I know how much people like timelines….

Roots Music

Since our blues timeline was so popular, here is a follow up for a timeline based on American Roots Music.  Naturally, this timeline does not have everything listed.  Similar to the blues timeline, it simply provides a starting point into the timeline of American Roots Music.

If you would like to see updates, comment on this post, and I will add them to the timeline.

Enjoy!

American Roots Music Timeline

1871 The Fisk Jubilee Singers begin touring America performing their spirituals for white audiences.

1890 Jessie Walter Fewkes records the Passamaquoddy Indians off the coast of Maine. This is the first field use of the newly-invented recording machine.

1902 The era of the flat disc recording begins when the Columbia and Victor companies arrive at 7-inch and 10-inch formats for the newly-designed records.

1904 The St. Louis World’s Fair, the largest of its kind to date, features “human dioramas” introducing the music of Africa, the Phillippines and Native American cultures to a mass audience.

1910 Song archivist John Lomax publishes his first book, Cowboy Songs and Frontier Ballads, consisting of songs he gathered traveling through Texas, including “Home on the Range.”

1920 Mamie Smith and her Jazz Hounds record “Crazy Blues” for Okeh, the first blues recording by a black singer, triggering an enormous popular demand for blues recordings and “race” records.

1925 Nashville fiddler Uncle Jimmy Thompson performs a collection of his favorite songs on Nashville radio station WSM. Two years later George D. Hay renames the show “The Grand Old Opry.”

1925 Blind Lemon Jefferson—one of country blues’ big three, along with Charley Patton and Son House—begins his recording career with Paramount Records.

1927 Victor Records’ Ralph Peer goes to Bristol, Tennessee and records 19 proto-country music artists in two weeks, discovering Jimmie Rodgers and The Carter Family.

1928 The first Cajun recordings are made by accordionists Joe Falcon (in the Acadian style) and Armede Ardoin (in the black French Creole style); the latter is eventually known as zydeco.

1930 Georgia Tom Dorsey, a popular bluesman of the 1920s, scores his first non-secular hit with “If You See My Savior, Tell Him You Saw Me” and is henceforth known as Thomas A. Dorsey, the Father of Gospel.

1933 John Lomax and his son Alan travel 16,000 miles in four months, recording country, blues and work songs, mainly in southern penitentiaries. They meet Lead Belly shortly before his release from prison.

1934 Lydia Mendoza, part of the popular Familia Mendoza group, records as a solo artist and “Mal Hombre” becomes a major Hispanic-American hit, establishing her as the first star of tejano music.

1934 The Golden Gate Quartet revolutionize gospel music with their elaborate, percussive jubilee-style vocals.

1934-36 Woody Guthrie hobos from Oklahoma to California and back across the country, singing the plight of Great Depression farmers and becoming known as The Dust Bowl Balladeer.

1935 Gene Autry, America’s favorite Singing Cowboy, stars in the Republic Pictures film Tumbling Tumbleweeds, creating the musical western genre and establishing the cowboy song as a popular music style.

1935 Bob Wills first records with the Texas Playboys, combining country music with jazz-inspired arrangements to usher in the western swing era. The band uses fiddles, electric guitar, drums and horns.

1936 Delta blues giant Robert Johnson’s first recording sessions take place in San Antonio for Vocalion, yielding such seminal tracks as “Cross Road Blues,” “Terraplane Blues” and “Kind Hearted Woman Blues.”

1938 John Hammond puts together a history of American roots music entitled “From Spirituals to Swing,” the first time an all-black show is presented at Carnegie Hall.

1941 Sonny Boy Williamson and Robert Lockwood Jr. help launch the “King Biscuit Time” show on KFFA in Arkansas.

1943 Muddy Waters joins the black migration from the Mississippi Delta to Chicago, amplifying his country blues roots to help create Chicago blues.

1946 The banjo hits it big when Bill Monroe adds banjo player Earl Scruggs and guitarist Lester Flatt to his band, creating the bluegrass sound.

1947 Mahalia Jackson brings gospel music to its commercial highpoint, recording “Move On Up a Little Higher” for the independent Apollo label. A million seller, it establishes gospel music in the mainstream music marketplace.

1948 The vinyl record, or LP, is introduced, allowing artists to record lengthier compositions.

1949 Honky-tonk country artist Hank Williams debuts at the Grand Ole Opry, performing “Lovesick Blues.”

1949 Local blues sensation Riley King hosts and plays the “Pepticon Boy” show on WDIA radio in Memphis; he goes on to DJ as the “Beale Street Blues Boy,” later shortened to his nickname “B.B.” King.

1950 The Weavers score a Number One hit with a version of Lead Belly’s “Goodnight Irene,” creating a new sound that anticipates the folk revival.

1952 Kitty Wells records “It Wasn’t God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels” in Nashville, opening the door to women in modern country music.

1952 Folkways Records releases the 6-volume Anthology of American Folk Music, compiled by Harry Smith, which becomes a bible for folk music revivalists.

1954 The first recordings by accordionist Clifton Chenier establish zydeco as a popular hybrid genre.

1954 Sam Phillips signs and records Elvis Presley. Their first single, “That’s All Right Mama,” a blues song written by Arthur “Big Boy” Crudup; the b-side is Bill Monroe’s bluegrass track, “Blue Moon of Kentucky”.

1959 The Newport Folk Festival is organized by George Wein, Alan Lomax, Pete Seeger and others. The festival becomes a major vehicle for introducing American folk musicians to broader audiences.

1961 Columbia Records releases the Robert Johnson King of the Delta Blues Singers retrospective.

1963 Spiritual music, in particular the anthem “We Shall Overcome,” becomes a driving musical force of the Civil Rights, and later, the anti-war movements.

1965 Backed by members of the Paul Butterfield Blues Band, folk hero Bob Dylan plugs in and plays electric music at the Newport Folk Festival.

1968 Gospel superstar Mahalia Jackson sings “Precious Lord, Take My Hand” at Martin Luther King Jr.’s funeral.

1969 The New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival becomes one of the most important roots music showcases in the world.

1974 The Council of the Development of French in Louisiana (CODOFIL) sponsors the first Festivals Acadiens at Blackham Coliseum in Lafayette, promoting Cajun music.

