Slide guitar maestro, Bryn Haworth, tells his remarkable story

Bryn Haworth is an outstanding slide guitarist and songwriter from the UK who has been making records and performing for the past 50 years. He’s appeared on the BBC’s Old Grey Whistle Test and the John Peel show, was a major figure in the explosion of Jesus Rock in the 1970s and ’80s, and been the guest guitarist on many albums by rock and folk artists.

During the 1970s I nearly wore out my turntable needle playing his Sunny Side of the Street and Grand Arrival albums, and to my delight, I recently discovered a 2006 album called Keep the Faith, which I’ve been playing almost non-stop.

So, it was a particular pleasure to chat to Bryn about the blues, his remarkable journey into faith when he was a successful musician in California in the ‘70s, the important work he’s been doing in prisons over many years and how we need to care for the environment.

I asked him first of all how he would describe the sort of music he makes.

Bryn Well the word I’d use is eclectic really. Because it’s because I was brought up in a house back in the ’50s where all kind of music was played and loved. My mum was the one who bought the records, these old 78 records, and she would buy Elvis, Elgar, Little Richard. She’d buy the Kingston Trio. And it was a big thing when we got a gramophone in the front room. It would be a big deal when you bought a new record, you’d sit down and play it and you’d have your fish and chips and stuff in the room, listening to these records and appreciating them and just enjoying them. So, for me all styles of music are good and to be enjoyed, and I just carried on like that in my writing and playing. So…eclectic, I like all kinds of music. It may not be commercial but I enjoy the freedom!

Gary But a lot of your music has always sounded a bit bluesy to me and you’ve got that lovely slide guitar work. So tell me how you feel about blues music.

Bryn Blues music to me is honest music. It’s people expressing their sorrow, their pain, their loneliness, their disconnectedness, their questions or anger about things we all feel. So you know for me it’s natural to express these things. It’s honest…honest to God music, really. I mean life is hard isn’t it? You know we’ve all been hurt, we’ve all been damaged, or we all hurt others knowingly or unknowingly. And there’s just this whole thing of, you know, unanswered questions – in our hearts this feeling – Where do I belong? Where’s home?  And that’s all in the DNA of every one of us. And so, it’s great when music is expressed like that in a simple fashion. So that’s how I feel about blues.

And then look at how many musicians there are in the Bible, like Jeremiah and Habakkuk and David and Job, and you start to see the blues in what they’re saying. There’s so much blues in there. You know in Job 30. 31, it says “my harp is tuned to mourning, my flute to the sound of wailing.” The Message translation says “my fiddle plays nothing but the blues and my mouth harp is wailing.” Job was a musician. And then you got David – “Why is this happening? How long? Where are you God? You know, just real people interacting with a real God, real full on honest to God stuff. Psalm 69 – I love that one: “I’m up to my neck in trouble.” And then Psalm 88 – the last verse “darkness is my closest friend.” And that’s the end of the song.

Gary Although it’s quite interesting, Bryn, when you look at a lot of the Psalms, they’re quite like some of the blue songs, in that they start off really, really dark. You know “Why have you forsaken me” and then by the end of the song, the Psalmist has sort of worked himself through the blues and he’s in a better place. And actually a lot of the blues songs are a bit like that – I think of that old standard Trouble in Mind – I’m gonna lay down my head on some railroad iron and then by the end of the song, it’s you know, the sun’s gonna shine on my back yard some day. Things are gonna get better and there’s a kind of a parallel to the way some of the Psalms work.

Bryn Yeah, yeah, There’s one song of mine from the Rebel Man album called Why Don’t You Love Me Like You Used to Do, and it’s really just reading the Prophets where God says, why don’t you love me like you used to, and now you’ve gone off and stuff like that. So that’s a classic blues theme, isn’t it? The reality is that God feels the pain of rejection. God grieves and feels pain – Genesis 6 says the Lord was grieved that he’d made man and his heart was filled with pain, and then you see Jesus, he was rejected and despised. I mean, blues? Is that not blues?

Gary Absolutely right. It’s right there.

And looking back, who are the artists that have influenced you, that have meant something to you along the way, blues or otherwise?

Bryn Well in the blues I like the Johnsons – Robert Johnson and Blind Willie Johnson. I like Elmore James because of the slide. I’m always fascinated by how these guys play. It’s just stunning. And I like the finger-pickers, I like Mississippi John Hurt – I hear a lot of Mississippi John Hurt in Eric Bibb. I just love listening to John Hurt you know, because his spirit is really gentle. He’s not aggressive.

And I also like harmonica players. Little Walter. Because harmonica players like Little Walter are great to copy for slide players. You know, if you’re a slide player and you want to play blues, then you get a lot of your basic blues shapes and patterns from listening to, and trying to emulate and copy, good blues harmonica players. They work within a tight range of notes.  So, I’ve always been attracted to them and my ear pricks up to play like that.

And it’s the same with sax players. There are some really good players like King Curtis, black R&B sax player, who played on a lot of the old Arista Records. Like Respect and a lot of the old Motown stuff. And then there’s Junior Walker and the Allstars. If you’re a slide player, they’re great players to just try and copy because they come at it from a different point of view than your Ry Cooders and your Duane Allmans and people like that. You’re really into a different thing and it’s really interesting to learn from them. And there’s a guy called Darrell Mansfield that I really like, a Californian harmonica player. We toured together in Europe quite a bit. I liked him and of course Paul Jones is a great harmonica player.

The main influence I think when I first started playing electric guitar was when I got Soul Dressing by Booker T and the MGs.  And I just thought Steve Cropper was the bee’s knees! I thought he was incredible and I learned every solo of his on that album. I just wanted that sound you know. I didn’t really know what he was playing, but in the 60s I thought I’d like to be a psychedelic version of Steve Cropper! But then you see you had Eric Clapton and then you got Hendrix, and I love George Harrison. Willie Nelson, I love. I love his guitar playing, I love Lonnie Mack’s playing. I do like guitar players and I like the ones that are brave.

Gary So looking back over your career, Bryn, you have been described as a pioneer of Jesus music and you were part of the explosion of Christian music in the 70s and 80s. And your Christian faith has continued to be a major emphasis in your work over the years. How do you do you see your music: as Christian music, or do you see it as having a wider appeal?

Bryn Well, you know, I’ve never really gone for a label because first of all I’m a musician. I see myself as a musician who has discovered that there is a God and that he loves me. And I found that great news. And it’s that because I’ve found this for myself, I found a new way of living and a new way of loving and being loved. And Jesus has made all this possible. So yes, I want to communicate this – by the way that I live, and also my work and in writing and communicating. I mean, the thing is, that everybody wants to communicate. And everybody is communicating something. And when you find life like this you just get energized by it and you get captivated by it, and you want to let other people know that He’s real and that His love for them is tangible.

And some of the music and the songs I play like this resonate with a wider audience and that’s just fantastic. But not all my songs are about Jesus, about my faith – I write generally about the whole of life. So, I wouldn’t consider myself just as a Christian musician doing one thing, because I do like to try to write about, and play about, many other things. And hopefully in the future I’ll be get better at it in expressing where people are at, and identifying with them on that basis.

Gary So would you tell us about how you came to faith and why has it continued to be important to you.

Bryn For me it was quite dramatic. There’s a great verse in Isaiah 65 verse one where God says, “I reveal myself to those who did not ask for me and I was found by those who did not seek me” – and this was really me, because I was not interested in, not looking for God. I didn’t know anybody who knew anything about God. It just wasn’t on my radar. I was in a really good band in California and I was making good money and we had a good life. Smoking dope, you know, no crisis, no interest in anything!

And then one night I go to bed and have this really long dream, a very powerful dream where a lot of my old painful memories surfaced. And a lot of hurt and fear and anger came, and all I knew is when I woke up was that I had to come back to England and get right with my dad. I didn’t like him, he didn’t like me and we didn’t talk. I hadn’t thought about him for years. Anyway, that week I got a ticket and went home and ended up living in North Wales. It was the early seventies and if you were kind of a hippie, that’s where you went – North Wales. You got a cottage and chilled. So I came out of that life in California and I had a time out. I had time to look at my life and asking questions like, why do I drink so much, why do I do so many drugs, why am I so angry and fearful, and why am I so driven and insecure?  I would never have thought about myself or looked at my own life when I was in California, but when you’re on your own, you’ve got time to think – about your direction and what’s happening to you.

And that’s when I started asking questions about who am I, what am I doing here, and is there a God?  I’d never thought about that before and I just started going out for long walks and asking, “God are you there? If you are, then you got to let me know.” That’s how the whole thing started. It wasn’t something that I had been seeking or searching.

So I was kind of woken up by that dream, and I started to examine my life. And then about three years later, we went out for a drive one day. And in the corner of this field was a circus tent. Now for the first time I had started painting, and during that week I had painted a circus tent with red and white stripes. So, in the corner of this field that week was this circus tent, so I said “Hey let’s go to see the circus.” We drove in and it was a gospel meeting. I’d never been to anything like that in my life, and so we stood at the back so we had a quick escape if we didn’t like it. But I was kind of riveted by the whole thing. I didn’t understand what the preacher was talking about – the language he was using was alien to me, but there was this banner over the front of the stage with some of Jesus’s words on it: “I am the way, the truth and the life; no one comes to the Father except through me.” And I thought, “Well, I’ve lived my way for 26 years and it ain’t working.” All my questions hadn’t been answered, but I was thinking, if God is ever going to be real to me I’m going to have to take a step of faith tonight and so, that’s what I did.

I just said, “Jesus if you’re are the way to life I choose to believe you.” And I went forward and I was prayed for. I came out of that tent and I felt like I was home, that I belonged and that God was real. And that was really the beginning of the whole journey of finding out who God really is, rather than how I imagined him. And so that’s how it all happened.

Gary That’s a remarkable story.

Bryn It really it is. There have been lots of other kinds of interventions along the way, things you can’t really explain but you just get the sense that God is drawing us to him through the circumstances of our lives, that through the pain and the difficulties, the damage and the suffering that we struggle with every day, that he’s drawing us to himself and he wants us to call out to him. And that’s all I did. I just called out to him. And that’s how it all started.

And I just found that he wants this friendship. He wants a relationship; he wants to restore and heal and make us new. And I didn’t know anything about that until I made that step of faith in that tent.

Gary Well that’s fantastic. And Bryn, when you’re talking there about people being broken and hard times and so on, that’s something that you have come face to face with in the work that you’ve done over the years in prisons. Would you like to tell us a little bit about that?

