Podcasts about Skip James

Celebrating 19 years of this podcast with some of the host's favorite records, along with some memories of the show's origin.  Songs include: Right Or Wrong by Bob Wills, Cherokee by Sarah Vaughn, Devil Got My Woman by Skip James, In a Mist by Frankie Traumbaur, The Half Of It Dearie Blues by Fred Astaire and Once In a While by Louis Armstrong. 

 | Artist  | Title  | Album Name  | Album Copyright  | Alger ''Texas'' Alexander  | Seen Better Days (1930)  | Complete Recorded Works, Vol. 2 (1928 - 1930)  | Unidentified Artist (Prisoners?)  | Annie Lee  | Cap'n, You're So Mean-Negro Songs of Protest, Vol. 2  | Half Deaf Clatch  | Monochrome Man  | Retro Electric Two  |   | Paul Cowley  | On My Way  | Stroll Out West  |   | Blind Willie McTell  | Broke Down Engine No. 2  | Complete Recorded Works, Vol. 2 (1931-1933)  | Andres Roots  | Lockdown Special  | Tartu Lockdown  |   | Lightnin' Hopkins  | Picture On the Wall  | Get Off My Toe  |   | Lightnin' Hopkins  | Automobile Blues  | Lightnin' Hopkns: Blues Master  | Half Deaf Clatch  | Hill Country Rain  | The Blues Continuum  | Blind Blake  | Ain't Gonna Do That No More  | All The Recorded Sides  | Skip James  | Yola My Blues Away  | The Complete Early Recordings of Skip James - 1930  | Lightnin' Hopkins  | Black Cadillac  | In The Key Of Lightnin  | Duster Bennett  | I Worship the Ground You Walk On  | I Choose to Sing the Blues - 1998 - 224  | Pinetop Perkins  | Just Keep On Drinking  | Heaven  |   |   | Pistol Pete Wearn  | The Clansman  | Blues, Ballads & Barnstormers  | Charles -Cow Cow- Davenport  | Alabama Mistreater  | Complete Recorded Works, Vol. 1

On this episode of Songs of Our Lives, it's Ava Mendoza! She's been one of my favorite guitarists for quite some time, and her latest album, “The Circular Train,” is incredible. We get into the details behind the record plus her time with the Bill Orcutt Guitar Quartet before Ava educates me on different Blues' styles from various regions in Mississippi (and then some!) Then, we talk about conceptual connections between Alice Coltrane and Keiji Haino, the joy of Kid Congo Powers, Chrome's greatness, Skip James, Loren Connors, Roy Buchanan, Earth, and more!Listen to all of Ava's picks HEREThe Circular TrainAva's WebsiteAva on InstagramGary K. Spain on Chrome at Foxy DigitalisSong ListSavia Andina “Danza del Sicuri”Skip James “Devil Got My Woman” or “Hard Time Killing Floor Blues”Kid Congo Powers and the Pink Monkey Birds “Ese Vicio Delicioso”Albert Ayler “Truth is Marching In”Blind Willie Johnson “Dark Was The Night”Virus “The Black Flux”Earth “The Bees Made Honey In The Lions Skull”Nicki Minaj “Stupid Hoe”Roy Buchanan “Sweet Dreams”Keiji Haino / Jim O'Rourke / Oren Ambarchi “Thinking too deeply I skipped over ¯¯ three by three”Geraldine Fibbers “Richard”Can “Father Cannot Yell”Alice Coltrane “Turiya Sings”Chrome “SS Cygni”Cakes da Killa “Keep it Goin”Carla Bozulich “Winds of St. Anne”Jessie Mae Hemphill “Eagle Bird”Songs of Our Lives is a podcast series hosted by Brad Rose of Foxy Digitalis that explores the music that's made us and left a certain mark. Whether it's a song we associate with our most important moments, something that makes us cry, the things we love that nobody else does, or our favorite lyrics, we all have our own personal soundtrack. Join Foxy Digitalis on Patreon for extra questions and conversation in each episode (+ a whole lot more!)Follow Foxy Digitalis:WebsitePatreonInstagramTwitterBlueskyThe Jewel Garden

Songwriter, blues guitarist and singer Chris Smither joins me on the show today. I had the pleasure of meeting Chris and playing with him this past summer at a festival, and he really was a force of nature. He had an incredible groove between his guitar lines and his powerful foot, all brought together with a voice that has developed so much character over the years it just oozes out of him. Chris grew up in New Orleans, but as you'll hear, doesn't totally identify musically with his hometown. He's spent most of his career based out of the Massachusetts area, and developed his style and sound in the folk clubs of Boston and Cambridge. His songwriting style owes as much to others from that era and scene as it does to blues songwriters like Lightnin' Hopkins, Mississippi John Hurt and Skip James. He manages to pull something off which I think is difficult and very unique - he's developed a style of songwriting that seems to be right out of that era of the classic folk/blues tradition, but without being even the slightest bit derivative of those artists that came before him. He wrote the songs “Love Me Like A Man” and “I Feel The Same” that became staples in Bonnie Raitt's career and repertoire, not to mention Diana Krall also cutting “Love Me Like A Man”. His recording career began in 1971 with the album “I'm a Stranger, Too!” at which time he was label-mates with Townes Van Zandt. He's been a prolific artist ever sonce then, with a few personal low times where he shied away from making new records. But since the 90's he's been extremely consistent with a new record every year or two. His latest is called “All About The Bones” and is one of his best. Chris is one of those rare artists that just seems to keep getting better, even into his 80's. I had a great conversation with him from his home on a rare break from the road, and we had a chance to dig into all of his history and record-making process. You can keep up with Chris and all his latest news and extensive touring over at smither.com - please enjoy my conversation with Chris Smither!This season is brought to you by our sponsors Larivée Guitars and Fishman AmplificationYou can join our Patreon here to get all episodes ad-free, as well as access to all early episodesThe show's website can be found at www.makersandshakerspodcast.com Get ad-free episodes and access to all early episodes by subscribing to Patreon. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

 | Artist  | Title  | Album Name  | Album Copyright  |  | John Hammond  | Looking For Trouble  | Timeless  |   |   |   | Blind Blake  | Early Morning Blues - Vol 2  | All The Recorded Sides  |   | Skip James  | Drunken Spree  | The Complete Early Recordings of Skip James - 1930  | Tinsley Ellis  | Tallahassee Blues  | Naked Truth  |   |   | Lightnin' Hopkins  | Sugar Mama  | Lightnin' Hopkns: Blues Master  |   | Cora Fluker  | Pray For Me  | Sisters Of The South (Cd2)  |   | Lonnie Johnson  | Can't Sleep Any More  | Why Should I Cry  |   |   | Half Deaf Clatch  | Counting Kisses (Live)  | Live In Shetland 2014  |   | Stompin' Dave & Dave Saunders  | Big Black Train  | Country Blues  |   |   | James Tisdom  | Salty Dog Rag  | Playing for the Man at the Door Disc 1  | Joe Bonamassa  | Woke Up Dreaming  | Acoustic Evening at the Vienna Opera House  | Charles -Cow Cow- Davenport  | Cow Cow Blues  | Complete Recorded Works, Vol. 1  | Adam Franklin  | Hellhound On My Trail  | Til I Hear You Talkin' (Extra}  |   | Reverend Gary Davis  | You Got to Move  | Manchester Free Trade Hall 1964  | Stomping Dave Allen and Earl Jackson  | Before You Accuse Me  | Stompin' The Blues  |   |   | Chris O  | Cruising With the Blues  | Peckman's Plateau  |   | 

The word hokum originated in vaudeville to mean a risqué performance laced with wordplay, euphemisms and double entendre.When it appeared on the label of a 1928 hit for Vocalion Records by a new group called Tampa Red's Hokum Jug Band, the term rapidly entered the jazzy lexicon of The Roarin' Twenties.When the group moved on to Paramount Records as The Famous Hokum Boys, it quickly picked up imitators at other studios, often using variations on the same word in their own names. Eventually “hokum” came to describe an entire species of novelty tunes, all those sexy, silly blues of the 1920s and '30s.About Tampa RedHokum's first star, Tampa Red, was one of the most prolific blues artists of his era, recording some 335 songs, 75 percent between 1928 and 1942. Tampa Red was born Hudson Woodbridge in Smithville, Georgia, near Albany in the first decade of the 20th century. When their parents died, he and his older brother Eddie moved to Tampa, Florida, to be reared by their aunt and their grandmother. There he also adopted their surname, Whittaker.Emulating Eddie, Hudson Whittaker played guitar around the Tampa area, especially inspired by an old street musician called Piccolo Pete, who taught the youngster his first blues licks.After perfecting a slide guitar technique, he moved to Chicago in 1925 and began working as a street musician himself. He took the name "Tampa Red" to celebrate to his childhood home.Enter TomRed's big break came when he was hired to accompany established blues star Ma Rainey. There he also met pianist/composer Thomas A. Dorsey, who as working as “Georgia Tom.” Red and Tom became fast friends and music partners.Tom introduced Red to records exec J. Mayo Williams, who arranged a studio session in 1928. Their first effort was a dud, but their next song — the cheeky “It's Tight Like That” — became a national sensation, selling a million copies. Red later recalled seeing people standing outside of record stores just waiting to buy the disc. Since the song was composed by both Red and Tom, they shared $4,000 in royalties from that single song. (That would be about $75,000 today.)While his partnership with Dorsey ended in 1932, Red remained much in demand in recording studios throughout the ‘30s and ‘40s. He was later "rediscovered" in the blues revival of the late 1950s, along with other early blues artists, like Son House and Skip James. Red made his last recordings in 1960.About the SongTampa Red recorded “Somebody's Been Using That Thing” in 1934, but unlike so many of the tunes he waxxed, he didn't write this one.Instead, the song was composed and recorded five years earlier by a curious genre-blending mandolinist named Al Miller.Starting in 1927, Miller played and sang in a style that combined elements of country, blues and jazz on sides for Black Patti records. His eclectic mix of sounds and material gave way to a heavy concentration on bawdry once he arrived at Brunswick for a series of recordings with his Market Street Boys. Miller recorded his “Somebody's Been Using That Thing” on March 8, 1929. It was his big seller. Five years later, after Tampa Red also scored with it, the song even started attracting the attention of artists in the fledgling country and western genre. In 1937, for instance, Milton Brown, called by some “the father of Western swing,” did a rendition for Decca. The following year, The Callahan Brothers (Walter and Homer) of Madison County, Ky., recorded it on the Conqueror label.Our Take on the TuneIf there's such a thing as a "standard" in jug band music, ”Somebody's Been Using That Thing” is certainly one of them. While The Flood's heroes recorded it 90 years ago, the band didn't get around to doing it until back in 2009 when Joe Dobbs recommended it. That was right after he received a recording of it by our old buddy, Ed Light, and his DC-area band with one great name: The All New Genetically Altered Jug Band. We've been Floodifying the tune ever since, as this track from a recent rehearsal demonstrates. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit 1937flood.substack.com

