Big Road Blues

Front cover of Father of the Folk Blues Photographer: Dick Waterman

When I was a teenager discovering the blues one of the first albums that really captivated me was Son House’s Death Letter -I still have it - (the UK equivalent of Father of the Folk Blues), his stunning return to the studio after dropping out of sight for nearly twenty-five years. As author Dan Beaumont writes in his yet-to-be published Son House manuscript: “In 1943 Son House left Mississippi, and, for all that is known of his life over the course of the next twenty one years, he may well have fallen off the face of the earth. But this he did not do-instead he did the next best thing. He moved to Rochester, New York.” As a teenager living in the Bronx I too knew nothing of Rochester outside the fact it was in some nether region of New York State - the farthest I had been was the Catskills, one hundred miles upstate. But as I read Dick Waterman’s liner notes, Rochester and the address 61 Greig Street was burned in my memory. That was where Dick Waterman, Phil Spiro and Nick Perls finally tracked Son down on June 23rd, 1964. Waterman became Son’s manager and the following year he was signed to Columbia and played the Newport Folk Festival. Son had several good years on the comeback trail; he toured the US playing folk festivals and the coffeehouse circuit and he did tours of Europe as well. He also performed locally in Rochester playing concerts at the UR, the Black Candle (later called Studio 9) and the Regular Restaurant in the Genesee Co-Op on Monroe Ave.. The Black Candle was run by Armand Schaubroeck who now operates the world famous House of Guitars. Memories of Son’s local performances are vividly burned into the memories of all who had had a chance to witness him in action.

Son’s rediscovery in Rochester was newsworthy, making it into Newsweek, Downbeat and the May 29, 1965 edition of the Rochester afternoon newspaper, The Times-Union, with a story titled “Son House Records Blues Again.” It must have been a bit bewildering to Son who was living a very low-key life in Rochester as Dan Beaumont notes: “There for twenty one years he lived amidst almost total obscurity. Indeed, what is known of his life in that city from 1943 to 1964 is so slight, so slender, that his biographer’s task becomes well nigh impossible. …The reasons for this sorry state of affairs are, I suspect, at least two. The first is the sorts of interviews that were done with House after his rediscovery. The interviews were done mostly by young, white blues fans-not by journalists or academics-and for these interviewers a period in which House all but ceased performing and even playing was of little interest. …The second reason is, in fact, simply surmise. House had an amusing phrase he would use when asked about the blues being played in the 1960s. It was a phrase he used to dismiss much of the blues music of that period. ‘It’s not the blues,’ he would say. ‘It’s just a lot of monkey junk.’ The blues so dominated House’s life-we have now established the price that he had paid for it-that a period in which he all but ceased playing it may well have seemed to him simply so much ‘monkey junk.’”

I came to Rochester in the late 1980’s for college and have been up here ever since. Over the years I met numerous people who fondly recalled Son House and when I started doing my yearly radio birthday tributes to Son, it brought more people out of the woodwork who gladly shared their memories with me. So it’s puzzling that the City has never honored Son in anyway. At least Cab Calloway (born in Rochester in 1907) has a plaque honoring him, albeit tucked away on a nondescript side street in an equally nondescript park. For years myself and others thought someone should rectify this sorry state of affairs; a plaque, a statue or something to honor one of the pivotal figures in blues history, a major influence on both Robert Johnson and Muddy Waters and who’s recordings are among the most powerful in blues history. It would be a shame to let Son’s memory slip back to the years before he was rediscovered in Rochester, but the sad fact is there is nothing tangible in this city that shows he ever made this city his home for a good part of his life.

Hopefully this will be the year when he finally receives some recognition from his adopted city. This year marks a sequel to last year’s successful Hot Blues For The Homeless concert I was involved in, this year billed as Hot Blues For The Homeless …A Tribute To Son House. I’m hoping this year’s modest concert will be the start of something big. I’ve also heard an unconfirmed rumor that the city plans to honor Son with a plaque which would be welcome news. If you live in Rochester, live close by are just visiting on June 8th make sure to help us celebrate the memory of Son House. As Dick Waterman reflected: “If in his prime he had been recorded as much as Charlie Patton, Blind Lemon Jefferson or Robert Johnson, he would be considered the pre-eminent artist of his time. …If the blues were an ocean distilled…into a pond…and, ultimately into a drop..this drop on the end of your finger is Son House. It’s the essence, the concentrated elixir.”

“Looking for the Blues”
The cover of Newsweek, July 13, 1964 and the article about the ‘rediscovery of Son House. The lead story in the magazine was about disappearance of three civil rights workers in Mississippi and the violence there.

“Finding ‘Son’ House”
The article that Dick Waterman wrote in The National Observer in July 1964 about how he and Nick Perls and Phil Spiro found Son House in Rochester, NY.

“I Can Make My Own Songs”
An interview with Son House, in his own words, by Julius Lester from Sing Out!, July 1965.

Son House Ontario Place 1964 (Link)
An early rediscovery concert at Washington’s Ontario Place by John Meid

Son House Discography (Link)

This is our second installment of my rummage thought the amazing trove of field recordings George Mitchell recorded over a twenty year period. For more background make sure to read part one. As I mentioned in the first installment a good chunk of these recordings have been collected in the 7-CD George Mitchell Collection box set from Fat Possum. In the first part I covered the first three volumes and now take a look at the remaining ones.

Disc 4 is dominated by two giants, Fred McDowell and R.L. Burnside, recorded two days apart in the summer of 1967. McDowell had recorded prolifically by this point ever since Alan Lomax found him in 1959. Burnside, however, was unknown outside of his community. As Mitchell recalled: “We heard about R.L. from Othar Turner. See, Fred McDowell hadn’t mentioned R.L. - competition. Big-time competition. …The very first song he did was “Goin’ Down South.” You can imagine…I was completely taken aback. …’Goddamn this motherfucker’s good. I have found somebody.’” Four of those songs are included here which have all been reissued by Fat Possum as First Recordings and they remain among Burnside’s finest. What makes the McDowell session so special is his reunion with harmonica player Johnny Woods who McDowell hadn’t seen in eight years. The resulting off-the-cuff jam session is a spellbinding, intense affair as the duo pour it on with jaw dropping intensity on McDowell’s trademark “Shake Em’ On Down” and “Mama Says I’m Crazy.” All of these sides have been collected on Fat Possum’s Mama Says I’m Crazy. Three additional tracks with Woods taking the vocal appear on disc 3.