Bryn Along with my wife I’ve been involved in prison work for 30 years now. And again, it wasn’t something that I sought to do.  I would say that I was called to do it – I was just reading through the gospels and God really spoke to me, and I was eventually given an opportunity to go into prison and I took it. I was kind of cornered, because for about three years I’d be going, Oh I’d love to do that, to go into prison, but I thought, well what would I do? I’m just a musician and I don’t know anybody in prison, and how do you get into prison and so I talked myself out of it. And then suddenly someone said to me, can you do this? So we went in to Wandsworth Prison and the chaplain there – out of all the prisons, he was the only chaplain who said, “Yeah you can come in” – David Cairns was his name – and he let us see what happened in prisons. They have Chaplain’s Hour meetings and then as we were coming out again, he turned round to me and said, “Right, you do it next week!” So that’s how it started.

I was in a church called the Vineyard at that time, a Californian church – the first church plant they did was in Putney where we were in South London. I was on staff at that time. And so I took in a few members of that team and we did an hour long meeting and we’ve been going on like that, and it’s been wonderful. My wife and I love going into prisons. We’ve seen some wonderful things happen. God’s done some wonderful things – we’ve seen people’s lives turned around, changed from the inside out. We’ve seen dramatic physical healings, we’ve seen people emotionally healed. It’s a prisoner’s right to have an hour a week of a religious service. And so, we go in on that basis in the morning, say, and do an hour’s service. I’ll do some worship songs, some of my own songs, I do a short talk from part of the Bible and some prayers, and pray for them at the end. Or in some prisons we do a concert. I’ll go in and do an afternoon concert for the whole prison. And that’s really good.

But generally, when I go in. I always feel out of my depth – even now. I always think this could have been me, because I’ve done things in my life, but the only difference is I just didn’t get caught. It could have been me!

But it is a very creative environment for songwriting as well, because you’ll be standing there in front of these guys and you go, “I need a song that says this,” and I haven’t got one. And so, you go away and write something. And it’s also very creative because different styles of music are really helpful – if you can play reggae, rock, pop, blues, country. Because you’re reaching all different tastes in music. And so it stretches you to see if you can write something that will appeal to them and draw them. But I know from my own experience that people can be transformed and learn to live differently and be a blessing to the earth.

Gary Well that’s fantastic. And is that something that you’re still doing Bryn?

Bryn Yes. I would say the majority of the year I do it. I still do concert work as well. But we do it because we love doing it. Funny enough, we just feel quite at home in prison! It’s not everybody’s cup of tea.  But for us, we love it.

Gary Now, you released a song earlier this year called Enough is Enough. Can you tell us about that?

Bryn Well where we live, developers want to cut this 200, 300 year old wood behind the houses where we live. They want to come into the wood and knock all these trees down and build eleven new city style houses. It’s pretty brutal what it will do to the street and to the neighbourhood. So my wife and I found ourselves default leaders of a campaign to stop it, because people can be quite apathetic and they don’t know how to fight. But you got to fight these things, you can’t let people roll over you. And you know this kind of thing is happening all over the country, the indiscriminate felling of trees to build roads and houses and railway lines and stuff like that. But we’re losing so much, so many of the mature trees in this country and we’re the least forested place in Europe. And the trees are our lungs. We need them. And so, I got up one morning and I was just so upset about this whole thing I sat down and wrote this song. Enough is Enough came in about 20 or 30 minutes. I just got the whole thing. And I thought, Fantastic, we can use this as part of our campaign. So I recorded it really quickly. And then I had a friend who works for the BBC and does National Geographic magazine, he said “Oh I love this song, can I will make a make a video of it?” He did it for free and we got a really good video out of it. So, it all came together very quickly and so we’re trying to get that used and played on the radio and on TV. But that’s the story behind it. It’s a protest song!

Gary So is getting involved in that sort of thing, Bryn, integral to your Christian faith?

Bryn Well, you obviously don’t have to be a Christian to feel upset about your planet going down. But, as a Christian, as a believer, I look in Genesis 2 and our original job description when we were put here was to look after this place. To let it grow, let it develop – we were put here as caretakers, or gardeners. So I think that we still have that remit, just to be looking after what God has made and make sure that the next generation when we’re dead and gone has got something to look at, you know.

I like Joni Mitchell’s Big Yellow Taxi. “They took all the trees and put them in a tree museum and charged all the people a dollar and a half just to see ’em.”

Gary Yeah, that just about sums it up, doesn’t it?

Bryn Yeah it does. But you know, we have been given responsibility for the care of this planet and particularly your own locality. And you can do it. You can actually do something about this. We were put here to look after it the planet look after and help it to flourish.

Gary Very good. Well let me ask you this, Bryn. Recently I’ve spoken to a few musicians who are in and around the 70 years of age mark. Chris Smither and Rory Block were a couple of them. They’re both going strong, performing, recording. Chris Smither seemed to be definitely thinking about the aging process. But when I talked to Rory Block, she said she felt like she was just getting started! She was fantastic, really refreshing actually. What about you? Do you still feel inspired to keep going? What’s the motivation at this stage of your life?

Bryn The big one – you’ve only got so much time left. You better get on with it. [laughs]. I guess that’s the one you think about. But I can still stand up to play! The one good thing about playing blues is you can sit down to play and still look cool! When your legs don’t work anymore you can do a B.B. King! So, you’ve got a long career if you can play blues!  But yeah, I think it’s the wear and tear. I think if you travel like we’ve done – that’s the hard thing now, the actual travel to gigs and being tired because the roads are so much worse. It seems to take a longer time to get here. There’s also the physical side – your finger joints – I’m 70 – and they suffer from wear and tear. Repetitive strain, basically on your fingers and the joints. There’s one finger that doesn’t work properly anymore, it doesn’t close so you’ve got to figure out different ways of playing chords. But then you see Django Reinhardt with two fingers, so you think, well it must be possible! There are physical things that happen to a lot of guitar players’ hands from just playing so much, especially if you’re an acoustic guitar player.

But I think for me it’s that everybody wants to communicate. You still want to communicate when you have something that’s this good, and you want to communicate life to people and blessing. You want them to know that they’re loved and they’re not alone, that they belong and that they’re connected. You have incredible amounts of energy to keep going out and doing that and seeing these things. And it’s interesting, as you get older, you’re more relaxed, there’s nothing to prove. You just have to keep working hard at what you do and trying to make it sound good, and just keep your standards up.

Gary So from what you were saying earlier, you’re still you’re still performing and you’ve got a performance schedule for the rest of the year.

Bryn I haven’t really gone after gigs really for a long time. I’ve more tended to let them come in and so I don’t do that many. Because the prison work is quite absorbing and interesting. But I still like doing concerts because of the variety of music as compared to a prison. And it’s great if you can get a whole evening – having a first half and a second half to play to people. It’s quite a luxury now to be able to do that. And it’s a good test of whether your chops are still up to it and you can still play and communicate.

Gary So have you plans for a new album at some stage do you think?

Bryn Well I got a title which is good! So, I’m trying to gather ideas around that. I think that’s about as much as I got really. I’m a writer, and you have put your hat on as a writer – roadwork takes a lot of time, so I need to take time off to do it.

Gary Well, we’ll look out for that. Bryn. We’d look forward to doing a review at Down at the Crossroads when that project is completed. Thanks for taking the time to talk to us. It’s been great.

Rory Block on the power of music: Part 2 of our Interview

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“Every night I do a show and I meet people afterwards and they tell me their own stories. When I get off-stage, they thank me for songs I’ve written. They tell me that this song saved their life; that song saved her dad’s life…”

Rory Block is a multiple Blues Award winner, an exceptional acoustic guitarist and has been playing the blues for the past 50 odd years. In this terrific interview, she told us she feels inspired, motivated and like she’s just getting started. In Part 1 of the interview, she talked about getting her Acoustic Blues Artist of the Year award, her celebrated “mentor series” of tributes to the country blues legends, and the making of her new album of Bessie Smith songs, A Woman’s Soul. In Part 2, below, she talks about Robert Johnson, overcoming stage fright, and reminisces about meeting Son House and Rev. Gary Davis.

Gary When you’ve been taking on an old blues song, whether it’s a Robert Johnson song or Mississippi John Hurt song, I guess you’re always trying to make it fresh for a modern audience. You’re capturing this style, something of the essence. But how do you go about that, you know taking a one of those guy’s songs and making it fresh?

Rory Well I don’t think it’s something that you that you consciously do. I don’t consciously say, I better do this a little different. With the Robert Johnson tribute, that was an example of where I didn’t want to do it differently. For me Robert Johnson is the top of the mountain. He is the master of that style. It doesn’t get any better than that. So it’s not like somebody is waiting for me to do it my way.

And that doesn’t diminish me as an artist. It just means that I’m not going to come up with a better way. So, I wanted to get right down to something that I felt I really understood. I heard him first in 1964 when I was 14 years old and I immediately knew that he was the top of the mountain. I mean it was so great. So, I said, I’m going to crack this code – from I first heard his music, I had some kind of a connection to it and I was very focused on it. I want to talk about that again in a second, where I had an interesting background that I think gave me a certain edge when it came to being able to play something very close to what he was playing.

And so I just said, I’m going for the way he did it, both vocals and guitar. I wanted it to be accurate and measure by measure. I think there’s not a better way than his way – I started with that. I’m not going to create a better way than his way. I’m going to do it his way. What does that evoke? Remember with the classic painters of yore. They started their careers by copying the paintings of Masters stroke for stroke because that taught them. You need to know to the best of your ability how to do what they did. So that’s how I approached Robert Johnson. I said, he’s the top and I’m the student. So, I approached it that way.

So that leads to, why do I think that I could do that? Well, the first type of American roots music that I was exposed to was Appalachian. This early mountain, country music later evolved to bluegrass and later evolved to today’s country music. The earliest mountain music had a style of banjo playing called claw hammer. And my dad played that.  My father was also a country fiddle player – that was Irish music, music from the British Isles from Ireland, Scotland and England. All the people who came over here brought their music and their music evolved and changed and grew. But much of it was as written in the old style.

So there was my dad playing this really wonderful old mountain style of banjo playing called frailing, and there’s a lot of old timey music players who know exactly that style. Plucking up and slamming down was part of it. Chicka-boom, chicka-boom, chicka-boom, and it was a very unusual hand movement. Well, that translated totally into Robert Johnson, because my dad had shown me how to do that when I was a kid. So, there I was going chicka-boom, snapping up and thumping down. My dad had a thumping style on guitar and on banjo, but he played fiddle very beautifully. But his banjo playing as he showed it to me was a huge help for me when I started playing this percussive style, like when I watch Son House hitting the strings, hitting the guitar with his whole hand. Wham! You know, like a drum. And that style was completely comfortable for me because of what I had learned from my dad. And so, I feel like that gave me an edge. Because I was able to play the percussive style that a lot of those blues players were playing, in a very comfortable way. It was right there for me because I had been working on that already since 1964.