Sam McGee — called by some “the granddad of country guitar pickers” — got his start in April 1926 when he traveled to New York City for his first recording session, backing up the legendary Uncle Dave Macon on eight sides at the Brunswick studios.Thirty-year-old McGee met Macon two years earlier when the banjoist played a show near Sam's Franklin, Tennessee, home. Sam was a blacksmith in those days, but he had played guitar and banjo for many years.Following the show, McGee invited Macon home and, after hearing Sam pick “Missouri Waltz,” Uncle Dave invited him to play a few dates with him. By the following year, McGee was playing regularly with Macon and fiddler Sid Harkreader at Loew's Bijou Theater in Birmingham, appearing on stage in a rural outfit.Later Macon teamed with Sam and his younger brother Kirk McGee to form an act that was billed as “Uncle Dave Macon and his Sons from Billygoat Hill,” capitalizing on that same backwoods image. “I never did learn much about playing from him,” Sam said, “but I did learn a lot about handling an audience.”About the SongOne of the eight songs Dave and Sam recorded in their April 14, 1926, session in New York was “Last Night When My Willie Come Home,” a song that seemed to be making the rounds in the South at the time.About a year later in Atlanta, for instance, Frank Blevins' Tar Heel Rattlers cut the tune for Columbia. Three years after that in Knoxville, Vocalion recorded it by The Smoky Mountain Ramblers, basically a pickup group backing steel guitarist Walt McKinney.One of the more interesting early covers of the song was blues singer Skip James' rendition, which Paramount Records released in 1932 as “Drunken Spree.” Those first records, waxxed in Grafton, Wisconsin, formed the basis of James' musical reputation.Folkies Find ItAfter that, the Willie-coming-home song seems to have drifted away from music's collective memory for a few decades, until it was reborn in the folk music boom 30 years later.The extraordinary New Lost City Ramblers were the first to give “Late Last Night When Willie Came Home” new energy when the group included it on the second volume of its tunes for Folkways in 1960, inspiring other old-time outfits to follow suit.Enter Doc WatsonThe song launched higher into the folk music stratosphere two years later.That's when Doc Watson recorded it with Clint Howard and Fred Price on an influential Folkways' album of various artists called Old Time Music at Clarence Ashley's.From then on, Doc more or less adopted the tune — which he famously re-dubbed “Way Downtown” — as a favorite vehicle for his virtuosity. Watson's rendition with The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band is one of the standout tracks on the seminal 1972 Will the Circle Be Unbroken album. Over the next few years he and his friends played it at many urban folk festivals.In the last dozen years of his life, Doc was still digging it. He played “Way Downtown” live on his 1999 An Evening with Doc Watson and David Holt album. Along the way, the song also has been covered by Tony Rice, Jody Stecher, Billy Strings and many others.Our Take on the TuneIt's funny how songs come in and out of The Flood's life. A half century ago when the band was just thinking about being born, Dave Peyton and Charlie Bowen would get together on weekends to pick and sing, just the two of them, and among the tunes they'd play was “Way Downtown," which they learned from that old Doc Watson record. After the band came together — as Roger Samples and Joe Dobbs, Bill Hoke and Stewart Schneider joined up — "Way Downtown" was a regular. The song has drifted in and out over the years, and whenever it rambles back in, it's just as comfortable as an old shoe. This is a take on the tune from a recent rehearsal.Audio ExtraOh, and here's a snippet from The Flood archives. Click the button below to hear Charlie at a gig urging folks to sing along on the chorus and explaining how harmonicat Sam St. Clair was promoting a special pronunciation: This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit 1937flood.substack.com

Augusta Palmer is a documentary filmmaker and scholar. Her newest film is “The Blues Society”, about the 1960s Memphis Country Blues Festival and the blues revival in Americal. The film won Best Feature Documentary at the Oxford Film Festival. She also directed the short film “Order My Steps” about an incarcerated woman reaching out to her estranged daughter. The film debuted in Rwanda at the Women Deliver Film & Culture Festival. And she's a professor at St. Francis College in NYC.My featured song is my reimagined version of the Skip James classic “I'm So Glad” by my band Project Grand Slam. Spotify link.---------------------------------------------The Follow Your Dream Podcast:Top 1% of all podcasts with Listeners in 200 countries!For more information and other episodes of the podcast click here. To subscribe to the podcast click here .To subscribe to our weekly Follow Your Dream Podcast email click here.To Rate and Review the podcast click here.“Dream With Robert”. Click here.—----------------------------------------“THE GIFT” is Robert's new single featuring his song arranged by Grammy winning arranger Michael Abene. Praised by David Amram, John Helliwell, Joe La Barbera, Tony Carey, Fay Claassen, Antonio Farao, Danny Gottlieb and Leslie Mandoki.Click HERE for all links.—-------------------------------------“LOU'S BLUES” is Robert's recent single. Called “Fantastic! Great playing and production!” (Mark Egan - Pat Metheny Group/Elements) and “Digging it!” (Peter Erskine - Weather Report)!Click HERE for all links.—----------------------------------------“THE RICH ONES”. Robert's recent single. With guest artist Randy Brecker (Blood Sweat & Tears) on flugelhorn. Click HERE for all links.—---------------------------------------“MILES BEHIND”, Robert's debut album, recorded in 1994, was “lost” for the last 30 years. It's now been released for streaming. Featuring Randy Brecker (Blood Sweat & Tears), Anton Fig (The David Letterman Show), Al Foster (Miles Davis), Tim Ries (The Rolling Stones), Jon Lucien and many more. Called “Hip, Tight and Edgy!” Click here for all links.—--------------------------------------“IT'S ALIVE!” is Robert's latest Project Grand Slam album. Featuring 13 of the band's Greatest Hits performed “live” at festivals in Pennsylvania and Serbia.Reviews:"An instant classic!" (Melody Maker)"Amazing record...Another win for the one and only Robert Miller!" (Hollywood Digest)"Close to perfect!" (Pop Icon)"A Masterpiece!" (Big Celebrity Buzz)"Sterling effort!" (Indie Pulse)"Another fusion wonder for Project Grand Slam!" (MobYorkCity)Click here for all links.Click here for song videos—-----------------------------------------Audio production:Jimmy RavenscroftKymera Films Connect with Augusta at:Website - www.thebluessocietyfilm.comInstagram - www.instagram.com/thebluessocietyfilm/Facebook - www.facebook.com/thebluessocietyfilm/ Connect with the Follow Your Dream Podcast:Website - www.followyourdreampodcast.comEmail Robert - robert@followyourdreampodcast.com Follow Robert's band, Project Grand Slam, and his music:Website - www.projectgrandslam.comYouTubeSpotify MusicApple MusicEmail - pgs@projectgrandslam.com

 | Artist  | Title  | Album Name  | Album Copyright  |   | Donna Herula  | The Soul Of A Man  | Bang At The Door  |   |   | Elli de Mon  | Downhearted Blues  | Countin' The Blues  |   | Doc Watson and Gaither Carlton  | Willie Moore  | Doc Watson and Gaither Carlton  | Smithsonian Folkways  | Duwayne Burnside  | She Threw My Clothes Out  | Acoustic Burnside  |   |   | Tab Benoit  | Standing on the Bank  | 22 Special Blues Tracks  |   | Michael Messer  | Hum Dum Dinger From Dingersville  | Diving Duck 1988  |   |   | Cora Mae Bryant  | Hambone  | Sisters Of The South (Cd2)  |   | Son Henry  | Ribbon Of Tar  | Ribbon Of Tar (New)  |   | Lonnie Johnson and Eddie Lang  | To Do This, You Got to Know How  | Jazz Legends  |   |   | W.C. Handy Preservation Band - Carl Wolfe  | Beale Street Blues  | W.C. Handy's Beale Street: Where The Blues Began  | Skip James  | Devil Got My Woman  | The Complete Early Recordings of Skip James - 1930  | Half Deaf Clatch  | Super Massive Blues  | Short Songs for the Barely Conscious  | Gwyn Ashton  | Yesterday's Me (Cool Cool Water)  | MojoSoul  |   |   |   | Jelly Roll Morton  | Load of Coal  | Complete Jazz Series 1929-1930  | Mean Mary  | Little Cindy  | Alone [(Release Date - September 18 2020)]

In de vorige aflevering leerden we hoe aan het begin van de jaren dertig, na de beurscrash op Wall Street de economische crisis hard toesloeg, gevolgd door een aanhoudende droogte die de oogst vernielde. Vooral de lagere sociale klasse werd in de armoede gekatapulteerd, er heerste hongersnood en er kwam een nieuwe migratie op gang. Er was nu geen geld meer beschikbaar voor ontspanning en vertier, de kleinere platenlabels gericht op de Afro-Amerikaanse markt gingen ten onder en heel wat grote en bekende muzikanten gaven er de brui aan. En toch hielden enkele bluesartiesten stand. Denk maar aan Bukka White, Skip James, de Mississippi Sheiks, Leadbelly en Big Bill Broonzy. Vind je deze podcast inspirerend en leerrijk? Deel hem dan in jouw netwerk en volg de podcast zodat je geen enkele nieuwe aflevering mist. En een review is ook altijd fijn

 | Artist  | Title  | Album Name  | Album Copyright  | Arthur Montana Taylor  | Rotten Break (rec Chicago 18/4/46)  | Montana Taylor  |   | Seasick Steve  | That's All  | Man From Another Time  | The Georgia Browns  | Tampa Strut  | Curley Weaver (1933-1935)  | Skip James  | Cherry Ball Blues  | The Complete Early Recordings of Skip James - 1930  | Mean Mary  | Come Along  | Alone [(Release Date - September 18 2020)]  | Ida Cox  | Wild Women Don't Have The Blues  | Ida Cox Vol. 2 1924-1925  | Samoa Wilson  | Come Up Horsey  | Various Artists-Hush The Waves Are Rolling In ~ Lullabies from the Alan Lomax Collection |  | The Jake Leg Jug Band  | Where We'll Never Grow Old  | Everythin's Jake  |   | 'Kid' Wiggins  | Sugar (Foot) Blues  | Playing for the Man at the Door Disc 1  | Andres Roots  | Room Service  | Electric Dixieland  |   | Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee  | Cornbread, Peas And Black Molasses (Recorded Live At The   Free Trade Hall, Manchester  | Chris Barber Presents The Blues Legacy Lost & Found Series Vol 2 |  | King Solomon Hill  | Down On My Bended Knee (tk. 2)  | Country Southern Blues  | Charles 'Cow Cow' Davenport  | That'll Get It  | Complete Recorded Works, Vol. 2  (1929-1945)  | Paul Cowley  | World Gone Crazy  | Stroll Out West  |   | Tony Joe White  | Cool Town Woman  | Bad Mouthin' (2018)  | Papa Charlie Jackson  | Salty Dog Blues (Take 2)  | Papa Charlie Jackson Vol 1 (1924-1926)

