Blues/Jazz/Soul Haj 2016
There is a
passage in the Santa Cruz Haggadim that we used for years at Passover, which
says, “there are many beginnings of a story and one can start at almost any
place along the way to begin to tell it…”
This story is like that in that it connects to so many defining moments
and seminal experiences, it almost doesn’t matter where I begin. One beginning is my Mom telling me she was
reprimanded at work for wearing a black armband the day after Dr. King was
assassinated. One beginning is my
college friend Paul getting a “Blues Harmonica for Dummies” book and a Hohner
Blues Harp in a little mesh bag in his Christmas stocking in 1985. One beginning is sitting in the movie theatre
with a bunch of college freshmen on “free movie night” a few years later
watching Ralph Macchio fake-play the country blues on guitar while Ry Cooder
was just out of camera. Yet another
beginning is walking along Penn’s Landing and saying out loud that it was time
to cut back my time as a sideman and start my own band. So many beginnings, so
many stories; so many……This trip connected many of them and it was, in a word,
EPIC. Behold….
Day 1 20 June 2016
And so it
was the morning of my Grandfather’s 93rd birthday and the first day
of summer, that Kim and I put on shoes that were easily removed (not blue suede
sadly), boarded a plane and “touched down in the land of the Delta blues.”
A word
about managing expectations….the quicker one learns to do that deftly, the
happier you and everyone else will be.
No kidding, I have believed for my entire sentient life that 99% of the
time, there is more than one right answer to everything. Of course, moral and ethical and mathematical
issues notwithstanding, it’s a less “personally induced stress” way to go about
your day. The first adult to say that to me, was Kim on our 2nd date. How liberating!
Pretty much
right away at the rental car counter, I had to watch Kim navigate that
idea. The car company had told her two
or three times that we were getting a Jetta.
My baby is VW fan and I know she was looking forward to it. Alas, “I’m sorry ma’am we don’t have one….”
(which actually sounded like “ahsorry ma’am wee ownt hav’un”…my first translation
of the day for my Yankee bride), was an unexpected and unwelcome turn of
events. However, true to form, I watched
her face as the disappointment was replaced by resolve. So it was that we’re driving around for the
next 10 days or so in a butt-ugly grey/silver monstrosity of a small Jeep
SUV. Oh well, at least I got a fresh
haircut before the trip…
I will also
share this little moment. As we wheeled
our spanking new hard-sided suitcases out to the parking area and as we emerged
from the building, the PA in the garage was playing Robert Johnson’s “Kind-Hearted
Woman Blues.” As calculated as it must have been, it still worked on me. I can promise you that would never happen in
any other rental car parking area I know of.
Talk about setting a tone…
We arrived at the fantastic Talbot
Heirs Inn on 2nd st. and met our gregarious and knowledgeable
innkeepers Tom and Sandy. While Tom
helped me park the fugly Jeep, Kim got a little tour. When we got upstairs (two flights no
elevator…so quaint!), she was in a suite chatting. It wasn’t our room but, Sandy was showing Kim
the absolutely beautiful 1978 Kimball baby grand in the room. It took about 5 sentences and 5 minutes for
them to realize who we were and why we were in Memphis. Once they realized we were musicians, the
hospitality flowed. By the end of the enthusiastic and
rambling meet-and-greet, Tom and Sandy
had changed our room to the suite for no extra charge, brought down a nice little Yamaha parlor sized guitar for me
to play, told fifteen stories only a resident could know and informed us that
the beautiful piano had actually belonged to the great Bobby Whitlock. Now music fans will know that Bobby played on
a ton of Stax records in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s, with Sam & Dave’s
house band, as well at 2nd keys on some dates with Booker T and the MGs. You musicians might also remember that he was
the keyboard player and major songwriter on that “Derek and the Dominoes”
record from 1971 or so and before that with Delanie and Bonnie. I am staying in a room in Memphis, Tennessee with
a member of the classic rock royalty’s Piano.
You had me at Robert Johnson Memphis….
Here is Kim trying it out in our room…
Here’s yet another yummy detail? Tom apparently won a drawing several years
ago for supporters of the Blues Museum and Society down the street. What did this lucky dude get? A Mahogany Gibson Les Paul Gold Top with the
Delaware Destroyer himself’s signature on the lower bout as well as Bobby
Whitlock’s. Yes I held it, yes I played
a blues lick on it, no I wouldn’t want to have that heavy beast around my neck
for a whole gig but it was beautiful!
