Legends of Songwriting: Bill Withers

A BLACK MAN wearing faded jeans and an orange turtleneck sweater sits on a stool. He's hunched over his acoustic guitar. Eyes closed, sweat glistening on his brow, he begins to pluck out a progression of soft minor seventh chords. The groove established, he sings, "Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, it's not warm when she's away..."