Rock Music Genres – The Blues – pt1 – Rural Mississippi.

Robert Johnson Son house

The blues started off in the Deep South of America, in the rural regions of Mississippi, Louisiana, Texas and Alabama. The first recorded mention was by W.C. Handy, a bandleader who was waiting for a train in Tutwiler Mississippi. He recalled seeing a man playing a guitar using a knife on the frets and singing.

I visited that station and sat on the bench. It was hot, humid and sultry. I could imagine.

The blues developed out of African rhythms on European instruments. In those early days there were no drums. Drums were banned. It was widely believed that the African Slaves could talk and organise through their drumming.

The deep South and particularly the fertile Mississippi delta , was the place for big plantations growing cotton, soy bean and corn. They used black slaves brought over from Africa.

The blues probably developed as a music form around 1900. It went on to become the basis of Jazz and Rock ‘n’ Roll and is still developing today.

People think of the blues as being sad. The romantic view is that it expresses the melancholy of the oppressed black slaves. That is far from the full picture. The blues covers a wide spectrum of styles and uses. It was used in the fields to entertain and create rhythm for manual work. A lot of the blues shouts come out of this. It was used as dance music at the jukes and was lively and bright. It was used as entertainment in the brothels and bawdy houses where boogie-woogie piano developed. It was used for busking on street corners or performances in inns. It was also used to express emotion and feeling. It was even used to express sexuality, full of earthy expressions and double entendres. Rarely was there any overt political or social comment, at least not in the recorded versions. Given the oppressive circumstances, lynchings and activities of white supremacist groups such as the Klu Klux Klan this was hardly surprising.

A number of the early exponents were disabled in some way. If you were blind, legless or handicapped you had no way of earning a living. Music gave you an opportunity.

The early exponents were people like Texas Alexander, Blind Lemon Jefferson, Charlie Patton, Kokomo Arnold, Peg Leg Howell, Tommy Johnson and Bo Carter.

Bo Carter specialised in the use of double entendre. White society was very puritanical and a lot of his stuff would have been quite shocking. Charlie Patton was an early Hendrix. He’d play the guitar behind his back, through his legs and back to front. Tommy Johnson had a trick of doing handstands on the guitar while playing. The object of the showmanship was to attract a big audience. They’d vie with each other on street corners.

By the 1930s the style had reached its peak. The great Son House (A leading exponent of the national steel guitar using bottle-neck), who I saw perform in 1968, taught Robert Johnson how to play. Robert, who was poisoned in 1937 at the age of 23, had perfected a style that was intricate, melodic and poetic. His songs went on to form the backbone of everything that followed.

I visited all three of Robert’s graves and paid homage.

I had the privilege of talking to Dave ‘Honeyboy’ Edwards who was with Robert on the night he got poisoned. He told me which of the three was the real one. It is the one at the back of the church.

It makes you wonder what might have been – if Robert had gone on to live and produce music of such quality the world would have been all the richer. It wasn’t to be and all we have left is thirty seven tracks recorded in hotel rooms on portable equipment over three sessions. They are scintillating.

Look what came out of them!

Robert Johnson – Opher’s World pays tribute to a genius.

 

Robert JohnsonRobert was the Big Bang from which the universe of Rock Music expanded. It all goes back to those two sessions in hotel rooms in San Antonio and another in Dallas. That’s all we have.

Robert was an itinerant busker. He wrote songs, performed in inns, at parties and BBQs and toured round Mississippi and the surrounding States. He was taught to play by Son House and went off and perfected a style that is so complex that people still wonder how he managed to make those chords and play so fast. He was a master. This is the blossoming of talent that led to the myth of him selling his soul at the cross-roads. I visited the cross-roads where that is reputed to have happened. I didn’t see Satan there or the ghost of Robert Johnson but it did fill me with wonder. I was walking in his shoes even if it did not happen like in the mythology. Robert perfected a style that went on to feed into Rockabilly, electric Chicago Blues and everything that came afterwards.

Those 29 tracks, with a number of re-recordings, make up the entire legacy. But what an incredible set of songs. The voice was clear with good diction, it had strength and emotional intensity, the guitar was spectacular, the lyrics were incredibly poetic and full of imagery, and the music sensational. This was the essence of Mississippi Blues. He was the master exponent and he was only in his twenties. There must have been so much more. He probably had a lot more that he did not get to record at the time. He probably had a large number of songs that he included in his repertoire for public performance. Those roving musicians were entertainers and did anything to please a crowd. They performed a lot of popular songs and did not restrict themselves to the Blues. It would have been great to hear some of those performed by a performer of Robert’s stature.

He recorded those tracks facing the wall. There is conjecture as to whether this was a symptom of shyness at being alone with a White man at the recording or whether he was merely using the wall to bounce and magnify the sound of the guitar. It’s all conjecture. All we know is that the quality of those recordings is exceptional given the jerry-rigged nature of the circumstances and crude machinery used to record them.

Robert was murdered in 1937 at the age of twenty seven. I talked to Dave ‘Honeyboy’ Edwards about this and he claims to have been with him on that night. They were playing together in a tavern/juke-joint near Greenwood in Mississippi and Robert had been infuriating the Landlord by making eyes at his wife. He had quite a reputation as a ‘ladies man’. Finally the Landlord put strychnine rat poison in some whiskey and passed it to the two of them. Dave declined. Robert drank it. Later that night he developed great stomach cramps and had to be helped back to his digs. Everyone thought that he would be alright in a couple of days but he died.

This murder was a tragedy in many ways. Not only did it deprive us of a wealth of other material that might well have been just as brilliant; it also deprived us of ever getting to see such a genius as Robert perform – though I was lucky enough to see Son House perform and he was the person who taught Robert.  Sadly John Hammond came along in 1938 to track down Robert Johnson to perform at Carnegie Hall as part of his ‘From Spirituals to Swing’ concert. He found that Robert was dead. Just think what might have happened if Robert had received that type of exposure? He might have become a household name and had an even bigger impact on Rock Music. His replacement was Big Bill Broonzy. I might have got to see him play? It was not to be.

I went to visit all three of Robert’s graves. There was just as much confusion over this as there has been over his talent, life and death. Dave ‘Honeyboy’ Edwards said that it was definitely the one at the back of the church.

Those twenty nine tracks have resonated down through the decades to reappear in form after form. This was the seminal music of Rock ‘n’ Roll. I suppose we should be grateful we had anything at all. Those recordings are more precious that diamonds, gold and platinum. They altered the world.

Sometimes you get a fulcrum point and someone causes a change that shifts everything. Robert was one of those.