This question has been floating around my mind for the past couple of weeks, and in an apparent moment of pure synchronicity, Matt Briggs left a comment on the “Tunes in the kitchen” post from a while back about jug bands. As a type of music, country blues has been largely defined by solo singer/guitarists. There are some compelling reasons for this - the early commercial successes for country blues and the musicians who defined the style and rightfully continue to do so today were almost all guitarists. This may, quite possibly, have been the result of a kind of myopia of the nascent recording industry - their assumption may very well have been that a solo singer/guitarist was more ‘old-time’ and probably tended to specifically target those musicians when looking for talent. Certainly, some of the early ad-copy accompanying Blind Lemon Jefferson’s records attest to his appeal as a “down home” artist.
Even more so, later fans cemented those definitions by zeroing in specifically on the largely fingerpicked guitar accompaniment of those musicians, to the exclusion of other textures.
What about country blues in the context of a band? You have The Baxter Bros., The Mississippi Sheiks, The Mississippi Mud Steppers, Mississippi Blacksnakes, The Blue Boys, The Down Home Boys, The Beale Street Sheiks, Sleepy John Estes and his groups… later on, you had the early Chicago ensembles (not so much a fan of those), piano/guitar duos and harmonica/guitar duos. Country blues played by groups seems to have been around… just maybe under the radar of the folks who controlled the recording industry, for the most part, and later fans who were deaf to them. We’re lucky to have what we have, but who knows how much else was out there, or how much more the Baxter Bros. or Prater & Hayes (The Blue Boys) might have recorded? Even so, it’s a shame that some of these names remain obscure to fans of country blues. Butch Cage and Willie Thomas, anyone?
There was also a craze for “Jug Bands” around the same time period. Many of these of the period were fantastic musicians and produced wonderful music: Cannon’s Jug Stompers, Jack Kelly’s South Memphis Jug Band, The Birmingham Jug Band, Whistler’s Jug Band, The Memphis Jug Band. Today, almost any country blues played by a groups gets described as “jug band music” - this is probably less of a representation of the early styles than a reflection of the tendencies of revivalists from the 60s. “Jug Band Music” has become a style of its own, complete with groups that seem to feature 18 guitarists with propeller beanies singing “Stealin’” - oh, and a jug. Maybe a slide guitar, too.
I dunno what to call what I play, but it sure ain’t “jug band music.”
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I fully intended to make the next post to the blog something other than a YouTube post, but, well…. never mind. Life can take a pretty brutal toll, and music lightens the load.
Okay… this video stuff is weirdly seductive for some reason. Here’s a tune from the Mississippi Sheiks. There are tunes they do where the accompaniment is more straightforward and the guitar clearly takes a backup role relative to the voice and the fiddle. In Livin’ In A Strain, the division of labor isn’t so clear - the voice definitely drives the tune, but Lonnie’s fiddling seems to move in and out of Walter’s vocal and fingerpicked guitar accompaniment. It’s definitely not straight backup as I’m predisposed to think of it. It’s got texture, I think:
What could be more fun?
The Girl I Love Got Long Curly Hair
The Jazz Fiddler
Black Mattie
Too Long
He’s got the touch, the timing, and most important - the laugh. Jonestown is one of my absolute favorite songs and maybe I’ll be able to wear it the same way Gus does some day - like an old jacket that gives in just the right spots. I haven’t played any banjo in months, and just picked this tonight to take a break from other stuff I’ve been working on with Kim.
The lyrics to Gus’s original recording, as Banjo Joe:
Jonestown - Banjo Joe (Gus Cannon)
Said I left Lula, going to Jonestown
Man, I left Lula, going to Jonestown
Those Jonestown browns, boy, make you turn your damper down
I cried Jonestown, boy, too small a burg for me
I cried Jonestown, man, too small a burg for me
Said I left Jonestown, boy, going back to Tennessee
Said, I got to Memphis, I laid my banjo down
Well I got to Memphis, I laid my banjo down
I got full of my good whiskey, my good gal made me clown
Said, I left Memphis, going back to Jonestown
Well man, I left Memphis, going back to Jonestown
Said them good old browns, boy, sure has made me [clown]
spoken: Play it a long time, boy
spoken: Hush now, banjo
This is coming kinda late, but over Thanksgiving, Kim and I got a chance to meet W.B. Reid and Bonnie Zahnow. They were in the midst of a coast to coast tour, having just finished up in New York City at Banjo Jim’s, visiting with family, and then on their way to points south and west. They are both totally sweet people and excellent musicians. They do have a new CD out - “Poca River Blues,” which includes the tune of the same name (by Jarvis & Justice) as well as other songs and tunes that represent a wide cross-section of old-time styles. Everything is impeccably played, as you might expect, and they have great taste in tunes.
Of course, we didn’t take any pictures (duh!), but we did play a bunch of tunes together… it’s a totally special thing to be able to call out “We Both Are Feeling Good Right Now” and not have to explain anything about it… not the key, not the changes, not the fact that it has a little intro verse that never repeats… just play! Woohoo!
