Big Road Blues

Jimmy McCracklin, 2008 Pocono Blues Festival

The term blues legend is too loosely thrown around, seemingly applied to any artist who’s had some measure of longevity in the blues world without regard to the actual content of their recordings. Jimmy McCracklin is a blues legend and I’ve been fan ever since I bought a collection of his 1950’s sides over twenty years ago called Blast ‘Em Dead!. The fact that McCracklin was headlining the 17th annual Pocono Blues Festival was all I needed to hear to make the four hour trek to this year’s festival. The Pocono Blues Festival has become one of the country’s premiere blues festivals through it’s diversity of acts and its commitment to blues, not blues-rock or rock bands that play blues which make up the line-up of far too many so called blues festivals.

Over the years I’ve played McCracklin often on my radio program and two years ago I decided to give him a call and he was gracious enough to chat with me about his lengthy career (interview below). In his heyday, from the late 1940’s through the 1960’s, he led one of the toughest, hardest rocking blues bands on the West Coast. He was a prolific and witty composer, a fine singer/pianist and was a real pioneer in defining the soul-blues style made so popular by Little Milton, Bobby Bland and others. With a pair of excellent records in the 1990’s for Bullseye he achieved some wider exposure although during his hit making days he remained something of a neglected figure with a stature that seems to have always been higher in the black community.

McCracklin shared the bill with Sugar Pie DeSanto, warming up the stage for her on a too short set. Now, I would have loved to see McCracklin in his prime but at age 87 he didn’t disappoint. He remains a vigorous singer who still knows how to put across a song and electrify a crowd. Wearing a bright red suit and matching tie McCracklin delivered the goods on classics like “Think” and one of his biggest hits “The Walk.”

Sugar Pie DeSanto, 2008 Pocono Blues Festival

I’ve never been as big a fan of Sugar Pie DeSanto although I recall picking up the LP Down in the Basement: The Chess Years around the same time as I picked up the McCracklin record. In fact I still have the record complete with $3.99 sticker! DeSanto’s music was a saucy blend of blues and soul and she always sounded like a real firecracker. Well at age 72 she’s still a firecracker and delivered the festival’s wildest show hands down. DeSanto was simply mesmerizing and still full of unbridled sexual energy as she was only too happy to display. Among the highlights were a ripping version of her classic “In The Basement” which she originally recorded as a duet with Etta James and a fine version of the bluesy “Hello San Francisco” which is perhaps my favorite number by her. The song was dedicated to her late husband who she recently lost in a fire. The show stopper was when she brought a friend of ours on stage for a little dancing before taking running leap, wrapping her legs around him and riding him around the stage! Thankfully it’s all on video.

Unlike some other blues festivals which have a bit of a slapped together feel, the Pocono Blues Festival always feels well conceived and thought out which is probably the reason I didn’t see one act that wasn’t worthwhile. Among the other highlights were superb sets by Bobby Rush who did an outstanding solo set in the small tent. Rush played harmonica and guitar, told some colorful stories and absolutely captivated the audience with his charm and enthusiasm. Also in the small tent was Byther Smith who delivered two tough sets of Chicago blues backed by a very good backing band who was playing with Smith for the first time. The sets were heavy on covers but delivered with such grit that it didn’t really matter although it was nice to hear his “Runnin’ To New Orleans” from his fine Smitty’s Blues release from a few years back. Smith has a new CD and DVD from Delmark. Also memorable were the acoustic duo of guitarist Michael Roach and Johnny Mars who play almost exclusively in Europe and a high energy set by Lurrie Bell who seems to get better and better each time I see him.

For a more in depth review of this year’s Pocono Blues Festival make sure to read Doc’s Pocono Mountains - Home of The Blues article.

Jimmy McCracklin Feature/Interview (Aired 9/10/06, 1 hr 1 min, RealAudio)

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It’s not hard to see why Percy Mayfield has been so frequently covered and so often mentioned with admiration among his fellow blues singers; he was a master of the moody blues ballad, he had flawless timing and phrasing and as a writer his songs had a frank, penetrating insight into the dark, complex side of the human condition. Songs like “River’s Invitation”, “Please Send Me Someone To Love”, “Life Is Suicide”, “My Jug And I” and “Stranger In My Own Home Town’, to name just a few, were adult songs for adult listeners, filled with a darkly hued, poetic sensibility, devilish wit and hipster coolness.

Mayfield’s main hit making period was from 1950-1952 when he scored seven top ten hits for the Specialty label including “Please Send Me Someone To Love”, the biggest hit ever for the label. He stuck with the label through the decade, cutting a few singles for Chess, Cash and Imperial along the way, but never matched his early success. In the 1960’s Mayfield’s song “Hit The Road, Jack”came to the attention of Ray Charles who was also starting his own record label called Tangerine. Charles hired on Mayfield as a writer and also gave him a chance to record for the label. Mayfield was at the height of his abilities penning songs for Charles like “Hide Nor Hair”, “At The Club”, “Danger Zone” and “On The Other Hand, Baby.” Mayfield’s own sides for Tangerine were every bit as good and have been collected on Rhino’s limited addition His Tangerine And Atlantic Sides. After leaving Tangerine Mayfield moved to Brunswick, cutting the exceptional Walking On A Tightrope album.

