the duo got involved with Don Nix in Memphis, who’d been working with Leon Russell in the studio for Gary Lewis & The Playboys. Don got them on the soulful Stax label and their album Delany & Bonnie Home was made.
Credit to Leon Russell Superstar in a Masquerade — Photo from Pinterest
Written by Paul Simon and originally performed by Simon and Garfunkel, this live version of Homeward Bound by Leon Russell (and Gary Ogan) is a TREASURE I had never heard before yesterday.
Photo credit Gary Ogan
Gary Ogan is a forty-seven year veteran in the music business and an Oregon Music Hall of Fame inductee. He moved to Los Angeles in 1977 to sign with Leon Russell’s Paradise Records.
From Gary Ogan: “As the winter of 1977 approached, I was booked as a solo opener for Phoebe Snow on a short run through the Pacific Northwest, five dates altogether, including Thanksgiving night in Portland at the Civic Auditorium. Once the mini-tour was confirmed, Leon mentioned that he and Mary wanted to fly up for my Portland show. He asked if I wanted him to sit in with me. Then he shared the idea he had hatched. He and Mary would watch my set from the wings, then he would step out unannounced after my last song for a duet of “Homeward Bound.” He would sing lead, I would sing backup, we would do the song in the key of C, I would capo my guitar at the 8th fret and play the song in the G position. Once again, I loved how much thought he had put into such a generous gesture. It came off great too. The place went nuts when he walked out, and the ovation would not stop after we left. Here’s a shot of that performance.”
This is a long lost soundboard audio of an unreleased performance with Gary Ogan, featuring the Master of Space and Time, Leon Russell.
Leon’s musical genius never fails to bring joy. His interpretation is AMAZING, as is the perfection of his voice for these lyrics. It’s rare to hear him sing without sitting at his piano.
The “Queen of the Tulsa Sound” is Ann Bell, a pioneering vocalist and performer instrumental in defining the unique musical style known as the Tulsa Sound alongside legends like Leon Russell, the one and only Master of Space and Time, and J.J. Cale.
Inducted into the Oklahoma Music Hall of Fame, Bell’s distinctive voice and deep involvement with the scene earned her that title for her significant contributions and ongoing legacy.
As a backup singer for the original Joe Cocker and Leon Russell Mad Dogs & Englishmen tour and album, she was an important part of the band and is remembered for her contributions to the “Tulsa sound” that Leon Russell helped create. She has also participated in reunion and tribute events in the years since.
I never get tired of hearing this story. I surely wish there was a recording of Leon that night….
Ann is one of the very talented backup singers here (wearing an awesome outfit), along with the GAP Band. I love this comment: “No matter how cool you think you or your band is, you will NEVER be as cool as Leon Russell and the Gap Band doing this Marvin Gaye classic.”
Sunglasses off, shirt open, those EYES...”Wait now. WAIT!” So much Leon joy…
Recorded for the TV show, Midnight Special with Wolfman Jack, “Ain’t That Peculiar” is a classic Motown song originally by Marvin Gaye, but Leon Russell turned it into something spectacular with his signature energetic performance. Watch the entire show here: https://youtu.be/19z9JSaTm8c?si=n96fSGGrQxQuer2R
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 