Jazz? Maybe not precisely, but it’s good enough for me. To the extent that you may be a regular visitor to this site, you may have noticed that I’m a nut for the Mississippi Sheiks. They were a sophisticated group of musicians and certainly leaned, in a general sense, toward the pop sounds of the day. Their song “The Jazz Fiddler” was recently featured on the Old Hat Compilation “Folks, He Sure Do Pull Some Bow.” Interestingly, I’ve been asked in a couple of comments and emails about this song, so I thought I’d make a post about it.
“The Jazz Fiddler” was recorded on the 17th of February, 1930 in Shreveport, Louisiana and was listed on the record as being played by Walter Jacobs and Lonnie Carter. To my ear Walter Vincson (Jacobs) is clearly singing to his own guitar accompaniment and Lonnie Chatmon’s (Carter) fiddling. The song was recorded during the same session that produced “Sitting On Top Of The World” and “Stop And Listen.” One interesting thing to note about this session is that the recordings are pitched flat for the entire session, anywhere from one to three half-steps low. Some of this may have been mechanical in nature, but it appears to me that they must also have been tuned somewhat low, maybe to accommodate Walter’s voice, or simply because everything sounded better to them when tuned lower. There is absolutely no reason to suppose that musicians who played vernacular music on stringed instruments must have been tuned to some absolute standard. Anyone who says so clearly has an ulterior motive and cannot possiby be trusted!
At any rate, the song is played out of B-flat, both on the guitar and the fiddle. While this may sound outlandish to current day country blues fans who were weaned on Mississippi John Hurt (not that there’s anything wrong with that), as a group the Sheiks leaned toward flat keys and B-flat was clearly one of their favorite keys. The chords for the song are:
I was up strangely early this morning, got breakfast for the kids, spent some time wandering around on youtube and found a couple clips by North Carolina musician Lightnin’ Wells. A lot of the country blues on youtube treads some familiar ground so it was great to find a clip of him covering a Louie Lasky tune… anybody that plays Louie Lasky is ok in my book.
Lightnin’ Wells - How Do You Want Your Rollin’ Done?
I’ve been in a Lemony mood… not really listening to him so much as thinking about him. What a giant of a singer - sure, he played great guitar. No argument from me, there. It’s all secondary to that voice. It’s powerful, sensitive, expressive - all the things a blues voice should be. Maybe even could be. For crying out loud, he’s so good that it’s almost senseless to try and point to a specific example - just about any of the songs he recorded make his greatness clear, even if other aspects of the song aren’t quite up to snuff. That being said, his Prison Cell Blues has got to be a masterpiece by just about any standard - it’s perfectly rendered, a familiar 8-bar blues, yet with a twist. The melody is simple and moving, and his performance is utterly flawless.
So why, why would I try to sing a song so totally perfect? Why would I hold myself up to such a ridiculously high standard? Let’s face it - I just don’t stand a chance! It’s like Mickey Mouse playing at being a sorcerer - danger, buddy… all that stuff just looks easy. The truth is, I couldn’t not play it. I couldn’t not sing it. I was singing it in the car, in the shower, on line at the grocery store, in the hall at work…
This is just an exorcism - and an excuse to play the 12-string. Yes, I probably should have sung it in a higher register. If I get real ambitious (don’t hold your breath), maybe I’ll work it out in another key so I can still use the 12.
The lyrics to Lemon’s original are included below:
Blind Lemon Jefferson will probably always be my favorite blues singer. He’s got a great sense of timing, both musically and verbally, as this song bears out. When people think of great riffs in country blues, Lemon probably does spring to mind, but more likely for tunes like Rabbit Foot Blues. I submit this tune - the lick he plays at the 10th fret under the opening verse is an absolute killer, and totally economical. Musically, the song has a lot in common with one of the songs Lemon recorded early in his career, Got The Blues, but is less “showy,” and more rhythmic. The lyrics are also more closely tied to a particular theme, which is consistent with his later recordings.
As a picture of almost total domestic dysfunction, this tune cracks me up.
blind_lemon_jefferson-that_crawlin_baby_blues.mp3
That Crawlin’ Baby Blues - Blind Lemon Jefferson
Little baby crying, well, what do his mama mean*
Little baby crying, what do his mama mean
He’s crying about his sweet milk, and she won’t feed his [jersey] cream
Crawled from the fireplace and [he] stopped in the middle of the floor
Well, he crawled from the fireplace, stopped in the middle of the floor
Said, “Mama ain’t that your second daddy, standing back there in the door?”
Well, she grabbed my baby, spanked him, I tried to make her leave him alone
Says [I] grabbed my baby , spanked him, I tried to make her leave him alone
I tried my best to stop her, she said the baby ain’t none of mine
Some woman rocks the cradle and I declare she rules her home
Woman rocks the cradle, I declare she rules her home
Many a man rocks some other man’s baby, the fool thinks he’s rocking his own
Well [at] late last night when I learnt the crawling baby’s news
I say it was late last night when I learnt the crawling baby’s news
My woman threw my clothes outdoors, now I got the crawling baby blues
* I’ve always understood this line to mean “A little baby crying, that treats his mother mean” - as borne out by the next verse. Never could make out the last part of the first verse - Jersey cream? I dunno…