Blues History
from the pages of the BluesNotes
One important part of the Cascade Blues Association's charter is to help educate the public on the history of the blues. Almost every month we publish an article in our monthly newsletter, the BluesNotes, that documents the bygone days of the blues. Those articles are indexed here for your reference and enjoyment.
Bill "Jazz" Gillum
Written by Terry Currier Tuesday, 30 June 2009 20:52
By: Terry Currier
Article Reprint from the April 1998 BluesNotes
In the January [1998] issue of BluesNotes, I wrote about the history of Victor's Bluebird label. One of its most recorded, yet least remembered, artists was a harmonica player named Bill "Jazz" Gillum.
William McKinley Gillum was born September 11, 1904 in Indianola, Mississippi. His parents, Irving Gillum and Celia Buchanan, both died when he was still a baby. His uncle, Ed Buchanan, took Gillum and his brothers in to raise them. As a result of Ed being a church deacon, Bill had the opportunity to learn to play the harmonium, better known as a pump organ, which worked with forced air. Young Gillum picked up on it quickly and soon went on to learn the harmonica, which was basically a small and portable version of the pump organ.
Gillum and his brothers were unhappy with the way their uncle treated them and they all ran away from home before Bill was eight years old. He ended up living with relatives in Charleston, Mississippi, but he ran away from there when he was eleven. He ended up in Minter City and found work as a field hand. After working three years in the fields, Gillum found work at a drug store in nearby Greenwood. When he finished work at the drug store, he often played his harmonica on the streets for tips.
Like many others who labored hard in the fields in the South, Gillum left Mississippi (in 1923) and went to Chicago. Many new opportunities were opening up in the larger northern cities such as Detroit and Chicago. It seemed like the answer to all his problems. Over the next 10 years, Gillum worked many jobs and occasionally played in the clubs at night. One of the musicians he played with was Big Bill Broonzy Broonzy was now a studio musician and talent scout for the label and he brought Gillum to the attention of the A&R man, Lester Melrose. Bluebird was a new division of Victor Records. Victor Records formed Bluebird in order to put out less expensive recordings of Jazz and Blues records because of sliding sales during the Depression. Gillum recorded two sides for Bluebird in 1934, but since neither side generated any sales, it looked like the end of Gillum's relationship with Bluebird.
Then, in January 1936, (a year and a half after the first Bluebird session), a British A&R man named Rex Palmer asked Bluebird if Gillum could record for the Regal Zonophone label. Bluebird responded with a letter stating that they did not have Gillum under contract, nor were they going to put out recordings by him in the future. Palmer again wrote to Bluebird because he wanted Gillum to record songs from musicals, such as the type found in Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire movies.
Bluebird responded with a letter that Gillum was Black and unable to read music and this would be an impossible task. As it turned out, the interest by Palmer lit the fire under Bluebird and they again recorded Gillum two days before they sent their last letter to Palmer.
Gillum cut some sides for Vocalion in 1940 and he recorded 65 sides for Bluebird up to 1942. Then during World War II, there was a shortage of shellac and J.C. Patrillo, President of the American Federation of Musicians ordered a ban on all recordings.
Gillum joined the Army in 1942 and served until 1945. About a year later, Bluebird came back to life anticipating that the Patrillo Ban would be lifted. However, it was another year before that happened.
When Gillum got out of the Army, he went right back to playing and recording, but he still found it necessary to supplement his income by doing various day jobs. He recorded another 34 sides for Bluebird. In 1950, Victor ceased their Bluebird label operation because of the many new, independent labels that were entering the "race records" arena with the new sound of Blues.
In Chicago, with the new breed of musicians, such as Muddy Waters, there was no longer a demand for Gillum's playing or recordings.
During the 1950s, Gillum was like the invisible man on the Chicago music scene. Then, in 1961, Memphis Slim rediscovered Gillum and recorded him for both the Candid and Folkways labels. Even with the new, young white audiences now propelling a renaissance of the older Blues players, his career did nothing. Mike Bloomfield wrote a book about his travels with Big Joe Williams, and writes where they visited Gillum in 1962. It was 95 degrees outside and Gillum was inside his house, in front of his stove, with a coat on. His mental and physical condition declined rapidly. He managed to play a few dates at the Fickle Pickle in 1963, but that was the end of his public performing.
On March 29, 1966, during an argument, he was shot in the head and was pronounced dead on arrival at Garfield Park Hospital in Chicago. He is buried at Restvale Cemetery in Worth, Illinois.