“Too many people went to Mississippi”, lamented Mitchell. Unlike many, Mitchell, didn’t confine his activities to that state, instead recording extensively in Georgia and Alabama. Mitchell uncovered the details of a rural sound in the Lower Chattahoochee Valley which encompasses the Chattahoochee River as it runs the southern border between Georgia and Alabama to the state line of Florida. Those who play in the style include: Cliff Scott, J.W. Warren, Jimmy Lee Harris, Precious Bryant, Albert Macon and Eddie Harris. Fat Possum’s Lower Chattahoochee Valley collects fifteen sides by various exponents of the style. The standout is Cliff Scott a wonderful bottleneck player who had a gently rolling style and a mellow, expressive vocal exemplified on songs like “Long Wavy Hair.” “Woke Up This Morning” has a strong delta feel, close to the style of Muddy’s plantation recordings. Jimmy Lee Harris, who worked with his brother Eddie Harris, played uncanny harmonica without a harmonica, a skill he learned in jail and was an expressive vocalist with a rhythmic style. Both men were recorded in the early 1980’s in Alabama. Eddie’s two numbers reveal a a fine electric guitarist with a down-home Jimmy Reed style. Mitchell also recorded the duo Albert Macon & Robert Thomas around the same time. The two had been playing together for some twenty years and their empathy is on display on the rollicking “Flat Foot Boogie” (”Play the strings out of it! Beat the blood out of it, now!”) as the two interweave their percussive guitars with remarkable skill and vitality. Precious Bryant has achieved a measure of success in recent years with a pair of national releases but the Mitchell recordings from 1969 were her first, cut when she was just twenty-seven. Her three numbers are utterly charming propelled by her propulsive, gently rolling guitar and husky, quite vocals. J.W. Warren was the last artist Mitchell recorded in the field and certainly a major talent. Warren had a gently driving guitar style, occasionally employing slide, and was a wonderful interpretor of traditional material as well as laying down intriguing originals like “Hoboing Into Hollywood.” A dozen of Warren’s sides have been issued on Fat Possum’s Life Ain’t Worth Livin’.

There’s several name artists on these volumes including Robert Nighthawk, Maxwell Street Jimmy, Jesse Mae Hemphill, John Henry Barbee, Furry Lewis, Will Shade and Charlie Burse. Nighthawk, of course, needs no introduction and Mitchell’s recordings capture him just months before he passed away. Although the booklet doesn’t say so, “Down By The Woodshed” is a previously unissued instrumental and two more unissued sides are available as digital download: “Down By The Wayside” and “Travelin’ Man Blues.” Mitchell was involved in a concert series at Chicago’s Fickle Pickle club where excellent recordings were made by under recorded figures like John Henry Barbee and Maxwell Street Jimmy. Not available on the box set but available as digital download, possibly from the Fickle Pickle series, are a half-a-dozen sides by James Brewer who’s long been a favorite. As far as I can tell these have not been issued before. As for the Memphis contingent, Furry Lewis is in exceptional form stretching out at length on “Good Morning Judge” and “Furry Lewis’ Careless Love.” Fat Possum’s Good Morning Judge contains ten tracks Mitchell recorded in 1962 and 1967. Will Shade’s sides are a bit rough around the edges although quite entertaining, especially his filthy version of “Dirty Dozens” where, as Mitchell notes, “he says it all” and the lively “K.C. Blues” with Burse on vocals. Like Precious Bryant, Jesse Mae Hemphill made her first side with Mitchell. She was only twenty-two when delivered a pair of absolutely captivating gospel numbers with minimal guitar backing.

Another notable female artist was Rosa Lee Hill who lived near Jesse Mae and was the daughter of Sid Hemphill. Mitchell devoted a chapter to Hill in his 1971 book Blow My Blues Away. Hill played compelling, hypnotic blues in the North Mississippi style and is captivating on stark numbers like “Bullying Well” and “Pork & Beans” (”Mama’s in the kitchen cookin’ pork and beans/Daddy’s on the ocean runnin’ submarines”). Two other artists featured in Mitchell’s book were Robert Diggs and Robert Johnson. Diggs was a marvelously expressive harp player delivering a lovely version of “Someday Baby”and a virtuoso harmonica workout on the instrumental “Racehorse Charleston.” Robert Johnson had given up the blues in 1927 for the church. Johnson’s powerful, bluesy moaning vocal is heard on four riveting numbers accompanied by his daughters. There’s some marvelous gospel on the final disc, a bonus CD by artists Fat Possum didn’t know enough about to include in the original 7″ set, by the Pettis Sisters who lay down a pair of rousing numbers making one wish they had been more extensively recorded. There’s no shortage of talent on this disc including fine sides by Willie Rockomo, Bruce Upshaw and George Hollis all of whom had some sides issued on the Revival label back in the 1970’s.

The days when you could go down south with a portable recorder and capture some unheralded blues genius is gone. These recordings are a rich, vibrant look at a vanished era. Historically and musically this is and incredible cache of recordings and I’m glad Fat Possum made these available. However, as I said in part one, I wish they had presented these in a more consistent, less scattershot manner. These recordings deserve better. You only have to look at how Dust-to-Digital handled the Art Rosenbaum field recordings to see how it should have been done.

Cliff Scott - Long Wavey Hair (MP3)

Albert Macon & Robert Thomas - Flat Foot Boogie (MP3)

Rosa Lee Hill - Pork & Beans (MP3)

J.W. Warren - Rabbit On A Log (MP3)

Robert Diggs - Someday Baby (MP3)

For the last few weeks I’ve been captivated by the recordings of George Mitchell who made some remarkable field recordings throughout the South over a twenty year period beginning in the early 1960’s. Many of these recordings have appeared on specialist labels like Southland, Revival, Flyright, Arhoolie and Rounder but are long out of print now. Several years ago the Fat Possum label acquired the Mitchell archive and has been reissuing the recordings through a variety of formats including CD, 7-inch record and digital download. While I admire Fat Possum for issuing these recordings, which will be of interest to a very narrow audience, their reissue of the material has been frustrating. They started the reissue program with single CD’s of artists like Fred McDowell, J.W. Warren, Joe Callicott but eventually settled on putting the records out as series of 7″ records (45 volumes in total) which seems a sure fire way of limiting their impact. Furthermore they have issued some more single artists CD’s of folks like Cecil Barfield, Leon Pinson and Buddy Moss but these now seem impossible to locate. It seems a good chunk of the Mitchell collection (including many sides not on the box set) is available through eMusic and Amazon as digital downloads. I finally decided to pick up the The George Mitchell Collection box set which contains all 150 songs on each of the 45 7-inches spread out over six CD’s plus a 24-track bonus CD by artists Fat Possum didn’t know enough about to include in the original set. Also included is a well written booklet. I have to admit I’ve been a bit obsessed with these remarkable recordings and also picked up a couple of the individual CD’s plus downloaded a number of songs that don’t appear on the box set. Here, then, is the first of a two part trawl through these recordings as we look through the first three CD’s.

