Big Road Blues

Mississippi John Hurt’s “Avalon” Blues” provided a road map some thirty plus years later to the singer just as Bukka White’s “Aberdeen Mississippi Blues” led to the rediscovery of White (John Fahey and Ed Denson addressed a letter to “Bukka White (Old Blues Singer), c/o General Delivery, Aberdeen, Mississippi”). Similar, but more roundabout was a clue the mysterious King Solomon Hill left back in 1932. In 1966 Stephen Calt contacted blues detective Gayle Dean Wardlow writing that he heard “goin’ Minden” in King Solomon Hill’s “The Gone Dead Train.” That correspondence led to the unraveling of one of the blues greatest mysteries. “… I went to Minden and began asking people on the streets in the black section if they heard of a King Solomon Hill who made records in 1932. One of them said, after listening to the King Solomon Hill cuts from the Sam Collins LP ( Origin Jazz Library OJL-10), ‘That sho’ ’nuff sounds like Joe Holmes. You go down there to Sibley. That where he come from.’” Sibley was the hometown of Holmes which resulted in Wardlow’s King Solomon Hill (78 Quarterly no. 1 (1967): 5-9) and One Last Walk Up King Solomon Hill (Blues Unlimited no. 148 (Winter 1987): 8-12) both reprinted in the book Chasin’ That Devil Music.

Roberta Allums, who was once married to Joe Holmes, is pictured here with (unidentified) neighbor holding a 1932 King Solomon Hill record. Photo Gayle Wardlow

Both Mississippi John Hurt and Bukka White were duly rediscovered and went on to successful comebacks during the blues revival. No such luck for King Solomon Hill who according to his ex-wife died in 1949. Hill’s legacy is the six sides he cut for Paramount in 1932: “Whoopee Blues”, “Down On My Bended Knee”, “The Gone Dead Train”, “Tell Me Baby”, “My Buddy Blind Papa Lemon” and “Times Has Done Got Hard.” The last two numbers were not found until 2002 by record collector John Tefteller. It seems particularly true in blues that quantity has no bearing on artistic achievement and obscure artists have issued music on par with their more established peers. King Solomon Hill is a case in point, all six sides small three minute masterpieces in there own way. King was closely connected to Crying Sam Collins and Blind Lemon Jefferson and their influence is evident, to some degree, in Hill’s style. Hill’s records are utterly captivating featuring his eerie falsetto and a raw, slide style featuring irregular rhythms and notes said to be stretched out by the use of a cow bone. The integration between his free form slide guitar and vocals perfectly compliment one another. “Whoopee Blues” is a version of Lonnie Johnson’s 1930 number “She’s Making Whoopee in Hell Tonight” although with a totally different guitar part and with a bleak, haunting quality missing in Johnson’s version. The flip side is the equally compelling “Down On My Bended Knee.” The Gone Dead Train” may be his finest number, a magnificent train blues apparently about a railroad disaster. The flip side, “Tell Me Baby”, is variation of Memphis Minnie’s 1930 number “What Fault You Find of Me, again with a different guitar part and given a wholly original treatment. If anything, the newly discovered Hill sides confirm his genius; “My Buddy, Blind Papa Lemon”is a heartfelt tribute to someone Hill clearly admired: “Hmmm then the mailman brought a misery to my head/When I received a letter that my friend Lemon was dead.” Hill ran with Lemon for about two months after he passed through Minden. Hill’s widow recalled that “he sung that song a whole lot ’bout Blind Lemon. Said he loved his buddy ’some way better than anyone I know.’” “Times Has Done Got Hard” is a superb hard time blues opening with knocking notes on the guitar as he sings “That’s the rent man/You know it must got tough he coming here before rent’s due/Ahh baby, sorry we got to move.”

Those who’ve been enthralled with haunting, otherworldly sounds of Robert Johnson and Skip James would do well to listen to King Solomon Hill, one of the more intriguing footnotes in pre-war blues history. With the newly discovered sides there is no one collection that contains all of Hill’s recordings. Six sides can be found on Document’s Backwood Blues 1926-1935, the newly found sides can be found oh the JSP set When The Levee Breaks plus several Hill tracks appear on various Yazoo compilations with superior remastering. Also make sure to make read Wardlow’s Chasin’ That Devil Music which details the known facts of Hill’s life and is an all around essential read for fans of early blues.