Then after Robert Johnson came Son House, and on those two recordings I felt very much like I wanted to capture the original formats of the songs. But then after that I began to do it a little different. Oh you know I was really having a lot of fun! It was starting to feel like, if I wanted to put an overdub on that wasn’t part of the original arrangement, that was okay, and you know, it got a little looser with Skip James, with Fred McDowell, Mississippi John Hurt. I started putting slide solos on top of songs and then that really opened up the idea that the arrangements could be what whatever I felt I wanted to do. With Robert Johnson I had to do it like him. With Son House. I wanted to do it like him too, but maybe with a little more variation. But after that, I thought, well this could really open up and just not be in the expected direction all the time.

Gary That’s very interesting.  Now the music that you play, Rory, is mostly nearly a century old and is from a different time, a different social context. What would you say is the enduring power of the blues? What makes it still relevant?

Rory Well, first of all if you took away all of our electrical stuff and all of our technology, we’d all just still be like the people we’ve been over the thousands and millions of years – you know, essentially still all human. We all cry, we all laugh, we all hurt. We all are excited and happy. We all are essentially the same. We’re all from the same seed – everybody. So, if you take away the trappings of what makes this century and what makes it that century, then nothing has changed. It’s essentially the same message, the cry from the soul, you could say. It’s all the same deep emotions. Look at the Irish and English, and the ballads from that part of the world from years and years ago passed down through the centuries and the ages, and they’re all about the same things that we feel and care about now and today and same thing – blues. Same thing with all forms of music that have a storyline. We’re still talking about the same stuff that we all understand.

Gary So along the way and all the ups and downs of your career as a travelling musician, did you ever think about giving up, just thinking this is too hard, especially in the early days.  I can’t do this anymore.

Rory All the time! [laughs] Except now. Yeah, it’s like every time I went into the studio – and I’m thinking it happened very much with Mama’s Blues which is before the mentor series – where I just thought, I’ll never sing again. You know that feeling has come over me so much. Not really now, I just have to say, I’m on my stride! I don’t question myself that much now, but there was that day where I went into the studio to do a vocal on the next record and I thought, well all that stuff I did in the past was just by accident. Yeah, but I’m never gonna be able to do it again. And I had that feeling every time, and every time things wouldn’t go well. Look, I’ve been in a field of music that has been so marginalized for so long and all I ever heard was, you’re never going gonna make it singing blues. It’s a curiosity but it’s a thing of the past. Wake up! The message is, become a commercial artist, that’s where the career is, that’s where the money is, that’s where the success is. What you want to do, you’re never going to make it. A lot of people told me that and I felt very discouraged. But I kept on – music is all I know how to do; I couldn’t have gone off and chosen another career because music is what I know how to do. And why did you choose blues? Because blues is what I love.

But that was kind of why I kept on and kept on. But I always felt discouraged. I felt like I’m nowhere, nobody. I’m never going to be a thing, you know. And then there would be these surprises that would happen that would just make me feel like this could this could work. And these little joyous moments, moments where I said this is working, this is great. When Stevie Wonder came and played in the studio on my record a million years ago now, I said, this is the finest moment of my musical existence, if nothing else good ever happens! I’m content with this one. It was so sweet, it was so great.

And it’s still great to this day. Bonnie Raitt played on my record…Mark Knopfler – there are some wonderful people who’ve been generous and just were willing to appear on one of my recordings and that meant the world. So good things would suddenly happen out of the blue. And then I would get nominated. All of a sudden, I start getting nominated. You never know! But there was much discouragement, but always a tremendous amount of love for the music just sort of kept me on the straight line. I did band and songwriting stuff for a while – no problem there. I love that too. And then there was the Lovin’ Whisky song that became a hit record in Holland – I have a gold record for that – and then it kind of spread around different parts of Europe, and then it became much more well-known in the United States as a kind of ricochet across the ocean. [Check out the story behind the song below]

Gary And presumably what you get from your audiences when you’re performing is a big thing as well.

Rory It’s huge. I had to overcome fear and stage fright that was really debilitating. I was the worst, fearful.  I have a book about my life called When a Woman Gets the Blues which is now completely totally politically incorrect from start to finish and I’m sure I’ll have to hear about it sooner or later, but when I wrote it, it was what was on my mind at the time. But I have a chapter on stage fright where I say that having been raised feeling that I was like the Little Match Girl, I just didn’t feel like I was anybody that anybody would care about. I was very insecure and that’s part of my story. I was told that I was not worthy. I went out into the world knowing that I was attached to this music and that I had capabilities and that people went, wow, when I was just a teenager, how did you learn that? Where’d that come from? I knew I had this talent, but I also had this terribly unworthy feeling as a person. So, I went on stage in the beginning totally terrified. I felt like I was just going to completely mess up and I just was so afraid and for about five years I never opened my eyes. I just shook with fear on stage and it was always humiliating and embarrassing, and I’d get off stage and I would think, Man that was horrible.

Then I had like a series of revelations about it. One of them was, wait a minute, what are you putting yourself through? The people in the audience didn’t come there because they hate you! They came there to hear your music, so that sort of means they like you! And I had this whole realization that I was like a little kid kind of hiding behind my mother’s aprons with fear and I was bringing this fear onto the stage and it was misplaced. So, I thought, well,l this is just my office. This is where I go to work every day or every night or every weekend. What reason do I have to be any more afraid of going to my office than all the other people who go to work every day in their office and they’re not, you know, cowering in fear. So, I had this revelation that these people in the audience were my friends, and I was able to come out of that debilitating stage fright and come to a point where I felt I’m in a roomful of friends, a really wonderful safe place and I can talk to them. And that’s how I relate to my audiences and they’re wonderful people.

By the way, every night I do a show and I meet people afterwards and I go, wow, people are so much more wonderful and real than you think looking at the news. When you’re face to face, person to person with the real people that are out there, you realize people are still good at heart, they’re wonderful, and people tell me their own stories. When I get off-stage, they thank me for songs I’ve written. They tell me that this song saved their life; that song saved her dad’s life. It could be anything. When people come up to me, they get real, they go, “thank you for writing Lovin’ Whisky – I stopped drinking two weeks ago.” And I go, thank you for telling me.

And somebody would write me about such and such a song, and say, I was going to kill myself…but I changed my mind. Oh man, if I’ve done one thing like that! So, I got to the point where before going on stage I had no routine – I didn’t do any deep breathing, I didn’t do anything – but I thought, if I could just do one good thing for one person, I’m good with that. I just wanted to be used to do something good for someone. And every night someone or multiple people in the house would verify that feeling that they didn’t feel alone because I wrote an embarrassing song about my own life and decided that it didn’t matter if I was embarrassed by it in case it helps someone else. And it always does, because our stories are universal.

Gary Fabulous. I really wish we could go off on a number of different tangents here it’s been very, very interesting. But I guess we’ll probably have to come to a close or else we could be here all day! It’s been absolutely fascinating. But I can’t let you go and not ask about the Reverend Gary Davis who is a particular favourite of mine. He’s just a wonderful guitarist and yet Rolling Stone magazine had no room for him in its list of 100 greatest guitarist, which is absolutely amazing.

I read Ian Zack’s Say No to the Devil. I don’t know if you’ve read that biography of Davis – it’s very, very good. Actually it’s a heart rending story, seeing Davis’s struggle and poverty, and yet seeing the level of his expertise and musicality. So, tell us a little bit about going to see Gary Davis for guitar lessons and what your impressions of him were.

Rory I was absolutely blinded with admiration with every one of the original blues players whom I met. Every one of them – it was like the light shining, reflecting from them, beautiful light that was beyond blinding and amazing. And Reverend Gary Davis was no different. I mean I just was in awe.

I was 15 and I was not a student by the way. Stephan Grossman was my first boyfriend and he would take me all these places because he knew everybody – all the record collectors, all the musicians. In Europe they were starting to play some really cool songs. There was Eric Clapton who was playing Robert Johnson stuff and including country blues influences. The Beatles were doing it, and so we knew that on the other side of the ocean people were aware of the blues, but you could count us on two hands – the record collectors, the people looking for the early blues players, and the people playing, you could count on maybe a hand or two. So anyway, Stefan knew all these people and he would take me everywhere, we’d go backstage to meet them every time someone was rediscovered because he would know about it. We would end up doing things like going to Mississippi John Hurt’s home and that sort of thing, and Son House would come and visit Stefan at his parents’ house and I was there too.

So we went to Reverend Gary Davis’s apartment in the Bronx and sometimes David Bromberg would be there too. Only a handful of people were there. Roy Bookbinder, Woody Mann, a few others. Jorma [Kaukonen], told me and he didn’t actually meet Reverend Gary Davis but he just immersed himself in his music which is also a deep and real way to get to know the music. Like me and Robert Johnson. So anyway, Reverend Gary Davis was awesome and beautiful. He was witty, he was funny, sharp, quick. He was a phenomenal player, as you know. But he didn’t stop and say, you put the second finger of your index finger on the third fret and so on. He didn’t teach you anything like that, he just played. And he and Stephan would just sort of roast each other. I mean when Gary Davis would start, you had to keep up with him if you wanted to be his student, and he would just play and he would be, I think correctly, saying, I’m showing you my hand. You see what I’m doing? Now do it. So that was like the hard knock school of great guitar lessons and then he would sort of really tease Stefan, if Stefan didn’t pick it up immediately. He was so funny and he’d rib Stefan, but Stefan kept up with him, and they would go back and forth. Stefan learned it that way, and so did David Bromberg and Roy Bookbinder.  That’s how they learned. That was really being an apprentice, I think.

Gary Fantastic. Thank you Rory. Thank you for being so generous with your time.

Rory No problem, Gary.Thank you.

 

 

Rory Block is just getting started: Part 1 of our Interview

“I feel like I’m on a roll. I know what I’m doing here. I’m focused. I’m excited about it, I’m on the road and I know what my destination is. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that as clearly as I feel it now.” Rory Block

Rory Block is one of the world’s greatest living acoustic blues artists. She’s been honing her guitar skills since she was a teenager in 1964 in New York City, and has devoted her life and career to performing the blues. Her talent has been recognized many times by WC Handy and Blues Music Awards in the US, as well as gaining accolades and awards in Europe. She has just won Acoustic Artist of the Year in the 2019 Blues Music Awards.

