Luther Vandross passed away on Friday.  I repeat, Luther Vandross is dead.  

I had just gotten home when I got a call from Myrna, who is as close to Luther as I am, and she said she'd heard a horrible rumor.  Immediately I said "Not Luther!" and she said, "Yes, Luther."  

We stayed on the line with each other not knowing what to do, especially since we didn't want to circulate -- much less believe -- some news that was not true.  

I got a few other messages from people who thought they'd heard something, and then, very soon after, someone called to verify that it was on the radio in New Jersey that Luther Vandross had just passed away, so we knew it was true.  

Luther Vandross is as much a brother to me as my own biological brother.  I've known him since about 1973.  It's impossible to express how close we were and how devastated I am by this loss.

We had done zillions of recording sessions together.  He's sung on my records, and I've sung background on so many of his.  We loved the same kind of singers:  the Shirelles, the Sweet Inspirations, Cissy, Joshie A., Whitney, the Blossoms, Dionne, Aretha, the Supremes, Dusty Springfield, Chaka, Patti, Cheryl L., Dee Dee, Judy C., Erma, Carolyn, Madeline B., Doris T., Maeretha, Martha W., and so many others.  

Luther was absolutely THE best vocal arranger ever.  He didn't write things out, he did them on the spot, just out of his head and his heart.  He was as comfortable with three singers as he was with 13 singers.  He loved singing for artists like Aretha, Dionne and Roberta, but he was just as comfortable singing for Cat Stevens or David Bowie or Todd Rundgren or Chic or Sister Sledge or Roxy Music or Donna Summer and Barbra Streisand.  Luther could walk out the door of a recording studio after singing for an Army Reserve commercial and go to a studio and sing for Pavarotti -- or Loretta Lynn for that matter.

I met Luther at a birthday party for Andre DeShields.  (I met Allee Willis that same night and Fonzi Thornton too, I believe.)  Luther and I began to talk to each other, and we discussed how he had a group called Luther and at that time I had my group Rosie.  I remember taking him Rosie's first album with "Roll Me Through the Rushes" on it (Better Late Than Never) to get his opinion of the final mix.  Later, even though we had known each other a couple of years by then, we did our very first session together.  Arif Mardin hired Luther, Dianne Sumler and me to sing two songs for the singer/songwriter Andy Pratt.

Luther and I went on to sing together for Garland Jeffries, Streisand and Summer, Chic, Sister Sledge, Roxy Music, Bionic Boogie, David Spinozza, even Naomi Campbell.  

We wrote our first song together in 1979, "Too Much Commotion, Not Enough Emotion," and then we wrote "'Scuse Me While I Fall in Love," which was a big R&B hit for Donna Washington.  When he contracted, his session reports were so neat and meticulous (and mine were so messy)!  We didn't care as long as we got paid? but by the same token, we couldn?t wait to run to the record store to hear the final product when it came out.  It was never just about the money.

Anyway, soon after, Luther had huge solo success with Never Too Much, and you pretty much know the story from there forward.

What you might not know, though, is how sweet and caring and loyal and brilliant Luther was.  He studied engineering at Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo before I knew him.  He was a great comedian -- so funny onstage and off.  He was a fabulous uncle, a great son to his mom and a great little brother to his siblings.  He was an amazing friend who cared not just for me but also my family.  He could name all my nieces and nephews and all of their children too, probably in order of age.  He took my young nephew Stevie to wrestling at Madison Square Garden (Stevie's favorite thing in the world) because I needed a baby-sitter for him so I could do a session.

I wish I could tell you all the incredible memories I have of him, but please forgive me because, to tell you the truth, my head is like a blur, sort of like white noise.  There are hundreds of record dates that we did together, and I can't name 10 right now.  I've definitely cried a lot of tears since Friday, too many, but ironically the thing that makes me feel better is the thing I thought I wouldn't be able to do yet, which is put on his CDs and play them.  The first song I played when I knew he was gone is "Little Miracles (Happen Every Day)."

In early July 2003, when I was in New York on tour with James Taylor, the Lord really blessed me -- and thank you FT -- because Phillip Ballou and I went to visit Luther.  I got to be with him for eight or nine hours, a whole Sunday.  We played oldies and his new album (Dance With My Father) and laughed and talked and just enjoyed each other's company so much.  

After I left the tour in August, I drove to the mid-west and on the way came up with a plan to do an album of Luther's tunes as a sort of tribute to him, my own little gift to him.  My niece Debbie was helping me through the pre-production phase, and we had chosen 18 original or favorite songs of his by others which I intended to record.  So in September, back in Los Angeles, I went straight into the studio and recorded "Any Love," "So Amazing," "Little Miracles" and a great song by Dionne and The Spinners, the B side of "Then Came You" called "Just As Long As We Have Love."  The sessions went great (Bobby Watson on bass, Doug Yowell on drums, etc.).  

After doing the four songs, I realized that I'd bitten off a little more than I could chew, and I do intend to finish this project one day, especially now even more, but it will take me some time to do that.  I'd always known how incredible Luther's songs were -- so intricate and difficult, so much so that I stopped the project, and for two years I've been revisiting it.  I know that "Any Love" works, and one day I'll release my version and maybe more.

Even though I had sung background on Luther's songs over the years, what I realized even more when I was recording his songs is that of course this man was so brilliant, and these songs were so complex and soulful and melodic and unique in a way that was only Luther.  Luther was LUTHER.  There was no other Luther and there never will be another Luther.  I think that his records should be mandatory listening in libraries and schools, I really do.  

He sang from a place so deep that sometimes I'm not sure he even knew where it came from.  But I do know that each time he had a good rough or had mastered his new CD, the Lord would bless me once again and Luther would pull into my driveway, honk the horn of his Mercedes and say, "David, come listen to this."  I had a front row seat and a chauffeur and was privy to something most of the world had not even heard yet.  Sometimes I'd be singing on these recordings and sometimes not.  That didn't really matter.  What mattered was that we spoke the same language, a kind of shorthand.  If Luther said simply Shirley (from the Shirelles) or Myrna or Cissy (from the Sweets) or Darlene or Fanita (from the Blossoms), or Estelle or Sylvia, I knew exactly what sound he was going for, and by the same token when he said Googie or Paulette or Brenda or Phillip or Valerie P. or Fonzi or Michelle or B.J. or Daryl or Dennis or Ada D. or Fred W. or Gene V.B. or Ava C. or Ula or Lisa or Kevin or Alfa or Tawatha or Robin, I just knew what he was talking about.  (As a side note, it's been just three months since Phillip Ballou passed, and I'm still trying to process that!)

I remember one Saturday morning in California with my mother, Luther and me at breakfast at the Beverly Hills Café.  I have never actually seen mama laugh that hard in her entire life.  Sometimes I think Luther was Jackie Gleason.  I know he loved that show (and I know he loved The Jeffersons).  And I know most of all he loved singing to the world and performing for the world, and music was his greatest joy and his greatest gift to us all.  I will miss this man forever and ever.  

My deepest sympathies go out to Luther's mother and all of his relatives and his extended family and his musicians and singers and bandmates, and to Ray and Paul and Nat and Marcus and Skip and Brenda and Kevin and Valerie P. and Debi McDuffie and Marsha Burns and everyone, because I know how huge it is for them all.

Even though on certain days I miss touring with James Taylor, I thank God once again that I'm not actually on tour this year because with Luther's passing, I would not be able to carry on.  I'd have to come home.  That's the kind of sadness I feel, and thank God that's where I am -- home, safe, and sad, but truthfully knowing that Luther is finally, at last, at peace.  Somewhere on "The Other Side Of The World."