Whoopee Blues (MP3)

Down On My Bended Knee (MP3)

The Gone Dead Train (MP3)

Tell Me Baby (MP3)

My Buddy Blind Papa Lemon (MP3)

Times Has Done Got Hard (MP3)

Show Notes:

Lonnie Johnson’s talents have been justly praised, he’s by no means obscure, yet he seems to be overlooked by blues fans and collectors. When the early collectors were investigating the old blues singers they seemed to have singled out Mississippi, the Delta in particular, as the incubator for the real blues. They seemed to have favored the more obscure, down home artists in lieu of more popular, sophisticated artists like Lonnie. More urban, popular artists like Lonnie and Tampa Red seem to have their very popularity held against them in favor of artists deemed more authentic like Son House, Skip James and of course Robert Johnson. Lonnie’s guitar skills have been duly praised but less is said about just what made him so popular among black audiences, namely his bittersweet vocals, both confident and confiding, and his insightful songs into the human condition. Here then, is my tribute to Lonnie which due to time constraints focuses on his recordings from the 1920’s through the early 1950’s omitting his fine 60’s output. The below piece was something I wrote on Lonnie a few years back.

Lonnie Johnson was a true musical innovator who’s remarkable recording career spanned from the 1920’s through the 1960’s. During that time his musical diversity was amazing: he played piano, guitar, violin, he recorded solo, he accompanied down home country blues singers like Texas Alexander, he played with Louis Armtrong’s Hot Fives, recorded with Duke Ellington, duetted with Victoria Spivey and cut a series of instrumental duets with the white jazzman Eddie Lang that set a standard of musicianship that remains unsurpassed by blues guitarists. In Johnson’s single-string style lie the basic precedents of such jazz greats as Django Reinhardt and Charlie Christian, while being a prime influence on bluesman as diverse as Robert Johnson, Tampa Red and B.B. King. Thus Johnson enjoys the rare distinction of having influenced musicians in both the jazz and blues fields. While his guitar skills have been justly celebrated less has been said about his bittersweet vocals, tinged with a world weary sadness and capable of a rare subtly and nuance. It was a perfect match for his well crafted and imaginative songs filled with dark imagery, longing and an unflinchingly misogynist view of woman and love. In an interview with valerie Wilmer he described his approach this way: “I sing city blues. My blues is built on human beings on land, see how they live, see their heartaches and the shifts they go through with love affairs and things like that— that’s what I write about and that’s the way I make my living. …My style …comes from my soul within. The heart-aches and the things that have happened to me in my life—that’s what makes a good blues singer. …I have my own original style, all my life I sang this way. I have also made quite a progress in singing ballads ’cause I sing blues, ballads, swing—anything.” Despite his amazing versatility and the longevity of his career, he remains a somewhat under appreciated figure particularly among blues scholars and collectors.

He was born Alonzo Johnson in New Orleans and his year of birth has been variously listed as 1889, 1894 and 1900. He was one of thirteen children, all of whom were groomed to play in their father’s string ensemble. “When I was fourteen years old I was playing with my family. They had a band that played for weddings—it was schottisches and waltzes and things, there wasn’t no blues in those days, people didn’t think about the blues.” Johnson began his career in earnest and bought his first guitar. In 1917 Lonnie sailed to London with a musical revue but few details have surfaced regarding this event. When he returned to New Orleans he was greeted with the news that virtually his entire family had been wiped out by the widespread influenza epidemic of 1918. Johnson moved north to St. Louis around this period with his surviving brothers. By this time he already had a successful career as a blues violinist, working steadily not only in New Orleans, but in a jazz band led by coronet player Charlie Creath. After a falling-out with Creath, Johnson discarded the violin and formed a trio with his brother James (Steady Roll), who played violin, and pianist DeLoise Searcy. Big Bill Broonzy, who played in St. Louis (but not with Johnson) recalled that “Lonnie was playing the violin, guitar, bass, mandolin, banjo, and all the things you could make music on. . .”

In 1925 Johnson won a Blues contest held at the Booker T. Washington Theatre in St. Louis (for 18 weeks in a row, he said), sponsored by the Okeh record company. Part of the prize was a recording deal with the company. “I had done some singing by then”, he recalled, “but I still didn’t take it as seriously my guitar playing, and I guess I would have done anything to get recorded - it just happened to be a blues contest, so I sang the blues.” His first session in 1925 found him as the featured vocalist with Creath’s band and they cut “Won’t Do Blues” in November of 1925. By January 1926 Johnson’s first 78, “Mr. Johnson’s Blues”/”Falling Rain Blues” was on he market. Johnson proved an immediate success and he commenced to recording at an astonishing pace, cutting over 130 sides between 1925 and 1932, more than any make blues singer of the period. In addition to his own records he he appeared prominently on the records of other Okeh artist such as Clara Smith, Victoria Spivey, Texas Alexander and others. He became a respected name to jazz collectors because of his solos on records by Louis Armstrong such as “I’m Not Rough,” “Mahogany Hall” and and on Duke Ellington records like “Hot And Bothered” and “The Mooche.” He was also celebrated for a series of remarkable duets with white guitarist Eddie Lang (masquerading as Blind Willie Dunn) in 1928-29 that were utterly groundbreaking in their ceaseless invention.