Over the years Rory has performed with a host of other top artists like Keb’ Mo’, Bonnie Raitt, Stevie Wonder, Taj Mahal, Mark Knopfler, Mary Chapin Carpenter, Jorma Kaukonen…the list goes on. As the New York Times put it, “Her playing is perfect, her singing otherworldly as she wrestles with ghosts, shadows and legends.”

Rory Block grew up in the New York of the 50s and 60s, in the world of Bob Dylan, Maria Muldaur, and the folk revival which saw country blues artists like Skip James, Mississippi John Hurt, Rev. Gary Davis, Fred McDowell and Son House rediscovered. Her personal encounters with these influential blues masters of the 20th century left an indelible mark on her and has inspired her music and performances ever since. Not least in her highly acclaimed set of tribute albums to Robert Johnson, Bukka White, Skip James, Mississippi John Hurt, Rev. Gary Davis, Fred McDowell and Son House. In these she has masterfully recreated the music of these seminal artists, reinterpreting the songs for a new generation.

Down at the Crossroads was delighted to get talking to Rory, and found her undaunted by the prospect of getting older, as inspired and excited about her music as ever, embarking on a new multi-album project which pays tribute to the woman blues artists of yesteryear, and generally loving life.

We talked to her about her life in the blues and her new album A Woman’s Soul: A Tribute to Bessie Smith. So interesting and wide-reaching was the discussion, we’ve split in into two parts. Here’s Part 1 –

Gary Rory, Congratulations for having won that Blues Music Award. But I know of course that you’ve won many blues music and W.C. Handy awards and others over the years. How satisfying is that sort of recognition for you?

Rory It really does mean a lot. I think it’s fabulous to be nominated. Actually, it’s a shock! When I was first nominated, I couldn’t believe it. It was just so you know – so justifying – it makes me feel like my work, it means something. People are noticing, people care. Sometimes we can get in a bit of a low spot where we think nothing that you’re doing adds up to anything. Anybody can have that feeling. And so, a nomination in itself tells you that you shouldn’t be discouraged, that something is going right.

But I used to tell myself, don’t worry, because I had been nominated a number of times before winning the first time, and I was pretty much satisfied with that and I wasn’t expecting to win. But I secretly wished that someday I would! But I kept telling myself not to think about it. And when I did win, it was a sweet thing and it did really make me feel joyous and happy. And then most recently I thought, well, I’ll never win again, I’ve got my five awards. That’s more than enough. So, I was going to the awards fully expecting not to win because I’m not that much of a social media person and these days you just really need wide reach, lots of attention given to social media and I’m not so great at that at all. I mean, I don’t post anything myself.  Without my husband nobody would see anything! But I just thought well, I’ll just be so happy with the nomination. And so, when I heard my name in the distance, I didn’t even know my category had been called. And I thought, Oh my God, I think I might have just – could it be? And I thought I better go and see! So, I kind of went up the back steps to the stage and then they were all looking towards me coming up and I thought, this could be that I just won – it was so far from my mind at that point! It was as if I just thought that’s part of the past.

So it’s really meant a great deal to me because I felt like somehow it was really a validation of my work – that it is being appreciated. I think that’s the beauty of it, honestly, it is a good feeling.

Gary Yeah. All these years in your long career and it is still being appreciated.

Rory Nice. I feel energized and so does my husband Rob. In fact, I feel like I’m just getting started! Even without the award I feel like I’m on a roll. I know what I’m doing here. I’m focused. I’m excited about it, I’m on the road and I know what my destination is. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that as clearly as I feel it now.

Gary Well that’s absolutely fabulous, because as people get older, sometimes they just kind of drift a little bit. They think it’s all behind them. But you know I think what you’re saying is fantastic, that you feel you’re on a roll, that you’ve a lot more to do. That’s brilliant.

Rory Yeah. I mean, honestly, that’s the whole thing about “older or younger” whatever it may be – when it really comes down to it – getting older or passing years is only what you make it. You know, you may make a disadvantage of it, but honestly, I don’t go there. I see it as an advantage. Now maybe I’m crazy, but I see it as a real opportunity to know more, to do more with what you know, to feel more…your fruit ripens! And to me it’s like I don’t feel old. What are you talking about? For me, it’s just like I feel more secure. I’m more clear that this is what I was put here to do. You know, really, I see it that way. I was put here to do it. And man, I’m just getting started!  I don’t feel a limitation at all and I don’t feel old – my goodness, not at all.

Gary Well that is fantastic. That was very refreshing to hear you say that. And congratulations on the Bessie Smith album which has been very well acclaimed and very well received. Tell us a bit about why you wanted to make this album.

Rory Well, you know that my previous project is the mentor series. I have to back up and just talk about that if I may, for a second, because it makes the other thing make more sense.  I was raised in an environment and in a family where you didn’t talk about your accomplishments. It was not OK. Whatever that moral system is where some of us were raised to go, “Don’t boast, don’t tell anyone.” And I never spoke about the people that I knew in person and I never spoke about, “well you know I actually spent time with Son House” – I never spoke about anything from the past. And then one day it just hit me, like, I really want to talk about this! I thought I ought to tell my story a little bit and that’s when I started writing my book. And I ought to record records that celebrate the people that I knew in person. So, after the Robert Johnson tribute, which was however many years ago and won Acoustic Album of the Year, I thought it really should be followed by Son House. Whom I knew and had spent a fair amount of time with. And then I thought, you know, I really should try and explain that this is someone who inspired me in person, because in retrospect, how rare is it to have spent time with him? I just thought well, everybody spends time with someone else, and everyone spends time with Reverend Gary Davis and Mississippi John Hurt! But it really turned out that good fortune had put me into the right place at the right time and I was able to briefly meet these absolutely phenomenal, influential founding masters of blues.

So that led to the mentor series – six CDs to blues masters whom I met in person. And it was nothing to do with whether they were women or men. These were the blues people who were rediscovered and brought in to Greenwich Village where I lived. If they had brought Bessie Smith back (she was deceased at that point) – I would have been overjoyed to meet her too. But with no choice on my part, these were the blues masters who I was introduced to as a young teenager. So those six CDs concluded the mentor series.

And everyone was saying, What are you gonna do to follow up? And then I thought, this really needs to be about my favourite women of blues, and so “the power women of the blues” is my new theme. And it was a no-brainer to start with Bessie Smith. No, I didn’t meet Bessie Smith but that’s not the criterion of this new series. It is those who I dearly loved who were a huge part of inspiring me. And I don’t even know who I’ll pick from here because there’s such a broad range of names and great artists. You could do tributes just about for the rest of one’s life and never run out of inspiration. But to choose Bessie Smith was easy for me because I grew up listening to her music.

Gary Actually it was the women blues artists in the first instance that were the really big stars even before the men wasn’t it?

Rory You know that’s a good point and I’ve heard nobody say that, but I think you’re right. Yes, there was Bessie Smith, Ida Cox, Ma Rainey, Memphis Minnie, all who actually attained real name recognition. They toured the world with bands – Bessie Smith was playing with Louis Armstrong and she played for luminaries around the world and she was a big star. So yeah, I think that’s that is a good point.

Gary Then you get through to somebody like Sister Rosetta Tharpe who maybe isn’t exactly blues but I mean she was a big star.

Rory Yeah. That’s totally correct. And one of my challenges is how modern do I get? Bessie Smith was still recording, maybe overlapping in some of the years of the early country blues acoustic artists.  But then there were the ones who are even beyond Bessie’s decade and I’m going to I have to limit this to 1940, 1950, 1960. So that’s a challenge that I haven’t yet sorted out. I suppose it really shouldn’t matter that much and I should just pick my favorites!

Gary Yeah, it’s very interesting. All those wonderful tribute albums you’ve done to the country blues guys – they were all fine guitarists and I guess this is an understandable thing for you to do to pay tribute to them by picking up something of their style and at the same time making it your own. But I guess the process is really rather different with somebody like Bessie Smith who sang with a big band. How much of a challenge was it and how did you go about reinterpreting the songs?

Rory I’m glad you asked because that was a huge challenge and I was thinking I really wouldn’t manage it very well. But I figured it out! But in the beginning, I thought, How will I play all these jazz chords because I’m not a jazz player? And I started listening to it and I thought, this isn’t going to come out right. This is never going to work, it’s not going to have any credibility. And I started trying to do the basic tracks which come first on the album. As I started working on them, I thought, I can’t get these chords, they’re over my head. But then, somehow or other it began to fall into place.

I start with a simple rhythm track that I do myself, by the way, with little boxes and Bongo things – mostly boxes and tubs, an oatmeal box, literally, and serving spoons and wooden spoons. And I create a basic track which gives it a much more alive feel than a generated click track. I wanted a more organic sound. So, if I make my own click track that translates into a much more natural feel in the end. I’ve discovered this and it’s really my thing. It’s a way to make it sound more organic, because there’s gonna be the human variation on the beats and they’re not just computer generated. So then I play the acoustic layer of the chords to the best of my ability. And then I put on overdubs, once I get that.

So, the challenge was to get the chords right. And I was scratching my head, wishing I’d had jazz training, but I managed, and all of a sudden, it got easier!  And then I would move on and put the bass part on. I was listening to the parts of the band members on her great tracks and the bass player is astounding! So I tried to do that and I followed along, translating what I could, and I think I did a pretty much a note for note type of translation in the beginning. And then after a while I stopped doing that. It was perfect for the first few tunes to use as much as possible the actual notes played by the bass player. Then after a while I just started getting the bass groove to my guitar down and I just started playing and it felt like this is working. So after that, it just opened up and I thought, I can do this! And then I would layer on my slide parts. And then once it gets rolling, then it’s like, this is fun!

Gary So you basically did everything on the album yourself by the sounds of things?

Rory Completely, yes! There’s nobody else but me! That’s the way it’s been for a while and I’ll tell you why I started doing it. And there is no other good reason other than that in the beginning we couldn’t afford anything. Back in the days when they were making big L.A., New York records, if you look back at the budgets for a star from the 70s, we’re talking like, a half a million dollars to make an album. And then times changed and those little acoustic artists came along and we’d make albums at studios that weren’t charging three and four hundred dollars an hour, but maybe 40 dollars an hour. We’re like, oh this is so great! But I had one day in the studio with luminary players where a band came in – the soul people from Philadelphia and so on – and it was a ten thousand dollar day! You know, I mean, my goodness people don’t have that kind of budget money anymore now.

At one point I used Stevie Wonder’s backup singers on a certain record but that was back when people were giving me budget money to pay for that stuff. But then it just kept getting less, and it wasn’t because you were becoming less known or because people didn’t care about your music or your career wasn’t growing, it was because everything was restructuring. Record companies’ budgets went down, down, down. Everybody I know has had the same experience. So, in the end I said, I’m going to sing these myself, I’m going to play this myself. It was literally you had to do it if you wanted to have a band sound in this little niche that I’m talking about. So, I just came up with it and it right away felt like it could work. And so, I’ve stayed with that and now it’s like it’s what I do.