Much less well known are the trio of superb records he cut for RCA in the 1970’s, all unfortunately out of print: Percy Mayfield Sings Percy Mayfield (1970), Weakness Is A Thing Called Man (1970) and Blues…And Then Some (1971). While I won’t go so far as to say these are better than his earlier records, they’re not, they are quite good and deserve to be better remembered. Mayfield’s writing and voice were in great shape, and he was surrounded by sympathetic studio bands including Eric Gale, Billy Butler, Chuck Rainey, Pretty Purdie, Seldon Powell, Snooky Young, and Richard Tee to name a few as well as full horn sections and female backing vocalists. The music is filled with blues ballads, funky shuffles and a touch of soul. Like similar era recordings from Bobby Bland and Junior Parker, the music has a bit of a period feel but finds a veteran artist still at his peak, making a few changes to still sound fresh and relevant.

The albums are filled with songs dealing with relationships, a preoccupation with the past and meditations on the human condition. Percy Mayfield Sings includes the bouncy “Live Today Like The Day Before” and the moody mumble of “To Live The Past”, two songs that find Mayfield ruminating on the past. In the former song he sings:

Well my past is like a whirlwind, on a summer day
It whirls around inside, and I get carried away
So when I’m reminiscing, it’s no fault of mine
It’s just my past that won’t let go but I’m sure it will in time

On Blues…And Then Some the memories of a past love at times soothe his mind on the lovely ballad “Memories That’s All” and are harsher on the funky “Minden Is A Dry Town” from Weakness Is A Thing Called Man. Minden, Louisiana was Mayfield’s hometown and where he returned for solace after he was involved in a terrible auto accident in 1952 which left his matinee-idol good looks disfigured. Mayfield explored this theme in 1964’s masterful “Stranger in My Own Hometown” a devastating portrait of isolation and alienation and his struggle with alcoholism afterward in “My Jug And I” and “The Bottle Is My Companion.” He likely has Minden on his mind on the smoldering “California Blues” also from Weakness Is A Thing Called Man:

I’m gonna leave here, I’m going back where I’m better known (2x)
Where smart people mind there own business, and the fool will leave your business alone
I was born to be a wise man, look how long I’ve been a fool (2x)
I don’t mind being used by people, but I sure do hate to be misused

California, California, make room ’cause here I come (2x)
‘Cause you see, you’re more like a mother to me [spoken: in more ways than one]
Because that’s where I started from

 Travel is also the theme of one of his best blues from this period, the slinky “The Highway Is Like A Woman”, from Percy Mayfield Sings:

The time has come, and I’ve got to hit the road again (2x)
‘Cause I travel with a passion, and the highway is my lady friend
You see the highway is like a woman, soft shoulders and dangerous curves (2x)

If  “Please Send Me Someone To Love” was a universal prayer for peace, Mayfield is still delivering a message on the troubled state of man on the super funky “Stand Tall”, “Right On Young Americans”, the shuffling “Brotherhood Week” and the brooding “Weakness Is A Thing Called Man.”

Above all Mayfield sings masterly about the complicated state of love on the throbbing blues of “This Time You Suffer Too” punctuated by Eric Gale’s economical, stinging licks and a batch of gorgeous blues ballads like “Lonely For My Baby”, “Hand In Hand With Another Man”, “Getting You Off My Mind”, “Contact Me (When You Find Her)”, “You Lied To Me For The Last Time”, “Don’t Want To Lose My Baby” and the evocative “Black Coffee” as Mayfield expertly charts the state of troubled love:

Well my nerves has gone to pieces, now my hair is turning gray
Well I’m a talking to the shadows from one o’clock to four
Lord how slow the moments go, and all I do is pour, black coffee
Love is a sorry affair, a sorry affair

It’s not all gloom and dark shadows. In fact Mayfield has a wicked sense of humor as he displays most notably on “A Lying Woman” and “The Devil Made Me Do It.” On the former he sings:

You’re not a trustworthy woman, ’cause you just lie all the time (2x)
You and I never will never be successful, just as long as you keep on lying
I remember when I met you, you said your name was Mary Jane (2x)
But when I seen you in the line-up, the heat was calling you by another name

In the latter he sings:

Now a broad in a mini-skirt sitting at the bar, her big legs crossed
And just as I asked her, darling, how much do your mini-skirt cost?
Before she could answer my question, and she seemed so very nice
My old lady wanted to know, just what do you wanna to know the price?
I said the devil made me do it, I’m not guilty baby
Well now you might as well get used to it because the devil got most of me

A couple of years back the Raven label did issue Blues Laureate: The RCA Years which collects twenty-five tracks from Mayfield’s RCA period. Still, I wish these records would be reissued in their entirety. After these albums Mayfield slipped back in obscurity but made a comeback in the early 1980’s resulting in a pair of strong live recordings. He passed in 1984.