She's truly a study in contrasts – right from her chosen moniker, Sunny War.  Her story is an utterly extraordinary one, in terms of both her brilliant musical arc and her often-tumultuous life journey. She spent much of her teens and early 20s as an itinerant busker, living where she could, sometimes hopping trains around the States, experiencing trouble with the law, and battling drug and alcohol addiction. All along, Sunny War's lone constant companion – her true lifeline – has been her guitar.  The folk/ punk/ gospel/ blues artist was born Sydney Ward into a musical family in Nashville, steeped in rock, folk, and classical music, and started playing guitar as a child. Moving to L.A., she discovered punk rock in her early teens, which led her to a true DIY musical apprenticeship busking on the streets of Venice Beach. It was there that she began to develop her unique artistic voice, one that utterly transcends genre and era. She cites the influence of everyone from 1930s blues greats like Robert Johnson and Skip James, to 1980s reggae/punk firebrands Bad Brains and current experimental rap artist JPEGMafia.  Her 2022 album Anarchist Gospel was mainly written in the wake of a devastating breakup, in the loneliest depths of the pandemic, just before she decided to pull up stakes and move back to Tennessee. There, she made this album with producer Adrija Tokic (who has worked on albums by folks like Alabama Shakes and Hurray for the Riff Raff) and with collaborators like roots music heavyweights Allison Russell and David Rawlings.  Anarchist Gospel draws on the sense of duality that's at the heart of her work – these are heart-rending songs about romantic pain, family strife, and doomy environmental woes, yet the album overall is somehow strangely uplifting.  We hear that in the songs she shares with us in this episode of Hidden Track: "New Day", "Whole", and "No Reason". She performed them solo in a breathtakingly intimate session, as she travelled through Alberta playing a pair of wintertime music festivals. Travelling solo, of course!  Hidden Track Sessions are produced by CKUA Radio and is made possible by the generous contributions of our donors. Find out how you can get involved at ckua.com/donate! 

Meu nome é Nanda Moura e eu vim cantar o meu Blues pra vocês!” Assim começa uma viagem musical pelo Blues das décadas de 20, 30 e 40 do século passado. Nanda Moura é cantora e guitarrista, estudiosa do Blues Tradicional. Com uma carreira sólida e em constante ascensão, Nanda tem sido destaque na cena de Blues Nacional, e bem reconhecida pelos principais nomes do estilo no Brasil. Já dividiu palco com artistas renomados do Blues nacional, como Greg Wilson, Maurício Sahady, Otávio Rocha, Álamo Leal, Flávio Guimarães, Jefferson Gonçalves e Blues Etílicos. Já se apresentou em palcos consagrados como o Best of Blues and Rock, Rio Montreux 2023, Cosquín Rock (Argentina), Bourbon Street Festival, Circo Voador, e Mississippi Delta Blues Festival. Releituras criativas de clássicos de Blind Willie Johnson, Son House, Robert Johnson, Skip James, e Memphis Minnie, entre outros são organizadas em um repertório cuidadoso, para instigar as mais sinceras emoções do público. Com uma performance vocal impecável, e riffs hipnotizantes na guitarra, suas apresentações são fortes e marcantes, espetáculos para ficar na memória.

Buffalo Nichols believes in the power of acoustic country blues. He also believes it's not a fossil, trapped in amber, but a living, breathing musical genre. Which is why he blends elements of the tradition—slide guitar, resonator, open tunings, themes of loss, redemption, and struggle—with loops, samples, drum machines, myriad effects, and modern-day narratives. His new album, The Fatalist, is the culmination of his art to date. Listening to its echoes of Skip James, John Hurt, Pink Floyd, and Dr. Dre is an even stranger experience when you know Nichols started his career in the thundering, downstroke-chiseled trenches of the Midwest metal scene.When you watch this Rig Rundown, Nichols will explain, and play, it all—it's a fascinating story. And the gear! Get ready for a feast, full of the trad and the rad.Brought to you by D'Addario: https://ddar.io/wykyk-rrand D'Addario XS Strings: https://ddar.io/xs-rr

Vera Sola (Danielle Aykroyd) is an American-Canadian singer, multi-instrumentalist, writer and much more. After studying poetry and literature at Harvard, Sola fell into music and released her debut album 'Shades' (2018) to critical acclaim. She continues her brand of captivating and almost hypnotizing  Americana on her sophomore album 'Peacemaker' (2024), as she continues to explore and define her own musicality. We spoke about Peacemaker, a drive towards exceptionalism, songwriting, Skip James and the Delta Blues, purging emotions, honesty and truth, and a lot more! (04/12/2023)Interview by: Robin HignellSupport the showThank you for listening! For more interviews with your favorite artists visit the FaceCulture YouTube channel.

Chet Baker – The Thrill Is Gone – Vocal Version – 2:51 Greetje Bijma – Painter at Work – 2:34 Oscar Brown, Jr. – Bid ‘Em In – 1:28 Skip James – Hard Time Killin’ Floor Blues – 2:52 Jelly Roll Morton – Mamie’s Blues – 2:54 Archie Shepp – Malcolm, Malcolm – Semper Malcolm […]

Nous allons ouvrir un gros dossier :  "Crossroad blues ». Cet épisode va nous permettre de parler du morceau mythique et fondateur « Crossroad» ou crossroad blues et l'histoire des début discographique du blues, De Cream le premier supergroupe de l'histoire du rock, et pour finir  du mythe de Robert Johnson et du ramassis de conneries qui l'accompagnent. Cet épisode sera donc en 3 parties…. PLAYLIST The Bonzo Dog Band, "Can Blue Men Sing the Whites ?" "One O' Them Things" The Victor Military Band, "Memphis Blues" Ciro's Club Coon Orchestra, "St. Louis Blues" Bert Williams, "I'm Sorry I Ain't Got It You Could Have It If I Had It Blues", Mamie Smith, "Crazy Blues" Ma Rainey, "See See Rider Blues" Bessie Smith, "Give Me a Pigfoot and a Bottle of Beer" Reese DuPree, "Norfolk Blues" Papa Charlie Jackson, "Airy Man Blues" Blind Blake, "Southern Rag" Blind Lemon Jefferson, "Got the Blues" Big Bill Broonzy, "The Glory of Love" Son House, Mississippi County Farm Blues" Skip James, "Twenty-Two Twenty Blues" Skip James, "Hard Time Killing Floor Blues" Charlie Patton, "Poor Me" The Mississippi Sheiks, "Sitting on Top of the World" Tommy Johnson, "Big Road Blues" The Staple Singers, "Will The Circle Be Unbroken" Robert Johnson, "Crossroads" Willie Brown, "M&O Blues" Howlin' Wolf, "Smokestack Lightnin' Charlie Patton, "34 Blues" John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers, "It Ain't Right" Alexis Korner et Davey Graham, "3/4 AD" John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers, "Crawling up a Hill (45 version)" Blues Incorporated, "Hoochie Coochie Man (BBC session)" " At the Jazz Band Ball" The Don Rendell Quintet, "Manumission" Duffy Power, "I Saw Her Standing There" The Graham Bond Quartet, "Ho Ho Country Kicking Blues (Live at Klooks Kleek)" The Graham Bond Organisation, "Long Tall Shorty" Duffy Power, "Parchman Farm" Bande Annonce : Gonks Go Beat !

 | Artist  | Title  | Album Name  | Album Copyright | John Hammond  | Drop Down Mama  | Timeless (2014)  |  | Martin Wood  | Mean Old Frisco(Crudup)  | Candy Apple Shoes  |  | Adam Franklin  | 05 Biscuit Honeymoon  | England's Newest Hit Maker - The Best Of Adam Franklin | Martin Wood  | Lonely Avenue (Pomus)  | Candy Apple Shoes  |  | Mean Mary  | Bridge Out  | Portrait of a Woman Part 1 | Corey Harris & Henry Butler  | If You Let A Man Kick You Once  | Vu-Du Menz  |  | Skip James  | Devil Got My Woman  | Hard Time Killing Floor Blues | Martin Wood  | Turn It Around (Wood)  | Candy Apple Shoes  |  | Andres Roots  | All In The Cards  | Winter  |   |  | Big Bill Broonzy  | Partnership Woman  | Big Bill Broonzy Vol 12 (1945-1947) | Corey Harris & Henry Butler*  | L'Espirit de James  | Vu-Du Menz  |  | Stomping Dave Allen and Earl Jackson  | Fishing Blues  | Stompin' The Blues  |  | Dik Banovich  |  Omie Wise  | In Transit  |   |  | Furry Lewis  | Cannonball Blues  | In His Prime 1927-1928

 | Artist  | Title  | Album Name  | Album Copyright  |  | Charles -Cow Cow- Davenport  | Everybody Likes That Thing  | Complete Recorded Works, Vol. 2  (1929-1945) | Otis Spann  | One More Mile to Go  | The Blues Never Die!  |  | J.B. Lenoir  | Slow Down Woman  | American Folk Blues Festival 1962-1965  CD5 | Paul Rishell  | Special Rider Blues [Skip James]  | Talkin' Guitar  |   |  | Big Bill Broonzy  | Double Trouble Blues  | Do That Guitar Rag  |   |  | John Hammond  |  Drop Down Mama  | Timeless  |   |   |  | Lightnin' Hopkins  | I'm Comin' Home  | Morning Blues - Charley Blues Masterworks Vol. 8 | Mike Ross  | None Of Your Business  | Tennessee Transition  |  | Seasick Steve  | Man From Another Time  | Man From Another Time  |  | Henry Townsend  | Henry's Worry Blues  | Searching For Secret Heroes  | Document Records  |  | Duster Bennett  | Got A Tongue In Your Head  | Smiling Like I'm Happy (Vinyl) - 1968  | Fiona Boyes  | Easy Baby  | Fiona Boyes Box & Dice promo  |  | Half Deaf Clatch  | Astrally Challenged  | Short Songs for the Barely Conscious | Skip James  | Omaha Blues  | Studio Sessions Rare & Unreleased | Bill Abel  | Special Rider  | Celestial Train  |   |  | Tampa Red  | You Can't Come In  | Tampa Red Vol. 1 (1928-1929)  | 