Gary Now you just mentioned singing. People will always remark that on your fantastic guitar work and your slide playing, but in listening to this album, I must say, I was very taken with your singing. Obviously, you couldn’t try to imitate Bessie Smith – but the singing on this is terrific. What had you to think about in your approach to the singing?

Rory Getting the right amount of soul. You know, it’s really about the soul and putting yourself into it the whole way. I had to add power. But listen, I’ve been singing Mississippi John Hurt, I’ve been singing Reverend Gary Davis, I’ve been singing Robert Johnson, so I understand that you can’t do a weak vocal. I have to give my all because these artists are just so amazing that I really don’t want to miss the mark. I know I have to give everything that I’m capable of and so that’s how I that’s how I approach it – I go, you better get this right! This is not about getting by. This is about giving everything you can give. And as you said earlier, you also have to put something of yourself in there, otherwise you’re trying to be someone else.

Gary Yeah. And every occasion, whether it’s a Robert Johnson song or Mississippi John Hurt song, I guess you’re always trying to make it fresh for a modern audience. You’re capturing this style, something of the essence. But how do you go about that, you know, taking one of those guy’s songs and making it fresh?

Rory Well I don’t think it’s something that you consciously do. I don’t consciously say, I better do this a little different. With the Robert Johnson tribute, that was an example of where I didn’t want to do it differently. For me Robert Johnson is the top of the mountain. He is the master of that style. It doesn’t get any better than that. So, it’s not like somebody is waiting for me to do it my way.

And that doesn’t diminish me as an artist. It just means that I’m not going to come up with a better way. So, I wanted to get right down to something that I felt I really understood. I heard him first in 1964 when I was 14 years old and I immediately knew that he was the top of the mountain. I mean it was so great. So I said, I’m going to crack this code – because I knew about the guitar playing, I feel like I’ve known from the time that I first started listening to him and tried to play the music, I had some kind of a connection to it and I was very focused on it. I want to talk about that again in a second, where I had an interesting background that I think gave me a certain edge when it came to being able to play something very close to what he was playing.

Check out Part 2 of our interview with Rory Block here, where she talks about meeting the seminal country blues artists, dealing with stage-fright, and sitting in guitar lessons with Rev. Gary Davis.

Texas musical pioneers: The Legacy of Blind Willie Johnson

Blind Willie Johnson: “The ferocity he brought to the guitar was unheard of previously.”

Michael Corcoran is an award-winning Austin, Texas-based journalist who has been a serious music critic since he was a teenager. He’s plied his trade in Hawaii and California, and since 1984 has written for the Austin Chronicle, Dallas Morning News, Austin American Statesman, Texas Monthly and Rolling Stone. He’s won numerous awards, and has been nominated for two Grammys in the album notes and historical album categories for Washington Phillips and His Manzarene Dreams (Dust-to-Digital). Music has been a life-long passion – he told me, “I was 8 when the Beatles appeared on “The Ed Sullivan Show” in 1964. A little too young to start a band the next day, but the perfect age to start listening. Some of my younger friends had Kiss, I had the Beatles. Then I got completely into the Monkees, who were less a band than a vehicle for great songs from Carole King, Neil Diamond, Harry Nilsson, Boyce & Hart and so on.”

Corcoran has written a number of books, including, notably his 2017 All Over the Map, (University of North Texas Press), which has been described as a “musical waltz across Texas and is an illustrated collection of profiles of Texas music pioneers, most underrated or overlooked. “It started,” he says, “as a newspaper article for the Chicago Tribune in advance of South by Southwest. The assignment was to describe what makes Texas music special. I’m not from Texas. I came here from Hawaii in 1984, so I had a lot of catching up to do. But sometimes an outsider gets a clearer picture than the folks who’ve been entrenched. Texas has a lot of swagger. It’s where the cowboy movies – popular with blacks as well as whites – were set and so the music tapped into that Old West pioneer spirit.”

Why, I asked him, is Texas so formative for American music? Is it the geography, the people, the history, just what is it?

“Texas was the first state to have large populations of both African-Americans and Hispanics. They worked side by side in the fields, along with whites. Guitars came up from Mexico. It was a musical melting pot. Also, the Czech and German immigrants, who started coming in the 1850s, built these huge dancehalls like back home. Musicians had to play loud to get the people dancing, so Texans were the first to play electric guitars in blues (T-Bone Walker), jazz (Charlie Christian) and country (Bob Dunn of the Musical Brownies). More than anything else, the dancing culture influenced the music.”

Corcoran suggested a while ago, provocatively, that Texas, not Mississippi, is the true home of the blues. What, I asked him is the case for that? He told me that this observation was based on the birth of boogie-woogie in the lumber camps of East Texas after the Civil War. “Blind Lemon Jefferson was the first star of guitar blues, recording three years before Charlie Patton and the other Mississippi Delta guys. A lot of things happened in Texas before anywhere else. But re-thinking this “home of the blues” claim, I’d have to say that the blues were born wherever black people were slaves – which was all over the south. The blues, like gospel, grew out of the Negro spirituals that the slaves would sing in the fields to lift their spirits.”

He has also suggested that maybe 90% of the music that came after the 1920s can be traced back to three Texas artists – Blind Willie Johnson, Arizona Dranes, and Washington Phillips. In support of this, Corcoran told me, “Blind Willie was the first true guitar hero, like the first basketball player who could dunk. Jimmy Page is a direct descendent. Eric Clapton, Duane Allman. Blind Lemon, a lively guitarist and singer, was playing house party dance music, when Johnson was making his guitar the star. Dranes brought a rhythmic, secular pound to gospel music. That’s the original R&B, which became rock n’ roll. Then, Washington Phillips can be credited with introducing introspection to song-writing on gospel songs that were often more about the realities of life. Gospel music was not known for honesty until Denomination Blues or The Church Needs Good Deacons.

Corcoran is currently researching and writing a book coming out in Spring 2020, entitled Ghost Notes, which is basically a sequel to All Over the Map, but with more context. “I’ve woven my research on Johnson, Dranes and Phillips to better reflect what it was like being poor and black in Texas in the 1920s. The church was not just a spiritual sanctuary. I have a section on blues piano, featuring Amos Milburn and Charles Brown, plus Milton Brown and the birth of Western Swing, Roky Erickson, Sippie Wallace. That’s the beauty of Texas music – so many styles and genres, but with the same underlying purpose of coming up with some new stuff that’s going to blow people away.”

Blind Willie Johnson

Blind Willie Johnson is one of the artists about which Corcoran has written extensively. Johnson recorded for Columbia Records from 1927 until 1930, thirty tracks in total, with ten each recorded in Dallas, New Orleans and Atlanta. Johnson’s recordings were very successful, outselling even Bessie Smith, and his guitar playing was the inspiration for a many of the Delta blues artists, including Robert Johnson, whose songs and playing style became foundational for later electric blues and rock’n’roll. So Blind Willie casts a long shadow.

Johnson, however, restricted his singing to gospel songs, unlike, say, Blind Willie McTell, who sang the blues along with sacred songs. “His raspy evangelical bark and dramatic guitar,” says Corcoran, “were designed to draw in milling, mulling masses on street corners, not to charm casual roots rock fans decades later.”

Corcoran contributed extensive liner notes for the 2016 Alligator Records Blind Willie Johnson tribute album (God Don’t Never Change: The Songs of Blind Willie Johnson), and he has more to offer in his forthcoming book. But it’s fair to say that he feels that there have been more than a few misunderstandings and false stories about Willie Johnson’s life.

“Just finding his death certificate cleared up a lot of misinformation, like that he died in 1945, not ’49. Through the years I’ve found that the most unreliable information comes through interviews. The person being interviewed tends to puff up their own importance and that’s what happened when Sam Charters found Blind Willie’s widow Angeline in the 1950s. Almost all the misinformation, including how he died, came from her. She even claimed to be the female voice on her husband’s records, but we later found out it was another wife, Willie B. Harris.”

Corcoran questions, for example, Angeline’s story of Johnson’s death. She said that her husband died from pneumonia in 1949 after sleeping on wet newspapers after a fire had burned down their home. “We didn’t get wet, but just the dampness, you know, and then he’s singing and his veins opened and everything, and it just made him sick.” She says she took him to the hospital but “They wouldn’t accept him. He’d have been living today if they’d accepted him. ’Cause he’s blind. Blind folks has a hard time – he can’t get in the hospital.”

Corcoran quotes blues scholar Mack McCormick, whom he regarded as “probably the greatest music researcher of our time,” as concluding that such a scenario was “highly unlikely.” McCormick worked in a Houston emergency room in the Jim Crow era and has suggested that Johnson wouldn’t have been turned away. In addition, Michael Corcoran makes the point that it would have been almost unthinkable for Johnson and his wife not to have been taken in by the congregation of their church after the disaster of the fire.

I wonder, however, if Angeline’s story of her husband being turned away from a hospital in 1945 is really not to be trusted. A 2014 paper by Kerri L. Hunkele of the University of New Hampshire (Segregation in United States Healthcare: From Reconstruction to Deluxe Jim Crow) highlights the fact that across the South, Jim Crow medical laws hindered access to medical care for blacks. White nurses were not to treat African American males and hospital facilities were segregated, including entrances and waiting rooms. Even by the end of the ‘40s, the ratio of African American physicians to the Black population remained at one to over 3,600, resulting in real problems for African American males, who could be refused by White doctors or would not be able to see certain doctors because of the all-White nursing staffs. In Mississippi, a law also meant that medical treatment would be available to African Americans only after the White patients were all treated.

With all this in mind, Hunkele says that “scholarship on hospital segregation emphasizes the severe health consequences suffered by individuals who could not gain admittance to White-only facilities or overcrowded Jim Crow wards in biracial hospitals…All of these problems arose because of the Jim Crow Laws, which hindered blacks’ abilities to access proper medical treatment.” (On this, further see Karen Kruse, Deluxe Jim Crow: Civil Rights and American Health Policy, 1935-1954, Athens: University of Georgia Press, 2011). All this, it seems to me, lends veracity to Angeline’s account of Blind Willie Johnson’s death.