The Highway Is Like A Woman (MP3)

A Lying Woman (MP3)

Minden Is A Dry Town (MP3)

Weakness Is A Thing Called Man (MP3)

California Blues (MP3)

The Devil Made Me Do It (MP3)

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 I first stumbled upon the music of Tommy McClennan by accident. In my early record buying days one of my favorite haunts was Tower Records at Broadway and West 4th Street in NYC which had a terrific blues section. I think I was looking for a Tommy Johnson record and somehow got him and Tommy McClennan confused. I wound up taking home the LP Cotton Patch Blues 1939 - 1942 on the British Travelin’ Man label which sported an evocative sepia toned cover of cottonfields complete with cotton pickers and and overseer riding a horse. I soon realized my mistake but my disappointment was dispelled when the raw, direct sounds of the first track, “You Can Mistreat Me Here”, hit me and was truly floored when I heard the third number, “Bottle It Up and Go.” I’ve been a fan ever since.

 McClennan is a contradiction; at once wholly individualistic with his powerhouse gravel-throated voice, sprinkled with frequent entertaining spoken asides propelled by an exciting, rudimentary guitar style while on the other hand derivative, with a repertoire mostly drawn from other artists. Despite his limited bag of songs, his limited guitar prowess (despite the boastfully titled “I’m a Guitar King”), McClennan made it work through the sheer force of his outsized personality and his intense commitment to his material. His record label, Bluebird, and the record buying public obviously saw something in McClennan as he cut forty sides (at five eight-song sessions), everyone issued at the time, between 1939 and 1942.

At the time Cotton Patch Blues was released in 1984 writer Alan Balfour noted that “what little is known of Tommy McClennan’s life is based, as is so often the case, on the recollections of others.” McClennan is remembered by bluesmen like Big Joe Williams, Big Bill Broonzy, Jimmy Rogers and most importantly Honeyboy Edwards. Our knowledge of McClennan has been expanded since then with the release of Honeyboy Edwards’ 1997 autobiography, The World Don’t Owe Me Nothing, where he put pen to ink,  recollecting at length about his old friend and partner.

The following is taken from Honeyboy’s memoir which paints a vivid portrait of his old pal: “It was out in Wildwood plantation when I first met Tommy McClennan. Tommy would come out there and play the guitar a while and bump on the piano. He could play the guitar pretty good, but he sure wasn’t no piano player. He threw the people; he had them dancing and hollering. …He could play that guitar, and he could holler; Tommy had a big mouth.  …Tommy played the guitar and gambled, shot dice, played cards. …Tommy was dark and had big eyes like a frog. He was real little, about four and ten, just touched me right along there about the shoulder. Tommy didn’t weigh a bit over 115 pounds. …I and Tommy, we be together all the time. And when he wasn’t with me he was with Robert Petway. …Tommy and Robert was about the same size. They’d come down the street with two guitars, looking like midgets. Now Robert could beat Tommy playing but Tommy could holler more than Robert. …I learned a few licks from Tommy, a few numbers he made. He mad the ‘Bullfrog Blues’ and Petway made ‘The Catfish Blues.’ …Robert and Tommy McClennan and me, we’d be together all the time. On days we wasn’t out playing at the whiskey houses or on the streets; we’d be at Tommy’s house drinking and playing cards, and one of us sitting in the corner practicing some song. …Tommy, he wasn’t really a guitar picker; he was mostly a frailer, and played a few chords in the key of C, running chords with that big loud voice. …Tommy McClennan and me played both sides of town [Greenwood, MS]. We used to serenade in the white neighborhoods. We’d walk down the street amongst all those old houses, strumming our guitars, and we’d see them curtains fly back and they’d chuck nickels and dimes out in the street for us. We’d play ‘Tight Like That’, little jump-up songs for them. Then we’d go back across the river where we come from, raise hell and drink, holler our asses off all night long, singing the ‘Cotton Patch Blues’ in them shotgun houses in our part of town.”

 McClennan arrived in Chicago in 1939 supposedly through the intervention of Big Bill Broonzy who told Bluebird talent scout Lester Melrose he ought to look him up. Again, Honeyboy picks up the tale: “I missed Lester Melrose when he came through Greenwood looking for musicians to record. …He picked up Tommy McClennan then and Tommy recorded ‘Bottle It Up And Go’ for him. He recorded Tommy, Robert Petway, a gang of musicians through the South.” “Bottle It Up And Go” is one of the songs most associated with McClennan although according to Honeyboy he learned the song from Memphis Jug Band member Dewey Corley and in turn taught it to McClennan.  McClennan insisted on playing the song as he learned it in the South, ignoring Northern sensibilities when he sang the controversial lines:

Now the nigger and the white man playin’ seven-up
Nigger beat the white man was scared to pick it up 

Broonzy tells a story of McClennan singing these lines at a house party and being forcibly ejected, forced to leave via the window with parts of his guitar around his neck. McClennan is obviously pleased with this act of defiance, barley able to contain himself as he chuckles throughout the rest of the song. It’s a bravo performance with McClennan hollering out the blues with gusto, using his guitar to finish his verses, offering a running commentary with his spoken asides and finishing up with an energetic bit of trademark scatting. Jimmy Rogers, who met McClennan in Vance, MS commented on his scatting perhaps half-seriously: “Little Richard sneaked around there and stole ‘be-bop-a-lu-bop’ and ‘be-bam-boom’. That was Tommy.”