Mitchell wasn’t the only one roaming the south in the 1960’s in search of blues; there was folklorists and researchers such as David Evans, Sam Charters, Gayle Dean Wardlow, Art Rosenbaum and others. Some were hunting for the famous names who made records in the 1920’s and 1930’s, others were seeking to fill in biographical blanks regarding some of the older musicians coveted by collectors and then there were those, like Mitchell, who were seeking to record whoever they could find. Mitchell did record some of the famous artists of the past like Buddy Moss, Furry Lewis, Will Shade, Sleepy Johns Estes and was the first to record artists who would achieve later fame such as R.L. Burnside, Jesse Mae Hemphill, Othar Turner and Precious Bryant. While the blues revival was picking up steam with newly discovered artists like Son House, Bukka White and Mississippi John Hurt hitting the circuit, Mitchell’s recordings were a sort of a parallel undercurrent to the more famous artists. What Mitchell recorded in the rural communities of Georgia, Tennessee, Alabama and Mississippi in the 1960’s was a still thriving, if largely undocumented, blues culture. Mitchell had the passion and drive to seek out these folks, and unlike some folklorists didn’t use the music to reinforce his own theories, he simply let the musicians speak for themselves and judging by the recordings they clearly responded to Mitchell’s sincerity (being a southerner probably didn’t hurt as well). Mitchell came along at the right time as he relates in the notes to the LP South Georgia Blues by William Robertson aka Cecil Barfield: “As late as 1969 a country bluesman who at least occasionally played could be located in most small towns of Georgia. In 1976, there are very few active blues musicians left in the state! In the short span of seven years, one of the world’s most vital and influential forms of music as it was originally performed has all but died out in Georgia, and probably in the rest of the South as well. …Most bluesmen have either died or fallen into ill health accompanying old age, and the younger generation of rural blacks long ago turned their backs on the blues.” It was also, he noted, the Church who claimed many bluesmen as well as the lack of financial incentive to play the blues that was the music’s death knell.

The most striking musician on the first disc is Cecil Barfield, and I agree with Mitchell’s assessment that he was some kind of genius. Mitchell called him “probably the greatest previously unrecorded bluesman I have had the pleasure of recording during my 15 years of field research.” Using the name William Robertson, in fear of endangering his welfare checks, he cut the LP South Georgia Blues for Southland in the mid-70’s with several other tracks appearing on Flyright’s Georgia Blues Today (reissued by Fat Possum with the same title and liner notes). I imagine Barfield is an acquired taste but to me he is simply mesmerizing; his music, with his droning, lightly distorted electric guitar coupled with his powerful mushed mouth, nasal singing, is hypnotic. Barfield has some originals but his genius is in the way he transforms well known songs by Frankie Lee Sims (”Lucy Mae Blues”), Lightnin’ Hopkins (”Mojo Hand”), J.B. Lenoir (”Talk To Your Daughter”) and others into something startlingly original. Only four songs by Barfield are on the box set although I was so taken with his music I downloaded all his songs on Amazon (George Mitchell Collection Vol. 2, Disc 3 & 4), 43 songs in all!

The sheer depth of singular talent is consistently surprising. Take John Lee Zielgler recorded in Georgia in 1978 and Lonzie Thomas recorded in Alabama in the early 1980’s. Zielgler achieves a a gorgeous, fluid slide technique from his unorthodox style (he was a left-handed guitarist who played a right-handed guitar upside-down). His three numbers not only feature his slide work but also his beautiful high pitched voice backed by the wonderful spoon player Rufus Jones. In true field recording tradition you can hear little children playing in the background. More of his sides can be found on George Mitchell Collection Vol. 5. Thomas plays some fine finger picking reminiscent of John Hurt but not as refined, and possesses a deep, rich voice as he delivers old time numbers like “Rabbit On A Log”, “Raise A Ruckus Tonight” and showcases some slide on the fine “My Three Woman.”

Teddy Williams and William “Do Boy” Diamond were both recorded in Canton, Mississippi in 1967 on subsequent days. Diamond was a basic guitar player but possessed a great, relaxed voice. “Hard Time Blues” is a magnificent number, sharing the same haunting quality of some of Skip James’ numbers. More of his sides can be found on George Mitchell Collection Vol. 5. It’s suggested the older Williams may have taught Diamond, and he too is a powerful singer in a similar style. Mitchell’s trip to Mississippi in 1967 was an extremely fruitful one and in addition to the above artists he recorded stunning sides by Houston Stackhouse (in a trio with Robert Nighthawk and Peck Curtis plus Carey “Ditty” Mason on some sides). It was a fortuitous recordings as Nighthawk died a few months later followed by Mason in 1969 and Curtis in 1970. These highly regarded sides have been issued before on Arhoolie and Testament. In addition there is some unissued material by Nighthawk and Stackhouse that should be of major interest to collectors. Also recorded during this trip were some powerhouse sides by Fred McDowell and harpist Johnny Woods and the wonderful Joe Callicott who’s long been a favorite of mine. Only three songs apiece are included by each artist but each has full length CD’s available on Fat Possum, both of which come highly recommended.

Other older, established players Mitchell recorded were Buddy Moss in 1963 and Dewey Corley in 1967. Mitchell found Moss through Peg Leg Howell (who he also recorded although his sides have not been reissued). Moss was part of the the great Atlanta blue scene of the 1930’s working with Barbecue Bob, Curley Weaver, Blind Willie McTell as well as recording prolifically between 1933 and 1941. He was a forgotten man when Mitchell recorded him but the six sides included here find him in superb form. A moody and difficult character (a 1976 interview with Robert Springer was titled So I Said ‘The Hell with It: A Difficult Interview with Eugene ‘Buddy’ Moss) his comeback never took off like it should, although Atlanta Blues Legend recorded in 1966 and issued on Biograph is quite good. Jug band veteran Dewey Corley is also in good form playing vigorous kazoo and one-stringed bass backed by Walter Miller on guitar on three loose, fun numbers.

Disc three features a trio of fine players from Georgia recorded in 1969: Bud White, Jim Bunkley and George Henry Bussey. Like many of the artists Mitchell found, none were professional musicians but all are quite good. White was a percussive guitar player with a high, rich voice, Bussey had a light, gently propulsive style and good voice while Mitchell describes Bunkley’s style as a”frolicking” sound in contrast to the harder Mississippi style. Both Bussey and Bunkley were paired on the 1971 album George Henry Bussey and Jim Bunkley issued on Revival.

Mitchell also recorded a fair number of religious material including gospel singers and marvelous slide players, Leon Pinson and Green Paschal, both who play stirring gospel inflected blues. Pinson worked with the great singer/harmonica player Elder Roma Wilson early in his career and reunited with him when Wilson was rediscovered in the 80’s, with the duo having a fair bit of success on the festival circuit. Pinson is a major artist with fine understated baritone and a ringing slide style. The stunner is “What God Can Do” sung in a beautiful crooning style, dipping occasionally into falsetto. It only lasts a minute-and-a-half but the depth of feeling resonates long after the song concludes. Paschal was a rough expressive singer and exciting, percussive slide player who comes across as a less intense version of Son House.