On his third album, as on his previous recordings, Ry Cooder presents the result of a musical treasure hunt that is also a journey through time. Boomer's Story (1972) looks to masters like Sleepy John Estes and Skip James, but also to younger, lost and neglected pieces of American folk and blues. Episode 6 of the podcast also introduces many Cooder sessions from 1972-73.This podcast frequently uses small snippets of musical recordings in podcast episodes for educational, review, and commentary purposes. In all cases, without exception, we believe this is protected by fair use in the U.S., fair dealing in the U.K. and EEA, and similar exceptions in the copyright laws of other nations. No more of the original than necessary is used, and excerpts are edited into long-form narratives, making the use transformative in nature.Written, produced and edited by Frank SchnelleTheme and background music by Chris HaugenFollow us on Facebook, Instagram, Tik Tok and YouTubeThe Ry Cooder Story WebsiteSupport us on Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The early Newport Folk Festivals ( 1963-66) were the stage for the re-discovery of some of Americans' deepest "roots" music...Folklorists and 78rpm Record Collectors such as Ralph Rinzler, Alan Lomax, Dick Spottswood and Dick Waterman resurrected the careers and music of MISSISSIPPI JOHN HURT, SON HOUSE, SKIP JAMEs, MAYBELLE CARTER, ROBERT WILKINS, ECK ROBERTSON, DORSEY DIXON and others - Most of these artists had been living in obscurity , many assumed deceased only having gained a bit of recognition in 1952 with the release of Harry Smith's ANTHOLOGY OF AMERICAN FOLK MUSIC record album set. At Newport they were seen by 1000s and careers were rebuilt- This episode of American Grooves plays the ORIGINAL 1920s-30s recordings of some of those artists RESURRECTED AT NEWPORT --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/american-grooves-hour/support

El lema de esta penúltima edición de Ruta 61 es sencillo pero significativo: el blues tuvo un hijo y lo llamaron roc'n'rol. Playlist: Snatch It Back and Hold It – Junior Wells; I'm A King Bee – The Rolling Stones; I'm A King Bee – Slim Harpo; I'm A Lover Not A Fighter – The Kinks; I'm A Lover Not A Fighter – Lazy Lester; The Blues Had A Baby And They Named It Rock And Roll – Muddy Waters; Ball and Chain – Big Mama Thornton; Ball And Chain – Janis Joplin; Back Door Man – The Doors; Back Door Man – Howlin' Wolf; Hard Time Killin' Floor Blues – Skip James; Hard Time Killing Floor – Pura Fé; Crow Jane – Skip James; Crow Jane – Samantha Fish; Wassulu Don – Oumou Sangaré. Escuchar audio