Recently, a reissue of Gillum's early Bluebird recordings (1934-1938) was put out by RCA Records. It contains 22 tracks with Big Bill Broonzy playing guitar on all of them. In addition, Blind John Davis, Washboard Sam, and other top notch Bluebird session musicians play on various songs. It is a great documentation of Gillum. You can hear his Mississippi roots, along with his own unique and distinctive style. Hopefully, we will see a second volume to this collection soon. In the meantime, don't miss this fine collection!
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Fenton Robinson
Written by Terry Currier Tuesday, 30 June 2009 20:52
By: Terry Currier
Article Reprint from the May 1998 BluesNotes
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| Fenton Robinson |
In the 1950s, Chicago became the city of opportunity for Southern blacks who wanted to get away from plantation farm work. It was also an escape from prejudice and bigotry. Chicago offered a chance for a new life and a better opportunity to fulfill their dreams. Many musicians migrated there and the Chicago Blues scene quickly evolved. Before long, it became the new capitol of the Blues.
Post World War II Blues music was met with electricity. Acoustic Blues took a back seat — especially in Chicago. Muddy Waters, Sonny Boy Williamson (Alex Miller), and Chester Burnett (Howlin' Wolf) were some of the musicians making names for themselves in Chicago. If a person wanted to be a movie actor, it made sense to move to Hollywood. By the end of the 1950s, it made sense for young, black musicians to migrate to Chicago, and Fenton Robinson was one who did.
Born in Greenwood, Mississippi on September 23, 1935, Fenton grew up on a cotton and corn plantation. He built his first guitar from an empty wooden cigar box and wire when he was 11 years old. He learned to play by listening to songs he heard on jukeboxes and radio shows such as the King Biscuit Show. The sounds of Texas guitarist T-Bone Walker were an early influence on Fenton.
Around 1951, Fenton bought a Stella acoustic guitar for $13. He went to Memphis, Tennessee to take lessons from one of the city's best, Charles McGowan. Two years later, he moved there. Memphis had a vibrant music scene and he wanted to try and make a go of it with his talents.
Fenton joined Charles McGowan's band, The McGowan Brothers, and they played backup for Bobby "Blue" Bland. He also joined a band called The Castle Rockers and toured the Southern juke joint circuit. The Castle Rockers' popularity increased when they played on radio station WDIA, but the band fell apart after being together for only one year.
Fenton moved to Little Rock, Arkansas in 1954 and formed his own band, Fenton Robinson And The Castle Rockers. They also toured the juke joint circuit. In 1956, Fenton got his first opportunity in the studio when Roscoe Gordon used him in a Duke Records session. The following year, he made his own record, "Tennessee Woman," for the Duke subsidiary Meteor Records. His mentor, Charles McGowan, was in the band.
In 1957, Fenton formed a musical partnership with guitarist Larry Davis. Fenton played guitar and Larry predominantly played bass. Bobby "Blue" Bland brought them to the attention of Duke Records owner Don Robey, who signed both of them to record deals. Fenton cut multiple sides for Duke, including an instrumental called "Freeze" that a young Albert Collins had shopped to Duke but Robey had turned down. As it turned out, the Collins version came out a few weeks before Fenton's, on the Kangaroo label, and Fenton's did not make much of an impact. Over the next couple of years, he cut many singles for Duke, including an amazing version of Peppermint Harris' "As the Years Go Passing By." Davis and a young piano player from New Orleans named James Booker played on Fenton's sessions. These three also played on Davis' session of his classic song "Texas Flood," which was later brought to life again by Stevie Ray Vaughan.
Chicago was calling, and in 1961, Fenton made the move. Feeling he had not reached his potential, Fenton enrolled in guitar lessons with Reggie Boyd, a talented studio musician and guitar teacher. Fenton picked up plenty of work playing as a sideman on recording sessions and playing gigs on the South side. His next solo recording session was in 1966 for the USA label; it was "Say You're Leaving Me" backed by "From My Heart To You." This was soon followed by "I Put my Baby In High Society" backed by "Rock Your Baby To Sleep" on the Giant label. These recordings had modest local success, but the following year, Fenton cut what would become known as his signature song, with B. B. King's band as his backing band. After "Somebody Loan Me A Dime" sold 150,000 copies locally, the Palos label was ready to promote the record nationally. Newly-pressed copies of the single were ready to be shipped around the country when a major snowstorm hit Chicago, and shipping was held up. When the storm was over, so was the interest in giving the record a national push. However, Fenton had already made a name for himself in Chicago.