Cecil Barfield - Lucy Mae Blues (MP3)

John Lee Ziegler - Who’s Gonna Be Your Man (MP3)

Lonzie Thomas - My Three Woman (MP3)

William ‘Do Boy’ Diamond - Hard Time Blues (MP3)

Leon Pinson - What God Can Do (MP3)

The world lost not only a great blues and gospel singer in May 2004, but a truly charismatic, larger than life figure when Arnold “Gatemouth” Moore passed in Yazoo City, Mississippi at the age of 90. Gatemouth summed up his talents as a blues singer this way: “I am one of the ultra-men blues singers. I am not accustomed and don’t know nothing about that gut-belly stuff in the joints…I put on tuxedos, dressed up, sang intelligent…Without a doubt, and I’m not being facetious, I’m the best blues singer in the business with that singing voice. Now I can’t wiggle and I can’t dance, but telling a story, I don’t think them other boys are in my class.” Often labeled a blues shouter,with his perfect diction and huge, mellow, enveloping voice he was more accurately a blues crooner of the highest order. His heyday as a blues career was short lived, cutting a couple of dozen sides between 1945 and 1947 that saw release on Gilmore’s Chez Paree, Savoy, National with his final records cut for King at the very end of 1947. His most famous number was the immortal “Did You Ever Love A Woman” although his output was consistently high cutting should-have been-classics like “I Ain’t Mad at You Pretty Baby”, “Walking My Blues Away”, “They Can’t Do This to You”, “Highway 61 Blues” backed by swinging big bands featuring top flight jazz musicians such as Budd Johnson, Jimmy Hamilton, Harry Carney, Tiny Grimes, and John Hardee. His blues career came to a close in 1949 when he had a religious conversion on stage at Chicago’s Club DeLisa. After walking off stage he eventually became a preacher, gospel disc jockey and gospel recording artist.

Inexplicably in 1977 he stepped back briefly into the world of blues cutting Great Rhythm & Blues Oldies Vol. 7, an exceptional album despite it’s generic title. The album was produced by Johnny Otis and issued on the Blues Spectrum label. According to the notes: “Three years ago in Los Angles, Moore startled his longtime buddy, Johnny Otis, by announcing his intention to record some of his old blues. ‘You can’t do that, Gate, you’re a minister,’ Johnny protested. ‘Yes, I can, ‘ Moore countered, ‘I’m not going to be a blues singer again but it is part of my heritage and I want you to produce it.’” On the surface this is an easy album to overlook; firstly it’s not available on CD, there’s that generic title and a program of remakes of older material. Yet Gatemouth was in dynamic, inspired form, backed by spirited support from Johnny Otis and his son Shuggie.

Good old fashioned blues singing, the ability to really sell a song, to tell a compelling story to your audience don’t seem to be the attributes favored by white fans who value instrumental prowess and equate sophistication with commercialism. Gatemouth puts on a clinic of good old fashioned blues singing on this album, refashioning his old material and delivering some fine new compositions. The album kicks off with the chugging”I Ain’t Mad At You, Pretty Baby” sung with gusto. The number was first cut in 1945 and based on a real life incident as Gatemouth recalled: “I was in Washington D.C. when I wrote that one. A woman had just taken her shoe off and busted her old man across the head with it. As the cop car came to take her away, the guy ran up behind it, blood still running from his forehead, yelling ‘I ain’t mad at you, baby’.” Gatemouth tells the following story regarding “Did You Ever Love A Woman” which he also remakes on this album: “Well, my wife wasn’t home when I came back to Memphis from a trip, so I went down on Beale Street to look for her. A fellow said, ‘Yeah, she’s upstairs.’ I’m mad now. The band leader saw me. ‘Sing something, Gate,’ he said. I was looking for my wife, and I told him to turn up all the lights. I shouted out singing: ‘My wife is here with another man/and I swear we’re going to fight.’ That song came from me looking for Willa Mae. She got outta there too.” Many have covered this song but no one sang it better than Gatemouth and here he delivers a vigorous, impassioned remake that has all the power of the original cut thirty tears previously. Those famous lines still resonate: “Did you ever love a woman/And love her with all your might/When all the time you knew she wasn’t treating you right.” Backed by Johnny Otis’ sparkling vibes, “My Mother Thinks I’m Something” is a marvelous update of “Something I’m Gonna Be” originally cut for King in 1947. It’s another great story song:

My mother thought I was something
You know folks something I gotta be
I tried so hard to make fame, so I could let my dear mother see
I tried so hard to make fame, so I could let dear Georgia see
See my mother thinks I’m something, and I declare something I gotta be

“Gate’s Christmas Blues” is a silky remake of of his 1946 number “Christmas Blues” again featuring terrific vibes from Otis. 1945’s “It Ain’t None of Me” is remade in glorious fashion as “Somebody Got To Go” as Gatemouth bellows out the blues with that great opening line : “Say Mr. Jones, turn up all them lights/My baby’s in the house with another man and I swear we gonna a fight.” Newer material includes the deeply soulful blues of “Everybody Has Their Turn” which has more updated sound, the rocking “Boogie Woogie Papa” (I wonder what the congregation thought about this one?!) and a gorgeous interpretation of “Goin’ Down Slow” sporting some sympathetic guitar work from Shuggie and piano from Johnny.

The album’s masterpiece is “Beale Street Ain’t Beale Street No More” an impassioned six minute lament on the destruction of Gatemouth’s old stomping grounds. According to the liner notes this was done off-the-cuff which would make it all the more remarkable. Like many, Gatemouth cut his teeth singing the blues at the Beale Street clubs and for almost a hundred years it was the center of black urban life in Memphis. According to the Tennessee Encyclopedia of History: “In 1969 the city undertook urban renewal projects, including Beale Street I and Beale Street II, which erased the area’s housing, demolished 474 buildings, and placed a block-wide barrier of empty lots and parking spaces between African Americans and Beale Street. This project left a thin commercial (blue light) district between Second and Fourth Avenues, where African American businesses were forced out through condemnation of buildings and high property resale prices. The Memphis Press-Scimitar (June 10, 1979) declared “Urban renewal destroyed Beale Street.” This is the backdrop of Gatemouth’s passionate, bitter insider’s recounting of the old street as he recalls the street in better days: “My mind run back/When it was a fast track/The old Street was jumping.”He nostalgically recalls now shuttered joints like the One Minute, Pee Wee’s and the Palace (”where I learned to sing the blues”) and to the street’s characters like Robert Henry, Little Mickey, Brother Moss, Lieutenant Lee and Memphis Ma Rainey. The song slowly builds up steam to rousing finish as he sadly concludes: “Beale Street ain’t Beale Street no more/My street is gone, gone to come back no more.”