Happy Independence Day! Jake is celebrating the Fourth of July by looking back on clips from past DISGRACELAND episodes that best demonstrate the America that we know and love. Featuring scenes about Ray Charles and the aftermath of 9/11, Skip James and the Washington Monument, Frank Sinatra and the Kennedys, the Grateful Dead's Pigpen and the old, weird America, and many more. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Episode 166 of A History of Rock Music in Five Hundred Songs looks at “Crossroads", Cream, the myth of Robert Johnson, and whether white men can sing the blues. Click the full post to read liner notes, links to more information, and a transcript of the episode. Patreon backers also have a forty-eight-minute bonus episode available, on “Tip-Toe Thru' the Tulips" by Tiny Tim. Tilt Araiza has assisted invaluably by doing a first-pass edit, and will hopefully be doing so from now on. Check out Tilt's irregular podcasts at http://www.podnose.com/jaffa-cakes-for-proust and http://sitcomclub.com/ Errata I talk about an interview with Clapton from 1967, I meant 1968. I mention a Graham Bond live recording from 1953, and of course meant 1963. I say Paul Jones was on vocals in the Powerhouse sessions. Steve Winwood was on vocals, and Jones was on harmonica. Resources As I say at the end, the main resource you need to get if you enjoyed this episode is Brother Robert by Annye Anderson, Robert Johnson's stepsister. There are three Mixcloud mixes this time. As there are so many songs by Cream, Robert Johnson, John Mayall, and Graham Bond excerpted, and Mixcloud won't allow more than four songs by the same artist in any mix, I've had to post the songs not in quite the same order in which they appear in the podcast. But the mixes are here -- one, two, three. This article on Mack McCormick gives a fuller explanation of the problems with his research and behaviour. The other books I used for the Robert Johnson sections were McCormick's Biography of a Phantom; Up Jumped the Devil: The Real Life of Robert Johnson, by Bruce Conforth and Gayle Dean Wardlow; Searching for Robert Johnson by Peter Guralnick; and Escaping the Delta by Elijah Wald. I can recommend all of these subject to the caveats at the end of the episode. The information on the history and prehistory of the Delta blues mostly comes from Before Elvis by Larry Birnbaum, with some coming from Charley Patton by John Fahey. The information on Cream comes mostly from Cream: How Eric Clapton Took the World by Storm by Dave Thompson. I also used Ginger Baker: Hellraiser by Ginger Baker and Ginette Baker, Mr Showbiz by Stephen Dando-Collins, Motherless Child by Paul Scott, and  Alexis Korner: The Biography by Harry Shapiro. The best collection of Cream's work is the four-CD set Those Were the Days, which contains every track the group ever released while they were together (though only the stereo mixes of the albums, and a couple of tracks are in slightly different edits from the originals). You can get Johnson's music on many budget compilation records, as it's in the public domain in the EU, but the double CD collection produced by Steve LaVere for Sony in 2011 is, despite the problems that come from it being associated with LaVere, far and away the best option -- the remasters have a clarity that's worlds ahead of even the 1990s CD version it replaced. And for a good single-CD introduction to the Delta blues musicians and songsters who were Johnson's peers and inspirations, Back to the Crossroads: The Roots of Robert Johnson, compiled by Elijah Wald as a companion to his book on Johnson, can't be beaten, and contains many of the tracks excerpted in this episode. Patreon This podcast is brought to you by the generosity of my backers on Patreon. Why not join them? Transcript Before we start, a quick note that this episode contains discussion of racism, drug addiction, and early death. There's also a brief mention of death in childbirth and infant mortality. It's been a while since we looked at the British blues movement, and at the blues in general, so some of you may find some of what follows familiar, as we're going to look at some things we've talked about previously, but from a different angle. In 1968, the Bonzo Dog Band, a comedy musical band that have been described as the missing link between the Beatles and the Monty Python team, released a track called "Can Blue Men Sing the Whites?": [Excerpt: The Bonzo Dog Band, "Can Blue Men Sing the Whites?"] That track was mocking a discussion that was very prominent in Britain's music magazines around that time. 1968 saw the rise of a *lot* of British bands who started out as blues bands, though many of them went on to different styles of music -- Fleetwood Mac, Ten Years After, Jethro Tull, Chicken Shack and others were all becoming popular among the kind of people who read the music magazines, and so the question was being asked -- can white men sing the blues? Of course, the answer to that question was obvious. After all, white men *invented* the blues. Before we get any further at all, I have to make clear that I do *not* mean that white people created blues music. But "the blues" as a category, and particularly the idea of it as a music made largely by solo male performers playing guitar... that was created and shaped by the actions of white male record executives. There is no consensus as to when or how the blues as a genre started -- as we often say in this podcast "there is no first anything", but like every genre it seems to have come from multiple sources. In the case of the blues, there's probably some influence from African music by way of field chants sung by enslaved people, possibly some influence from Arabic music as well, definitely some influence from the Irish and British folk songs that by the late nineteenth century were developing into what we now call country music, a lot from ragtime, and a lot of influence from vaudeville and minstrel songs -- which in turn themselves were all very influenced by all those other things. Probably the first published composition to show any real influence of the blues is from 1904, a ragtime piano piece by James Chapman and Leroy Smith, "One O' Them Things": [Excerpt: "One O' Them Things"] That's not very recognisable as a blues piece yet, but it is more-or-less a twelve-bar blues. But the blues developed, and it developed as a result of a series of commercial waves. The first of these came in 1914, with the success of W.C. Handy's "Memphis Blues", which when it was recorded by the Victor Military Band for a phonograph cylinder became what is generally considered the first blues record proper: [Excerpt: The Victor Military Band, "Memphis Blues"] The famous dancers Vernon and Irene Castle came up with a dance, the foxtrot -- which Vernon Castle later admitted was largely inspired by Black dancers -- to be danced to the "Memphis Blues", and the foxtrot soon overtook the tango, which the Castles had introduced to the US the previous year, to become the most popular dance in America for the best part of three decades. And with that came an explosion in blues in the Handy style, cranked out by every music publisher. While the blues was a style largely created by Black performers and writers, the segregated nature of the American music industry at the time meant that most vocal performances of these early blues that were captured on record were by white performers, Black vocalists at this time only rarely getting the chance to record. The first blues record with a Black vocalist is also technically the first British blues record. A group of Black musicians, apparently mostly American but led by a Jamaican pianist, played at Ciro's Club in London, and recorded many tracks in Britain, under a name which I'm not going to say in full -- it started with Ciro's Club, and continued alliteratively with another word starting with C, a slur for Black people. In 1917 they recorded a vocal version of "St. Louis Blues", another W.C. Handy composition: [Excerpt: Ciro's Club C**n Orchestra, "St. Louis Blues"] The first American Black blues vocal didn't come until two years later, when Bert Williams, a Black minstrel-show performer who like many Black performers of his era performed in blackface even though he was Black, recorded “I'm Sorry I Ain't Got It You Could Have It If I Had It Blues,” [Excerpt: Bert Williams, "I'm Sorry I Ain't Got It You Could Have It If I Had It Blues,”] But it wasn't until 1920 that the second, bigger, wave of popularity started for the blues, and this time it started with the first record of a Black *woman* singing the blues -- Mamie Smith's "Crazy Blues": [Excerpt: Mamie Smith, "Crazy Blues"] You can hear the difference between that and anything we've heard up to that point -- that's the first record that anyone from our perspective, a hundred and three years later, would listen to and say that it bore any resemblance to what we think of as the blues -- so much so that many places still credit it as the first ever blues record. And there's a reason for that. "Crazy Blues" was one of those records that separates the music industry into before and after, like "Rock Around the Clock", "I Want to Hold Your Hand", Sgt Pepper, or "Rapper's Delight". It sold seventy-five thousand copies in its first month -- a massive number by the standards of 1920 -- and purportedly went on to sell over a million copies. Sales figures and market analysis weren't really a thing in the same way in 1920, but even so it became very obvious that "Crazy Blues" was a big hit, and that unlike pretty much any other previous records, it was a big hit among Black listeners, which meant that there was a market for music aimed at Black people that was going untapped. Soon all the major record labels were setting up subsidiaries devoted to what they called "race music", music made by and for Black people. And this sees the birth of what is now known as "classic blues", but at the time (and for decades after) was just what people thought of when they thought of "the blues" as a genre. This was music primarily sung by female vaudeville artists backed by jazz bands, people like Ma Rainey (whose earliest recordings featured Louis Armstrong in her backing band): [Excerpt: Ma Rainey, "See See Rider Blues"] And Bessie Smith, the "Empress of the Blues", who had a massive career in the 1920s before the Great Depression caused many of these "race record" labels to fold, but who carried on performing well into the 1930s -- her last recording was in 1933, produced by John Hammond, with a backing band including Benny Goodman and Jack Teagarden: [Excerpt: Bessie Smith, "Give Me a Pigfoot and a Bottle of Beer"] It wouldn't be until several years after the boom started by Mamie Smith that any record companies turned to recording Black men singing the blues accompanied by guitar or banjo. The first record of this type is probably "Norfolk Blues" by Reese DuPree from 1924: [Excerpt: Reese DuPree, "Norfolk Blues"] And there were occasional other records of this type, like "Airy Man Blues" by Papa Charlie Jackson, who was advertised as the “only man living who sings, self-accompanied, for Blues records.” [Excerpt: Papa Charlie Jackson, "Airy Man Blues"] But contrary to the way these are seen today, at the time they weren't seen as being in some way "authentic", or "folk music". Indeed, there are many quotes from folk-music collectors of the time (sadly all of them using so many slurs that it's impossible for me to accurately quote them) saying that when people sang the blues, that wasn't authentic Black folk music at all but an adulteration from commercial music -- they'd clearly, according to these folk-music scholars, learned the blues style from records and sheet music rather than as part of an oral tradition. Most of these performers were people who recorded blues as part of a wider range of material, like Blind Blake, who recorded some blues music but whose best work was his ragtime guitar instrumentals: [Excerpt: Blind Blake, "Southern Rag"] But it was when Blind Lemon Jefferson started recording for Paramount records in 1926 that the image of the blues as we now think of it took shape. His first record, "Got the Blues", was a massive success: [Excerpt: Blind Lemon Jefferson, "Got the Blues"] And this resulted in many labels, especially Paramount, signing up pretty much every Black man with a guitar they could find in the hopes of finding another Blind Lemon Jefferson. But the thing is, this generation of people making blues records, and the generation that followed them, didn't think of themselves as "blues singers" or "bluesmen". They were songsters. Songsters were entertainers, and their job was to sing and play whatever the audiences would want to hear. That included the blues, of course, but it also included... well, every song anyone would want to hear.  