But there’s a lot about Johnson’s life that we don’t know. What we do know, says Michael Corcoran, is “that for a brief period of time, Johnson was a recording star, one of the most popular gospel “race” artists of his era.” And that his influence has been enormous, his songs covered down through the years by Rev Gary Davis and Fred McDowell, but also by more recent rock bands like the Grateful Dead, Led Zeppelin, Bruce Springsteen and the White Stripes. Eric Clapton called his slide work on It’s Nobody’s Fault But Mine “probably the finest slide guitar playing you’ll ever hear,” and Jack White of The White Stripes thinks Dark Was the Night, Cold Was the Ground is “the greatest example of slide guitar ever recorded.”

And then, of course, there is the small matter of being launched into space. Johnson has the distinction of having one of his songs feature on a special recording sent aboard the Voyager spacecraft, launched in 1977 to head beyond the outer solar system into deep space – the Voyager Golden Record also contains music by Beethovan, Mozart and Stravinsky.

Willie Johnson’s songs were gospel songs – he sang out of his Christian faith. And yet these songs continued to be covered and are still being sung and performed and appreciated by believers and non-believers alike. I asked Corcoran why this is.

“The ferocity he brought to the guitar was unheard of previously. Plus, his most popular songs – Motherless Children, If I Had My Way, Nobody’s Fault But Mine aren’t overtly religious. Lyrics keep a lot of fans away from gospel, but Blind Willie’s music sounds secular as hell.”

To be fair, however, Johnson’s songs are overtly gospel – you only have to listen to Jesus is Coming Soon, Keep Your Lamps Trimmed and Burning, Sweeter as the Days Roll By or Latter Rain, to appreciate the depth of religious passion that drove Willie Johnson. Johnson was a Pentecostal – I wondered if that had a particular effect on his music making and singing. “It is interesting,” says Corcoran, “that his natural voice was so good. Every other gravel-voiced singer, like Tom Waits, takes that approach because their regular voice sucks. But since Johnson did almost all his singing on street corners for tips, he needed a gimmick to draw the milling crowds towards him. His mentor Blind Madkin Butler taught him that. Blind Willie recorded more songs without the false bass.” If you listen to Johnson’s songs, you’ll hear that he actually has a fine singing voice as opposed to the gravelly rasping you get on some of his songs – e.g. Let Your Light Shine On Me.

Johnson’s Pentecostalism comes out specifically in his Latter Rain, which is often misquoted, largely because most people don’t understand the origin of the term “latter rain.” This refers to the ancient prophet of Israel, Joel, who talked about God sending the early and the latter rain on the crops (Joel 2:23, 28). Joel 2 was quoted by Peter on the day of Pentecost in the New Testament, as foretelling the outpouring of the Spirit, and Pentecostals – whose movement had started in 1901 – went on to interpret the “early rain” as the initial outpouring of the Spirit on the Day of Pentecost in the 1st century and the “latter rain” as referring to their own movement of Spirit blessing.

I asked Michael if he had a couple of favourite Willie Johnson songs, and to name a favourite cover of a Willie Johnson song.

“I think God Moves On the Water is an incredible achievement for one man and a guitar. Mack McCormick said that Madkin Butler wrote it and taught it to Willie. I love the sentiment that arrogance sunk the Titanic, that God should get all the glory. Of course, another favorite is Dark Was the Night, though it’s been used in so many soundtracks it’s become old to me.” Then in terms of a favourite cover: “I don’t think anyone’s done a Blind Willie song better, but Cowboy Junkies came closest with Jesus Is Coming Soon from the God Don’t Never Change tribute album Alligator put out a couple years ago. I like Tom Waits’ version of Soul of a Man a lot, too. I wrote the liner notes, but it was more as an excuse to hit the road for more research. There’s not much out there to be found, so every little new bit of info is precious.”

For my own part, yes, Dark was the Night is an incredible performance by Johnson and the slide playing quite awesome. But Nobody’s Fault But Mine (“and that’s one of the few songs he recorded that he almost certainly wrote,” says Corcoran) is a song I always find remarkable, given Johnson’s circumstances of being blind, black and poor in the early decades of the last century in the American South. Life was unremittingly hard, so the sense of personal responsibility, despite all the adverse circumstances, is quite remarkable. But then, Willie Johnson is a quite remarkable man and musician, whose influence, as Michael Corcoran has emphasized for us, has been immense and still continues to this day.

[Check out our piece on the Blind Willie Johnson tribute album]

Thanks to Michael Corcoran for taking to time to discuss with me Texas music and Blind Willie Johnson.

Blues at the Crossroads Podcast: Episode 2 – Allison Russell on Songs of Our Native Daughters

Episode 2 of our podcast

Blues at the Crossroads.

It features a chat about Songs of Our Native Daughters, a stunning album by four women roots artists, Rhiannon Giddens, Allison Russell, Leyla McCalla and Amythyst Kiah, between Gary Burnett and podcast producer, Gemma Burnett, followed by an revealing interview with Bird’s of Chicago’s Allison Russell, in which she talks about the making of the album and her own family history.

“We had this kind of amazing experience of living together, working together, for twelve days and it was just kind of a creative explosion for each of us.”

Listen and subscribe here.

Larkin Poe talk blues, the soul of a song, and making authentic music

Larkin Poe are the Lovell sisters from Atlanta, Georgia. “I’m not Larkin, and she’s not Poe,” quipped Rebecca Lovell during their sold-out gig at Inchyra Arts Club near Perth, Scotland, where Lins Honeyman from the Gospel Blues Train and Gary Burnett from Down at the Crossroads had the opportunity to talk to these hugely talented artists.

Larkin Poe, actually, is an ancestor of the sisters and relative of the famed author Edgar Allan Poe. The pair launched the band in 2010 after a few successful years as a bluesgrass group along with their elder sister, Jessica, and have developed their own distinctive sound, a unique, blues-based Americana rock, which draws deeply on the well of traditional blues but adds their own very modern, high- energy take, featuring gorgeous harmonies and exhilarating electric slide guitar. American Songwriter said of them: “This isn’t your basic Stevie Ray Vaughan-styled blistering blues rock. It’s far more primal, malicious, and unsettling.” That’s true, but what’s also true is the warmth and good humour that’s folded in, which makes their performances massively appealing. [check out our review of their concert here]

The sisters have performed triumphantly at Glastonbury Festival in England, featured on T-Bone Burnett’s Lost Basement Tapes, been nominated for a Blues Foundation Award, and released four studio albums, the most recent of which, Venom and Faith, has reached number one on the Billboard Blues Album Chart and met with considerable critical acclaim.

Lins and Gary sat down with Megan and Rebecca prior to their gig to talk about the blues and their approach to making music, and found two highly articulate young women brimming over with enthusiasm for their music and life generally, and who had thought deeply about their musical heritage. Lins began by commenting on how well Venom and Faith has been received:

Rebecca: Oh yeah. I think this is one of the first tours that we’ve been out and folks are showing up really powering for the lyrics and a lot of the songs off the album. So in that respect it feels like it’s been well loved so far. We appreciate that!

Lins: Yeah, we’ve played quite few tracks on the show as well. And I know, Gary, it was certainly one of your best albums of 2018.

Gary: Yeah. We feature a “best of” album list at the end of every year. Venom and Faith definitely had to feature in our top few albums. It’s a great album, really, really good.

Rebecca: Thank you! We’re very proud of the way it came out. You know self-producing has been a fairly recent affair for us and it’s definitely been very natural. I think Megan and I enjoy the process of, you know, being siblings in the studio, just sort of allowed to have our own private language and to work really lean, mean and fast.

Megan: Absolutely. And Peach, our previous album to Venom and Faith was also produced by the two of us and we’ve just so enjoyed the freeing experience of it being just the two of us in the studio. It’s been so much fun to make these albums.

Lins: And being sisters, it must work for you and against you in certain ways?

Rebecca: Absolutely. I think that we have very limited experiences when it doesn’t work for us. Obviously having a sibling dynamic can be a very volatile and powerful relationship! I think it’s meant that over the years we’ve learned how to treat each other with respect and care, and, you know, I think of the Black Crowes who are not touring together because they have such big feuds and things like that, and we will not have that happen.

Gary: Well, tell us about the album’s title. It seems a little strange – Venom and Faith – conjures up for me strange religious sects handling snakes or something in the Appalachian hills!

Rebecca: Absolutely! That was that was part of the inspiration and it’s drawn from the lyrics of one of the tracks, Honey Honey. Yeah…I do like the juxtaposition of the two words and the fact that it does conjure up those images of a southern American Gothic type. Yeah, backwoods country church, where you’re sort of rolling the dice and…there is something, I think, in our music that summons up some of those sort of feelings. And, you know, some of the flavors of our music go from the dark to the light, tabbing some beautiful moments but also some grungy moments. So, it’s trying to represent that light and shadow, and Venom and Faith I felt was the right title.

Gary: Yes, it’s fabulous. And you’ve done some fantastic versions of old blues songs along the way – the Skip James song, Hard Time Killing Floor Blues on this album is probably the best cover of that song that I’ve heard. The Skip James version is very dark, but somehow, although you keep to the tradition, you manage to bring something fantastically fresh to it.

Skip James

Rebecca: That means so much! That is really one of our favorite songs that we’ve ever run across. We heard that song and we were just immediately obsessed, and the fact that it’s so modal, and major and minor, and it just it makes you feel a very specific way. And so we wanted to pay tribute to that.

Megan: And Skip James is one of the first blues guys that we really, really fell in love with. He’s definitely a mutual love of Rebecca and me.

Gary: And how do you go about choosing some of these old blues songs that you’ve done? You’ve done a few of them – some Son House and Robert Johnson and so on. How do you go about choosing and how do you go about interpreting a song?

Megan: I love this question. The answer to both those questions is kind of a gut feeling! Like, well we’ll stumble across a song that just feels right!

Rebecca: I think also it’s songs that we wish we’d written, like when you stumble across something that feels akin to something that you would have made up yourself. And so, then, the true nature of what the song should be or how we should interpret it – it just sort of feels like you’re rewriting it yourself. And to me that’s part of the beauty of American roots music – the fact that this is a very historic and, by American standards, ancient genre and yet you know there is so much shared feeling. The fact that it is one hundred years since the song was written means nothing. It still feels as relevant to us as it probably did to the people that were writing it. And so that’s really special.

Lins: And these songs, as you say, are ancient in American terms. But a hundred years is quite a sizable chunk between the original and doing a cover version. What makes these songs stand the test of time in your opinion? Because something must be great about those songs.

Rebecca: This is something Megan and I have talked about quite a bit – and that is, that the songs lyrically deal with matters of the human condition. You know, there is very little artifice in a lot of traditional blues tunes, just very raw emotions, very laid bare struggles of how to deal with your humanness, how to deal with sorrow, how to deal with being down and out. And I think that in our own specific ways, we can all relate to those feelings. So, to me, what really stands the test of time is a song that doesn’t deal too much with, you know, synthesizers or pop production, it really is about just the soul of the song.