1981 Ricky Skaggs releases Waitin’ for the Sun to Shine, catalyzing the 1980s neo-traditional country movement.

1983 The compact disc is released as a new medium for digital audio, creating an unprecedented boom in extensive reissue packages.

1989 Legendary accordionist Flaco Jiminez forms the Texas Tornados with Freddy Fender and former Sir Douglas Quintet members Doug Sahm and Augie Meyers.

1990 The Complete Robert Johnson, a Columbia/Legacy 2-disc set collecting all of the Delta bluesman’s known recordings, becomes a surprise hit and creates a boom for roots reissues.

1998 The No Depression movement reaches its apotheosis in Mermaid Avenue, an alt-country collaboration between Billy Bragg and Wilco matching new music to Woody Guthrie lyrics.

2001 Gathering of Nations Pow Wow, a compilation of songs by various Native American drum groups, wins the first Grammy Award for Best Native American Album.

Census Records Shed Light on Charley (Charlie) Patton

Charlie Patton

Recently, a reader of this site by the name of Jeff Giambrone came across some interesting information, and passed it along to me.

To my knowledge, this information has not been published before.

Census Records have been discovered for Charley Patton (spelled Charlie) in the 1900 Census Records for Hinds County.  They show Charlie living with his parents and siblings.

These documents also provide more insight into his actual birthdate, which has been a mystery for years, as well as a possible connection to his birthplace.

Read more below to see images of the actual records, and see why this information is so important.

First, let’s go ahead and post these so they can be seen.  You can click on them for a larger size.

The enumeration was completed by LM Jackson on June 16th, 1900.

So as you can see, on about line 5 of the second image is the information on Charley.  This clarifies a few things.

For one, we know the spelling of his name to be Charlie, not Charley.  This fits with the story that Charlie himself spelled it this way, even though others spelled it with a “y”.  This is good information, as this document helps to solidify the fact that his name was spelled properly.

Secondly, and possible the most important, we see that Charlie was born on April in 1891.  This information could rewrite history, as Patton’s age on his death certificate lists him as 44, and having died in 1934.  This would give him a birthdate of 1890.  This is younger than even his sister’s reported.  However, this new document lists him as being born in 1891, which would actually make him 43 at the time of his death.  Being that the dates are so close, and the death certificate information was provided by a witness, and the above document information was provided by family, it is safe to assume this is the correct birthdate.  For this reason alone, this document is a major find.

Being that this shows that Patton lived in Hinds County, the pace of his birth until at least June of 1900, it also proves that Charlie moved to the Delta AFTER the delta style of blues and guitar was already formed.  This is also very important, as it sheds light on the fact that Charlie did indeed have to learn the style, and did not create it.  This is an important discovery, as it puts Charlie further away form the creation of the delta style than once believed.

You can also see on the document Charlie’s parents and siblings listed, which proves the document is for the correct Patton Family.  It lists Charlie’s dad Bill as a farmer, which gels with previous research.  It also shows that Bill – and most likely his family, had been in the home for 7 years, and that Bill himself had no education.  It also shows the family was renting the home.  It also looks like two of Patton’s sisters were in school at the time of the enumeration, though Charlie was not listed as being in school.  The document also shows that the whole Patton family is from a lineage born in Mississippi.

This is an important discovery in the world of blues, as documents often are.   It helps to solidify Patton’s birthdate, which before this document, was not known.  It also proves he lived in Hinds County at least through June of 1900, verifying that he moved to the Delta after the style was created.

Congratulations go out to Jeff Giambrone, for a wonderful find.  Keep it up!

]]> http://thedeltablues.wordpress.com/2009/10/12/charley-patton-census-records/feed/ 0 thedeltablues Charley Patton Picture 8 Picture 7 http://thedeltablues.wordpress.com/2009/10/09/new-robert-johnson-census-records/ http://thedeltablues.wordpress.com/2009/10/09/new-robert-johnson-census-records/#comments Fri, 09 Oct 2009 12:00:54 +0000 thedeltablues http://thedeltablues.wordpress.com/?p=578 ]]>

Records are Found That Rewrite History

Robert Johnson

Well, Steve LaVere has done it again.

Although he has done a lot, Steve is most notably credited with discovering what is believed to be the true final resting place of Robert Johnson.  Now he has done it again – in issue #203 of Living Blues Magazine.

In the article, Steve reveals that he has found more never before seen documentation on Robert Johnson.  These come in the form of census records, discovered in an unusual area.  Seeing Johnson in both the 1920 and 1930 census records is very eye opening, especially to a Johnson scholar.

The information haunting, chilling, and most notably, sheds more light on the man that was Robert Johnson.

Researchers that have looked into Johnson’s life have had some trouble with documentation.  From previous documentation gathered on Johnson, mostly from his marriage records and other such items, it appears he may have born before the 1910 Census.  However he was never found in any of the 1910 Census records, regardless of the variety of names that were searched under.  Also, Johnson’s half sister Carrie always stated that Robert’s mother said he was born May 8, 1911.   Since there is no other documentation or witnesses to debunk this information, it is generally accepted as accurate information.

We all know the brief history of good old Robert.  About being born out of wedlock, and living with his half sister’s father in Memphis for a short while, before moving back in with his mother and her new husband, Willie “Dusty” Willis.

Well, Steve’s discovery – the 1920 Census Records – show the future bluesman at the ripe age of 7, living under the name of Robert Spencer, with his mother and Mr. Willis in Lucas Township, Crittenden County, Arkansas.  The family was enumerated on January 23, 1920  by a W.P. McConnell.  Willis’s occupation is listed as “croper” – meaning share cropper.  Why is this important?

It is the earliest known documentary evidence of Robert Johnson.

This is also new information, because it was never known that Robert had spent any part of his childhood in Arkansas (we know he did as an adult).  This could explain how RObert was so familiar with the area years later.  Also important is the discovery of Robert’s age on this document.  If he was indeed 7 at the time of his last birthday in May of 1919, that would mean he was born in 1912 – not 1911.  But we do know, for a fact, that this is not true – if Robert had been born in 1912, he would have a birth record on file, as Mississippi started registering all births in 1912.  What does this mean? That despite this new find, we still cannot verify with any certainty Robert’s birthdate.