They'd perform old folk songs, vaudeville songs, songs that they'd heard on the radio or the jukebox -- whatever the audience wanted. Robert Johnson, for example, was known to particularly love playing polka music, and also adored the records of Jimmie Rodgers, the first country music superstar. In 1941, when Alan Lomax first recorded Muddy Waters, he asked Waters what kind of songs he normally played in performances, and he was given a list that included "Home on the Range", Gene Autry's "I've Got Spurs That Jingle Jangle Jingle", and Glenn Miller's "Chattanooga Choo-Choo". We have few recordings of these people performing this kind of song though. One of the few we have is Big Bill Broonzy, who was just about the only artist of this type not to get pigeonholed as just a blues singer, even though blues is what made him famous, and who later in his career managed to record songs like the Tin Pan Alley standard "The Glory of Love": [Excerpt: Big Bill Broonzy, "The Glory of Love"] But for the most part, the image we have of the blues comes down to one man, Arthur Laibley, a sales manager for the Wisconsin Chair Company. The Wisconsin Chair Company was, as the name would suggest, a company that started out making wooden chairs, but it had branched out into other forms of wooden furniture -- including, for a brief time, large wooden phonographs. And, like several other manufacturers, like the Radio Corporation of America -- RCA -- and the Gramophone Company, which became EMI, they realised that if they were going to sell the hardware it made sense to sell the software as well, and had started up Paramount Records, which bought up a small label, Black Swan, and soon became the biggest manufacturer of records for the Black market, putting out roughly a quarter of all "race records" released between 1922 and 1932. At first, most of these were produced by a Black talent scout, J. Mayo Williams, who had been the first person to record Ma Rainey, Papa Charlie Jackson, and Blind Lemon Jefferson, but in 1927 Williams left Paramount, and the job of supervising sessions went to Arthur Laibley, though according to some sources a lot of the actual production work was done by Aletha Dickerson, Williams' former assistant, who was almost certainly the first Black woman to be what we would now think of as a record producer. Williams had been interested in recording all kinds of music by Black performers, but when Laibley got a solo Black man into the studio, what he wanted more than anything was for him to record the blues, ideally in a style as close as possible to that of Blind Lemon Jefferson. Laibley didn't have a very hands-on approach to recording -- indeed Paramount had very little concern about the quality of their product anyway, and Paramount's records are notorious for having been put out on poor-quality shellac and recorded badly -- and he only occasionally made actual suggestions as to what kind of songs his performers should write -- for example he asked Son House to write something that sounded like Blind Lemon Jefferson, which led to House writing and recording "Mississippi County Farm Blues", which steals the tune of Jefferson's "See That My Grave is Kept Clean": [Excerpt: Son House, "Mississippi County Farm Blues"] When Skip James wanted to record a cover of James Wiggins' "Forty-Four Blues", Laibley suggested that instead he should do a song about a different gun, and so James recorded "Twenty-Two Twenty Blues": [Excerpt: Skip James, "Twenty-Two Twenty Blues"] And Laibley also suggested that James write a song about the Depression, which led to one of the greatest blues records ever, "Hard Time Killing Floor Blues": [Excerpt: Skip James, "Hard Time Killing Floor Blues"] These musicians knew that they were getting paid only for issued sides, and that Laibley wanted only blues from them, and so that's what they gave him. Even when it was a performer like Charlie Patton. (Incidentally, for those reading this as a transcript rather than listening to it, Patton's name is more usually spelled ending in ey, but as far as I can tell ie was his preferred spelling and that's what I'm using). Charlie Patton was best known as an entertainer, first and foremost -- someone who would do song-and-dance routines, joke around, play guitar behind his head. He was a clown on stage, so much so that when Son House finally heard some of Patton's records, in the mid-sixties, decades after the fact, he was astonished that Patton could actually play well. Even though House had been in the room when some of the records were made, his memory of Patton was of someone who acted the fool on stage. That's definitely not the impression you get from the Charlie Patton on record: [Excerpt: Charlie Patton, "Poor Me"] Patton is, as far as can be discerned, the person who was most influential in creating the music that became called the "Delta blues". Not a lot is known about Patton's life, but he was almost certainly the half-brother of the Chatmon brothers, who made hundreds of records, most notably as members of the Mississippi Sheiks: [Excerpt: The Mississippi Sheiks, "Sitting on Top of the World"] In the 1890s, Patton's family moved to Sunflower County, Mississippi, and he lived in and around that county until his death in 1934. Patton learned to play guitar from a musician called Henry Sloan, and then Patton became a mentor figure to a *lot* of other musicians in and around the plantation on which his family lived. Some of the musicians who grew up in the immediate area around Patton included Tommy Johnson: [Excerpt: Tommy Johnson, "Big Road Blues"] Pops Staples: [Excerpt: The Staple Singers, "Will The Circle Be Unbroken"] Robert Johnson: [Excerpt: Robert Johnson, "Crossroads"] Willie Brown, a musician who didn't record much, but who played a lot with Patton, Son House, and Robert Johnson and who we just heard Johnson sing about: [Excerpt: Willie Brown, "M&O Blues"] And Chester Burnett, who went on to become known as Howlin' Wolf, and whose vocal style was equally inspired by Patton and by the country star Jimmie Rodgers: [Excerpt: Howlin' Wolf, "Smokestack Lightnin'"] Once Patton started his own recording career for Paramount, he also started working as a talent scout for them, and it was him who brought Son House to Paramount. Soon after the Depression hit, Paramount stopped recording, and so from 1930 through 1934 Patton didn't make any records. He was tracked down by an A&R man in January 1934 and recorded one final session: [Excerpt, Charlie Patton, "34 Blues"] But he died of heart failure two months later. But his influence spread through his proteges, and they themselves influenced other musicians from the area who came along a little after, like Robert Lockwood and Muddy Waters. This music -- or that portion of it that was considered worth recording by white record producers, only a tiny, unrepresentative, portion of their vast performing repertoires -- became known as the Delta Blues, and when some of these musicians moved to Chicago and started performing with electric instruments, it became Chicago Blues. And as far as people like John Mayall in Britain were concerned, Delta and Chicago Blues *were* the blues: [Excerpt: John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers, "It Ain't Right"] John Mayall was one of the first of the British blues obsessives, and for a long time thought of himself as the only one. While we've looked before at the growth of the London blues scene, Mayall wasn't from London -- he was born in Macclesfield and grew up in Cheadle Hulme, both relatively well-off suburbs of Manchester, and after being conscripted and doing two years in the Army, he had become an art student at Manchester College of Art, what is now Manchester Metropolitan University. Mayall had been a blues fan from the late 1940s, writing off to the US to order records that hadn't been released in the UK, and by most accounts by the late fifties he'd put together the biggest blues collection in Britain by quite some way. Not only that, but he had one of the earliest home tape recorders, and every night he would record radio stations from Continental Europe which were broadcasting for American service personnel, so he'd amassed mountains of recordings, often unlabelled, of obscure blues records that nobody else in the UK knew about. He was also an accomplished pianist and guitar player, and in 1956 he and his drummer friend Peter Ward had put together a band called the Powerhouse Four (the other two members rotated on a regular basis) mostly to play lunchtime jazz sessions at the art college. Mayall also started putting on jam sessions at a youth club in Wythenshawe, where he met another drummer named Hughie Flint. Over the late fifties and into the early sixties, Mayall more or less by himself built up a small blues scene in Manchester. The Manchester blues scene was so enthusiastic, in fact, that when the American Folk Blues Festival, an annual European tour which initially featured Willie Dixon, Memhis Slim, T-Bone Walker, Sonny Terry & Brownie McGhee, and John Lee Hooker, first toured Europe, the only UK date it played was at the Manchester Free Trade Hall, and people like Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Brian Jones and Jimmy Page had to travel up from London to see it. But still, the number of blues fans in Manchester, while proportionally large, was objectively small enough that Mayall was captivated by an article in Melody Maker which talked about Alexis Korner and Cyril Davies' new band Blues Incorporated and how it was playing electric blues, the same music he was making in Manchester. He later talked about how the article had made him think that maybe now people would know what he was talking about. He started travelling down to London to play gigs for the London blues scene, and inviting Korner up to Manchester to play shows there. Soon Mayall had moved down to London. Korner introduced Mayall to Davey Graham, the great folk guitarist, with whom Korner had recently recorded as a duo: [Excerpt: Alexis Korner and Davey Graham, "3/4 AD"] Mayall and Graham performed together as a duo for a while, but Graham was a natural solo artist if ever there was one. Slowly Mayall put a band together in London. On drums was his old friend Peter Ward, who'd moved down from Manchester with him. On bass was John McVie, who at the time knew nothing about blues -- he'd been playing in a Shadows-style instrumental group -- but Mayall gave him a stack of blues records to listen to to get the feeling. And on guitar was Bernie Watson, who had previously played with Screaming Lord Sutch and the Savages. In late 1963, Mike Vernon, a blues fan who had previously published a Yardbirds fanzine, got a job working for Decca records, and immediately started signing his favourite acts from the London blues circuit. The first act he signed was John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers, and they recorded a single, "Crawling up a Hill": [Excerpt: John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers, "Crawling up a Hill (45 version)"] Mayall later called that a "clumsy, half-witted attempt at autobiographical comment", and it sold only five hundred copies. It would be the only record the Bluesbreakers would make with Watson, who soon left the band to be replaced by Roger Dean (not the same Roger Dean who later went on to design prog rock album covers). The second group to be signed by Mike Vernon to Decca was the Graham Bond Organisation. We've talked about the Graham Bond Organisation in passing several times, but not for a while and not in any great detail, so it's worth pulling everything we've said about them so far together and going through it in a little more detail. The Graham Bond Organisation, like the Rolling Stones, grew out of Alexis Korner's Blues Incorporated. As we heard in the episode on "I Wanna Be Your Man" a couple of years ago, Blues Incorporated had been started by Alexis Korner and Cyril Davies, and at the time we're joining them in 1962 featured a drummer called Charlie Watts, a pianist called Dave Stevens, and saxophone player Dick Heckstall-Smith, as well as frequent guest performers like a singer who called himself Mike Jagger, and another one, Roderick Stewart. That group finally found themselves the perfect bass player when Dick Heckstall-Smith put together a one-off group of jazz players to play an event at Cambridge University. At the gig, a little Scottish man came up to the group and told them he played bass and asked if he could sit in. They told him to bring along his instrument to their second set, that night, and he did actually bring along a double bass. Their bluff having been called, they decided to play the most complicated, difficult, piece they knew in order to throw the kid off -- the drummer, a trad jazz player named Ginger Baker, didn't like performing with random sit-in guests -- but astonishingly he turned out to be really good. Heckstall-Smith took down the bass player's name and phone number and invited him to a jam session with Blues Incorporated. After that jam session, Jack Bruce quickly became the group's full-time bass player. Bruce had started out as a classical cellist, but had switched to the double bass inspired by Bach, who he referred to as "the guv'nor of all bass players". His playing up to this point had mostly been in trad jazz bands, and he knew nothing of the blues, but he quickly got the hang of the genre. Bruce's first show with Blues Incorporated was a BBC recording: [Excerpt: Blues Incorporated, "Hoochie Coochie Man (BBC session)"] According to at least one source it was not being asked to take part in that session that made young Mike Jagger decide there was no future for him with Blues Incorporated and to spend more time with his other group, the Rollin' Stones. Soon after, Charlie Watts would join him, for almost the opposite reason -- Watts didn't want to be in a band that was getting as big as Blues Incorporated were. They were starting to do more BBC sessions and get more gigs, and having to join the Musicians' Union. That seemed like a lot of work. Far better to join a band like the Rollin' Stones that wasn't going anywhere. Because of Watts' decision to give up on potential stardom to become a Rollin' Stone, they needed a new drummer, and luckily the best drummer on the scene was available. But then the best drummer on the scene was *always* available. Ginger Baker had first played with Dick Heckstall-Smith several years earlier, in a trad group called the Storyville Jazzmen. There Baker had become obsessed with the New Orleans jazz drummer Baby Dodds, who had played with Louis Armstrong in the 1920s. Sadly because of 1920s recording technology, he hadn't been able to play a full kit on the recordings with Armstrong, being limited to percussion on just a woodblock, but you can hear his drumming style much better in this version of "At the Jazz Band Ball" from 1947, with Mugsy Spanier, Jack Teagarden, Cyrus St. Clair and Hank Duncan: [Excerpt: "At the Jazz Band Ball"] Baker had taken Dobbs' style and run with it, and had quickly become known as the single best player, bar none, on the London jazz scene -- he'd become an accomplished player in multiple styles, and was also fluent in reading music and arranging. He'd also, though, become known as the single person on the entire scene who was most difficult to get along with. He resigned from his first band onstage, shouting "You can stick your band up your arse", after the band's leader had had enough of him incorporating bebop influences into their trad style. Another time, when touring with Diz Disley's band, he was dumped in Germany with no money and no way to get home, because the band were so sick of him. Sometimes this was because of his temper and his unwillingness to suffer fools -- and he saw everyone else he ever met as a fool -- and sometimes it was because of his own rigorous musical ideas. He wanted to play music *his* way, and wouldn't listen to anyone who told him different. Both of these things got