Bottle It Up And Go (MP3)

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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)

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In the 1920’s and 1930’s all the major labels were deeply invested in the blues, sending mobile recording units all over the south in search of talent. In the late 1950’s and early 1960’s the major labels were no longer recording blues, although that would change as the blues revival kicked into gear. Instead of mobile recordings units there was a committed group of collectors roaming the south in search of the old time bluesmen that appeared on their cherished 78’s; men like Mississippi John Hurt, Skip James, Bukka White, Furry Lewis and Son House. They most certainly weren’t looking for a minor figure like Joe Callicott, who waxed a lone 78 in Memphis in 1930, the year before played second guitar on Garfield Akers’ “Cottonfield Blues Parts 1 & 2.” It was the indefatigable field recorder George Mitchell who found him in Nesbit, Mississippi off Highway 51 not far from Hernando and short distance from Brights were Akers was supposedly born. It appears Mitchell was looking for Callicott although it’s unclear if he was tipped off about his whereabouts or if it was his own initiative: “On that Saturday in Hernando, we pulled up in front of a cluster of Black men shooting the bull in front of the courthouse and spitting tobacco juice on the sidewalk. …I asked if anyone had ever heard of Joe Callicott.” He was directed to Nesbit, seven miles south where he was greeted by a smiling, friendly man: “How y’all doing? Have a seat. I’m Joe.”

Callicott’s “comeback” was about as short as his first recording career, lasting from the summer of 1967 through the summer of 1968; he recorded nineteen sides for Mitchell either late August or early September (split between Revival’s Deal Gone Down and Arhoolie’s Mississippi Delta Blues - “Blow My Blues Away” Vol. 2) four sides at the 1968 Memphis Country Blues Festival (split between The 1968 Memphis Country Blues Festival and Stars Of The 1969-1970 Memphis Country Blues Festival) and seventeen sides for Blue Horizon in 1968 which have all been issued in 2007 as Furry Lewis & Mississippi Joe Callicott: The Complete Blue Horizon Sessions. For a complete listing of his recordings visit the Joe Callicott discography.

I first encountered the Callicott’s music on Mississippi Delta Blues - “Blow My Blues Away” Vol. 2 and found myself going back to those recordings often. He was a good, if unspectacular guitarist, picking out simple, gently surging melodies in a manner that brings to mind Mississippi John Hurt, but as a singer he was magnificent. There’s a timbre and warmth to his vocals that immediately draw the listener into his world and even in his old age he was still capable of delivering a beautiful falsetto in the manner popularized by Tommy Johnson. Callicott’s music is often compared to medicine show artists from the area as Paul oliver noted in the liners to the original Blue Horizon LP: “Nesbit is only a score of miles south of Memphis in the red earth country of De Soto county. From here and the adjacent Tate and Marshall counties a number of the old-style songsters lived …Among them were the medicine show and jug band musicians like Jim Jackson from Hernando four miles from Nesbit, Frank Stokes, a blacksmith who lived some fifteen miles further south in Senatobia, and Gus Cannon from Red Banks, about the same distance to the east.” David Evans noted that Callicott: “…shows a close musical affinity to his old friend Frank Stokes. Both have a kind of quavering vocal delivery, which combined with clear diction and a good feeling for lyrics can be very effective in putting across the meaning of a song.” Callicott’s recordings for Mitchell are superior to those on Blue Horizon, captured in beautiful form on mostly traditional material like “Laughing To Keep From Crying”, the title drawn from a line drawn from Virginia Liston’s “You Don’ Know my Mind” from 1923, an unusually detailed version of “Frankie And Albert”, “Roll And Tumble” and others. Callicott seems distracted and less focused on the Blue Horizon session possibly due to the presence of Bill Barth (second guitar) and Bukka White (whistling). He does turn in some fine performances including “Hoist Your Window And Let Your Curtain Down”, “Joe’s Troubled Blues”, the ancient “War Time Blues” which probably dates back to World War I (Yack Taylor’s “Those Draftin’ Blues” is lyrically and melodically similar) and a fine version of Akers’ “Dough Roller Blues” which sports the arresting lyric: “I’ll cut your throat woman/Drink your blood like wine.”