It was between 1920 and 1930 that Robert lived on or near the Abbay-Leatherman Plantation near Robinsonville.  This is the time he met and married Virginia Travis.  This is why Steve’s other discovery – the 1930 Census Records, fills in a huge gap in Johnson’s life.

We know he was married on February 17, 1929 in Penton, MS.  His wife Virginia would later die in childbirth on April 10, 1930 in Clack, MS.  Her death certificate was the only thing documenting Robert’s life during this time – until this record was found.

Evidence suggests that from childhood until he was married, he stayed close to home.  But the 1930 Census Records show us that between April of 1930 and March of 1931, Robert relocated to the Hazlehurst area – some 200 miles away.  Steve found this record by cross referencing Robert and Virginia Johnson, living in the same household.  Robert and Virginia actually lived with his other half sister Bessie and her husband Granville Hines.    Apparently, Robert and Virginia once lived in the area previously known as New Africa.

The community of New Africa no longer exists, but you can still find New Africa Road running due south out of Clarksdale.  The 1930 Census Record shows that Robert and Virginia were enumerated on April 11, 1930 in the township of New Africa.  Their ages are listed as 18 and 15, and their occupations:  ”Farmer” for Robert, and “Laborer” for Virginia.  They are both listed as being able to read and write.  According to this record, Robert’s age does match his birthdate of May 8, 1911.

So wait – if Virginia died on April 10th, and the enumeration took place on April 11th, how is she on there?  Wasn’t she dead?  Well, yes.

This sheds new light on the old story of Johnson’s wife and child.  Previous reports stated that Virginia’s parents, (Virginia died in childbirth at her parent’s home) were outraged at the fact that Robert was off playing music somewhere, and not there with his wife.  Now we know this may not have been the case.   If Johnson was indeed a “Farmer” as reported on the Census Records, it is more likely he could not leave his employment to be present for the birth of his child – which would later turn out to be the death of his wife and child.  When the enumerator (one Mathile J. Minor) arrived at Robert’s house, Robert – or whomever was there to give the information over to the enumerator – was unaware that Virginia had died, and therefore, she was listed as still alive.

It would seem Robert wasn’t with his wife during the death of her and the child not because he was off playing music, but becuase he was working on a farm in an effort to provide for them both.  The fact Robert wasn’t there for the deaths might explain why he was so against farm work and labor for the rest of his life, and why he turned to a lifetime of music, rambling, drinking, and blues.

Steve LaVere should get all credit for this new information.  It was published first in Living Blues magazine in issue #203.

We cannot post pictures of the Census Records – yet – until we obtain our own copies through the proper channels.  But we can assure you, there is not that much to see.

Blind Willie McTell

Old Blind Willie Could Play Them Blues

Though he wasn’t from the Delta, per se, he could play those country blues. “Blind Willie” McTell was one of the great blues musicians of the 1920s and 1930s. Displaying an extraordinary range on the twelve-string guitar, this Atlanta-based musician recorded more than 120 titles during fourteen recording sessions. His voice was soft and expressive, and his musical tastes were influenced by southern blues, ragtime, gospel, hillbilly, and popular music.

At a time when most blues musicians were poorly educated and rarely traveled, McTell was an exception. He could read and write music in Braille. He traveled often from Atlanta to New York City, frequently alone. As a person faced with a physical disability and social inequities, he expressed in his music a strong confidence in dealing with the everyday world.

McTell was born in Thomson on May 5, 1898. Few facts are known about his early life. Even his name is uncertain: his family name was either McTear or McTier, and his first name may have been Willie, Samuel, or Eddie. His tombstone reads “Eddie McTier.” He was blind either from birth or from early childhood, and he attended schools for the blind in Georgia, New York, and Michigan.

While in his early teens, McTell learned to play the guitar from his mother, relatives, and neighbors in Statesboro, where his family had moved. In his teenage years, after his mother’s death, he left home and toured in carnivals and medicine shows. In the 1920s and 1930s, McTell traveled a circuit between Atlanta, Augusta, Savannah, and Macon. This region encompasses two major blues styles: Eastern Seaboard/Piedmont, with lighter, bouncier rhythms and a ragtime influence; and Deep South, with its greater emphasis on intense rhythms and short, repeated music phrases.

McTell also journeyed from Georgia to New York City. Along the way he entertained wherever he could find an audience: passenger train cars, hotel lobbies, college fraternity parties, school assemblies, proms, vaudeville theaters, and churches. As he followed the tobacco market from Georgia into North Carolina, he played for farmers, buyers, and merchants at warehouses, auctions, livery stables, and hotels.

By the mid-1920s McTell was already an accomplished musician in Atlanta, playing at house parties and fish fries. He had also traded in the standard six-string acoustic guitar for a twelve-string guitar, which was popular among Atlanta musicians because of the extra volume it provided for playing on city streets.

By 1926 record companies had begun to take an interest in recording folk blues artists, mostly men playing solo with guitars.

Blind Willie Recording Session

Like other musicians at the time, he recorded on different labels under various nicknames to skirt contractual agreements. Thus he was Blind Willie for Vocalion, Georgia Bill for OKeh, Red Hot Willie Glaze for Bluebird, Blind Sammie for Columbia, Barrel House Sammy for Atlantic, and Pig ‘n’ Whistle Red for Regal Records. The latter name came from a popular drive-in barbecue restaurant in Atlanta where he played for tips.

In the early 1930s McTell frequently played with Blind Lemon Jefferson throughout the South. He married Ruth Kate Williams, with whom he recorded some duets, in 1934.

In 1940 folk-song collector John Lomax recorded the versatile musician for the Archive of Folk Culture of the Library of Congress. These sessions, which have been issued in full, feature interviews as well as a variety of music.

McTell was the only bluesman to remain active in Atlanta until well afterWorld War II (1941-45). With his longtime associate Curley Weaver, he played for tips on Atlanta’s Decatur Street, a popular hangout for local blues musicians. His last recording was made in 1956 for an Atlanta record-store owner and released on the Prestige/Bluesville label. Afterward he played exclusively religious music. From 1957 to his death he was active as a preacher at Mt. Zion Baptist Church in Atlanta. He died from a cerebral hemorrhage on August 19, 1959, at the Milledgeville State Hospital

RIP, ol’ Willie.