Once we
were sorta settled but not actually unpacked, we headed literally across the street to the opulent and amazing Peabody
Hotel. I am sure the rooms over there
are beautiful and amazing but our room at the Talbot Heirs is no less opulent
and comfortable, is 1/3 the price and has Bobby Whitlock’s Piano. Win….
We got over there and were mighty
impressed by how truly beautiful the lobby is.
This is the same lobby where it has been said the Mississippi Delta
begins. We arrived about 4:30 and of
course the lobby ducks, (one male, four female Mallards) were chasing each
other around the fountain. Kim secured
us drinks from the beautiful but hella expensive bar and we got a perch on the
mezzanine. The Duck Master inducted two
young ladies as honorary “Duck Mistresses” complete with gold-topped canes and
then, to the 1st strain of Sousa’s “King Cotton” March (how
appropriate), the ducks waddled over the ledge, onto the red-carpeted steps and red-carpeted
red carpet right onto the middle elevator and right to the roof and their
literally multi-million dollar duck house.
The roof was closed for a private affair so we didn’t get to see it just
then.
 |
| On the mezzanine.... |
 |
| Duck in the fountain! |
Since we couldn’t get upstairs, we strolled into Lansky’s.
Now, you
rock and roll fans and especially you Elvis fans know that Mr. Lansky was
Elvis’s tailor. His store is still there
and yes it is amazing. Some of the most
beautiful, zippy, colorful bespoke shirts and suits I’ve ever seen. We spent a glorious half hour trying on
jackets and marveling at the patterns and prints on the many, many beautiful
shirts and wondering aloud if a copy of Elvis’s wedding tux jacket was in my
price range. It might be…we’ll see….
It was hot,
we were starting to get hangry so we headed up to Main St. to catch a trolley
bus. There is a beautiful tree lined
alle all along Main St. with trolley tracks and an elevated step and everything
and yet, busses that look like trolleys.
According to Tom, when Memphis decided on the trolley transit corridor,
they bought some antique trolleys. It
didn’t take long for the old timers to break down and for them to realize that
no spare parts existed anywhere. Imagine
the expense and expertise required to hand tool and manufacture spares parts
for antique trolleys?
We rode the
trolley-bus a few stops south, stepped off, crossed the road, walk 25 feet and
I had the wind knocked out of me. Before
me was a scene I had seen hundreds of times and thought about nearly as many
times. It was the Lorraine Motel. The sign, the balcony, the ‘68 caddy parked
under an eave. It quite literally took
my breath away.
We walked past slowly and as we’d be going to that museum-cum-holy
place the next day fort a proper tour, I reserved further reaction until then.
Amazingly,
steps away and within sight of the Lorraine, sits Central BBQ. My erstwhile pal Peter gave me a gift card
for my recent birthday and we used it for a pork platter and a ½ rack rib platter,
along with mac and cheese, green beans slaw and tater salad. Kim ordered un-sweet
tea (sacrilege, but I still love her), and a hoppy local IPA for me rounded out
the repast. My half dry, half wet ribs
were quite honestly the best I’ve ever had.
Smoky but not too smoky, moist but not greasy, hot and falling off the
bone, plenty of crust, I savored every bite.
There may in fact be other BBQ ribs other places that are as good, but I
am sure there are none better. Also,
when they brought our plates, the young man explained quickly but rather well
that water, tea and utensils were on the wall to our left. At least that’s what I heard. I’m not sure what Kim heard but as soon as he
was done, she told him we needed utensils.
He looked at her quizzedly and repeated himself, this time to me. I translated for the 2nd time…..
Thank you Peter!
 |
| The view that took my breath away |
 |
| Central BBQ |
 |
| Rib feast in progess |
|
|
|
|
 |
| More interesting architecture |
 |
| The Father of the Blues, W.C. Handy and I |
 |
| Eric Hughes and the boys play the blues |
0640…can’t sleep so I try to take quick look at Facebook and
am sadly amazed to learn that Wayne
Jackson, trumpet with the Memphis Horns, Grammy Lifetime Achievement award
winner and performer on hundreds of soul, rock and blues records passed away
yesterday at 74. Amazed because JUST
yesterday afternoon, we were in Schwab’s looking at two books he had written. I
thought about buying one when another book caught my eye. “100 things to do in Memphis Before You Die.” Flipping through the table of contents, I saw
an item called “Tour Stax with a Memphis Horn.”