Of those early recordings, “Cottonfield Blues Parts 1 & 2″ is a classic Mississippi blues hollered over a the throbbing groove of the amazingly tight twin guitars of Akers and Callicott. Callicott explained the set up: “I kept him chorded up good, trackin’ him…You hear them bases? Well, that’s me. Hear them little strings? Well, that’s him…And when that guy would get to playin’, I’m tellin’ you the truth-we’d sit face to face. And we changed up [i.e., swapped guitar lead]…and you wouldn’t know it.” The duo were swept up by one of those mobile recording unit as Gayle Wardlow explained in his groundbreaking article, Garfield Akers and Mississippi Joe Callicott: From the Hernando Cotton Fields: “In the fall of 1929 Brunswick/Vocalion Records made its initial field trip to Memphis to record talent for its Vocalion 1000 and Brunswick 7000 Race series. The session at the Peabody Hotel was highlighted by the first recorded appearances of Garfield Akers, Mattie Delaney, and Kid Bailey, concomitantly with veterans Memphis Minnie and Tampa Red. Callicott recorded his lone 78, “Fare Thee Well Blues/Traveling Mama Blues”, for Brunswick in 1930 at a second session in Memphis where Akers also recorded again (”Dough Roller Blues/Jumpin’ and Shoutin’”).

It’s worth quoting Oliver again from the concluding paragraph of his liner notes: “A wider recognition came almost too late but Joe appeared at the 1968 Memphis Blues Festival and was looking forward to a European trip. Back at his home, with the birds whistling and witnessed by his wife and their bellcow, he recorded his last testament; he died early in 1969 and with him went the last echoes of Mississippi country music of the earliest phase of the blues.”

Fare Thee Well Blues [1930](MP3)

Traveling Mama Blues [1930] (MP3)

Garfield Akers - Cottonfield Blues (Pt. 1) [1929] (MP3)

Garfield Akers - Cottonfield Blues (Pt. 2) [1929] (MP3)

Laughing To Keep From Crying [1967] (MP3)

Goodbye Baby Blues [1967] (MP3)

Dough Roller Blues [1968] (MP3)

Joe’s Troubled Blues [1968] (MP3)

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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)

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Between 1948 and 1952 Baby Face Leroy Foster waxed a handful absolutely terrific sides under his own name for a number fledgling Chicago labels aided by some of the windy city’s best blues musicians. In addition his vocals, drumming, and guitar playing can be found backing some of the greatest Chicago blues records of the era. His death in 1958, at the age of 38, robbed the blues world of a singular, memorable talent and likely did much to hasten his unwarranted obscurity. Mike Rowe summarized his appeal in Chicago Breakdown, his classic survey of the Chicago blues scene: “He was a fine singer with a warm insinuating voice which, like the late Sonny Boy [Williamson], ‘got to people’. Baby face had a curious style; high pitched, it was a mixture of Sonny Boy’s and some of the eccentricities of Doctor Clayton, and between verses he kept up a constant barrage of shouts and encouragements, admonitions and asides. Baby Face’s natural exuberance never trivialized his performance, and he sings movingly on bouncy up-tempo songs and slow blues alike. …He played unfussy drums in the tight, Chicago manner and guitar, not too well, in the sparse city style. But his main talents were drinking, singing and clowning and he was very popular.”

Foster was first cousin to Little Johnny Jones and Little Willie Foster and came up to Chicago in 1945 in the company of Jones and Little Walter. He worked for tips on Maxwell Street before graduating to the clubs playing with the likes of Sunnyland Slim, Sonny Boy Williamson and Lee Brown. Around 1947 he became one of the founding members of the fabled “Headhunters”, a group who included Muddy Waters and Jimmy Rogers and got their name for cutting the heads of any musicians foolish enough to cross their path. Foster first appeared on record in 1945 playing guitar on Lee Brown’s “My Little Girl Blues” b/w “Bobbie Town Boogie” on the Chicago label. He pops up again with Lee Brown on a 1946 date for the Queen label, backs James (Beale Street Clark) the same year, Little Johnny Jones in 1949 (”Big Town Playboy” b/w “Shelby County Blues”), J.B. Lenoir in 1950, Little Walter in 1948 and 1950, Floyd Jones in 1948 (he plays drums on “Hard Times”), Muddy Waters in 1948 and 1949 (notably “You’re Gonna Miss Me (When I’m Dead and Gone),” “Mean Red Spider,” and “Screamin’ and Cryin’”), Snooky Pryor in 1949, Mildred Richards in 1950 (only two copies of this rare record are known to exist) and Sunnyland Slim in 1948 and 1950.

Foster made his debut for Aristocrat at the end of 1948 with “Locked Out Boogie” b/w “Shady Grove Blues” with the record billed as Leroy Foster and Muddy Waters. Propelled by Ernest “Big” Crawford’s thumping bass, “Locked Out Boogie” is an infectious, rough and tumble shuffle with Foster’s engaging, lively delivery. The song is essentially a vocal version of “Muddy Jumps One” cut at the same session with the same group. The mellow “Shady Grove Blues” is sung in what would be Foster’s trademark intimate, laconic style featuring Muddy’s down-home guitar that was so popular with audiences and propelled him to stardom.

Foster’s next entry was a lone outing in 1949 record for J.O.B., “My Head Can’t Rest Anymore” b/w “Take A Little Walk With Me” backed by Snooky Pryor on harmonica and Alfred Elkins on bass. This was a magnificent coupling again with Foster’s reflective, dreamy singing backed superbly by Pryor’s calm, masterful harmonica blowing as Foster encourages him on with Pryor doing the same.