McTell's Grave

Portions of this article were taken from The New Georgia Encyclopedia.

Robert Curtis Smith, also recorded as RC Smith, is the Real Deal

Robert Curtis Smith

You can download the album(free) by following this link.

A classis story of a blues artist, Robert Curtis Smith – or “RC” as he was affectionately known – was the real deal.  Born in 1930 in Mississippi, Smith supported his family with hard labor and hunting rabbits.

He was heavily influenced by Big Bill Broonzy, as was discovered by chance in a barber shop.  Later, during the blues explosion of the sixties, he was re-recorded in 1962, but he failed to capture the ears of the predominantly whiter audience of the blues.

by 1969, Smith would give up the blues all together, and reunite with the church.  Little more is known of him – but if he’s alive, he would be 79 years old, and live either outside Clarksdale or in the Yazoo area.

Below is most of the back of the album cover transcribed as provided by Swan Fungis.  You can also click the image to read the entire thing.  The notes were compiled by Mack McCormick.

Enjoy!

Back of Album - Click to Enlarge

“Robert Curtis Smith is a hard working farm laborer in upper Mississippi. He supports a wife and eight children by driving a tractor ($3 a day top) during the farming season, by hunting rabbits in the winter. He has a borrowed guitar with which he sings of women he has loved, lost, discarded, or found worthy of erotic praise.

Unlike most of the young men of his generation, he reflects the softer style — if not always the songs — of the older blues. It is a style that bends the voice to the subtle punch of rhythmic shading of the round-hole acoustical box, and a tradition that stands in a 1:1 relationship with the facts of country life, though not revealing those facts so much as assuming they are common experience between the singer and his audience. The songs are mostly women blues but they leave the listener aware of broader discontent.

Smith is a dismally underprivileged working man who was born, raised and helplessly lives yet in the Yazoo basin country of Mississippi. Only 31 years old at the time this album was recorded, Smith’s musical growth was somewhat apart from the era of the great Delta bluesmen which produced such intense personalities as Charlie Patton, Tommy McClennan, Muddy Waters, and Robert Johnson. By the time Smith began playing in 1948, the first great blast of the electric guitar was being heard in the rhythm-and-blues boom. THe older Mississippi players had died, one off, or stopped playing to seek grace with the Baptist Church. Most of the younger men were clustered around 40-watt amplifiers on Chicago’s South Side.

But from a brother-in-law who taught him fundamentals, and from a few players who were still around, Smith absorbed such key pieces as Catfish Blues and I’m Going Away. Where personal contact left off, a cache of phonograph records brought him songs, including See My Chauffeurhe derives from Memphis Minnie’s famous record. Though his personal inventiveness and grasp of life is strongly felt, Smith is not one of the individualistic giants. Rather he exemplifies the broad traditional base from which they spring, and which takes its substance from the countless singers who both borrow and contribute, unreflectively seeking personal pleasure in a music which is essentially a community pastime.

While his contemporaries have switched to the amplified guitar, the cost of such devices places them beyond SMith’s means. His annual earnings range far below Mississippi’s incredibly low per capita income of $1173per year. He is frankly proud that only one of his children have died, and it is with something akin to genius that he manages to support his family with the conditions that prevail. The status quo in his world is to sap the strength and exploit the weakness of Negroes. It is a far more vicious crime than the occasional lynching since the end result is the massive weakening of a strong people. Ideas of inferiority are fed to him hand-in-hand with conditions that patently are inferior. Badly deprived of constitutional prvilege and the minimum wage, and lacking the know-how to correct his situation, Smith’s way of life is astonishingly out of step with modern times. Ironically, just as few Americans really grasp the way in which such a struggle is conducted. Smith’s telling of it is laced with giggles of disbelief at those who are surprised at the status quo in the Yazoo basin.

With asort of suicidal fervor this stronghold of the Old South clutches its ancient tradition of bondage to the worn soil. Over half Mississippi’s people still earn their living from the land. A few earn it very well with Federal price supports bucking up the farm economy. But most earn it so poorly that tools such as Lynch Law are still needed to quell their discontent. Mississippi claims four of the five lynchings that occurred within the past decade. Two of these, the community murders of Emmett Till, an arrogant 14-year year boy, and George W. Lee, a 51-year old prospective voter, occured only a few miles from SMith’s home. WIth such demonstrations occurring from time to time, in Mississippi employer-employee relationships take on a special tone.

Commenting on one aspect of this in Blues Fell This Morning, Paul Oliver writes, ‘A local plantation owner who requires temporary labour goes bail for the prisoners in the jail who are then indebted to him for this sum and must pay it in their labour at a rate fixed by himself. Many Negroes in Mississippi where this has been especially prevalent have found themselves unwittingly forced into crop-lein slavery.”

Not only may the country jail be used as a hiring hall but as in the case of a land owner named Roy FLowers who Smith describes as ‘rich man, but he don’t pay nothing,’ it may also be used to settle disputes. ‘He don’t argue with you. He’s got other arrangements for that. Anytime anything goes wrong he dislike, why he’ll go and have you picked up and held for so long — Till you decide that you’ll try, then he’ll get you out.’ Flowers’ property south of Clarksdale includes a magnificent home whose balconies are fringed with wrought iron, and a manicured plot of ground in which a giant white marble tomb already marked ‘Flowers’ stands as a premature monument to himself. Flowers’ waiting tomb is a constant source of humor and anticipation to those who live along the Sunflower River.

…Smith has tried twice to leave Mississippi. One attempt took him to Chicago and a brief confused time with relatives in an industrial town where jobs for the unskilled are scarce and waiting for them impossible while his family went without aid. Another effort took him to Texas on a rumor of work that turned out false. Sadly lacking in even such bare knowledge as how to seek jobs in an unfamiliar place, Smith returned to Mississippi, walking the last 80 miles of the way home, his strongest memory of Texas being the jack rabbits which had sustained him there.