There was a phone number. I said
to Kim “how cool would it be to get a tour from Wayne Jackson!” I took a picture of the page and endeavored
to call him after dinner or first thing this morning.
|
|
 |
| The Memphis Horns about 1968 or so…that’s Wayne on the right and his longtime friend and section mate, Andrew Love with the Tenor |
The degree to which I have loved the sound of that section
ever since I was a baby horn section player is hard to express. Their economy of sound, their beautiful tone,
the fact that they were Southerners, the fact that they were an integrated
section, the list goes on an on. When
one considers the continuum of “horn sections” in American Music, they are a
major heading, right in there with the New Orleans street bands, small Jazz and
pop groups of the ‘20s, small groups of the ‘30s, Jump Blues and early R&B
of the ‘40s and 50’s, the JBs…. The next stop on that timeline is the Memphis
Horns and the Motown Horns. They’re
there before Blood, Sweat and Tears and before Chicago and Ten Wheel Drive and
Earth Wind and Fire and Tower of Power and Seawind and Mandrill and and and….
They were
always soulful, funky, sensitive, beautiful and most of all, appropriate to the
tune. Not that there’s anything wrong
with a tune that’s about the horn
section but it takes discipline and musicality and put your ego in check to do
what they did so brilliantly for so long.
This from
the Billboard site this morning:
“Love, who was black, and Jackson, who was white, played
together on 52 No. 1 records and 83 gold and platinum records, according to
Memphis-based Stax Records. Amy Jackson said her husband received his first
gold record in 1961 and his last in 2005.
The duo backed up Aretha
Franklin, Elvis Presley, Otis Redding, Neil Diamond, Isaac Hayes, the Doobie Brothers, U2, Jack White, Alicia Keys and many other
American pop music acts.
The Memphis
Horns could sound wistful and romantic on one song, boisterous and up-tempo on
another. They provided the horn tracks on dozens of well-known songs, including
Redding's "Dock of the Bay," Franklin's "Respect,"
Diamond's "Sweet Caroline," Presley's "Suspicious Minds,"
Sam & Dave's "Soul Man," Al Green's "Let's Stay
Together," Steve Winwood's "Roll With It," Peter Gabriel's
"Sledgehammer," and U2's "Angel of Harlem."
Oh my…rest
in peace Wayne Jackson….
Yesterday’s adventures:
Our first
stop after a perfect little breakfast at “Tamp & Tap”, a coffee house/brew
pub around the corner, was the Memphis Rock & Soul Museum. A note about visiting: multiple sources list it located at 191 Beale
St. Well, it’s not…it’s a little ways
down B.B. King Blvd across from Gibson Memphis and the Fedex Center
facility. It is a pretty thorough trip
through the “Social Crossroads” that is and was Memphis music. They touch on all the major elements, Blues,
Gospel, R & B, Rock, Soul that define Memphis’ contribution to the melting
pot of American Music. The museum was
set up and designed by the Smithsonian which besides that particular bona fide,
ensured that a balanced, even and complete overview was presented. There’s a short film to start that leans more
on the social and racial past than the music.
Performances by Carl Perkins bookend the film, which is a nice
detail. Multiple artifacts and displays
tell a rich and varied history of the musical, social and geographical crossroads
at Memphis. A set of headphones and a
small Ipod like device match up with numbers throughout which one can type in
and hear a narration OR (and this was great), various complete songs by
musicians from Memphis and the surrounding countryside. Some standout artifacts for me were one of
Duck Dunne’s P-Basses, Sputnik Monroe’s Gold Wrestling jacket and the original
mixing board from Argent Studios. A
great start to exploring Memphis.
 |
| Oh the music this board has heard! |
We had few minutes before the free shuttle so we crossed the
street to Gibson Memphis. I am pretty
certain they make some Les Pauls there, a bunch of ES 335, 375s and some
Epiphone electrics. We tooled around the
large gift shop which was filled with beautiful Gibsons and then back out into
the increasing heat and onto the free shuttle to Sun Records.
After we
got our tickets, we tramped down an alley out back to the Trolley Stop Café for
some Pizza and a nice locally brewed IPA.