My Mother Thinks I’m Something (MP3)

Beale Street Ain’t Beale Street No More (MP3)

Somebody Got To Go (MP3)

Goin’ Down Slow (MP3)

RIP 1931 - 2007

Show Notes:

By now everyone knows that Ike Turner has passed. Just about every notable publication had an obituary or opinion on Ike and not surprisingly many focused on his well publicized troubles instead of his musical legacy. Serious blues and rock fans know that well before Tina, Ike was a major player on the R&B and blues scene of the 1950’s.

Ike and his Kings of Rhythm were right in the thick of things when blues and R&B was coalescing into rock and roll. Ike made his mark as rock solid boogie piano player and was also a distinctive guitarist with a biting tone who was one of the first to make the whammy bar an integral part of his sound. Growing up in Clarksdale Ike’s first inspiration was pianist Pinetop Perkins who also inspired Ike’s life long friend Ernest Lane. “Anyway”, he recalled, “we started talkin’ to Pinetop and he started teaching us different little boogie-woogie things. And from there, that started my musical life.” It should be noted that Lane was still touring with Ike at the time of death and remains a fine piano player in his own right, and is one of the last who plays in the rock ribbed, boogie based style.

As a teenager talked himself into a DJ slot on the local radio station, where he played everything from the jump blues of Louis Jordan to country & western. He formed his first band while still in high school, and by the late ’40s had assembled an outfit dubbed the Kings of Rhythm. After “Rocket 88” Turner and his band became session regulars around Memphis; they went on to back legendary bluesmen like Howlin’ Wolf, Elmore James, Bobby Bland, Jr. Parker, Buddy Guy, Otis Rush and a host of Sun artists . During the early ’50s, Turner switched from piano to guitar, and also doubled as a talent scout for the Bihari Brothers’ Los Angeles-based Modern Records, where he helped get early breaks for artists like Howlin’ Wolf and B.B. King. For many years Turner was the linchpin of Modern, working as a talent scout for Joe Bihari, a go-getter, a good pair of hands in the studio, and a fine musician to boot. On today’s program we feature sides by Howlin’ Wolf, Charley Booker, Elmore James, Driftin’ Slim and Baby Face Turner all featuring Ike’s piano.

Also featured today are many sides Ike cut with the mighty Kings of Rhythm, some of which came were issued variously as Ike Turner’s Kings of Rhythm, Ike Turner and His Orchestra and other variations. The Kings of Rhythm employed several fine vocalists including Jackie Brenston, Billy Gayles, Billy Emerson, Dennis Binder, Clayton Love, Lonnie “The Cat”, Johnny Wright. Many of these sides were issued under the singer’s name and we feature a number of these sides on today’s show. In addition we feature many of Ike’s many scorching instrumentals. Ike’s ferocious whammy-bar and ultra-aggressive string-bending solos were way ahead of their time from the mid-1950s onwards. He always considered himself foremost a boogie pianist who picked up electric guitar during the early 1950s because he had difficulty finding a reliable axeman for his band. “It sounds like I was a guitar player,” said Ike. “But I’m not.” We counter that claim by playing a number of Ike’s jaw dropping guitar workouts like “Loosely (The Wild One),” “Go To It (Stringin’ Along),”"Prancing, “The New Breed” among others.

Ike relocated to St. Louis in he late 50’s frontong one of the hottest live acts in the area. The late 50’s were leaner times for Ike cutting an unissued session for Sun, scattered 45’s for Cobra/Artistic in Chicago (backing Otis Rush, Betty Everett, Buddy Guy in addition to cutting thier own material). Though his hitmaking activities with Tina began to relegate Ike’s wild guitar to the background from 1960 on, he found time to cut an instrumental album for Sue in 1962 called Dance With Ike & Tina Turner’s Kings of Rhythm. Ike Turner Rocks The Blues was issued on Crown in 1963 and was a collection of his 50’s sides. Ike and Tina did cut a couple of solid blues based albums for Blue Thumb in 1969; Outta Season and The Hunter which actually featured an uncredited Albert Collins on guitar. Also in 1969 when he was out on tour in 1969 with his regular gig, the Ike & Tina Turner Revue, Ike Turner cut the instrumental album A Black Man’s Soul which was reissued by Funky Delicacies in 2003 with bonus cuts. Strange Fruit was another instrumental outing cut in 1972 for United Artists and the aptly titled Blues Roots was also cut for United Artists in 1972.

Ike has been well served on CD reissues. Among those featured on today’s show include: Traiblazer (Charly) a collection of late 50’s sides for Federal, Ike Turner: 1958-1959 (reissued by Fuel 2000 as King Cobra: The Chicago Sessions) a collection of his Cobra sides, Rhythm Rockin’ Blues a collection of early-’50s sessions with the Kings of Rhythm, Ike’s Instrumentals, Blues Kingpins a 18-track collection drawn from the vaults of RPM, Modern, Crown, and Sue. In addition Ike’s role as talent scout is meticulously documented on the 4-CD Ace label series Modern Downhome Blues Session which collects sides Joe Bihari and Ike Turner recorded in the deep South for Modern between 1951 and early 1952. Notewriter Jim O’Neal sets the scene for these recordings: “The tale of their [the Bihari brothers] exploits in the land of cotton has all the elements of a Dixie docu-drama, complete with an indignant Southern heroine [Lillian McMurry of Trumpet Records], a double-dealing native talent scout [Ike Turner], small town sheriffs and police, subterfuge, disguise, raiders, traitors, spies, and clandestine operations. But no shots were fired in these skirmishes, and the only casualties were in lost record sales revenue, broken contracts, violated trusts, and one unfortunate blues artist’s shattered career. The Biharis’ battle wagon was a flashy new Cadillac, their artillery a four-channel Magnecord tape recorder, and their ammunition reels of magnetic tape and rolls of cash.”

Ike Before Tina

Ike Turner New York Times Obit

Ike Turner Discography

Show Notes:

From late 1958 into the early 60s, Junior Parker toured the country with a show called Blues Consolidated with long time running mate Bobby Bland and Willa Mae Thornton with a combo led by Duke Records veteran Joe Scott. Today’s show spotlights both of the remarkable singers who rose to prominence in the early 1950’s on the fertile Memphis blues scene.

Junior Parker was an extraordinary blues singer and harmonica player who laid down some superb material over the course of a twenty-year career (1952-1971) before his life was cut short just prior to his fortieth birthday. It’s inexplicable, then, why he has such a low profile among blues aficionados. He hit the charts a fair bit through the 1960’s for Duke, retained a strong following among the black club audience but failed to break through to a wider audience. As such he was virtually ignored by the new white blues audience of the 1960’s. If Parker is mentioned at all these days it’s usually in association with his 1953 number “Mystery Train” which was picked up by Elvis.