A few years later a chance meeting with Chris Strachwitz of the Big 6 Barber Shop in Clarksdale led to this album and Smith’s voice and guitar being heard beyond his circle of neighbors. For those new listeners who can not by any stretch of the imagination put themselves in the position of having to feed eight children from Mississippi’s diminishing rabbit population, it is important to bear in mind Smith’s plight is only part of the story. There is sadness which the story teller wears as a mask that can never be peeled away, but behind that mask is the warm chuckle of a joyous spirit, a voice that sings not only Council Spur Blues but exuberantly shifts into I Feel So Good. Unlike many a more fortunate blues singer, there is little self-pity in this man even as he looks forward to next winter’s cold and hunger. There is instead a dogged will to find moments of good.

Notes by Mack McCormick

I was able to find the album – on vinyl – no longer for sale, on popsike.com for the going rate of $100 USD.

You can download the album(free) by following this link.

Everyone Knows the Hound!  Did you Know He is Responsible for Alligator Records?

Taylor had 6 fingers on both hands... at first

Hound Dog Taylor is one of the lesser known, but most influential bluesmen of his time.  Some say he was a pioneer of rock and roll, some say he was the first ever artist to shape modern punk.

The fact remains, however, that Hound Dog was a great musician, and an interesting character.  Below is a look at Hound Dog’s life through the eyes of eye witnesses, reports, and first hand accounts.

If you haven’t seen Hound Dog play live, you should check him out here before you read the story.  It will make for a more interesting read.

Hound Dog Taylor was born Theodore Roosevelt Taylor, n Natchez, Mississippi, on April 12 in 1915 (some sources say 1917), named after the US President. He was born with six fingers on each hand. Growing up in the Mississippi Delta, he had a roungh childhood. The story goes that when he was only 9 years old, his step father supposedly packed up all of his things in a brown paper bag, stood in the doorway with a shotgun, and told Hound Dog to “cut out”.   Eye witnesses and friends of Hound Dog both confirm and deny this story.  Either way, it is true that around the age of nine he left to go live with his sister.  This was about 1924.

Hound Dog Taylor

The first instrument Taylor learned to play was not the guitar, but piano, which he learned as a kid. He first picked up the guitar while in his teens, but didn’t play it seriously until around 20. At that time he started playing all over the Delta, playing both his native piano as well as the guitar. He also appeared a few times on the  King Biscuit Flour radio show of KFFA.

Another story about Hound Dog involves the Klu Klux Klan.  In 1942, Taylor, always the ladies man, was chased out of Mississippi one day by the Klan after having an affair with a white woman. He spent the first day hiding in drainage ditches and then the next day he headed for Chicago. He never went back. Although he continued to play his guitar semi-professionally at night, he spent the first 15 years in Chicago working several different non music jobs. In 1957 he was building TV cabinets when he decided to become a full-time bluesman.  Once he decided to go pro, he also changed his playing style. Where he once played standard and E tunings, he now was playing an increasingly more bottleneck style. This change came about by his being heavy influenced by the then emerging Elmore James.

Early on he garnered a huge local following with his wild live shows, most of the time he would be sitting on a folding chair, stomping both feet, throwing his head back in a frency, drinking Canadian Club and puffing on his cigarettes, urging the crowd to get up and dance, as he blared away on his guitar. If you review any of his videos on YouTube, including this one here, you can usually see that old folding chair, that cheap guitar, and hear those great sounds.  Taylor became one of Chicago’s most loved bluesmen and a local favorite on the South and West sides of town.

Hound Dog and the HouseRockers

It was around 1958 when Taylor would becoem known as “Hound Dog”. He was in a club one night chasing a couple of women around when a friend called him a hound dog because he was always on the hunt for woman. The name stuck. It was also around this time when one night, drunk out of his mind, Hound Dog took a straight razor and cut off the small extra finger on his right hand.  The extra finger on his left hand remained there until his death.

Hound Dog’s band, the HouseRockers, would come about slowly. In 1959 while playing in a West Side tavern, a guitarist named Brewer Phillips gigged with the Dog for the first time. The two became quick friends and Phillips would become the HouseRockers second guitarist.  of course, throughout the years, Taylor and Phillips would fight.

In 1960, Hound Dog cut his first single,”Baby Is Coming Home”/”Take Five”, for Bea & Baby. But outside of Chicago, the single went no where. In 1961, Freddie King became a star with the song “Hideaway”. A good portion of this song was copied from an instrumental King heard Taylor cranking out in a nightclub. Hound Dog never did receive composer’s credit for the song, but didn’t seemed to be bothered by it either, as King was only one of several bluesman who borrowed from him. In 1962, Hound Dog’s second single, “Christine”/”Alley Music” was released by Firma Records, and then in 1967 a third single for Checker, “Watch Out”/”Down Home” came out. But like his first single, these tunes went unnoticed.

In 1965 Ted Harvey joined the HouseRockers as their drummer, replacing Levi Warren. He and Hound Dog had first met in 1955 when Ted was backing Elmore James. At James’ funeral in ‘63 the two met again, which lead to Ted finally joining up. At this point (and from there on) there was only three HouseRockers. Hound Dog on the slide and vocals, Phillips (nobody ever called him by his first name) played the bass on his six string and on occasion would play the lead. With Ted on the drums, the three sounded like a much larger band. They were loud and the Dog could get distortion out of his guitar like no one else could, in part thanks to his cheap amps. But he also could get his guitar to cry unlike anyone else. He was truly a gifted slide player and was at his happiest when he played live with his band. The HouseRockers never rehearsed before any shows.

Hound Dog

They also were big drinkers and as a rule played only after a reasonable amount of alcohol was consumed. During any given show, Hound Dog would first drink a straight shot of whiskey, chasing it with a mixed drink. He then would down a whole glass of beer. All three drinks were drank rapidly, one after the other. After that he was ready to play! Hound Dog would start off a show usually saying something like “Hey, let’s have some fun!”, and did they ever! They would play all night, six and seven hour shows were normal – if the joint would stay open that late for them. By the late ’60s Hound Dog had a regular gig at Florence’s Lounge on the South Side of Chicago.