At 1:30, our group of 38 was summoned by our excellent
guide, Jake. Jake took us to the
upstairs museum which contained many, many early Sun records artifacts AND the
original doors and control booth for WHRQ.
Those pieces were apparently spirited out of the 8th floor of
the Hotel Chisca right before it was gutted for condos by current Sun
staffers. Nicely done! Some artifacts of note were: the original matrix recording of Jackie
Brenston and Ike Turner’s “Rocket 88”, the partially destroyed amp they used
for the distorted guitar sound on that record, Elvis Presley’s High School yearbook,
many early red and white Memphis Recording Service records and some early
Howlin’ Wolf matrixes too!
After the
upstairs, we went down to the actual
Sun Studio, which amazingly, is still there, nearly unchanged since Carl
Perkins and Elvis and all the other ancestors of Rock and Roll stood on those
antique tiles and sang and played their little Southern hearts out. There really was a “sense of place” when I
was in there. It was small and a little
banged up to be sure but dripping with authenticity. Kim and I toyed with the idea of recording a
few tracks there, but the logistics and cost turned out to be prohibitive. I do wonder if one does record there, if they
get to use the vintage microphones and amps scattered around the room? They let people pose with a truly antique
Shure 55 on a super tall mic stand. The
Sun tour is most definitely worth the
time.
Outside afterwards we met a cat with an epic handlebar
mustache who was an Industrial Design major at my alma mater, University of the
Arts and knows father-of-my-step-daughters-friend and long-tome UARTS
professor, Tony Guido. It’s a small
world indeed.
Also
outside, we were panhandled for the fourth or fifth time since we got here. It happened two more times before we got back
last night. Pretty much everywhere we
walked Monday and Tuesday, someone hit us up for money or food. I going to try to look less like a tourist
today and see how that goes. I truly do
feel bad for them but it’s super irritating.
 |
| Some vintage microphone goodness at Sun Studio |
 |
| Kim at the 55 |
Back on
Beale, we eye-shopped for real at Schwab’s, a truly one-of-a-kind store with
tourist kitsch, a Beale street Museum, Voodoo accoutrement , candy and an old
school soda fountain. At the soda
fountain we had handmade old-timey sodas:
a lemon-lime and something called a “Green River” that tasted pretty
much like a Mojito without the alcohol.
They were refreshing and delicious to be sure.
 |
| Kim sips.... |
Cooled off and refreshed, we walked to dinner in
the 90 degree heat at Gus’ Fried Chicken.
Oh my! Was that some good chicken
and good sides! Washed down with some real
sweet tea I thought we might have recharged ourselves. Their pie was also the best and only real pie
we ate on the entire trip. Why does no
one put pie on their dessert menus unless it’s a soul food shop?
 |
| Gus' y'all! |
On a tip from the “100 things” book AND our
waitress Elizabeth, we then walked down to South Main to check out Ernestine
& Hazel’s. It was a true Memphis
dive bar but with a killer jukebox. We
sipped our Coronas and it gradually dawned on us that our asses were well and
truly kicked from the heat, walking, dinner and stimulation. We took the 1$ trolley-bus back to the Talbot
Heirs and fell on the couch. I tried to
watch some TV but we both fell into bed like old people at 9:30. Zzzzzzzz…
 |
| Ernestine & Hazel's |
Day 3 22 June 2016
Once again
we began with another nice, small breakfast at Tamp & Tap. They express their iced coffee with a
nitrogen infuser from the beer tap row.
Smoothest, tastiest iced coffee I’ve ever had!
After
biscuits and sausage and what not, we dove into the heat and caught the
Trolley-bus down to the National Civil Rights Museum. It was without a doubt, one of the most
moving museum experiences I’ve ever had.
They tell THE WHOLE story. The
whole story is sad, unfortunate, mean, ignorant, racist, brave, perplexing,
tearful, joyous and a great deal to take in.