The year was 1969 when ex-Steve Miller Band member Boz Scaggs released his first solo album. The song "Somebody Loan Me a Dime" appeared on it, with Duane Allman taking on the lead guitar lines. It was brilliantly played, but there was a major flaw: Boz Scaggs' name appeared on the writing credits instead of Fenton Robinson's name. It became a big hit for Boz, but Fenton was being robbed of his moment of fame, as well as the dollars that should have gone along with it. It resulted in a big legal battle, which Fenton eventually won. Fenton continued to record, and in 1968 he released a single for the Nashville-based Sound Stage / Seventy-Seven label. Then, in 1971, he recorded his first full-length album for them. He had hooked up with a rock backup band, and most of the lead parts were played by other people. Unfortunately, the album sounded horrible — and sales were horrible, too.
Fenton continued to tour with his band, and worked with the Charlie Musselwhite Band in 1971 and 1972. His saving grace came in 1974, after his contract with the Seventy-Seven label expired. It came in the form of Bruce Iglauer's newly formed Alligator Records. His Alligator debut marked just the fifth release for the label. It finally gave the rest of the world a chance to hear him play his signature song, "Somebody Loan Me A Dime" on the album of the same name. Fans and critics alike loved the album. It was soulful with an incredible horn-driven band backing him up. Both Fenton's vocals and guitar playing were at their best. It looked as if his career was going to take a positive swing. Then, a tragic incident occurred. He was convicted of involuntary manslaughter from a car accident that had happened in 1969. The publicity, as well as his jail term in Joliet Penitentiary, Joliet, Illinois did not help his career. However, he was released on parole after serving only nine months because of good behavior and the incredible amount of mail the parole board received from his fans.
In 1977, Fenton released "I Hear Some Blues Downstairs" on Alligator Records. This record was good, but it was not up to the standard of his previous effort — although a few gems did shine through. The resulting sales were unspectacular, also. Fenton continued to play live, mostly in the Chicago area. It was not until 1984 that he recorded again, releasing an album for the Dutch Black Magic label entitled "Blues In Progress," which Alligator picked up in the United States and re-titled "Nightflight." Like its predecessor, it had great moments, but lacked the magic found on the "Somebody Loan Me A Dime" album. Again, sales were disappointing and the end result was a parting with Alligator.
Black Magic recorded Fenton again for a 1989 release entitled "Special Road." It suffered the same results as his previous two albums. Anyone who had ever seen and heard him play live up to this point knew he had it in him to make a great, over-the-top record. He had a wonderful baritone voice, he could generate some stellar guitar playing, and he had the ability to write good songs. But the combination of these three elements were not always there at the same time when he was putting a song together in the studio. When they were, it was magic. When they weren't, it just didn't work.
Fenton still played on a regular basis in the 1990s. Most of his shows lived up to his reputation, but once in a while even his live shows were inconsistent. This inconsistency occurred in about 1994 at our own Portland Waterfront Blues Festival.
Fenton Robinson died on November 25, 1997 in Rockford, Illinois of complications from brain cancer. I never had the opportunity to see him play live after the Waterfront Blues Festival gig, and he never recorded again. The Japanese called him the "Mellow Blues Genius." If you listen to the wonderful "Somebody Loan Me A Dime" album from 1984, you will understand why he will surely be missed.
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Whistlin' Alex Moore
Written by Terry Currier Tuesday, 30 June 2009 20:51
By: Terry Currier
Article Reprint from the June 1998 BluesNotes
When you think of the Texas Blues scene, most likely you think of great guitarists. People such as Freddie King, T-Bone Walker, Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Johnny "Clyde" Copeland, Johnny Winter, Lightnin' Hopkins, Blind Lemon Jefferson - the list goes on and on. But, what about all those other men and women? What about the great vocalists like Angela Strehli, Big Mama Thornton, and Z. Z. Hill; horn players like Grady Ganies and Eddie "Cleanhead" Vinson; the kings and queens of the black and white keys such as Floyd Dixon, Katie Webster, and Charles Brown. And, let's not forget, another keyboard player, Alex Moore.
Alexander Herman Moore was born on November 22, 1899 in Dallas, Texas. He quit school to go to work when he was 11 because his father had died. He liked music and began learning to play harmonica. By the time he was 16, he was playing occasionally on WRR, a radio station in Dallas. The following year, he joined the U.S. Army.
After his release from the Army, Alex learned to play the piano. He once said, "When I was first listening to Blues music, a lot of colored cats played the piano. There were more piano players in North Dallas than anywhere in the United States." This gave him the opportunity to learn from watching some of them play. During this time, he delivered groceries to many white people's homes who owned pianos and he played on them whenever he could. In the early 1920s, he started taking his music more seriously and he began playing area houses, parties and bars. Alex cut his first sides for the Columbia record label in 1929 when their A&R people made their regular twice yearly visits to record Blues music.