In 1969 things would start to change for the Dog. He would meet his future manager and the one man who believed in him, Bruce Iglauer. Iglauer met Taylor in a club called Eddie Shaw’s, where Hound Dog would join-in to jam with other bluesman. Yet Iglauer would not actually get to hear Hound Dog play with the HouseRockers until the next year when he moved to Chicago and finally dropped-in on one of their gigs. He was hooked on the HouseRockers instantly. Bruce tried to get his boss, Bob Koester of Delmark Records to sign Hound Dog, but failed. So what’s a poor boy to do? Well he had just received a small inheritance of $2500 and decided to record Hound Dog himself. With that Alligator Records was born. It was not Iglauer’s attempt to start a new label, it just turned out that way.

Recorded live in the studio in just two nights during the spring of 1971, Hound Dog’s debut album captured all of the energy of the band. Hound Dog used his $50 Japanese electric guitar and Sears Roebuck amplifiers with cracked speakers for the recording. For under $1000 the master tape was made and with the remainder of Iglauer’s inheritance 1000 copies were pressed. Within a year the album, titled Hound Dog Taylor and the HouseRockers, was the biggest selling blues record on an independent label, selling 9,000 copies. One song on the album, the Taylor penned “Give Me Back My Wig”, would in time become his best known song.

Hound Dog and the HouseRockers began touring the US around the album’s release and gained new fans. They then toured Australia and New Zealand. Yet nothing about Hound Dog’s show changed. He would still play the same songs the same way on the same old, cheap Japanese guitars. A bass player was never added as no one could keep up with him on a bass guitar.

Hound Dog’s second album, Natural Boogie was released in 1973 and was filled with more great slide guitar. All the songs for this second album were recorded and mixed at the same sessions back in ‘71 that produced the first album. Yet this new album had it’s own, somewhat different feel to it. Hound Dog himself liked this album better that his first. The album got more positive reviews, as did Hound Dog in general.

In early 1975 it was decided that a live album would be put together. Hound Dog was at the height of his success and was now starting to get better gigs, and his music continued to sell even more. But sometimes things just don’t go the route planned and it seemed from out of nowhere trouble was brewing. Although Hound Dog and Phillips were closest of friends, they had gotten into numerous fights throughout the years. One day in May ‘75 while Phillips was visiting Hound Dog along with Son Seals at the Hound’s apartment, a drunken fight broke out between Phillips and Hound Dog. It seemed Phillips said something insulting about Hound Dog’s wife Fredda, so Hound Dog left the room, and then returned with a .22 rifle. Aiming for the couch, he hit Phillips twice, once in the forearm and once in the leg. Seals then took the gun away from Hound Dog. Luckily, Phillips would recover and be ok, but Hound Dog would not. Phillips pressed charges and Hound Dog was supposed to be tried for attempted murder. But the Dog, a heavy smoker, was sick, very sick. He was dying of lung cancer. Instead of facing a trail he landed in the hospital. On his deathbed, his last wish was granted when Phillips visited him in the hospital and forgave him for the shooting. Hound Dog Taylor passed away the very next day, December 17, 1975.

“When I die, they’ll say ‘he couldn’t play shit, but he sure made it sound good!”…. Hound Dog made those comments more than once in his lifetime. He was truly an artist.

Another interesting note is that long time friend, George Thorogood, was a roadie and a student of Taylors.  You can hear Hound Dog in his music.

Hound Dog is buried in Restvale Cemetery in Alsip, Illinois.

Thanks to Keno for the majority of this article.

Blues History

Important Dates in the Blues

Often times I have people asking me about certain dates when it comes to the blues.  So I decided, after reading a book about Blues that contained a very intricate blues timeline, that I would share a basic blues timeline on this site for those that were unaware.

This particular timeline was first posted at Mojo Hand, an online Blues store.  I decided to re-post it for all those blues fans out there.

It may not have all the dates here, but it is definitely a great place to start.  Moving forward, I invite readers to comment on this post, and request dates be added.  I will add them as fast as I can…

Blues Timeline

Willie Brown Grave

M and O Blues - WIllie Brown

Willie Brown, perhaps one of the greatest bluesman, is buried in an unmarked grave in Prichard, MS.

In the near future, we will begin to raise money to erect a memorial headstone for Willie Brown, located in Good Shepherd Church Cemetery, his final resting place.

Born in Clarksdale, MS, Brown was not a self-promoting frontman.  Instead, he chose to play and support some of the greatest of all time.  This includes Charley Patton, Son House, Robert Johnson, and a whole lot more.

Though there was some confusion to his early identity, Brown played with Son House continually for years.  Actually, when Brown died, Son House put down his guitar and his music for over 12 years due to his death.

Read more to discover the location of his grave, directions how to get there, and a few known pictures of the location.

There is a lot of speculation around Willie Brown.  SImilar to Robert Johnson, he has a common name, and therefore it makes it harder to trace his history.  But we do know some important facts.

According to David Evans, a blues researcher, Willie Brown was married real young to Josie Mills.  He would remain in Clarksdale MS for only a short time – until he was bout 13 – then moved to Drew, MS.  Here he played guitar with and in the style of Patton, Howlin’ Wolf, Tommy Johnson, and others.  He would go on jamming out in Drew until 1929, when he moved to Robinsonville.

This part of Brown’s life is clear: Brown lived in Robinsonville in 1929.  He would move to Lake Cormorant, Mississippi in 1935. He performed occasionally with Charley Patton, and continually with Son House until his death. After this, House ceased performing until his “rediscovery” in 1964.

Brown would end up dying in Tunica, MS, in 1952.  Though he was reported to be 52 years old at the time, this conflicts slightly with the story that he was married in 1911.  Unless of course, he was married at age 11.  However, his death certificate lists him as dying of heart failure in his home.  Of course, by this time, he was a heavy drinker, and for a short stint was hospitalized in Memphis for his problems.

Good Shepherd Church (photo by Byron Brewster)

He was buried in the Good Shepherd Church graveyard in Prichard, MS.  His burial spot can be confirmed by Willie Moore, a close friend who met Brown as early as 1916.  In interviews, most notably with Gayle Dean Wardlow, Moore knew of both Brown’s hospitalization for the alcohol, as well as the burial of Willie Brown.

