The search for a lost Detroit soul singer whose music still lives on overseas

Jim O’Hara has spent more than a decade chasing a ghost.

A longtime fan of Detroit soul music from the United Kingdom, he’s searching for September Jones, an obscure but remarkable singer who released just two songs in 1966 before eventually disappearing from public view. She performed at many venues throughout the city until 1971.

More than half a century later, Jones’s stirring, mid-tempo, “I’m Coming Home” remains beloved in the U.K., where ’60s soul music is played in underground Northern Soul venues, thanks to her raw, aching, and haunting lyrics.

“I don’t think she has any idea that people in the U.K. are still dancing to her music,” O’Hara tells Metro Times. “I want her to know, ‘You did this, and it wasn’t in vain.’”

Jones released just one 45 record on the Kapp Records label, featuring “I’m Coming Home” and another Northern Soul favorite, “No More Love.” Recorded in Detroit on Oct. 17, 1966, at United Sound Studios, the songs showcased the raw, gospel-inflected sound of so many lesser-known Detroit soul artists of the era. They were produced by Pied Piper, a short-lived, local company owned by Detroit music legends Jack Ashford and Lorraine Chandler.

Jones’s music found a vibrant second life in the U.K., first gaining popularity in the late 1960s and early 1970s within the underground Northern Soul movement. DJs spun her records at clubs like England’s Wigan Casino, which became iconic for hosting all-night dances featuring Black American soul tracks.

In the 1960s, Motown Records dominated Detroit’s music scene and became an international sensation. In its shadows were hundreds of small, independent labels that rarely made it big. Like many artists on these labels, Jones faded into obscurity. But in the U.K., record collectors and soul enthusiasts are keeping the music alive.

London-based Ace Records helped revive interest in Jones in the 2010s by releasing long-lost, unreleased recordings, including “Give Me All of Your Love” and “Voo Doo Mademoiselle.”

“When the unreleased stuff came out in 2013, people began to think, ‘Who and where is this woman?’” O’Hara says. “And like me, some soul fans started looking for her but had no luck. In fact, a fellow soul fan and friend of mine, Andy Rix, has been looking for her for almost 20 years.”

Jones was only 18 when she made her record. Her powerful vocals are supported by the backing of The Funk Brothers, Motown’s legendary house band.

All these years later, Northern Soul fans are searching for the elusive woman behind the beautiful voice. If she’s still alive, she’s nearly 80 years old.

A regular visitor to Detroit, O’Hara has scoured the city in search of clues. He and his friends have documented where Jones performed, traced her collaborators, and spoken with other soul musicians. But the trail always goes cold, mainly because “September Jones” was a stage name given by Ashford and Chandler, O’Hara says. Her real name is a mystery.

What O’Hara knows is that she is a native Detroiter and her father was a minister in the city.

“Everything boils down to one thing: Everybody knew her as September Jones, and that isn’t her real name,” O’Hara says. “This is the stumbling block.”

The only known photo of Jones surfaced in 1991 when a British collector visited Funk Brother Joe Hunter, one of the song’s co-writers. It depicts Jones as a poised young woman, her hair styled in an elegant updo and wearing a coat dress, gazing thoughtfully into the distance.

O’Hara says Jones last appeared publicly in June 1975, performing at a tribute concert for civic leader Ethel Terrell at the Highland Park Holiday Inn. The event, attended by 800 people and covered by the Michigan Chronicle, was significant because Terrell was the first Black woman on Highland Park’s city council. After this night, Jones disappeared from public view entirely, aside from reportedly attending Hunter’s funeral in 2007.

Jordan Wilson, a 28-year-old Northern Soul enthusiast from Wigan, wasn’t alive when Jones performed around Detroit, playing at venues like Swan’s Paradise Lounge, Phelps Lounge, Henson West Casino Royale, and Watt’s Club Mozambique. But the popularity of Northern Soul captivated Wilson and many in his generation.

Wilson finds the mystery of Jones’s disappearance perplexing.

“It’s unbelievable that this woman can’t be found anywhere,” Wilson says. “We’ve exhausted every last avenue.”

But Wilson thinks Jones’s appearance at the Highland Park event may provide clues.

“Given the venue and her involvement in this tribute, I believe there may be a meaningful connection between September Jones and the Highland Park area,” Wilson says.

Obscure Northern Soul records have become prized collectors’ items, sometimes fetching thousands of dollars in the U.K.

“Detroit soul music is very collectible,” O’Hara says. “Many Detroit soul 45s range from as little as $5, through to $10, $50, $500, with a select few rare items selling for several thousand dollars.”

Wilson paid $450 for a copy of Jones’s original record.

Even pop culture is embracing Jones after all these years. Her song “I’m Coming Home” appears in Shirley, a 2024 Netflix biographical drama about Shirley Chisholm, the first Black woman elected to Congress and who later ran for president.

The same track will be used in the new season of Godfather of Harlem, an American crime drama on MGM+.

“September Jones’s music is getting her time,” Wilson says. “It’s all over Spotify. It’s been used in films.”

O’Hara dreams of finding Jones alive and bringing her to perform in the U.K.

“If we can find her, and if she was up to it, I would bring her to the U.K. with Ace Records and get her in front of the obsessive U.K. soul collectors and enthusiasts,” he says. “It’s important because it seems like such a shame that there are hundreds of people dancing to these records every week, and the artist has no idea.”

Detroit’s soul legacy continues to echo across the Atlantic.

“The music and talent that has come from Detroit over the past 60 years is quite incredible, and it should be celebrated,” O’Hara says.

And Jones is far from the only missing artist.

“There are still lots of artists out there that need to be recognized,” O’Hara says. “As the years go on, these artists are disappearing.”

For now, September Jones remains an elusive voice that captured hearts across an ocean.

“She may be gone, I don’t know,” O’Hara said. “But I just want her to know she mattered.”

If you know anything about September Jones, you can reach us at [email protected]. You can also reach O’Hara at [email protected] or 00 44 7426 816946.