worse after he fell under the influence of a man named Phil Seaman, one of the only drummers that Baker respected at all. Seaman introduced Baker to African drumming, and Baker started incorporating complex polyrhythms into his playing as a result. Seaman also though introduced Baker to heroin, and while being a heroin addict in the UK in the 1960s was not as difficult as it later became -- both heroin and cocaine were available on prescription to registered addicts, and Baker got both, which meant that many of the problems that come from criminalisation of these drugs didn't affect addicts in the same way -- but it still did not, by all accounts, make him an easier person to get along with. But he *was* a fantastic drummer. As Dick Heckstall-Smith said "With the advent of Ginger, the classic Blues Incorporated line-up, one which I think could not be bettered, was set" But Alexis Korner decided that the group could be bettered, and he had some backers within the band. One of the other bands on the scene was the Don Rendell Quintet, a group that played soul jazz -- that style of jazz that bridged modern jazz and R&B, the kind of music that Ray Charles and Herbie Hancock played: [Excerpt: The Don Rendell Quintet, "Manumission"] The Don Rendell Quintet included a fantastic multi-instrumentalist, Graham Bond, who doubled on keyboards and saxophone, and Bond had been playing occasional experimental gigs with the Johnny Burch Octet -- a group led by another member of the Rendell Quartet featuring Heckstall-Smith, Bruce, Baker, and a few other musicians, doing wholly-improvised music. Heckstall-Smith, Bruce, and Baker all enjoyed playing with Bond, and when Korner decided to bring him into the band, they were all very keen. But Cyril Davies, the co-leader of the band with Korner, was furious at the idea. Davies wanted to play strict Chicago and Delta blues, and had no truck with other forms of music like R&B and jazz. To his mind it was bad enough that they had a sax player. But the idea that they would bring in Bond, who played sax and... *Hammond* organ? Well, that was practically blasphemy. Davies quit the group at the mere suggestion. Bond was soon in the band, and he, Bruce, and Baker were playing together a *lot*. As well as performing with Blues Incorporated, they continued playing in the Johnny Burch Octet, and they also started performing as the Graham Bond Trio. Sometimes the Graham Bond Trio would be Blues Incorporated's opening act, and on more than one occasion the Graham Bond Trio, Blues Incorporated, and the Johnny Burch Octet all had gigs in different parts of London on the same night and they'd have to frantically get from one to the other. The Graham Bond Trio also had fans in Manchester, thanks to the local blues scene there and their connection with Blues Incorporated, and one night in February 1963 the trio played a gig there. They realised afterwards that by playing as a trio they'd made £70, when they were lucky to make £20 from a gig with Blues Incorporated or the Octet, because there were so many members in those bands. Bond wanted to make real money, and at the next rehearsal of Blues Incorporated he announced to Korner that he, Bruce, and Baker were quitting the band -- which was news to Bruce and Baker, who he hadn't bothered consulting. Baker, indeed, was in the toilet when the announcement was made and came out to find it a done deal. He was going to kick up a fuss and say he hadn't been consulted, but Korner's reaction sealed the deal. As Baker later said "‘he said “it's really good you're doing this thing with Graham, and I wish you the best of luck” and all that. And it was a bit difficult to turn round and say, “Well, I don't really want to leave the band, you know.”'" The Graham Bond Trio struggled at first to get the gigs they were expecting, but that started to change when in April 1963 they became the Graham Bond Quartet, with the addition of virtuoso guitarist John McLaughlin. The Quartet soon became one of the hottest bands on the London R&B scene, and when Duffy Power, a Larry Parnes teen idol who wanted to move into R&B, asked his record label to get him a good R&B band to back him on a Beatles cover, it was the Graham Bond Quartet who obliged: [Excerpt: Duffy Power, "I Saw Her Standing There"] The Quartet also backed Power on a package tour with other Parnes acts, but they were also still performing their own blend of hard jazz and blues, as can be heard in this recording of the group live in June 1953: [Excerpt: The Graham Bond Quartet, "Ho Ho Country Kicking Blues (Live at Klooks Kleek)"] But that lineup of the group didn't last very long. According to the way Baker told the story, he fired McLaughlin from the group, after being irritated by McLaughlin complaining about something on a day when Baker was out of cocaine and in no mood to hear anyone else's complaints. As Baker said "We lost a great guitar player and I lost a good friend." But the Trio soon became a Quartet again, as Dick Heckstall-Smith, who Baker had wanted in the band from the start, joined on saxophone to replace McLaughlin's guitar. But they were no longer called the Graham Bond Quartet. Partly because Heckstall-Smith joining allowed Bond to concentrate just on his keyboard playing, but one suspects partly to protect against any future lineup changes, the group were now The Graham Bond ORGANisation -- emphasis on the organ. The new lineup of the group got signed to Decca by Vernon, and were soon recording their first single, "Long Tall Shorty": [Excerpt: The Graham Bond Organisation, "Long Tall Shorty"] They recorded a few other songs which made their way onto an EP and an R&B compilation, and toured intensively in early 1964, as well as backing up Power on his follow-up to "I Saw Her Standing There", his version of "Parchman Farm": [Excerpt: Duffy Power, "Parchman Farm"] They also appeared in a film, just like the Beatles, though it was possibly not quite as artistically successful as "A Hard Day's Night": [Excerpt: Gonks Go Beat trailer] Gonks Go Beat is one of the most bizarre films of the sixties. It's a far-future remake of Romeo and Juliet. where the two star-crossed lovers are from opposing countries -- Beatland and Ballad Isle -- who only communicate once a year in an annual song contest which acts as their version of a war, and is overseen by "Mr. A&R", played by Frank Thornton, who would later star in Are You Being Served? Carry On star Kenneth Connor is sent by aliens to try to bring peace to the two warring countries, on pain of exile to Planet Gonk, a planet inhabited solely by Gonks (a kind of novelty toy for which there was a short-lived craze then). Along the way Connor encounters such luminaries of British light entertainment as Terry Scott and Arthur Mullard, as well as musical performances by Lulu, the Nashville Teens, and of course the Graham Bond Organisation, whose performance gets them a telling-off from a teacher: [Excerpt: Gonks Go Beat!] The group as a group only performed one song in this cinematic masterpiece, but Baker also made an appearance in a "drum battle" sequence where eight drummers played together: [Excerpt: Gonks Go Beat drum battle] The other drummers in that scene included, as well as some lesser-known players, Andy White who had played on the single version of "Love Me Do", Bobby Graham, who played on hits by the Kinks and the Dave Clark Five, and Ronnie Verrell, who did the drumming for Animal in the Muppet Show. Also in summer 1964, the group performed at the Fourth National Jazz & Blues Festival in Richmond -- the festival co-founded by Chris Barber that would evolve into the Reading Festival. The Yardbirds were on the bill, and at the end of their set they invited Bond, Baker, Bruce, Georgie Fame, and Mike Vernon onto the stage with them, making that the first time that Eric Clapton, Ginger Baker, and Jack Bruce were all on stage together. Soon after that, the Graham Bond Organisation got a new manager, Robert Stigwood. Things hadn't been working out for them at Decca, and Stigwood soon got the group signed to EMI, and became their producer as well. Their first single under Stigwood's management was a cover version of the theme tune to the Debbie Reynolds film "Tammy". While that film had given Tamla records its name, the song was hardly an R&B classic: [Excerpt: The Graham Bond Organisation, "Tammy"] That record didn't chart, but Stigwood put the group out on the road as part of the disastrous Chuck Berry tour we heard about in the episode on "All You Need is Love", which led to the bankruptcy of  Robert Stigwood Associates. The Organisation moved over to Stigwood's new company, the Robert Stigwood Organisation, and Stigwood continued to be the credited producer of their records, though after the "Tammy" disaster they decided they were going to take charge themselves of the actual music. Their first album, The Sound of 65, was recorded in a single three-hour session, and they mostly ran through their standard set -- a mixture of the same songs everyone else on the circuit was playing, like "Hoochie Coochie Man", "Got My Mojo Working", and "Wade in the Water", and originals like Bruce's "Train Time": [Excerpt: The Graham Bond Organisation, "Train Time"] Through 1965 they kept working. They released a non-album single, "Lease on Love", which is generally considered to be the first pop record to feature a Mellotron: [Excerpt: The Graham Bond Organisation, "Lease on Love"] and Bond and Baker also backed another Stigwood act, Winston G, on his debut single: [Excerpt: Winston G, "Please Don't Say"] But the group were developing severe tensions. Bruce and Baker had started out friendly, but by this time they hated each other. Bruce said he couldn't hear his own playing over Baker's loud drumming, Baker thought that Bruce was far too fussy a player and should try to play simpler lines. They'd both try to throw each other during performances, altering arrangements on the fly and playing things that would trip the other player up. And *neither* of them were particularly keen on Bond's new love of the Mellotron, which was all over their second album, giving it a distinctly proto-prog feel at times: [Excerpt: The Graham Bond Organisation, "Baby Can it Be True?"] Eventually at a gig in Golders Green, Baker started throwing drumsticks at Bruce's head while Bruce was trying to play a bass solo. Bruce retaliated by throwing his bass at Baker, and then jumping on him and starting a fistfight which had to be broken up by the venue security. Baker fired Bruce from the band, but Bruce kept turning up to gigs anyway, arguing that Baker had no right to sack him as it was a democracy. Baker always claimed that in fact Bond had wanted to sack Bruce but hadn't wanted to get his hands dirty, and insisted that Baker do it, but neither Bond nor Heckstall-Smith objected when Bruce turned up for the next couple of gigs. So Baker took matters into his own hands, He pulled out a knife and told Bruce "If you show up at one more gig, this is going in you." Within days, Bruce was playing with John Mayall, whose Bluesbreakers had gone through some lineup changes by this point. Roger Dean had only played with the Bluesbreakers for a short time before Mayall had replaced him. Mayall had not been impressed with Eric Clapton's playing with the Yardbirds at first -- even though graffiti saying "Clapton is God" was already starting to appear around London -- but he had been *very* impressed with Clapton's playing on "Got to Hurry", the B-side to "For Your Love": [Excerpt: The Yardbirds, "Got to Hurry"] When he discovered that Clapton had quit the band, he sprang into action and quickly recruited him to replace Dean. Clapton knew he had made the right choice when a month after he'd joined, the group got the word that Bob Dylan had been so impressed with Mayall's single "Crawling up a Hill" -- the one that nobody liked, not even Mayall himself -- that he wanted to jam with Mayall and his band in the studio. Clapton of course went along: [Excerpt: Bob Dylan and the Bluesbreakers, "If You Gotta Go, Go Now"] That was, of course, the session we've talked about in the Velvet Underground episode and elsewhere of which little other than that survives, and which Nico attended. At this point, Mayall didn't have a record contract, his experience recording with Mike Vernon having been no more successful than the Bond group's had been. But soon he got a one-off deal -- as a solo artist, not with the Bluesbreakers -- with Immediate Records. Clapton was the only member of the group to play on the single, which was produced by Immediate's house producer Jimmy Page: [Excerpt: John Mayall, "I'm Your Witchdoctor"] Page was impressed enough with Clapton's playing that he invited him round to Page's house to jam together. But what Clapton didn't know was that Page was taping their jam sessions, and that he handed those tapes over to Immediate Records -- whether he was forced to by his contract with the label or whether that had been his plan all along depends on whose story you believe, but Clapton never truly forgave him. Page and Clapton's guitar-only jams had overdubs by Bill Wyman, Ian Stewart, and drummer Chris Winter, and have been endlessly repackaged on blues compilations ever since: [Excerpt: Jimmy Page and Eric Clapton, "Draggin' My Tail"] But Mayall was having problems with John McVie, who had started to drink too much, and as soon as he found out that Jack Bruce was sacked by the Graham Bond Organisation, Mayall got in touch with Bruce and got him to join the band in McVie's place. Everyone was agreed that this lineup of the band -- Mayall, Clapton, Bruce, and Hughie Flint -- was going places: [Excerpt: John Mayall's Bluesbreakers with Jack Bruce, "Hoochie Coochie Man"] Unfortunately, it wasn't going to last long. Clapton, while he thought that Bruce was the greatest bass player he'd ever worked with, had other plans. He was going to leave the country and travel the world as a peripatetic busker. He was off on his travels, never to return. Luckily, Mayall had someone even better waiting in the wings. A young man had, according to Mayall, "kept coming down to all the gigs and saying, “Hey, what are you doing with him?” – referring to whichever guitarist was onstage that night – “I'm much better than he is. Why don't you let me play guitar for you?” He got really quite nasty about it, so finally, I let him sit in. And he was brilliant." Peter Green was probably