One cannot fail to be emotionally exhausted and over-stimulated. Once you have made your way through the main museum,
the coup de gras awaits. After the
middle passage, bus boycotts, Birmingham bombings, Jim Crow, NAACP, and all the
other million heartbreaking stories, (all well told and evenly presented), one
is a little disoriented. All the twists
and turns and oh my….you are standing in a small viewing area between rooms 306
and 307. You are right at the bend in
the railing, looking into the two seemingly untouched rooms from April 4th
1968. When I realized this, it took my
breath away and I don’t mind telling you, I teared up. I reached out for a steadying arm from my
steadfast wife and kept going. It was
deeply, deeply moving. The exhibits
after that detailed the black power movement of the 1970s and eventually
outlined the challenges still faced by our country.
One interesting museum note: A smallish panel, right next to the large panels
explaining the significance of the 1965 Civil Rights Act, told a small story of
Barack Obama’s election. That is a WAY
bigger story than a small panel and certainly belongs further along the
timeline of exhibits. There are several
things about the world of 2016 I never thought I’d see in my lifetime: Gay marriage, legal weed, no smoking in bars
and a Black President are a few. I think
perhaps when the museum was designed, that was hard for those super-informed
museum experts to imagine too. You can’t
ignore it in a museum of Civil Rights but where to put it? I suspect wherever there was room for a panel
for now until his legacy is secured. It
is still one of the two most incredible things that happened in my lifetime
along with 9/11 and the War on Terror.
 |
| Room 306 |
 |
| An actual Montgomery Bus |
We really needed to process so despite the 92 degree heat, we walked back to Beale St. discussing what we’d seen and how our view of race is subtly different than our children’s. Feeling a little peckish, we discussed lunch and ultimately decided to have a bite at our next stop. Back down
at the Rock & Soul Museum we attempted to catch the free shuttle out to
Graceland but, alas, the air-conditioning was broken and the shuttle was not
running. This necessitated the hot
trudge back to the hotel to grab the fugly Jeep and Claire, my trusty GPS.
Between
Claire and Wayze, we got out to Elvis Presley Blvd mid-afternoon. We got the Platinum Tour and yet another
Veteran discount. (We got one at the
NCRM at the Lorraine Motel too). First
stop, try to find Elvis favorite sandwich, which, ultimately, we did! After grilled peanut butter and banana
sandwiches and shared fries we were as ready as we could be!
 |
| Grilled PB and Banana! |
We were given iPads and headphones and onto the shuttle we
went as the Mansion is actually across the street from the visitor center
complex/planet/headquarters.
It’s a pretty opulent if dated-ly decorated place befitting
a 50s/60s/70s superstar. There were
indeed lots of interesting things to see. I was left with the feeling that you
can take the Boy out of the South but not the South out of the Boy. I often feel that way myself even though I’ve
lived almost 4/5s of my life amongst the Yankees.
Elvis' living room and porcelain monkey....
The Jungle Room and Elvis' three Gospel Grammys...his only ones....
 |
| RIP Elvis.... |
The heat and emotion called for rest and re-fit before the
evening activities so we repaired back to the hotel and took brief, twilight-ing
naps. About 6pm or so, we walked,
literally 1 ½ blocks around the corner to the super-famous Rendezvous Charcoal
BBQ. We were seated immediately even
though there was a line; the place is a huge underground lair of BBQ! Kim and I both ordered half racks with sides,
mine with a local IPA, hers with Prosecco.
(Prosecco and BBQ…how much do I love my wife?).
 |
| Cheers! |
 |
| Dry rub...mmmm. |
 |
| Bike night on Beale |
We got to Silky’s and for the 2nd time, despite
my careful research, were informed of a sub.
Not Barbara Blue but Barbara Red!
Two grand pianos, one manned by a player-singer, a guitarist with a
Guild, and an older woman singer with dyed red hair and a flowey house-coat. With tasty Margaritas in our paws, we settled
down to hear some Blues. Again, we sort
of did? LOTS of covers that eventually
devolved into asking for requests (we threw out a few easy ones and no dice
hmmmm). The few Blues she did were pretty good but eventually the lack of
feeling due to no set list, the guitar-piano duo ran out of steam. We tipped them and split.
We set out
looking for pie, and ultimately decided to find the rooftop bar Tom had told us
about our first night in Memphis. It was
a 4 or 5 block walk only but Kim’s Plantar Fasciitis was bothering her AND a
blister had come up on one of her toes.
Despite all that, my intrepid wife said’ “Let’s go!” and go we did.