Parker learned his initial harmonica style from Sonny Boy Williamson II and gigged with the Howlin’ Wolf while still in his teens. Like so many young blues artists, Little Junior (as he was known then) got his first recording opportunity from talent scout Ike Turner, who brought him to Modern Records for his debut session as a leader in 1952. It produced the lone single “You’re My Angel” b/w “Bad Woman, Bad Whiskey” with Turner on piano and Matt Murphy on guitar. Parker and his band, the Blue Flames (including Floyd Murphy, Matt’s brother, on guitar), landed at Sun Records in 1953 and promptly scored a hit with their rollicking “Feelin’ Good.” Later that year, Parker cut “Love My Baby” and “Mystery Train.”

Before 1953 was through, Junior Parker had moved on to Don Robey’s Duke label in Houston. It took a while for the harpist to regain his hitmaking momentum, but he scored big in 1957 with the “Next Time You See Me.” Parker developed a horn driven sound (usually the work of trumpeter/Duke-house-bandleader Joe Scott) that added power to his vocals and harp solos. Parker’s updated remake of Roosevelt Sykes’s “Driving Wheel” was a huge R&B hit in 1961, as was “In the Dark.”

Parker continued to hit the charts through the 60’s with a mix of blues and R&B scoring with songs like “Sweet Home Chicago”, “Annie Get Your Yo-Yo”, “Man Or Mouse”, “Someone Somewhere.” Once Parker split from Robey’s employ in 1966 the hits began to wane. From 1966-1968 he recorded for Mercury and its Blue Rock subsidiary and cut sides for Capitol in 1970. Parker died in November 1971 during an operation for a brain tumor. Before he passed he sailed into the 1970’s in promising fashion cutting a pair of terrific albums; “You Don’t Have To Be Black To Love The Blues” circa 1970/1971 for Groove Merchant and “I Tell Stories Sad And True” for United Artists which was released in 1972. In 2001, he was inducted into the Blues Hall of Fame.

For all his promise, Bland’s musical career started slowly. He was a founding member of the Beale Streeters, the famous Memphis aggregation that also included B.B. King and Johnny Ace. He cut singles for Chess in (produced by Sam Phillips) and Modern in 1951 that failed to catch on. Bland hooked up with Duke in 1952 cutting a few singles before entering the army. Bland always had a great voice but his early sides were a bit rough around the edges. But his progress upon his 1955 return was remarkable; with saxist Bill Harvey’s band providing support, Bland sounded much more assured.

Most of Bland’s sides during the mid- to late ’50s featured the slashing guitar of Clarence Hollimon, notably “I Smell Trouble,” “I Don’t Believe,” “Don’t Want No Woman,” “You Got Me (Where You Want Me),” the torrid “Loan a Helping Hand” and “Teach Me (How to Love You).” But the guitar riffs guiding Bland’s first national hit, 1957’s “Farther Up the Road,” were contributed by Pat Hare. Later, Wayne Bennett took over on guitar, his fret work prominent on Bland’s Duke waxings throughout much of the ’60s. “Farther Up the Road” was a #1 R&B hit, the first of more than 20 R&B top ten records. During this period Bland toured the Southern chitlin circuit incessantly. Joe Scott steered Bland into smoother material as the decade turned; a mixture of blues, R&B, and soul on numbers like”I Pity the Fool,” “I’ll Take Care of You,” and “Two Steps From the Blues” which were tremendously influential. Scott’s brass arrangements provided the perfect backing on Bland’s rockers like “Turn on Your Love Light” in 1961 and “Yield Not to Temptation” the next year.

In 1973, Don Robey sold his labels to ABC Records, and Bland was part of the deal. Without Joe Scott and his familiar surroundings to lean on, Bland’s releases grew less consistent although “His California Album” in 1973 and 1974’s “Dreamer” had some nice moments. Bland re-teamed with his old pal B.B. King for a couple of mid-’70s albums. Since the mid-’80s, Bland has recorded Malaco Records. His last album was “Blues At midnight” in 2003.

By now everyone knows that Ike Turner has passed. Just about every notable publication had an obituary or opinion on Ike and not surprisingly many focused on his well publicized troubles instead of his musical legacy. Serious blues and rock fans know that well before Tina, Ike was a major player on the R&B and blues scene of the 1950’s. Less well known is that even during the Ike & Tina years Ike would occasionally go in the studio with a version of his Kings of Rhythm or members of the Ike & Tina band and cut some roots based records. In 1962 he cut an instrumental album for Sue called Dance With Ike & Tina Turner’s Kings of Rhythm, in 1969 when he was out on tour with the Ike & Tina Turner Revue, he found time to cut the instrumental album A Black Man’s Soul (reissued by Funky Delicacies in 2003), Strange Fruit was another instrumental outing cut in 1972 for United Artists and then there was the aptly titled Blues Roots also cut for United Artists in 1972. it seems Ike was looking back a bit to his early days as Ike and Tina cut a couple of solid blues based albums for Blue Thumb in 1969; Outta Season and The Hunter, the latter featuring an uncredited Albert Collins on guitar. In 1969 he also produced Earl Hooker’s Sweet Black Angel for Blue Thumb; supposedly he plays piano but it may in fact be Ike’s buddy Ernest Lane but Ike does play guitar on the blistering instrumental “The Mood” that closes the album.

It’s a shame Blues Roots hasn’t been issued on CD as it features Ike on a dozen blues tracks playing some stinging guitar and singing exceptionally well. Ike reminds me of Earl Hooker in the sense that both were outstanding guitar players who weren’t confident vocally, although both were good singers, who relied on a host of others to do the singing. From what I’ve been able to dig up Turner cut the album in his home studio (the album was cut at Bolic Sound which was a studio Ike himself built) and played all the instruments himself although there’s no mention of this on the album itself.

Blues Roots is an earthy, well produced album with some occasionally odd but effective overdubbing and it’s clear that Ike was having some fun turning the knobs and experimenting in the studio. At it’s heart the album sticks close to the title as Ike puts his unique stamp on covers like Chuck Willis’ “You’re Still My Baby” and “Broken Hearted” both beautifully sung numbers with Ike crooning quite a bit like Charles Brown with the latter featuring Ike tearing it up on both piano and guitar. Ike proves to be a fine singer and his frequent spoken asides are priceless. “Goin’ Home” is another wonderfully sung number with bleating trumpet while “Lawdy Miss Clawdy” and “Think” are fairly faithful covers with the latter boasting some of Ike’s dazzling string bending. Ike’s impressive fretwork is also showcased on the low-down “Rockin’ Blues”, a sizzling cover of “That’s Alright” backed by some vamping horns, “My Babe” and the slightly chaotic, yet infectious “If You Love Me Like You Say” sporting a wild, rock tinged guitar sound. Finally I have to mention the bizarre “Right On” with a strangely overdubbed vocal as Ike raps out a litany of observations; pearls of wisdom include “I love snow but I hate cold weather, things always go better with Coke” and “Like the rich man he, go out look for the pretty girl, the pretty girl go out looking for the rich man. The two get together - sad news” and “There’s one thing about the dark, you can’t tell black from white - everything feel alright.” Whatever you say Ike!?