Although Johnson’s earlier works continued to be issued until 1935, his live recording prospects in the mid-thirties were largely foreclosed by a dispute with Lester Melrose, the music publisher who largely ruled local recording. Apparently Melrose refused to record him unless he changed his too-familiar guitar style. Johnson refused to do so. The result was he enjoyed no sessions between 1932 and 1937. In person, he appeared in Chicago with the drummer Baby Dodds, and with such popular musicians as Roosevelt Sykes and John Lee (Sonny Boy) Williamson. Eventually he was forced to work outside of music when the Depression was in full swing. Johnson recalled: “I worked for a firm makin’ railroad ties in Galesburg, Illinois …I went to Peoria Illinois …and I work’ in a steel foundry there. Play the blues at nights…”

Johnson came back to recording life with a contract from Decca in 1937 with the first session recorded on 8th November of that year. During 1938 another session was done for a total of 16 titles. In 1939 he signed a contract with Bluebird. Johnson picked up right where he left off, selling quite a few copies of “He’s a Jelly Roll Baker” and cutting wealth of fine material that helped Johnson regain his former popularity. He recorded for Bluebird until 1944. Johnson next cut a half dozen records for the New York based Disc label in 1946 and then made his first amplified performances on record in June 1947 for Aladdin Records. Later that year he started a fruitful association with an emerging independent company in Cincinnati, King Records.

On December 11, 1947 Johnson entered the King Records studio at 1540 Brewster Avenue in Cincinnati, Ohio and recorded what was probably the most successful record of his long career, King 4201 - “Tomorrow Night” - often subtitled on the King label as “Lonnie Johnson’s Theme Song.” By 1950 “Tomorrow Night” had sold a million copies. The December 1947 King session marked the beginning of Johnson’s six-year stay in Cincinnati spent recording for King Records, playing local clubs and touring occasionally. Johnson recorded prolifically scoring chart sucess with “Pleasing You”, “So Tired” and “Confused.” In 1952 Johnson made an 11 month tour of England. When he returned to the States his career took a downward turn when he contract with King Records ended in 1952.

The rest of the 50’s were a down time for Johnson who spent much of the decade outside of music working construction or toiling as a janitor. In 1959 Samuel Charters’ groundbreaking book “The Country Blues” was published which described Johnson’s situation in rather morbid terms: “He is not a young man, and the opportunities for an older singer to break into the teenage rock and roll craze that dominates the industry are very slight. For Lonnie it has been a long road, without much of an end.” In actuality things took an upswing when a year prior Johnson was rediscovered by jazz enthusiast Chris Albertson which rekindled a major comeback. As Albertson wrote in the liner notes to Johnson’s Bluesville debut: “I was interviewing Elmer Snowden on my radio show when I played an old record by Lonnie which I followed up with the remark: ‘I wonder whatever happened to Lonnie Johnson?’ Elmer replied: ‘I saw him in the Supermarket the other day’. A listener then called up and said that he worked with Lonnie at the hotel so I finally contacted him, brought him to my apartment and had him play for me. Having recorded his playing and singing and realizing that he was as good as ever I took the tapes to Prestige and Lonnie was on his way again.” Between 1960 and 1962 he cut five albums for the label, three of which were produced by Albertson, and showed that Johnson had lost little despite several years outside of music. He spent the early 1960’s working a busy schedule that eventually took him back to Europe for the 1963 American Folk Blues Festival. He also made records in England, Denmark and Germany. As he said to Valerie Wilmer in 1963: “I have enough work now back in the States to do me for the next fifteen years.”

As the 1960’s rolled on it seemed that the blues revival was passing Johnson by. As singer Barbara Dane noted: “This was largely true, because he was a very sophisticated player in a moment when the world was looking for the rough and earthy Delta players. …Lonnie had a strong attraction for the romantic pop songs like “I Left My Heart In San Francisco” etc. which he played when the audiences were looking for the gritty blues. People during the early ’60s searching for blues roots wanted to hear ‘funky and back-alley’ and Lonnie played clean and uptown. Lonnie craved respect for what he created, like any other musician. The (white) public at that time was mostly looking for someone who could personally introduce them to their fantasy of black culture. In other words, he was out of tune with the times.” In 1964 Johnson went to Toronto for a club appearance, found an ardent group of admirers and remained there until his passing. In 1969 he was hit by a car in Toronto where he was hospitalized for several months. He died the following year on June 16, 1970 from the effects of the accident.