Lins: Yes. It’s just getting down to the basics, isn’t it? It doesn’t mince its words. One such song which as far as I’m aware is not on any of your albums but I came across it on your Facebook feed, is a version of Blind Willie Johnson’s Soul of a Man. That was an incredible performance from the two of you. Any plans to put that on an album?

Megan: You never know! I guess it’s always unwritten and that that’s what’s exciting about the future.

Lins: And another song that we should mention – I think it’s from your Peach album – was John the Revelator and that recently got played at the end credits of the Fox TV series Lucifer.

Rebecca: It was very exciting! Again. I think it’s great to let these old songs, that have meant so much to so many people, have new lives in such unexpected ways. You know, I will admit though, we hadn’t watched the Lucifer TV show, and so of course we were hop-skipping into this one episode and telling our parents to watch it and not really knowing the premise of the show, and it’s a bit of a twisted kind of crazy show! But that was really fun. Just to see our music presented in this unexpected way.

Lins: It’s a great version as well. I mean, there have been so many versions of John the Revelator – every blues artist is probably done a version, but yours is up there!

Bessie Jones

Gary: I love the first song on Venom and Faith, Sometimes, the Bessie Jones song. The song sounds very up to date, but when you go back and listen to the original, with the clapping and so on, you’re tapping right into the whole spirit of that. What drew you to that song?

Rebecca: Well just the energy, I mean. And also, the power of her voice and the claps. It’s captivating, you know, and it’s a field holler, man, where you can feel the purpose of that song. And also, just wanting also to represent a Georgia girl – Bessie was from Georgia. And there was something we liked about that as well. It’s just a feel-good song.

Gary: Yeah, great song. I was also thinking about, you know, when we think of the blues we often think about the male artists, but of course in the history of the blues, the women were some of the biggest artists. And they’ve been ignored at times. How true is that still today – is it still difficult for women in this industry?

Rebecca: That is that is a complicated question with a complicated answer! And I think that different people would answer it in different ways. But I do think that you’re right, you know, historically women were absolutely the pioneers of blues and pop music, and they were some of the biggest pop stars of their time, at the turn of the century. And it does feel distinctly unfair that they are forgotten. That the role that they played in terms of pioneering the genre gets waylaid with time.

But, you know, we have had a very positive experience. I think that our parents raised us to kick the door down and do what it is that we want to do. And I think that that has served as well in the industry. Not willing to compromise. I mean, yeah you know, you can’t compromise who you are because that’s all you’ve got, right? Who said that? Janis – Janis Joplin. I like that’s all you’ve got, so you might as well just stick to your guns and by hook or by crook make the media that you want to make. And I think if more artists took that stand they’d be better – male or female.

Megan: Bottom line it’s hard to be in the industry, regardless of gender!

Rebecca: Yeah, and it’s so competitive. The music industry is so intensely competitive that you have to be willing to show up and work hard and be very tenacious. Extremely. Yes, so I think the short answer would be we haven’t felt our gender has had too much of a sway on our career thus far. And I think that that’s how it should be, that the art should speak for itself regardless of class, color, creed, gender, all the above. It should just speak to people and that should rise to the surface.

Lins: And what comes across is that the music is authentic – we’ve touched on that earlier on, that really with all your albums, the music comes across as being really, very real. Is that a specific thing in your head when you set out to record an album – that you’re gonna have to be as real as possible? Or does it not enter into your head and you just do it naturally?

Rebecca: No, it has entered our heads! I think that we have made records that we didn’t feel like they sounded like us. The studio can be a bit of a void sometimes. You can get in there and know who you are, but then technology allows you to try and create this hyper-perfect-ized robot version of yourself that’s auto tuned half to hell and everything’s grid aligned. And that doesn’t feel human anymore. And I think that we’ve made a distinct decision over these years to try and under-produce our records in order for the humanity in who we are as individuals to show through.

Megan: Which is part of the reason why we decided to self-produce because we definitely had that specific goal in mind. So, we knew going into it that we weren’t going to pick ourselves apart and that what we loved about discovering the blues was the raw nature of it and to try and keep some of that in the music. Leave the humanity in if possible.

Lins: And there are some great moments because you’ve also introduced some electronic elements later on the album which is great – just takes your kind of music into sort of a different level as well. Now, we’ve talked about our sort of favorite songs on the most recent album. What about yours?

Megan: Depends on the mood. But I’ve really, really enjoyed playing Bleach Blonde Bottle Blues every night. Because Rebecca brought that song very late in the recording process. In fact, I think it was written while we were in the studio. One of the last ones to show up and I just knew immediately when I heard that song it was gonna be one of my favorites. I was so excited to record it, so I would definitely put that as a top contender for me.

Rebecca: Thank you! I think that probably in terms of melding the old with the new, my favorite would have to be Fly Like an Eagle because that does feature a lot of the pop production. You know, we love Tom Petty – Tom Petty is one of the top pop guys ever, because he was a dude that could punch you straight out with a verse and then, bam, you’re into the chorus, and it’s that pop song structure. And I think that that’s been a big marker for us in wanting to do the blues, but also to marry it with more of a pop arrangement, and introduce, you know, a more modern-day sound palette, And Fly Like an Eagle was really fun – we’re from Atlanta, the home of hip hop, so you gotta throw it in!

Gary: But that’s the thing that I think is very appealing about your music. You’ve got this traditional blues underpinning, but you’re bringing the all these modern sorts of influences to bear. I was talking to Bruce Iglauer from Alligator Records recently and he was saying that what he looks for in an artist these days is that traditional base, but really bringing their own stamp to it. And it seems to me that you’ve really been able to do that these last couple of records.

Rebecca: Well I think just by not wanting to be in a time capsule is very important. Because there is zero, zero interest in us in being puppets of something that has already been. Because this is music that has been very real to people for a very real reason, and it served a very distinct purpose, and we don’t want to just piggyback off that. You know, we feel a deep respect for the blues and the masterful artists that pioneered the genre but we have to make it in our own way in order to, you know, not be talking out of our asses, pardon my French. But it’s true, you know, we’re growing up in the 21st century as white women and we want to be as authentic in that way with our own story as we can. Innovation is required!

Lins: Let’s talk about the guitar side of things. Megan, did you get it as a Christmas present as opposed to Rebecca, or how did you end up playing the slide? It’s an amazing sound and along with the voices, it’s what defines the Larkin Poe sound.

Megan: So yeah, we grew up listening to Alison Krauss and Union Station, and that’s of course featuring the legendary Jerry Douglas. So I definitely grew up with that kind of earworm. That sound in my head. And when we quit our classical violin lessons in our teens, we heard bluegrass for the first time and we decided we wanted to quit our classical lessons and hop over onto some acoustic instruments, y’know.

And I tried to play guitar and banjo and mandolin, but I guess me and fretted instruments don’t go well together! So I saw a dobro being played and that’s when I made the connection between the sound that I grew up listening to and what that instrument was. And it was dobro, so I start playing dobro, and later on when we started Larkin Poe, we wanted to experiment more with an electric sound.

Rebecca: So the lap steel just made sense, and kudos to Megan because you were, what 14 when you picked it up? It’s a very awkward instrument to play in just about every way, and the fact that you typically play it seated. And so Meghan, you’ve been very innovative in the way that you’ve repurposed slide – and she had this little contraption built so she can stand and walk around and rock out while playing the slide, and do it very effortlessly, especially considering just how challenging an instrument it is to play.

Megan: It’s not a very common instrument. I don’t know why, because it’s such a versatile instrument and it’s so expressive. What I love about it is the vocal quality of the instrument. I love to sing with Rebecca, I love to sing harmony. You know, we grew up singing harmony together, but I consider my voice to be the lap steel, not necessarily my actual voice!

Lins: And there’s something special when your voice intertwines with the lap steel, that’s just so much special.

Megan: It’s very fun. We certainly enjoy it especially a song like Good and Gone from the record. You know we so enjoy twinning together.

Lins: Fantastic. Excellent. It’s been a pleasure talking to you. Thank you!

Alligator Record’s Bruce Iglauer has been Bitten by the Blues

Luther Allison, Koko Taylor, Professor Longhair, Albert Collins, Johnny Winter, Elvin Bishop, Shemekia Copeland, Marcia Ball, Tommy Castro – just some of the star-studded cast of blues artists that Bruce Iglauer has worked with and have appeared on the record label he founded nearly fifty years ago.

Alligator Records has been a vital part of blues history over that period, and Iglauer has been at the forefront of promoting the blues, discovering new artists, and investing in the careers of established artists. He’s been a record company owner, record producer, record promoter, booking agent and tour manager along the way, as well as encourager and confidante to many of the Alligator artists, whom he counts as part of the family.

Bitten by the Blues is the story of Bruce Iglauer’s journey, the story of Alligator Records and, in many ways, the story of urban blues since the early ‘70s. It’s a hugely enjoyable insight into the world of the blues, the larger-than-life personalities of the artists, and what it takes to found and sustain a record label over several decades. When we spoke to Bruce Iglauer about the book, he told us:

“I didn’t want it to be for a completely specialized blues fan audience, and I certainly didn’t want it to be academic. I wanted to share my excitement about the music and the artists with a more general audience. I also thought/hoped that the business story (which was expanded at the request of our publisher, University of Chicago Press), would intrigue people who like this sort of American success story. Obviously the music that I love is quintessentially American, and it’s hard to imagine building a small business recording blues anywhere else. I just got an email from someone who was given the book and was inspired to start listening to the artists who were featured. If that’s the result, it’s a success!”

The book rips along at a nice pace and I found myself drawn in, wanting to know what happened next at every turn. It’s very detailed about incidents, people, dates and recording sessions, but these are part of a richly told story and contribute to a cohesive narrative. I did wonder, however, how Iglauer was able to remember everything. Maybe he kept a journal along the way?

“No,” he told me, “I just have a very good memory, at least for the most dramatic events of my career. In my life, I’ve been surrounded by very colourful and talented people and they made an indelible mark on me. It’s easy to remember talking with Howlin’ Wolf, because in my wildest dreams I never thought that could happen.”

Early in the book, he recalls traveling to Chicago in 1966 and hearing Mississippi Fred McDowell playing and he said it changed his life. I asked him why it had such an impact on him.

“That’s hard to explain. All I can say is that the music seemed so honest, so unvarnished, so direct, and it seemed like he was almost stripping himself naked emotionally. There was no pretence, no “show business.” He opened the door to his life and I was able to look in. Plus, he had probably lived a harder life than anyone I ever knew, and you could hear the strength that he got from living that live, and feel the wounds and the scar tissue. Blues is some of the happiest music on earth, but it’s happiness borne from overcoming pain, so the pain should be in the music too. That’s what I heard in Fred, though my response was a gut response, not an intellectual one. I felt this was music for me.”