I’ll be doing an extensive tribute to Ike on the January 13th show. Featured will be a good number of Ike’s 1950’s sides with the Kings of Rhythm, some of his session work, sides with Tina plus a few other assorted odds and ends including some tracks from Blues Roots.

You’re Still My Baby (MP3)

Rockin’ The Blues (MP3)

That’s Alright (MP3)

While there are a few modern day blues mandolin revivalists, the instrument has largely consigned to the dustbin of history. Although little-heard on commercial recordings after the 1940s, the mandolin played an important role in blues and early rural black music. The mandolin can be heard on numerous recordings of the 1920’s and 1930’s particularly on several black string band and jug band recordings. Johnny Young was the most famous of the post-war mandolin players who after waxing a couple of exciting 78’s for Ora Nelle and Planet/Old Swing-Master circa 1947-48 didn’t resurface on record for fifteen years. Thankfully the 1960’s and 70’s were a different story with Young recording for Testament, Arhoolie Vangaurd, Spivey, Blue Horizon, Blues On Blues, Bluesway as well as a number of of other scattered sides. Young played traditional Chicago blues, rooted in the 40’s and early 50’s, and didn’t share much in common with more modern upstarts like Otis Rush, Buddy Guy and Magic Sam. He also had one foot in his home state of Mississippi, his music still tied to the southern blues style of the 1920’s and 30’s and the vibrant string band tradition.

The general consensus ranks his Arhoolie recordings among his best but for my money his Bluesway album, I Can’t Keep My Foot From Jumping, is one of his finest and one that gets unjustly ignored. Of course it doesn’t help that the album has been long out of print and that the Bluesway label doesn’t have the best reputation. Producer Al Smith has been the target of much of the animosity against the label summed up writer Pete Lowry in a 1974 Living Blues review: “Here was a strange man-I don’t know if he was any kind of bass player, but he surely produced some screwed-up sessions. I won’t go into artist “relations,” but merely deal with the sessions; there have been some predictable characteristics. Lousy liner notes, replete with phonetic spelling (to be kind), incomplete or wrong personnel data, as well as often incomplete or disordered listings of the tunes… As for the records themselves, they varied from good to near disasters. The results of Al’s Special Ninety Minute Album Sessions included inconsistent levels on instruments, as if the warm up/test stuff was mixed for release (as was most likely the case!), some strange sounding stuff (out-of-synch echo units), and just total lack of programming. Al seems to have assembled albums in the order recorded, with no concept of the album as a programmed whole. For an artist to survive this sort of “production” he had to be damn good, or be having a better than average day in the studio.”

In 1969 Young cut a record for Blue Horizon that was titled Fat Mandolin in the UK. I’ve had the US version for years which goes under the less inspired title of Blues Masters Vol. 9. My impression of this one has been less than favorable although admittedly I hadn’t listened to it in years. Apparently I’m not the only one as Mike Vernon relates: “To the best of my recall, the album got little press coverage. It was, of course, certainly reviewed by the blues magazines of the time but with little real enthusiasm.” Now with the release of Johnny Young: The Complete Blue Horizon Sessions it’s time for a reassessment. For his part, Young had scorn for both labels: “Them people really cheated me, man. You know how much they gave me to make the LP? $50.”

After listening to the The Complete Blue Horizon Sessions I’ve revised my opinion of theses sessions and have to say they hold up quite well although I don’t think they rival the Bluesway and Arhoolie recordings. Mike Vernon’s assessment is right on the mark: “What you will be listening to is tough, straight ahead, no messin’ Chicago blues, echoing the great 40’s era, as exemplified in the work of Big Maceo Merriweather and John Lee Williamson.” Young plays mandolin on the bulk of the cuts aided by members of Muddy Waters’ band: Otis Spann, Sammy Lawhorn, Paul Oscher and S.P. Leary. Young was a warm, powerful singer and magnificent mandolin player. Thankfully this set features a good dose of his rippling mandolin work on numbers like “Moaning And Groaning”, “Lula Mae” which suffers from a very abrupt fade, “Prison Bound” and a rocking version of “Stealin’ that fades just when things are really cooking. The latter track is one of three unreleased tracks, the others, “Go Ahead On (With That Funky Broadway Sound”, a slow number despite the title, and “Johnny’s Mess Around” are fun but a bit loose and aimless. The band, as to be expected is very good and of course Spann is always a joy to hear. While overall a very solid set, there’s a spark missing, a sense of excitement and energy that’s lacking.

That spark is clearly evident on I Can’t Keep My Foot From Jumping a 1973 outing that was to be his final album. Young died the following year. Young’s brawny, rippling mandolin playing is better recorded then the Blue Horizon, much more up front in the mix, and there’s a crackling energy lacking in the earlier session. The band locks into a rock solid groove behind their leader: Louis Myers, Bill Warren and Richard Evans. The pianist is uncredited but may be Bob Reidy who Young had been playing with for several years and who appears on a Blues On Blues LP from around the same time period. Young plays mandolin on every track and there’s an innate sense of swing beginning with the chugging title track, not only an instrumental showcase for Young’s mandolin prowess but also for the band, including blistering guitar from Myers and in-the-pocket drumming from Bill Warren. Several of the same songs appear on both albums with the Bluesway versions superior; those include “Lend Me Your Love”, “Train Fare Out Of Town” and a knockout version of “Deal The Cards.” There’s not a bad track to be found with favorites going to “I Gotta Find My Baby”, “Stop Breaking Down” and the jumping shuffle “I Know She’s Kinda Slick.” Vocally young has rarely sounded better and the album as a whole serves as a clinic on blues mandolin playing.

Just about everything Young cut is worthwhile and despite some caveats I would certainly recommend the Blue Horizon set. Blue Horizon has been doing a superb job with their reissue series with all the releases boasting excellent sound and notes plus bonus tracks. Now if only someone would do this for the Bluesway catalog which, outside of a few which have made it onto CD, have languished in the cut out bin for far too long.