I consulted
the (mostly) helpful map. I say mostly
because 1) The Rock & Soul Museum is not where it’s published address or
the map says it is…2) the Beale St. landing for the riverboat is not at Beale St.,and
come to find out, 3) the Madison Hotel is not at Front and Monroe like the map
says. After a call, we found it anyway.
There is a
terrace bar on the 17th floor that looks out over the Mississippi and
Arkansas. We got up there just as the
sun set. Beautiful doesn’t even cover
it. We had fancy cocktails, and watched
a middle-aged Memphis Belle wait for her birthday party guests to arrive. She seemed lonely at first, so Kim and I
discussed sending her a drink. As we
were about to, some other Beautiful Memphian people showed up for her. It was apparently turn-back-the-clock night
as the playlist pumping out of the QSC powered speakers arrayed all around the
terrace featured Toni Basil, New Edition, the Gap Band, EWF and other ‘70s and
‘80s dance favorites.
After a
quick photo op in the hipster lobby, we once again searched vainly for pie
along Main St. We even stopped in the convenience store
downstairs. Kim ultimately chowed on the
only food in the room: biscotti, cereal and some pretzels. I fell asleep like a smooth rock at the
bottom of a quiet, forest stream.
| A gorgeous view.... |
| Less gorgeous, but still pretty.... |
| My very own pin-up girl! |
Day 4 23 June 2016
Once again,
and for the last time sadly, we had our biscuits and nitrogen-expressed iced
coffee, packed up, checked out and headed off.
First stop? 926 McLemore Ave,
Memphis TN. An address and location I
have known for over 25 years.
The current home of the Stax Museum and school and the
former home of the most important soul music studio and label ever. Yes I mean that. NOTHING sounded like Stax. There were sound-alikes and copycats and
other really great soul studios and labels (one a few blocks away even). Back at the turn of the last century, there
weren’t as many people interested in keeping the old theatre turned studio
together and they tore it down. It was
the semi-early days of the Internet and of course, I found out about the
demolition and was very, very sad. Just a
few days after the news item, I was trolling around for other articles about
Stax and came across a cat selling bricks from the demo site for 18$ complete
with a notarized certificate and a polaroid.
I have treasured that piece since about 2001. I tell my students that if you put it up to
your ear and listen really closely, you can hear Duck Dunn’s bass line on “Dock
of the Bay”.
So it was
pretty exciting to tour the Stax museum, recreation or not. Kim and I BOTH were really excited and moved
by the amazing array of artifacts and exhibits housed and expertly curated
there. One of our Innkeepers, Jerry,
told us that when Cropper and Booker T walked into the recreation of Studio A,
they were completely blown away at the degree to which it had been lovingly
rebuilt. Apparently the original blue
prints for the theatre and the original blue prints for the studio still
existed and those, along with lots of first hand memories allowed for the
meticulous recreation. It certainly
seemed like every picture I’d ever seen!
The museum altogether tells the story of Stax for sure, but also the
greater story of Soul music in general.
It is extremely thorough and well done.
On the
marquee, there was respect for Wayne Jackson.
And right when you begin the museum after the little movie, there was
his horn with the shoelace, front and center with Crop’s Telly and Duck’s
P-Bass. Other exhibits of note: A great panel about the music teachers of
Memphis! Represent! Isaac Hayes gold-plated Cadillac, Booker’s
Green Onions M3 and many, many more. I
loved every minute of it. We dropped
some scooties in the gift shop and headed over for (what I thought) was just a
quick picture outside Royal Studio, home of Hi Records, Willie Mitchell, Ann
Peebles and of course, Al Green.
We parked
across the street and started to take pictures when to my astonishment, Yvonne,
Willie’s daughter came out and introduced herself and asked if we’d like a
walkthrough, “before they get started again”.
Oh My G-D. Really?
So, we
did! We chatted with Yvonne, walked into
the vocal booth, where we checked out the antique ribbon mic Al Green used, stood
in Studio A, looked into the control room and soaked it in. This, while a Japanese singer and her band took
a break from their photo shoot there. Imagine our luck….Yvonne and her sister
Lorrain were SO VERY sweet to us and I of course showered praise and respect on
her father’s legacy and them for keeping it going.
Still
shaking my head in disbelief, we mounted up and headed to Mississippi.
Mikey in Studio A Mikey with Yvonne Mitchell
Where the Soul was made....