The Depression of the 1930s hit. Alex managed to find work playing, but many Blues players were not so fortunate. The piano was an instrument that made the transition to the music of the 1930s easier than the harmonica and the guitar. Jazz took over the big time, and Blues music became just a shadow of what it had been during the 1920s golden decade of Blues. In 1937, he recorded for Decca Records in Chicago. Those sides did not do much and Decca did not ask him do any more.
For Alex, the 1940s were a mirror of the 1930s. He continued playing in lounges, clubs and bars -- from upscale supper clubs to Pam's striptease bar and dance lounge. Then, in 1947, he got his third chance in the recording studio on a small Dallas label called Highway. Like the others, these recordings did not do a lot to escalate Alex's career, but they did get played on many Texas juke boxes.
Then came the 1950s. He continued to play the Dallas nightclub and bar circuit, but took on more work outside music. His fourth time in the studio came in 1951 on yet another label, RPM / Kent. It was almost a decade before he recorded again. In 1960, he recorded sides for Decca and a complete album for Arhoolie. It was Chris Strachwitzs' Arhoolie label that finally took Alex's music out of Texas.
The next year, he appeared in the film "The Blues" and was also invited to play with the American Folk Blues Festival when they toured Europe. He toured with them again in 1969. Arhoolie released another album by him that year entitled "Alex Moore -- In Europe".
Alex turned 70 in 1969, but that did not stop him from playing. He continued playing the Dallas circuit well into the 1980s. There was a long lapse before he recorded again -- this time for Rounder Records in 1988.
In 1987, Alex received a Lifetime Achievement Award from the National Endowment For The Arts. This was a tremendous honor and one he truly deserved. Two years later, on January 20, 1989, Alex died in Dallas, Texas, the same town where he had been born. Although most of the country never had much of an opportunity to see him, he is a legend in the city of Dallas. As Paul Oliver wrote on the back of the first Arhoolie album, "He is a true original, a Folk Blues singer of the city who can sit at the piano and improvise endlessly piano themes and Blues verses that are sometimes startling, sometimes comic, sometimes grim, and very often pure poetry."
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Roy Buchanan
Written by Greg Johnson Tuesday, 30 June 2009 20:51
By: Greg Johnson
Article Reprint from the October 1998 BluesNotes
Sometimes it's funny how death can bring up images of enjoyable memories. Ten years ago, (in 1988) I was planning a trip to visit my sister, then living in Norfolk, Virginia, with a side trip planned for Washington, DC. While making our final preparations, I heard the news of the death of guitar player Roy Buchanan, at age 48. After being arrested in his hometown of Reston, Virginia, for public drunkeness, Buchanan was found in his cell hung with his own shirt; a fact that still raises question to this day. I found myself reaching for a Roy Buchanan recording the other day and instantly these memories returned. After listening for several moments, it suddenly came to my realization: it actually has been 10 years, almost to the day, that this unfortunate event transpired.
Buchanan had been playing professionally for well over a decade when he first decided to become a solo performer. At first he received unheard of accolades for any musician, let alone an artist who had only appeared as a backing musician for the cousins Ronnie and Dale Hawkins. A television story claimed him as "the best unknown guitarist in the world" and Rolling Stone Magazine heralded him as "one of the three greatest living guitarists." Tough credentials for anybody to live up to. But Buchanan could play in almost any style he aspired: Rock, Country, Gospel, Hillbilly or Blues. He was also a remarkably influential player, giving inspiration to future guitar wizards Robbie Robertson and Danny Gatton, among others. Word of his talent was widespread, as notables such as Les Paul and John Lennon sought to hear him play. It was also said that The Rolling Stones offered Buchanan a position in their band to replace Brian Jones in 1969.
Buchanan's luck seemed to give out right from the start. His debut recording, with guitarist/vocalist Charlie Daniels playing alongside, was panned by the critics upon hearing pre-release samples. Citing that the band moved too much between styles, the album was shelved and remains unreleased to this day. Buchanan's career seemed to see-saw throughout the 1970s. Though never a great singer, he was unquestionably touted for his guitar technique. He eventually called it quits towards the end of the decade, but was convinced to give it another go by Bruce Iglauer and the folks at Alligator Records four years later. Alligator worked around his vocal inability by teaming him with artists such as Delbert McClinton and Otis Clay. Still, his fate seemed unchanged and drug and alcohol problems, compounded with his seeming rejection by the critics, ultimately lead to that momentous arrest on that mid-August night in 1988. Speculation arose questioning why Buchanan would kill himself, but was quickly answered, when reviewing his life overall.