In 1950 Foster cut eight remarkable sides for the small Parkway label. According to the Red Saunders Research Foundation: “Parkway is one of those small Chicago postwar blues labels that developed a legendary reputation based on a handful of recorded sides. In all, the label was in business for little more than 4 months and produced only 23 recordings, of which 14 were released at the time—four by the Baby Face Leroy Trio, four by the Little Walter Trio, two by Memphis Minnie, two by Sunnyland Slim, and two by harmonica-blowing Robert Jenkins. Just four singles are known to have come out on Parkway. …The Baby Face Leroy Trio (featuring vocals by Leroy Foster) and Little Walter sides were recorded in one 8-tune session… Most outstanding of the four Baby Face sides was the two-part “Rollin’ and Tumblin’,” which ranks as one of the most exhilarating products of the Chicago postwar bar-band blues explosion (Muddy Waters and Little Walter were both in the band). The notable Little Walter Trio release featured blues harpist Little Walter on “Just Keep Lovin’ You” and “Moonshine Blues.” Two other Little Walter sides were sold to Regal and not released on Parkway. …Foster played guitar on some of the sides while operating the bass drum and high-hat with pedals.” “

Red Headed Woman” and “Boll Weevil” were paired for release on Parkway 104 featuring Little Walter, Muddy Waters and possibly Jimmy Rogers. “Boll Weevil” is in the best southern blues meets Chicago tradition as Foster relates a well worn theme that has been covered by Ma Rainey and Charlie Patton among others. “Red Headed Woman” is a chugging, wailer that crackles with energy, boasting stupendous blowing from Walter.

Perhaps the most outstanding record was”Rollin’ And Tumblin’ - Part 1 & 2″ issued as Parkway 501. The record was as primal and raw as anything waxed up North resembling more of a southern field recording than a commercial Chicago blues record. Part 1 was a wordless moaning and humming by all participants while Foster sings the verses on the second. According to the Red Saunders website: “Waters had been playing in clubs with this lineup in the previous months, and was frustrated by Leonard Chess’s lack of interest in recording it. The session, reportedly, did not take place in a regular studio. Muddy Waters’ biographer, Robert Gordon, declared that it took place in a ‘warehouse.’” This bit of moonlighting on Muddy’s part got him into trouble as Mike Rowe relates from a story told to him by Jimmy Rogers: “Leonard [Chess] didn’t want Muddy to use that slide on any other label-but here’s Muddy slipped off and cut this thing and Leonard heard it y’know. Then Muddy had to record this same number by himself on Chess.” Foster also plays drums on four Little Walter numbers for Parkway: “Bad Actin’ Woman”, “I Just Keep Loving Her”, “Muskadine Blues” and “Moonshine Blues.”

Again according to the Red Saunders website: “…Leroy Foster returned to JOB after Parkway failed in the middle of 1950 (he had quit Muddy Waters’ band after recording for Parkway, in the mistaken belief that his Parkway releases would establish him as a bandleader). Backed by Sunnyland Slim and Robert Jr. Lockwood, Foster cut “Pet Rabbit” b/w “Louella” in 1951 and “Late Hours At Midnight” b/w “Blues Is Killin’ Me” in 1952. All four songs are built in the same slow, deep blues mold and once again Foster’s laid back, conversational singing casts a compelling, powerful spell over the listener nicely counterpointed by Sunnyland’s rumbling piano.

All of Leroy Foster’s sides under his own name, plus the four Little Walter Parkway sides, can be found on Leroy Foster 1948-1952 on the Classics label. Stayed tuned in the next month or two as we spotlight Foster’s music on an upcoming radio program.

My Head Can’t Rest Anymore (MP3)

Boll Weevil (MP3)

Red Headed Woman (MP3)

Rollin’ And Tumblin’ - Part 1 (MP3)

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This mini documentary was used as the introduction for Ernest Lane
when he played at the Soul Serenade, January 17th, 2008

Here’s a question: what does Robert Nighthawk, Earl Hooker, Canned Heat and the Monkees have in common? The answer is pianist Ernest Lane who’s played with them all in a long and varied music career. It would be some fifty years after playing on his first record that Lane cut 2004’s “The Blues Is Back!”, his first full length record.

Growing up in Clarksdale Lane had the right background for a bluesman; his father was a barrelhouse pianist, his boyhood friend was Ike Turner and Pinetop Perkins was a friend of the family who showed the youngster a thing or two. Ike fell in love with the piano when he peered in at The King Biscuit Boys, featuring boogie pianist Joe Willie “Pinetop” Perkins, rehearsing in the basement of his buddy Ernest Lane’s house. As he recalled: “Man, I never seen nobody’s fingers move that fast on a piano,” he said. “I didn’t even know what a piano was then, and I saw that dude, man. He was playing piano, and they was rehearsin’ at John Lane’s house. Ernest Lane and I was the same age, and we was comin’ home from school and we heard this noise. And we went over there, and boy, these guys-this guy was playing piano so fast, man, I couldn’t hardly see his fingers! And I said, ‘Damn, man! I wanna do that!’ Lane said, ‘Me too!’ Anyway, we started talkin’ to Pinetop, and he started teaching us different little boogie-woogie things.” When he was just a teenager Lane hooked up with legendary slide guitarist Robert Nighthawk. Nighthawk eventually took him to Chicago where his solid piano work graced a number of sides cut for the Chess label in 1948-49 including the blues classic “Sweet Black Angel.” After Nighthawk he played with Earl Hooker, Houston Stackhouse and others before heading to the California in 1956. There he worked with Jimmy Nolen, George “Harmonica” Smith and was recruited by old buddy Ike Turner to be a member of the Ike & Tina Turner Revue. After leaving Ike he joined a group called the Goodtimers who eventually wound up backing the Monkees for about a year on tour. Through the late 60’s/early 70’s he played and recorded for Canned Heat before giving up music altogether. Recently Lane has been featured on a 2000 release by Eddie C. Campbell, played on Ike Turner’s comeback record and toured the US and Europe with Ike’s band.

