Over the next few days as news spreads, hundreds of thousands of words will be written about Betty Gray Mabry of Homestead. Most of them will be rapturous and well-deserved assessments of her place in the pantheon of funk, acid soul and popular music too wild and undefinable to be categorized easily.
Like Naomi Simms, the first Black supermodel who years before left Pittsburgh for New York in search of fame and fortune, Betty Gray Mabry, then 16, moved to Manhattan to attend the Fashion Institute of Technology in the early ‘60s.
Before long, the well-regarded fashionista, who was also a pretty good songwriter, became a valued part of a Greenwich Village music scene that celebrated multi-talented exiles from Pittsburgh like her.
She recorded and released “Get Ready for Betty” with “I’m Gonna Get My Baby Back” on the flip side in 1964, then she wrote “Uptown (to Harlem)” for the Chambers Brothers in 1967, so she was no stranger to recording studios when things got wild in the early ‘70s.
Many obits will glibly describe her as the “forgotten godmother of funk” or as a mysterious recluse who either walked away or was chased away from the limelight she richly deserved.
She will also be defined in terms of her brief marriage to Miles Davis, one of the most important musicians of the 20th century. She was his second wife.
As Betty Davis, she was a muse to the trumpeter whose eyes she opened to what was happening musically in the late ‘60s. She was younger than her husband by nearly two decades.
It is Betty Davis’ face, triple exposed and shimmering with cosmic awareness, that adorns the cover of “Filles de Kilimanjaro,” the 1969 precursor to her husband’s controversial fusion jazz period, which she is credited with inspiring.
“Mademoiselle Mabry (Miss Mabry),” the final 16-minute cut on the album is as delicate and beautiful a composition as Miles Davis has ever recorded. It is a fitting tribute to the complexity of the woman who introduced him to the music of Jimi Hendrix, Sly Stone and other musicians who were then outside his comfort zone.
To those who knew her well during her years in Homestead, and stayed in touch with her even as she shook the foundations of the music industry in the early ‘70s, Betty Davis would always be Betty Gray, the girl who grew up in the shadows of the mills.
Betty Gray eventually returned to Homestead to live with her mother. But she also returned for the sake of her own mental and physical health, years after her marriage to Miles Davis ended and her recording career and notoriety as a live performer in the ‘70s inexplicably disappeared down the pop music memory hole.
Over the years, she would also be romantically linked to such influential musicians as Hugh Masekela, Eric Clapton and Robert Palmer. It was her rumored relationship with Hendrix that allegedly prompted Miles Davis to file for divorce in 1969.
She denied that there was ever anything between her and the guitarist except mutual respect, and blamed her troubled marriage on Miles Davis’ well-documented temper. Still, the two remained relatively close until his death.
I never had the pleasure of meeting or interviewing Ms. Davis, but one of my friends, Constance “Connie” Portis is one of her oldest friends. Connie was the first to announce her death on social media on Wednesday. She penned the following on Facebook:
“It is with great sadness that I share the news of the passing of Betty Davis, a multi-talented music influencer, pioneer rock star, singer, songwriter, arranger, model and fashion icon. Most of all, Betty was a friend, aunt, niece, and beloved member of her community of Homestead, Pa., and of the worldwide community of friends and fans.
“I was blessed that Betty and I remained friends for 65 years. After her brief, impactful music career, mental health challenges forced her to return home to live with her mother. During that time, many thought she was in hiding and did not want to be found.
“This is not true. Betty was receiving help to find a balance in her life while continuing to write music and oversee her music business.
“From our early teens to her passing, we remained friends and I cared for her through the many stages of her physical and mental health. In the past few years, primarily with the release of the documentary ‘Betty: They Say I’m Different,’ Betty reconnected with friends from around the world and made new and loving friends who produced the film.
“Her physical health declined rapidly within a two-week period after being diagnosed with cancer. In her last days, she rested in lovely surroundings and passed away in the early morning of February 9, 2022.”
Connie shared wonderful stories with me about her friendship with the woman who used to call her up when they were teenagers and sing songs that would later make it into her repertoire.
A memory of her friend that never fails to make Connie laugh was when the two, by then young adults, were in Betty Gray’s old bedroom at her mother’s house when Ms. Mabry interrupted their reunion to tell her that someone named “Miles” was on the phone and wanted to speak to her.
Ms. Davis went downstairs to take the call. When she returned, Connie said her old friend did a perfect imitation of the jazz trumpeter’s raspy voice, causing them both to burst into laughter.
Betty Davis recorded four albums, two of which are essential to understanding the evolution of soul, R&B and funk: The eponymous “Betty Davis” (1973) and “They Say I’m Different” (1974) are stone cold classics of banshee-wailing, sweat-drenched soul that prompted the NAACP to call for boycotts of her music. Her live performances caused the same kind of moral panic that Prince and Madonna would generate a decade later.
“Nasty Gal” (1975) and “Is It Love or Desire,” recorded in 1976 but released in 2009, add new textures to Betty Davis’ music, but because she didn’t tour to promote them, they didn’t catch on with the public despite being bawdier and more sensual than many hip-hop albums of the period.
Asked if the public would have an opportunity to pay their respects to Ms. Davis, who died at 77, Connie promised that “in accordance with Betty’s wishes” there will be a “homegoing ceremony” that is “Betty Davis approved” soon.
True to form, Betty Gray Mabry Davis always leaves her adoring public wanting more.
Tony Norman: tnorman@post-gazette.com or 412-263-1631. Twitter @Tony_NormanPG.
First Published: February 10, 2022, 8:01 p.m.