Moaning And Groaning [Blue Horizon](MP3)

Stealin’ [Blue Horizon](MP3)

Deal The Cards [Bluesway] (MP3)

I Know She’s Kinda Slick [Bluesway](MP3)

Show Notes:

It’s not much of a stretch to call Otis Spann the greatest of the post-war Chicago piano men. Perhaps his only rival was Little Johnny Jones, who like Spann, never made it past his his fortieth birthday. Spann was born in Belzoni, Mississippi and inspired by local piano players Friday Ford and Tolley Montgomery, sibling of Little Brother Montgomery. He won a talent contest at age eight and began playing local vaudeville acts. After his mother died in the mid-40’s he headed to Chicago where his father and aunt lived. After playing with Morris Pejoe and others, he heard from Jimmy Rogers that Muddy Waters needed a piano player and he was promptly hired in 1951. Between 1953 and 1969 and played on the bulk of Waters’ Chess recordings. He also became a key session pianist backing Little Walter, Sonny Boy Williamson II, Howlin’ Wolf, Buddy Guy, Lowell Fulson, Junior Wells, Chuck Berry and many others.

Starting in 1960 he launched a solo career parallel to his day job with Muddy Waters. Despite being an almost daily presence in the Chess studios, he cut only two sessions as leader. His own Chess output was limited to a 1954 single, “It Must Have Been the Devil,” that featured B.B. King on guitar, and sessions in 1954 and 1956 that remained in the can for decades. Chess may not have been impressed but the sides hold up well and I’ve decided to play them all for this feature. Spann cut albums for numerous labels including Candid, Prestuge, Bluesway, Storyville, Testament, Spivey and Vanguard among others. Spann rarely sounded less than inspired but he was occasionally ill served by his record companies and his sidemen. Unqualified successes include his Candid recordings with Robert Lockwood (issued in it’s entirety with bonus cuts, but out of print, as the Complete Candid Recordings: Otis Spann/Lightnin’ Hopkins Sessions) as well as those for Storyville and two albums for Bluesway (issued together on Down To Earth: The Bluesway Recordings) backed by the Muddy Waters band. Also quite good are The Blues of Otis Spann, hailed as one of the best blues albums ever made in Britain and The Biggest Thing Since Colossus (reissued with many bonus cuts as the 2-CD set The Complete Blue Horizon Sessions) finding Spann backed by three-fifths of Fleetwood Mac. Less successful are recordings made for Vanguard, Prestige and the two albums for Spivey which have never been issued on CD.

Mahalia Lucille Jenkins began as a church gospel singer in Mississippi and continued to practice when her family moved to Chicago around 1952. She met Otis Spann in the 1960’s. The two began a musical collaboration and would later marry. Lucille and Otis performed regularly at college gigs and would record together until Otis passed in 1970. Lucille continued to work in music performing at the 1972 Ann Arbor Blues & Jazz Festival and making a few recordings before passing in 1994.

Lucille was a strong, gospel inflected vocalist who at times could be quite affective while at other times her vocals leaned to the histrionic side. Her 1960’s recordings are all in the company of her husband and she’s featured on recordings Otis did for Bluesway, Vanguard and Spivey. A couple of her best sides, “Chains of Love” and “Love With A Feelin’” (both on Chicago Blues Masters Vol. 3) were cut for World Pacific in 1968, and both featured in our show. There is also Last Call, recorded live in 1970, three weeks before Otis Spann passed, featuring Lucille taking all the vocals. Overall this is a depressing listening experience and not the way anyone would choose to remember Spann. In the 1970’s Lucille sang “Dedicated to Otis” at the 1972 Ann Arbor Blues & Jazz Festival which is on the 2-LP companion album, cut her only album, Cry Before I Go, for Bluesway in 1973 and waxed the 45’s Country Girl Returns Part 1 & 2 and Woman’s Lib for Torrid.

Junior Parker was an extraordinary blues singer and harmonica player who laid down some superb material over the course of a twenty year career (1952-1971) before his life was cut short just prior to his fortieth birthday. It’s inexplicable, then, why he has such a low profile among blues aficionados. He hit the charts a fair bit through the 1960’s for Duke, retained a strong following among the black club audience but failed to break through to a wider audience. As such he was virtually ignored by the new white blues audience of the 1960’s. If Parker is mentioned at all these days it’s usually in association with his 1953 number “Mystery Train” which was picked up by Elvis.

Parker died in November 1971 during an operation for a brain tumor. Before he passed he sailed into the 1970’s in promising fashion cutting a pair of terrific albums; You Don’t Have To Be Black To Love The Blues circa 1970/1971 for Groove Merchant and I Tell Stories Sad And True for United Artists which was released in 1972. Parker’s singing on these albums, to quote critic Tony Russell, “could be used as a manual of blues singing;” his singing is a model of control and phrasing, almost delicate with it’s high, fluttering range, with every line placed perfectly for maximum effect. His harmonica playing is quite and melodic, parceled out in small but effective doses.

It sounds old fashioned, maybe even trite, but Parker really knew how to put across a song. He was a marvelous interpretor, a skill ably demonstrated on You Don’t Have To Be Black To Love The Blues a collection of mostly standards and revivals of his old numbers. The gorgeous “Five Long Years” sets the tone with his languid, delicate phrasing matched by a stripped down, very mellow backing group. Parker takes his time on exquisite versions of “That’s Alright”, “Tin Pan Alley”, “Sweet Home Chicago” and the fluttering vocal of “Man Or Mouse” a revival of a 1967 chart hit for Duke. “Way Back Home” is a funky, infectious soul/jazz instrumental sporting some fine, nuanced harmonica playing from Parker. Neither the album or the recent Blues Discography has a listing for the band but I was told that it was The Crusaders. This jibes with the overall sound, the fact that the song “Way Back Home” was written by member Wilton Felder and that The Crusaders also backed B.B. King during this period.

The date on I Tell Stories Sad And True is 1972 which means this must have came out posthumously and marks this as Parker’s last date. As such it makes one acutely aware of what a loss Parker’s untimely passing really was. Parker’s singing is every bit as good as the previous album as he once again puts his deeply personal stamp on a set of blues standards and stretches out quite a bit more more on harmonica which is certainly welcome. He’s backed by crack band including Wayne Bennett on guitar, Phil Upchurch on bass and a horn section that includes James G. Barge and Willie Henderson. The highlight is easily the nearly eight minute cover of Joe Hinton’s “Funny How Time Slips Away.” Parker delivers this as a hip, spoken rap, intermittently singing the song’s poignant lyrics in a hushed, gorgeous delivery. As the album opener it nearly overshadows the rest of this fine album. Parker puts across everything else in classy, intimate fashion including the Percy Mayfield numbers “Stranger In My Home Town”, “My Jug And I” plus standards like “Going Down Slow” and “The Things I Used To Do.”

As befitting his undervalued status, Parker’s recorded output seems to slip in and out of print. You Don’t Have To Be Black To Love The Blues seems to have been recently reissued on CD and can also be found in it’s entirety on Way Back Home: The Goove Merchant Years. I Tell Stories Sad And True has not been issued on CD as far as I know.

Five Long Years (MP3)

Funny How Time Slips Away (MP3)