I first spoke to Ernest several years before he issued his comeback record when I was doing some research into Robert Nighthawk. When he issued his record I interviewed him on my Bad Dog Blues radio show. Here’s a link to that interview that starts off with some music from the record:

Ernest Lane Interview 7/25/04 (mp3)

While doing research into Robert Nighthawk several years ago, I became friendly with Nighthawk’s daughter who I eventually met in Chicago. Her mother was still living in Chicago as well but didn’t want to talk about “that man” as she conveyed to me through her daughter. She finally did talk to me on the phone years later and I believe I was the only who she ever talked to about her years with Nighthawk. When I was in Chicago the daughter showed me a glossy photo of her mother, Ernest and Nighthawk which as far as I know has never been published before. In looking at the above documentary I see a similar (it may be the same - my memory’s a bit foggy) photo used which I thought I would reproduce.

Ernest Lane, Robert Nighthawk and Nighthawk’s wife Hazel McCollum circa late 1940’s

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I first came across the Sparks Brothers some twenty years ago on The Piano Blues Volume Twenty: Barrelhouse Years 1928-1933, the second to last installment of the Magpie label’s groundbreaking piano blues series. Featuring the arresting, high pitched vocals of Milton “Lindberg” Sparks and the sensitive, rolling piano of Aaron “Pinetop” Sparks, the songs, “Down On The Levee”, “Louisiana Bound” and “East Chicago Blues”, made a strong impression on me. I believe it was in the 1990’s when Document got around to issuing their complete recorded works on CD.

Aaron and Marion (he changed his name to Milton in 1929) were twins born to Ruth and Sullie Gant in Tupelo, Mississippi. Soon after the twins were born Ruth married Carl Sparks. According to Cleveland Sparks, uncle of Aaron and Marion: “Piano player Aaron he learned how to play piano before he could holler and shout…it was a coloured fellow teaching him. He had a joint y’know selling bootleg whiskey back in the corner. He just had a crowd there all the time and he just learned to play. His name Arthur Johnson and he been dead so long nobody down there would know him–’cause he was a old man when he was teaching that boy.” Henry Townsend, who often accompanied Marion, had this to say: “He just kept getting better and better and got to playing for illegal joints y’know. …Pinetop was doing a lot of house-party playing and uh ’cause this was a trend then. We would go from house-party to house-party and make some money to pay the rent. We’d go from place to place like that I mean it’d be announced at this party before it was over that there would be such and such a place to get their rent paid and Pinetop would play for those kind of parties where they had a piano–and I kinda went around him quite a bit.” Now at that time Milton wasn’t singing, Pinetop was the star when it come to singing. And so just out of nowhere Milton decided he was going to sing and he’d start. …Aaron got the name Pinetop because “He was very good at the number that Smith made [Pinetop Smith's "Pine Top's Boogie Woogie"]. Yeah he was very good with that number and as most guys do he just started to call himself Pinetop himself y’know. The nickname “Lindberg”, Townsend suggests, was probably due to Milton’s prowess in dancing the Lindberg or Lindy Hop. In addition to the recollections of Townsend and Cleveland Sparks, biographical background on the brothers was gleaned from their thick police files; Milton was arrested some 50 times for fighting and gambling and other minor offenses while Aaron was picked up 18 times.

The brothers cut four sessions, the first for Victor and the other three for Bluebird, between 1932 and 1935. Milton cut two songs for Decca in 1934 under the name Flyin’ Lindberg. Aaron backed a number of St. Louis artists at their second session: Elisabeth Washington, Tecumseh McDowell, Dorotha Trowbridge, James “Stump” Johnson and Charlie McFadden. The brothers’ led rough and tumble lives reflected in songs that dealt with gambling, jail, alcohol, woman, hoboing and railroads. In spite of their lyrics and rough background, the music the brothers made was surprisingly tender and wistful. Milton possessed a strong, nasal voice that is extremely appealing while Milton had a warm, sensitive vocal that occasionally dips into a mellow falsetto. Aaron was an exceptional and versatile piano player as Chris Smith appraises: “Aaron’s playing features the steady chordal basses typical of St. Louis, and a very inventive right hand, endowed with melodic grace and propulsive energy. He was also a capable boogie player, with a singing line and a fondness for medium tempos.”