Moore even traveled with Brown, and would often sing while Brown played.  Moore also pokes more holes in David Evans research, saying that Brown said he never lived in Drew – just visited (by other researchers accounts, and eye witness testimony, there was another heavy set “Willie Brown” living and playing in Drew, but this was not the same Brown that played with Patton and House).  That he used to live in Cleveland, and later Shelby.   Brown and Moore were both drafted into the Army, but peace was declared right around the time they finished basic training – neither of them made the trip overseas.

Willie Brown Unmarked Grave (photo by Byron Brewster)

His grave is located just off of Highway 3 in Prichard, MS.  It is 8 miles south of Casino Strip Blvd (or Route 304).  if you head south from Casino Strip Blvd for about 8 miles, you can make a left onto Prichard Road.  Follow that around to the cemetery.  Willie Brown is located in an unmarked grave (We are working with local officials to determine which plot is Willie’s, so we can erect a headstone).

Click here to see it on Google Maps.

At any rate, Willie Brown was a true historic blues figure.  Though often in the background, his guitar playing was considered to be advanced, and articulate.  There is also speculation he recorded as Kid Bailey, but this cannot be proven.  If you are ever driving by Tunica, MS, stop by and pay your respects.

We know he recorded November 23, 1936.  Now we know the how.  But the where….

Robert Johnson

We all know that good old Robert Johnson had his first recording session that faithful day in November, 1936.  But still, a lot of speculation has recently emerged about that session.

Of course, there are the rumors of turning his back to the audience (the next group of musicians to record), and now there is speculation as to where this recording was actually done.

Read this article and see a diagram of Robert Johnson’s recording session, regardless of the place.  Read on to discover more information about this historical recording session.

Where exactly was he recorded?  What is corner loading?  How was the room set up?

Johnson recorded eight sides during his first session, including “I Believe I’ll Dust My Broom,” “Sweet Home Chicago,” and his biggest hit “Terraplane Blues,” a popular song on jukeboxes throughout the South. Despite having been Johnson’s first recording session, he demonstrated an intimate knowledge of the process. His arrangements were tight; his vocals clear, fitting well into the 78-RPM format (approximately 2 ½ minutes) with but few retakes necessary. Later that same night after the all-day sessions were concluded, Law received a phone call. It seemed that Johnson had managed to get himself into trouble and wound up in the Bexar County jail. Johnson, fresh from his stint in jail, would return to the Gunter on November 26 when he managed to record only one song, “32:20 Blues.” He would return the following day and record another seven sides, including the infamous “Crossroad Blues”.

For several years local historians erroneously reported the recordings took place at the Bluebonnet Hotel (which was demolished in the mid-1980s).  This was the home of KONO radio, and they had a recording studio on site. However local blues fans and others took steps to correct this mistake. Thanks to the San Antonio Blues Society and Robert Johnson Blues Society, a marker commemorating the Gunter Hotel as the site of Robert Johnson’s historic recording sessions was erected on November 23, 2001.

We know Johnson also faced the wall while recording.  However, this was not done due to shyness, or even trying to hide his arrangements from other musicians.  This was simply done to achieve a certain acoustic effect.  Known as “corner loading”, this technique will essentially eliminate most of the top and bottom of the guitar, while amplifying the middle – which is where most of the attack is in country blues.

Recording Setup

That brings us to the actual set up of the session.  Johnson recorded in room 414, and the engineers recording him were in the adjoining room, in room 413.  Looking at the diagram, you can see the exact placement of the microphone, where Robert sat to record, and more.  Notice that the engineer also thought it was best to have the table against the door to record – the cable to the mic ran under the door to his equipment.  Don Law was also in the room (413) during the recordings, and sometimes in room 414.

Most of the takes were done several times, as we all know.  This is because the first take is usually as the artist intended it, and the following takes are often done to include suggestions from the A & R guy – Don Law in this case.  Thus the reason for the multiple takes during the sessions.

I hope this info comes in handy….

Enjoy!

As Told by Terry Manning, Who Recorded Furry in His Home on 4th Street.

Furry Lewis

This is the story, as told by Terry Manning, of that faithful day in 1969 when he went to the home of Furry Lewis, and recorded him in his room, on his bed.

It is a great story, and definitely part of the blues revival.  In 1998 Terry decided to write of his experiences, and I do believe a book is either coming soon, or is already out.

Enjoy the recap of one of the blues recordings moments in history.

It was an almost spring day in the South. Almost warm enough for April, but the cool threat of February lurking on the edges. Nothing felt definite. There was a dulling layer of clouds, yet no sense that it would rain. No sense of emotion emanated from the many occupants of the other vehicles threading their way down Union Avenue that day… the faces visible through the streaked polarized safety glass at the stoplights belied merely a sense of extreme sameness, an almost boredom, one that seemed somehow satisfying to them.

March 5, 1969. Almost the Seventies. But still very much the Sixties. I was piloting a maroon Ford Fairlane through the capital of the Delta, Memphis, Tennessee, in search of the Blues Magician, Furry Lewis. In the back seat I had a Crown half-track stereo tape recorder, two Sony C-37 microphones, a Leica IIIf, three reels of Scotch 202 tape, eight years of recording experience, and a love for the blues. Riding right seat was my friend Jere Cunningham, writer and photographer. He had a Nikon in his lap, and some black and white film in a brown bag on the Fairlane’s front floor. The plan was simple: find Furry; I would record, Jere would photograph. Beyond that, there was nothing but whatever the future would hold.