The first band Iglauer signed and recorded, at a stage when he was a young blues fan in Chicago was Hound Dog Taylor and the House Rockers. He lovingly recounts his encounters with Hound Dog live performances and his subsequent first recording sessions. And he talks about the music being “infectious.” Which is maybe not the first word some people think of when they hear the word “the blues.”

But says Iglauer, “I think the easiest way to explain this is to listen to their music. It’s full of energy, danceable grooves, raw vocals, intense guitar—just the things that made early rock ‘n’ roll so appealing. And when they slowed it down, the catharsis that real blues engenders is right in front of the listener. And you can hear how much fun these three guys had playing together. If you can’t feel Hound Dog Taylor & The HouseRockers, and if they don’t make you smile, you’ve got a hole in your soul!”

Hound Dog Taylor

The story of Iglauer arriving in Chicago, working for Delmark Records in the basement of the Jazz Record Mart, and discovering the clubs and the artists who worked them, occupies the early chapters of the book and I wondered, what was it like, as a young white guy, a hippie, as Iglauer described himself, trying to engage with artists on the blues scene in Chicago in the 70s?

“Actually, not very difficult. The whole Chicago blues scene at the beginning of the ‘70s was on the South and West Sides of the city, and the audience was 99% black. The white people who came to the blues clubs were enthralled by the music and its creators. We weren’t neighbourhood people dropping in for a beer. We were fans. These were mostly not famous musicians, and they were pleased to have fans, especially ones who came to clubs that were in parts of the city that might be perceived as hostile to them. After I became a “record man,” there was a certain amount of suspicion of me, but when it became known that I paid royalties and welcomed musicians into my home (which was also my office), I was generally well accepted. Of course, I had to learn to speak with a Mississippi accent!”

As well as a music story, Bitten by the Blues is also a riveting story about business start-up and development, and, as with any business, you not only need a good product, you need good marketing and a huge dollop of hard work. I loved the account of Iglauer’s tenaciousness when he was trying to promote his first Alligator recordings – having signed the artist and overseen the recording and production, he drives to various radio stations in different cities to ensure radio play and doggedly contacts magazine journalists – hugely time-consuming, but the sort of effort that serious marketing requires. He carefully thought through his target audience and how best to reach them (at that time progressive rock radio, rock-oriented publications) and he was the first person marketing blues to that audience specifically.

“I also had to learn the existing ‘ropes’ – working with distributors, working with retailers, collecting money, dealing with financial issues, etc. A lot of it was my refusal to give up, and my willingness to work almost every moment. I never did learn engineering, though. I always found engineers who could hear like I do.

“As far as my “early success,” my success was pretty much just with Hound Dog. I sold enough Big Walter Horton albums to break even, and Son Seals, a complete unknown, was a money-loser for me. Still, part of the reason for my money-losses was that I was manufacturing and giving away literally thousands of promo LPs to radio, press and for in-store play. I could have had a much more modest label, but then I never would have reached the audience I was going after.”

One of the artists whom Bruce eventually signed was Luther Allison, but his history with Allison went all the way back pre-Alligator and he recounts a fascinating incident about trying to get Allison to sign an agreement for a new album with Delmark, which Allison declined to do. In the book, Iglauer said “I was unable to forgive Luther.” And it wasn’t until 20 years later that that relationship was repaired. I wondered about that…

“I was very hurt by Luther’s not being honest with me and leaving me so vulnerable. I could have, and probably should have, lost my job at Delmark because of him. I’m glad we made up but I never forgot what he did to me because he was just looking out for himself. It always kept some distance between us. I was happy to work with him but we didn’t become real friends. Still, people change and I accept that he was a different man in the 1990s than he was in the early 1970s.”

As I considered the colourful history of Alligator Records and Iglauer’s leadership over many years, I asked him if he had any regrets, looking back.

“Obviously, failing to hear the originality in Stevie Ray Vaughan and Robert Cray, both of whom I could have signed, makes me kick myself. Mostly, even though I’m a risk-taker, I’m sorry I didn’t take more risks on more unknown or developing artists, even though I’ve had plenty of failures (when I say failures, I mean financial failures, not artistic failures, though I’ve had some of them too) with unknown artists. Some worked out well, like Son Seals and Saffire – The Uppity Blues Women and Selwyn Birchwood. Some didn’t, like Michael Hill’s Blues Mob and Corey Harris. Many were mixed results. But I’m very proud of the quality of music on Alligator, and I hope it will stand for decades to come.”

As I read this roller-coaster history, I wondered if the young Bruce Iglauer knew then what he knows now of what was to transpire over the years, all the ups and downs, would he have done what he did?

Authors Iglauer & Roberts

“For sure (though I would have done it better!). There are other people who could have done what I have done with the blues, but no one else chose to do so and was able to combine musical and business and marketing skills in the way I have. There are other excellent producers, other smart business people and certainly there are better marketers than I am.  And many of those people would expect or hope to make more money than I ever thought about making. I’m very greedy, but my greed isn’t for money. It’s for being in the studio when a timeless recording is made, or in the audience when an Alligator artist makes that soul-to-soul connection with the listeners, or bringing a good arrangement idea to a rehearsal or encouraging an artist to write a fresh original song. The feelings I get in those situations are way better than money!”

One of the most hair-raising incidents in the book is the story about a train crash in Norway in 1978, during a Son Seals tour of Europe. I’ll not spoil the story for you – read the book! – but suffice it to say, thanks to the efforts of Iglauer and band members, nobody died.

Bruce told me, “It’s the only time in my life I’ve ever been brave; I was pretty sure I was going to die and I wanted to know that I had done the right thing. I could have escaped the train car but not without trapping the other passengers. I wasn’t willing to do that. I had always known since my father’s death that life is very fragile and there are no guarantees for the future. So, accomplishing something every day is necessary.”

Talking of accomplishments, what, I asked him, does he consider his greatest achievements?

“I can’t easily determine which things I’ve done have the most importance or are ‘the greatest’. I feel that Alligator (both myself and my great staff of 14) has been a crucial force in moving the blues forward and developing careers for many worthy artists. Of course that only happens with the artists’ talent and a huge amount of effort on their part. But the most important thing I can do is to assure that the blues will have new artists and new audiences in the future. That’s a continuing goal.”

Although he missed one or two opportunities to sign world-class artists along the way – Stevie Ray Vaughan was a case in point: “I couldn’t hear what made him special,” Bruce admits in the book – Alligator has had more than its fair share of top-class blues artists. What does Iglauer look for in an artist when he is thinking of signing them?

“First, passion. I want to feel the music is pouring from the deepest place inside the musician and that “it’s in him and it’s got to come out” (to quote John Lee Hooker). Originality – does the artist have something fresh to say, or a fresh way to say it? Blues is a traditional music, but you can’t impress me just by doing something that’s already been done. Take the tradition and make your own personal statement from it. Then I look for professionalism – can this person lead a band? (Not the same skill as making music with a band). Are they already advancing their own careers, at least by gigging locally and regionally? Are they capable of national/international touring? Do they have their personal lives together? Do I see a potential for them to continue to grow as artists? And do I feel I can work with them as people? But ultimately it’s a ‘gut’ thing. If it moves me, I’ll often take a chance, whether it’s Son Seals or Lindsay Beaver or Toronzo Cannon or Michael Hill.”

Towards the end of the book, Iglauer discusses the recent developments in the music industry – from CDs to downloads to streaming, and the fact that many of Alligator’s former indie label competitors have given up on the blues. What hope is there, I enquired, for independent labels these days?

“The role of labels, indie and major, keeps changing. However, the reality is that though many artists can afford to record their own music now, and make it available on the Internet and on various streaming and download services, there is little to push listeners to discover their music. The role of the labels can still be to bankroll the recording – which many artists need. The “you can do it yourself on your computer in Dad’s garage” is not a reality for people who can’t afford a computer or software and who don’t have a Dad or a garage, i.e. really poor people). And to create media excitement, get songs on streaming service playlists, help create live performance events, and of course also to manufacture and distribute physical CDs or LPs and get them places like Amazon and into existing stores – for that you need a real label with real distribution and marketing.”

And an active online presence is a vital part of this, using an artist’s website, online marketing, and social media.

Says Iglauer, “A few of the older, better-established artists can get away with not much online presence. For anyone on the way up, using any and every online marketing /communication form is absolutely necessary. First, a website that includes every upcoming date, a well-written bio, downloadable good quality photos and maybe a downloadable poster. Lots of Facebook presence. Post photos with fans all the time. Write about upcoming gigs. Even non-musical things….one of my artists did a FB Live from his kitchen while cooking his favorite dish. The artists must be available to their fans 24/7/365 or they appear to be assholes. I don’t know how anyone has a chance to write a song anymore, they’re so busy responding to online communication or Instagramming photos. But it’s all necessary.”

At the end of the book, Iglauer says, “As I get older and the blues move further from the mainstream of popular music, my mission of bringing forward the key artists of the next generation of blues seems ever more vital.” I wondered how confident he was that this can be done? Is blues now just music for old white people?

Selwyn Birchwood (photo: Allison Morgan)

“I am both confident and concerned. I need to find artists who are rooted in the blues tradition with just copying what’s been done before. Recently we’ve signed 20-year-old Christone “Kingfish” Ingram, and just-over-30 Selwyn Birchwood is working on his third Alligator album. Lindsay Beaver, a recent signing, is 33. But regardless of the artist’s age, I want to hear an artist who has a vision for making blues more contemporary, both in the lyrics and in the musical form. I’d like to hear someone making a real synthesis of blues and hip-hop. I’d like someone exploring new chord changes and song structures for blues, but still incorporating the emotions and the blue notes that are intrinsic to blues. I’m sure that humans need the intense catharsis that the blues (at its best) can stir, and the soul-soothing quality of the blues. But can I find the artists who can convey those things in a way that the modern audience (and the future audience) will feel and understand? I’m not sure, but it’s my mission.”

Bitten by the Blues is a well written and utterly engaging insight into how Alligator grew from a standing start into the largest independent blues record label in the world, with hugely entertaining stories of record deals, live performances, studio recording and the lives of important blues artists. If you’re a blues or roots music fan, or a music fan interesting in a behind the scenes look at the history of the music industry, or have an interest in the story of true entrepreneurship, then Bitten by the Blues is a must-read.

Bitten by the Blues, Bruce Iglauer and Patrick A. Roberts, Chicago Press.