A family friend told The New York Times that Morton died of cancer.
Morton was best known for his work with The Shangri-Las, including producing and co-writing the No. 1 hit "Leader of the Pack." Mary Weiss, lead singer of The Shangri-Las, said Morton was a good friend and a great collaborator. "He never got the recognition he deserved," Weiss said. "We made magic together. I cannot explain it to anyone."
Morton, who could not play an instrument or read music, worked with all kinds of acts in his career, from the prog rock of Vanilla Fudge to the tender folk of Janis Ian to the glam rock of the New York Dolls.
Morton, who was born in Virginia and raised in Brooklyn and Hicksville, earned his nickname "Shadow" for his ability to move undetected in and out of studios. His shadowy nature has kept open for decades the question of whether he produced Iron Butterfly's classic "In-a-Gadda-da-Vida" at Hempstead's Ultrasonic Studios in 1968.
After he split with Vanilla Fudge, Morton spent most of his time in Dix Hills, raising his three daughters and racing cars. Later, he designed golf clubs.
"He was an inspiration," said Jim Faith, co-founder of the Long Island Music Hall of Fame, which honored Morton in its first class of inductees in 2006, alongside Billy Joel and Joan Jett. "He had a big impact on the music business and, coming from Long Island, we felt it was important to induct him."
Morton's successes, especially the pop of "Give Him a Great Big Kiss" and the guitar-heavy sound of Vanilla Fudge's "You Keep Me Hanging On," continue to influence music today. Producer Mark Ronson tweeted his condolences yesterday, adding that "[Morton's] songs were an inspiration for so much of 'Back To Black,' " the Grammy-winning album from the late Amy Winehouse that Ronson helmed.
Janis Ian said Morton, who produced her self-titled debut album in 1967, named her hit "Society's Child," which is also the title of the autobiography for which she won the best spoken word album Grammy last week.
"Shadow trusted my instincts the moment he heard me sing," Ian said. "He sent me into my first session with New York's 'A-list' musicians when I was barely 15. His only instructions as he walked away were 'Go tell 'em what you want 'em to play, kid.' He backed me to the hilt when no one else would . . . He treated me like an artist, not a little girl."
"To say I will miss him fiercely is a terrible understatement," Ian added.