First stop in Mississippi was in Walls, location of the
final resting place of the great Memphis Minnie, and the first stop on our
historical blues trail marker tour. It
was on the edge of an enormous field at a very small church about ¼ mile from
the river. It was certainly a beautiful
spot.
Attempting to follow the directions I had
obtained from a great Blues web site, we next headed to the site of the Abbay-Leatherman
Plantation. It was one of the largest in
the Delta and of course, the childhood home of Robert Johnson. The main company building is still there and
the fields stretch off behind it all the way down to levee. Down by the levee was where the little shacks
were and where Robert grew up. History
drips from everything here….
Running a little late, we opted to find a late lunch and
skip a few stops. After an unsatisfying
bite at Sonic on new Rt 61, we headed down to Clarksdale, possibly to stay at
the famed Riverside Motel. After taking
a look at the motel and the marker, we decided against that kind of
authenticity and checked into a chain on the strip. We chilled out for a bit, then headed into
the old part of town to Morgan Freeman’s Ground Zero Blues Club.
The club
was great, actually. I know it’s aimed
at tourists and I know it’s not Red’s Lounge (which was closed that night,
anyway) but it’s damn close. Also, great
sound and lights (tastefully hidden), great beer selection, above average food
all in mis-matched chairs and graffiti-ed walls, tables and windows. It’s in an old cotton warehouse and has old
plush chairs and couches and benches on the porch. As we walked up, some folks lounging and
smoking in the chairs chatted us up and come to find out, it was the band we
had come to see! Once we told them we
were also musicians, they informed us that the 2nd and 3rd
sets were “sit in night” and we had to
sign up. I demurred a little but they
were very encouraging and friendly. I
had an expectation that a band with a gig at a club of this stature in a place
like this might be decent. I was
right. It was the best band we have seen
so far. “LaLa Craig and Element
88”. She’s a keyboardist-singer with a
big voice and a gutsy stage presence.
The bass player was a 20 something named Heather with her own band and
the guitar player looked for all the world like a young Chuck Mangione,
complete with hat and beard and long hair.
The drummer was also a young African-American kid with good time and
decent fills.
We chowed on some very soul food; BBQ, catfish, okra, beans,
black-eyed peas, slaw, hushpuppies an IPA and Kim’s favorite, a Whiskey Sour. I stepped outside to call and wish my
super-niece a happy 17th birthday from the gravel parking lot…
The band
ripped through it’s first set, Kim and I danced a bit and she signed us up to
sit in. I don’t really “sit in” since I
usually have my own gig, but this seemed like an easy and fun thing to do. After another couple beers and some more
dancing, we were the first two called up.
LaLa also invited up an older
woman drummer. I tried to talk to her
but she vibed hard. Nerves maybe? I don’t know, I was just trying to help. Kim called “Route 66” in D and said “light
shuffle” and was ignored. I had no idea
if this older chick could play and I didn’t want Kim to sound bad so I reached
over and got her attention and said again, “light shuffle for this one?” She said something like, “this isn’t my first
time here” and I said “ok whatever” with what I hope was a noticed
eye-roll. Just then, LaLa started it up
with, you guessed it, a light shuffle.
We went around once and Kim started.
Stage volume was very loud and she and I hard a hard time hearing but it
turned out OK. The drummer was stiff and
unimaginative but the time was mostly there.
The borrowed, smallish bass was easy to play but again, hard to
hear. I played the customary rising
chords on the release and LaLa and Walt heard me and followed after the first
verse. Good ears, Clarksdale….The crowd
dug Kim and LaLa asked us for another.
Kim called Hank Williams’ “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry” in A. Walt the guitarist, claimed not to know it
but as soon as it started, he was on it.
He missed the minor 6 chord the first time but not after that it was
fine and again, Kim wowed them. It was
pretty much fun for us to have a chance to play some music in a Blues club in
Clarksdale MS. There was a moment when I
looked over and caught Walt’s eye and he smiled and I thought about a young BB
King in another juke not far from here doing the same thing 70 years ago.
As we went
back to our seats, we passed a two-top with a nice young couple who gave us
thumbs up and an atta-boy. More on that
later…
After some congratulatory patter with band post
set and some well-deserved kudos to Kim, we headed to the room and collapsed
asleep.
| LaLa Craig and her Band |
| Ground Zero Blues Club |
|
Beale Street after dark…
|
No comments:
Post a Comment