Buchanan left the world with a large selection of wonderful music. His guitar work does not seem aged a bit a decade later, and still can stand beside both today's Blues and Rock guitarists. Nice cover tunes of "Down By The River", "Turn To Stone" and "Green Onions" are brilliant displays of Buchanan's tasteful technique, as are originals like "The Messiah Will Come Again" and "Five String Blues". All of these are available on the wonderful two-CD release from Polygram entitled, "Sweet Dreams: The Anthology", as are four selections from the unreleased debut recording, "The Prophet". On Alligator, "Dancing on the Edge" with Delbert McClinton is exceptional, especially on the song "The Choking Kind". And, for those wishing for a glimpse of the guitarist on film, "Further On Down The Road'', with Albert Collins and Lonnie Mack, is a first-rate concert performance of the three masters live at Carnegie Hall, individually and together.
It is still hard to fathom that 10 years have passed since Buchanan's untimely demise. My memories will always bring up Washington, with his music providing the soundtrack in my mind. This is an artist whose career should not go overlooked. Masterful, precise, innovative and 10 years later he still sounds fresh and invigorating. Roy Buchanan deserves to be remembered; it is now time to truly appreciate the talent so often neglected during his lifetime.
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Henry "Ragtime Texas" Thomas
Written by Greg Johnson Tuesday, 30 June 2009 20:50
By: Greg Johnson
Article Reprint from the February 1999 BluesNotes
The year 1999 will mark what is believed to be the 125th anniversary of the birth of Henry "Ragtime Texas" Thomas. When Thomas first recorded for the Vocalion label in the late 1920s, he was already over 50 years old and most assuredly was the eldest African-American performer ever to lay down tracks considered Blues music at the time.
Thought to have been born in 1874 in Big Sandy, Texas, Henry was one of nine children by parents who were former slaves and sharecroppers raising cotton. Having a strong dislike for farming, Henry Thomas ran away from home as a teenager and struck upon the life of a hobo and street musician. He traveled by foot with his guitar slung over his shoulder or by the rails throughout most of Eastern Texas, occasionally making his way as far as Chicago. He was also believed to have performed at two World's Fairs crossing over the centuries, the 1893 Columbian Exposition in Chicago and the 1904 St. Louis World's Fair.
Living during the time of "Jim Crow" laws, Thomas had to be careful in his presentations and learned the popular music styles of the day to appeal to all audiences. When laying down his 23 recordings with Vocalion in Chicago between 1927 and 1929, his conglomeration of Reels, Gospels, Minstrel pieces, Ragtime numbers and Blues were considered to be prime examples of the earliest forms of African-American music. In fact, his Blues pieces are believed to date themselves possibly 30 years prior to the time that they were placed onto shellac, and are perfect documentations of Blues from the time of its birth. Many of these numbers Thomas wrote himself, others were derived from popular ballads of the time.
Thomas was somewhat of a one-man band and a self-taught musician. Besides playing the guitar and singing in his baritone register vocals, he also accompanied himself with the pan pipes which he played from a rack strapped around his neck. The pan pipes (also known as quills) are a highpitched reed instrument, directly derived from like instruments found in Africa and were fairly common in the regions of Louisiana, Texas and Mississippi at the turn of the century. The pan pipes are very distinguishable in perhaps his best-known composition, "Bull Doze Blues", a song reworked quite accurately in Thomas' own style by Canned Heat as "Going Up The Country", recorded some 40 years after the original. Thomas' songs celebrated his life on the road, his love for the railroads and dislikes of farming. Some of the other recordings made famous by Henry Thomas are "Cottonfield Blues", "Run, Molly, Run", "John Henry", "Fishing Blues" (beautifully covered by Taj Mahal on "Giant Step / De Ole Folks At Home", 1969) and "Honey Won't You Allow Me One More Chance?" (later revised by Bob Dylan on "Freewheelin 1962).
After making his final recordings in Chicago in 1929, Henry Thomas disappeared completely from sight. It is unknown what became of him, though some reports claim to have seen him perform as late as the mid-1950s on Texas street comers. It is believed that he most likely passed away sometime during this period.
Though Blind Lemon Jefferson is considered the first true star of Texas Blues, he most likely learned his guitar stylings by listening to traveling minstrels like Henry Thomas. Therefore, it can be easily reckoned that Thomas was one of the original progenitors of the Texas Blues guitar, which in turn has developed through the years in the works of Lightnin' Hopkins, T-Bone Walker, Freddie King, Albert Collins, and eventually to Stevie Ray and Jimmie Vaughan. All 23 of Thomas' compositions can be found on the definitive 1990 Yazoo release, "Texas Worried Blues".
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Blues History




