Remembering Ike Turner

I know some women who refuse to listen to Ike Turner because of his abusive history with Tina Turner. I understand their feelings. But Turner turned my ears inside out when I first heard “Matchbox” as a kid, and no matter how much empathy I feel for Tina, I’ve never been willing to give up his music.

Turner, who died Wednesday, isn’t the only unpleasant musician I love. Perhaps that makes me a hypocrite, but some songs, some musicians, are as much a part of my psyche as my job, my family and my friends.

Turner howled when he sang “Catfish Blues” and he snarled when he played it. It’s not really nasty, though. Instead, it’s a song performed with passion by one of the most confident musicians I’ve ever heard. I listen to it whenever I need a shot of toughness.

He had a tender side, too. Just listen to his instrumental version of “After Hours” from last year’s “Rising with the Blue,” album and you’ll know what I mean. Turner caressed every note.

I certainly can’t embrace Turner’s dark side, but that’s not his legacy, at least not to me, because only a few folks ever played blues, rock and soul with as much fire.