Their first recording date yielded four songs under the name Pinetop and Lindberg. This was an exceptional session as Milton sings wonderfully in his high, powerful nasal voice on the sing-sing “Louisiana Bound” with superb flourishes from Aaron who lays out with a nice mid-tempo solo as Milton encourages him on. The brothers excelled at thoughtful, mid-tempo blues such as “East Chicago Blues”, “4X11=44″ a reference to number combination for playing policy and “I Believe I’ll Make A Change.” Throughout Aaron lays down some mellow, highly inventive piano work, a perfect contrast to Milton’s almost wistful vocals with Milton encouraging “Pine” on with some engaging spoken patter. “East Chicago Blues” shares similarities to “Chicago’s Too Much For Me” which was cut at their second session and is also notable for making reference to a 1917 riot in East St. Louis where many African-Americans were killed, with a similar riot two years later in Chicago:

I was in Chicago I had my good rags on
I’m in this town, got all my new suits in pawn

East Chicago is on fire, East St. Louis is burnin’ down…

The following year the brothers were in Chicago where they cut three sides for Bluebird on August 2, 1933. At this session they cut the enduring “61 Highway” that would pass into common blues currency with it’s now familiar verse:

61 Highway, longest highway that I know (2x)
It runs from New York City down into the Gulf of Mexico

“Down On The Levee” was a typically sensitive mid-tempo number featuring Milton’s fine, mellow delivery and some wonderful right hand flourishes from Aaron. “Chicago’s Too Much For Me” was in a similar vein with with more forceful playing from Aaron with Milton probably sharing the sentiments of many who first visited Chicago:

Going back to St. Louis
Chicago’s too much for me
I may get in trouble, people don’t you see
In St. Louis I had my glad rags on
Now I’m in Chicago got all my glad rags in pawn

Aaron’s fine abilities as an accompanist extend to his backing a trio of St. Louis ladies. Elisabeth Washington was an appealing, slightly nasal singer with a good sense of delivery; “Riot Call Blues” and “Whiskey Blues” are particularly tough blues with the latter opening with the line “Everyday I have the blues” a song that the brothers would debut two years later. Tecumseh McDowell and Dorotha Trowbridge are solid, if unexceptional singers, who stylistically bear some resemblance to the then popular St. Louis singer Alice Moore.

The next year, August 24, 1934, Milton was in Chicago where he cut two songs for Decca as Flyin’ Lindburg. Milton recorded with Peetie Wheatstraw on piano, possibly Bill Lowry on violin and unknown clarinetist and guitarist. Milton’s powerful vocals easily rise above the small band behind “I.C. Train Blues” (a reference to the Illinois Central) which, while a bit rough and raucous, is nonetheless quite effective. “No Good Woman Blues” is a bit more sedate but equally entertaining.

Milton was absent from a four of the eight songs which comprised their final session on July 28, 1935 which featured guitarist Henry Townsend on seven of the eight numbers. Townsend explained: “Yeah Pinetop sang–Milton was supposed to be the singer of the two when the session was drewed up. Pinetop didn’t go there to sing at all–he went to play for his brother Milton. And when we got there, why, just going through measures like musicians carry on, he hummed off a tune or two. So everybody thought he should go ahead and do a number. So he went ahead and did a number. It turned out that his number was the better number after all.” Aaron possessed a warm, mellow vocal heard to good effect on the marvelous, melodic “Tell Her About Me”, the wistful “Workhouse Blues” and the driving boogie of “Got The Blues About My Baby.” The most famous song was “Every Day I Have The Blues” sung in a wonderful high falsetto that may sound surprising to those more familiar with modern versions. Milton’s numbers were not up to his usual standards although “Grinder Blues” contains a frank tribute to his wife Janie’s charms:

Don’t you know I got a little grinder.
She lives in St. Louis, her number is 2721 Stoddard Street.
That little woman grind me to death, boy.
I’m telling you the truth. I don’t love nobody but that little woman–her name is Janie.
Hey man I feel a verse coming down

Blues I ain’t gonna sing these blues no more (2x)
I got my mind on Janie, mean I swear I got to go

In the 1950’s Milton rejoined the church and renounced the blues. He died in 1963. Aaron reportedly died much earlier although no death certificate has been found. There is a hint of an early death in both Cleveland Sparks’ and Townsend’s recollections.

Louisiana Bound (MP3)

Down On The Levee (MP3)

Tell Her About Me (MP3)

Everyday I Have The Blues (MP3)

Sources:

-Russell , Tony and Smith, Chris. The Penguin Guide To The Blues. Penguin Books, London, England, 2006.

-Dixon, Robert M.W., John Godrich, Howard W. Rye. Blues & Gospel Records 1890-1943. 4th edition. Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1997.

-Rowe, Mike and O’Brien, Charlie. Well Them Two Sparks Brothers They Been Here And Gone. Blues Unlimited no. 144 (Spring 1983): 9-14.

-Oliver, Paul. Blues Fell This Morning. Cambridge University Press, New York, 1960.

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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.

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