I had known Walter “Furry” Lewis for four years already. Most everyone around Memphis music in those days did. He had been “rediscovered” in the early 60’s, sweeping the streets of Memphis with a push cart and a broom; the halcyon days of his successful recording career were long over, and the sometimes harsh realities of life had set in. Much has been written on these historical matters, so there’s no need to rehash them here, save to say that Furry had, indeed, begun his “comeback.” My first encounter with this very special gentleman happened when I showed up at a Memphis club, The Bitter Lemon, for my rock band’s engagement one night to find the “opening act,” an old, withered man with a Gibson guitar in his hands and a slide made of a piece of pipe on his finger, already holding an enthralled audience in the palms of those gnarled hands. He danced, twirled the guitar about, slapped the wooden body of his instrument for percussion, and generally thrashed his way through his set with the verve and tenacity of a teenager. I (and everybody else there) was amazed. For Furry Lewis was somehow able to cast a spell. There are stories about how his guitar could seem to play itself at times, or how other strange things might happen in his presence. He was somehow part musician, part magician, part clown, part philosopher. But he was above all else an entertainer. Some of his playing that night, as well as his singing, was suspect at times in the strictest sense of proficiency, given his age and the amounts of alcohol he consumed, but most of both were truly awesome. This little old man possessed the ability to weave a magic web over an audience, employing time tested entertainer’s techniques mixed with some sort of happy voodoo spell to force the entertained to transcend their normal lives. He sang blues, he sang gospel, he reverted at times to an almost vaudevillian type of ragtime pop music from his youth. But whatever he did, he certainly evoked a positive reaction from the packed coffee house. After he finished, I went up to him and introduced myself, telling him how much I enjoyed his performance. As I later found that he always was, he was even then most gracious. He gave me his slide (which I still have today), he politely answered my probably inane questions (“Did you know Robert Johnson…..Did you ever meet Blind Lemon Jefferson….?”), and he even stayed for our band’s performance, which he politely professed to like. I saw him perform many times after that, in clubs, at folk or blues festivals, or in his various places of residence. Furry came to be an icon, at once both a vibrant symbol of a revered music of old, and a living statue which those who feared that an era was ending were compelled to visit. When The Rolling Stones played Memphis, they requested Furry as their opening act; when Joni Mitchell played Memphis, she went to see Furry sing in his home, and was so touched she composed a poignant song about him. Countless other musicians paid their homage in one way or another, and he always happily played and sang, whether he was paid or not.

Fourth Street exhibited little of the modern “charm” of Union Avenue. It was too close to Beale Street. It almost was Beale Street. This was only a block or so from where the young Walter Lewis had hung out with the famous W.C.Handy, so many years ago, yearning for musical mentorship. This was only a block or so from where the vibrant Furry Lewis in his prime, along with Gus Cannon and others, had entertained so many in one of Beale Street’s heydays. And in fact, this was one of the very streets the middle aged W.Furry Lewis had swept with his broom and cart as a city sanitation employee, day after day, starting before daylight, ending often after sundown, trudging along on his one real leg and his one wooden one. Year after year after year. This was home. This was the corner of Fourth and Beale, and it was where Furry lived on March 5, 1969. The old apartment building which stood there was in pretty sad shape by then. Entering the dark, wooden entry way the senses were assaulted by dust, creaking floorboards, the smell of years of stale urine mixed with chicken frying and greens cooking. The clerk in the small snack stand next door had no nose, only two small holes in her face. Babies cried and old men cried out. Mothers quieted and wives scolded. The sounds of life quietly seeped from behind the aging walls. It took a while for the eyes to adjust to the low light, making our entry a hesitant one. Up the shaky stairs to the second floor; a knock at a door. As the door was opened, just a crack, a female voice enquired. It was us. And we were welcomed in, obvious intruders into a very different, special, and private world. But the woman whom Furry claimed was his wife was as gracious as he was. She presented cookies, and offered to go get drinks. Furry took her up on that. He wanted some quarts of beer to help him get over the remnants of the flu. He was there in bed, a large old creaking bed which dominated the room. In retrospect, I doubt the bed was as big as I thought; I think rather he was so dominant himself that it just seemed so. His leg was removed, and he was propped up on a couple of old pillows.

The sounds of the street filtered through the windows along with the diffused March, 1969 light. A fan whirred somewhere in an apartment nearby. The whispers of history’s ghosts settled across Beale Street for another day’s work. And Furry played and sang again.

It was just as if fine old friends of the family had dropped by; Furry and his companion seemed happy to have the company. I set up the recorder and microphones, and Furry took up one of his guitars and began, playing and singing while sitting up in his bed. Jere snapped pictures. (I’m not sure what happened to those shots, but it would be interesting to see them now. I stupidly didn’t take any photographs myself that day, busy with my sonic endeavour). The day wore on, the magic of the man permeating the dusky afternoon. He performed some of his standard repertoire, some things you didn’t hear that much, and I believe he made some up as he went along. He even invited me to play with him. Then he grew tired, and slightly drunk, and it was time to go. Back to the street, back to the car, back out Union Avenue, back to the rest of the world. But at least this special day can never evaporate completely, as most do, because that particular Furry Lewis moment was captured forever. The first installment of this day’s recordings was released in 1992 as “Fourth And Beale” on Lucky Seven LS9202. It had previously been released in Europe on Barclay Records vinyl in the ‘70’s, and has recently been reissued there on CD by Universal. This second installment has never before been released. While it may be argued by some that many of the better performances the already 76 year old Furry did that day were put onto the first record, this second installment nonetheless contains an incredible glimpse into this wizard-genius’s life. And these may very well be the last original recordings by Furry Lewis ever issued. Very little editing has been done, save to eclipse boredom. Much talking and tuning between takes has been left, on purpose, in an attempt to help portray the mood of the time. The blues medley “Fourth & Beale/F&T Rag” includes me playing a second guitar with Furry, and was left off of the first album so as not to seem to be encroaching upon his professional life. It is included here because it did indeed happen, however brash of me at the time to intrude upon Mr. Lewis’ artistic sensibilities. I apologise to musical history for that. In addition to his normal blues numbers, as well as a foray into early twentieth century pop music, the two gospel songs included were not often heard by most listeners. But Furry just seemed to feel them that day. “God Be With Us ‘Til We Meet Again” I think has one of the most understated, yet powerful vocal performances I have ever heard, and certainly makes a fitting “final” Furry Lewis number. Furry touched many hearts in his time. He was a gentle, loving soul who exhibited a vibrancy anyone would envy. He had two music careers, separated by a long spell of “working for a living.” He is a genuine part of the history of blues music. He is enshrined in at least one Hollywood movie, W.W. and The Dixie Dance Kings. His life is chronicled in several important books of blues lore. His work exists on several albums still selling well.

He unfortunately grew more tired and more old, and he eventually died. Most knew it would happen someday. Others weren’t so sure.

Terry Manning, 1998

(story copyright 1998, Lucky Seven Records)

Listen to Furry jam out on “When I Lay my Burden Down.”

For the record, Furry also has two headstones upon his grave; the second one purchased for him by his fans.