the best blues guitarist in London at that time, but this lineup of the Bluesbreakers only lasted a handful of gigs -- Clapton discovered that busking in Greece wasn't as much fun as being called God in London, and came back very soon after he'd left. Mayall had told him that he could have his old job back when he got back, and so Green was out and Clapton was back in. And soon the Bluesbreakers' revolving door revolved again. Manfred Mann had just had a big hit with "If You Gotta Go, Go Now", the same song we heard Dylan playing earlier: [Excerpt: Manfred Mann, "If You Gotta Go, Go Now"] But their guitarist, Mike Vickers, had quit. Tom McGuinness, their bass player, had taken the opportunity to switch back to guitar -- the instrument he'd played in his first band with his friend Eric Clapton -- but that left them short a bass player. Manfred Mann were essentially the same kind of band as the Graham Bond Organisation -- a Hammond-led group of virtuoso multi-instrumentalists who played everything from hardcore Delta blues to complex modern jazz -- but unlike the Bond group they also had a string of massive pop hits, and so made a lot more money. The combination was irresistible to Bruce, and he joined the band just before they recorded an EP of jazz instrumental versions of recent hits: [Excerpt: Manfred Mann, "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction"] Bruce had also been encouraged by Robert Stigwood to do a solo project, and so at the same time as he joined Manfred Mann, he also put out a solo single, "Drinkin' and Gamblin'" [Excerpt: Jack Bruce, "Drinkin' and Gamblin'"] But of course, the reason Bruce had joined Manfred Mann was that they were having pop hits as well as playing jazz, and soon they did just that, with Bruce playing on their number one hit "Pretty Flamingo": [Excerpt: Manfred Mann, "Pretty Flamingo"] So John McVie was back in the Bluesbreakers, promising to keep his drinking under control. Mike Vernon still thought that Mayall had potential, but the people at Decca didn't agree, so Vernon got Mayall and Clapton -- but not the other band members -- to record a single for a small indie label he ran as a side project: [Excerpt: John Mayall and Eric Clapton, "Bernard Jenkins"] That label normally only released records in print runs of ninety-nine copies, because once you hit a hundred copies you had to pay tax on them, but there was so much demand for that single that they ended up pressing up five hundred copies, making it the label's biggest seller ever. Vernon eventually convinced the heads at Decca that the Bluesbreakers could be truly big, and so he got the OK to record the album that would generally be considered the greatest British blues album of all time -- Blues Breakers, also known as the Beano album because of Clapton reading a copy of the British kids' comic The Beano in the group photo on the front. [Excerpt: John Mayall with Eric Clapton, "Ramblin' On My Mind"] The album was a mixture of originals by Mayall and the standard repertoire of every blues or R&B band on the circuit -- songs like "Parchman Farm" and "What'd I Say" -- but what made the album unique was Clapton's guitar tone. Much to the chagrin of Vernon, and of engineer Gus Dudgeon, Clapton insisted on playing at the same volume that he would on stage. Vernon later said of Dudgeon "I can remember seeing his face the very first time Clapton plugged into the Marshall stack and turned it up and started playing at the sort of volume he was going to play. You could almost see Gus's eyes meet over the middle of his nose, and it was almost like he was just going to fall over from the sheer power of it all. But after an enormous amount of fiddling around and moving amps around, we got a sound that worked." [Excerpt: John Mayall with Eric Clapton, "Hideaway"] But by the time the album cane out. Clapton was no longer with the Bluesbreakers. The Graham Bond Organisation had struggled on for a while after Bruce's departure. They brought in a trumpet player, Mike Falana, and even had a hit record -- or at least, the B-side of a hit record. The Who had just put out a hit single, "Substitute", on Robert Stigwood's record label, Reaction: [Excerpt: The Who, "Substitute"] But, as you'll hear in episode 183, they had moved to Reaction Records after a falling out with their previous label, and with Shel Talmy their previous producer. The problem was, when "Substitute" was released, it had as its B-side a song called "Circles" (also known as "Instant Party -- it's been released under both names). They'd recorded an earlier version of the song for Talmy, and just as "Substitute" was starting to chart, Talmy got an injunction against the record and it had to be pulled. Reaction couldn't afford to lose the big hit record they'd spent money promoting, so they needed to put it out with a new B-side. But the Who hadn't got any unreleased recordings. But the Graham Bond Organisation had, and indeed they had an unreleased *instrumental*. So "Waltz For a Pig" became the B-side to a top-five single, credited to The Who Orchestra: [Excerpt: The Who Orchestra, "Waltz For a Pig"] That record provided the catalyst for the formation of Cream, because Ginger Baker had written the song, and got £1,350 for it, which he used to buy a new car. Baker had, for some time, been wanting to get out of the Graham Bond Organisation. He was trying to get off heroin -- though he would make many efforts to get clean over the decades, with little success -- while Bond was starting to use it far more heavily, and was also using acid and getting heavily into mysticism, which Baker despised. Baker may have had the idea for what he did next from an article in one of the music papers. John Entwistle of the Who would often tell a story about an article in Melody Maker -- though I've not been able to track down the article itself to get the full details -- in which musicians were asked to name which of their peers they'd put into a "super-group". He didn't remember the full details, but he did remember that the consensus choice had had Eric Clapton on lead guitar, himself on bass, and Ginger Baker on drums. As he said later "I don't remember who else was voted in, but a few months later, the Cream came along, and I did wonder if somebody was maybe believing too much of their own press". Incidentally, like The Buffalo Springfield and The Pink Floyd, Cream, the band we are about to meet, had releases both with and without the definite article, and Eric Clapton at least seems always to talk about them as "the Cream" even decades later, but they're primarily known as just Cream these days. Baker, having had enough of the Bond group, decided to drive up to Oxford to see Clapton playing with the Bluesbreakers. Clapton invited him to sit in for a couple of songs, and by all accounts the band sounded far better than they had previously. Clapton and Baker could obviously play well together, and Baker offered Clapton a lift back to London in his new car, and on the drive back asked Clapton if he wanted to form a new band. Clapton was as impressed by Baker's financial skills as he was by his musicianship. He said later "Musicians didn't have cars. You all got in a van." Clearly a musician who was *actually driving a new car he owned* was going places. He agreed to Baker's plan. But of course they needed a bass player, and Clapton thought he had the perfect solution -- "What about Jack?" Clapton knew that Bruce had been a member of the Graham Bond Organisation, but didn't know why he'd left the band -- he wasn't particularly clued in to what the wider music scene was doing, and all he knew was that Bruce had played with both him and Baker, and that he was the best bass player he'd ever played with. And Bruce *was* arguably the best bass player in London at that point, and he was starting to pick up session work as well as his work with Manfred Mann. For example it's him playing on the theme tune to "After The Fox" with Peter Sellers, the Hollies, and the song's composer Burt Bacharach: [Excerpt: The Hollies with Peter Sellers, "After the Fox"] Clapton was insistent. Baker's idea was that the band should be the best musicians around. That meant they needed the *best* musicians around, not the second best. If Jack Bruce wasn't joining, Eric Clapton wasn't joining either. Baker very reluctantly agreed, and went round to see Bruce the next day -- according to Baker it was in a spirit of generosity and giving Bruce one more chance, while according to Bruce he came round to eat humble pie and beg for forgiveness. Either way, Bruce agreed to join the band. The three met up for a rehearsal at Baker's home, and immediately Bruce and Baker started fighting, but also immediately they realised that they were great at playing together -- so great that they named themselves the Cream, as they were the cream of musicians on the scene. They knew they had something, but they didn't know what. At first they considered making their performances into Dada projects, inspired by the early-twentieth-century art movement. They liked a band that had just started to make waves, the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band -- who had originally been called the Bonzo Dog Dada Band -- and they bought some props with the vague idea of using them on stage in the same way the Bonzos did. But as they played together they realised that they needed to do something different from that. At first, they thought they needed a fourth member -- a keyboard player. Graham Bond's name was brought up, but Clapton vetoed him. Clapton wanted Steve Winwood, the keyboard player and vocalist with the Spencer Davis Group. Indeed, Winwood was present at what was originally intended to be the first recording session the trio would play. Joe Boyd had asked Eric Clapton to round up a bunch of players to record some filler tracks for an Elektra blues compilation, and Clapton had asked Bruce and Baker to join him, Paul Jones on vocals, Winwood on Hammond and Clapton's friend Ben Palmer on piano for the session. Indeed, given that none of the original trio were keen on singing, that Paul Jones was just about to leave Manfred Mann, and that we know Clapton wanted Winwood in the band, one has to wonder if Clapton at least half-intended for this to be the eventual lineup of the band. If he did, that plan was foiled by Baker's refusal to take part in the session. Instead, this one-off band, named The Powerhouse, featured Pete York, the drummer from the Spencer Davis Group, on the session, which produced the first recording of Clapton playing on the Robert Johnson song originally titled "Cross Road Blues" but now generally better known just as "Crossroads": [Excerpt: The Powerhouse, "Crossroads"] We talked about Robert Johnson a little back in episode ninety-seven, but other than Bob Dylan, who was inspired by his lyrics, we had seen very little influence from Johnson up to this point, but he's going to be a major influence on rock guitar for the next few years, so we should talk about him a little here. It's often said that nobody knew anything about Robert Johnson, that he was almost a phantom other than his records which existed outside of any context as artefacts of their own. That's... not really the case. Johnson had died a little less than thirty years earlier, at only twenty-seven years old. Most of his half-siblings and step-siblings were alive, as were his son, his stepson, and dozens of musicians he'd played with over the years, women he'd had affairs with, and other assorted friends and relatives. What people mean is that information about Johnson's life was not yet known by people they consider important -- which is to say white blues scholars and musicians. Indeed, almost everything people like that -- people like *me* -- know of the facts of Johnson's life has only become known to us in the last four years. If, as some people had expected, I'd started this series with an episode on Johnson, I'd have had to redo the whole thing because of the information that's made its way to the public since then. But here's what was known -- or thought -- by white blues scholars in 1966. Johnson was, according to them, a field hand from somewhere in Mississippi, who played the guitar in between working on the cotton fields. He had done two recording sessions, in 1936 and 1937. One song from his first session, "Terraplane Blues", had been a very minor hit by blues standards: [Excerpt: Robert Johnson, "Terraplane Blues"] That had sold well -- nobody knows how well, but maybe as many as ten thousand copies, and it was certainly a record people knew in 1937 if they liked the Delta blues, but ten thousand copies total is nowhere near the sales of really successful records, and none of the follow-ups had sold anything like that much -- many of them had sold in the hundreds rather than the thousands. As Elijah Wald, one of Johnson's biographers put it "knowing about Johnson and Muddy Waters but not about Leroy Carr or Dinah Washington was like knowing about, say, the Sir Douglas Quintet but not knowing about the Beatles" -- though *I* would add that the Sir Douglas Quintet were much bigger during the sixties than Johnson was during his lifetime. One of the few white people who had noticed Johnson's existence at all was John Hammond, and he'd written a brief review of Johnson's first two singles under a pseudonym in a Communist newspaper. I'm going to quote it here, but the word he used to talk about Black people was considered correct then but isn't now, so I'll substitute Black for that word: "Before closing we cannot help but call your attention to the greatest [Black] blues singer who has cropped up in recent years, Robert Johnson. Recording them in deepest Mississippi, Vocalion has certainly done right by us and by the tunes "Last Fair Deal Gone Down" and "Terraplane Blues", to name only two of the four sides already released, sung to his own guitar accompaniment. Johnson makes Leadbelly sound like an accomplished poseur" Hammond had tried to get Johnson to perform at the Spirituals to Swing concerts we talked about in the very first episodes of the podcast, but he'd discovered that he'd died shortly before. He got Big Bill Broonzy instead, and played a couple of Johnson's records from a record player on the stage. Hammond introduced those recordings with a speech: "It is tragic that an American audience could not have been found seven or eight years ago for a concert of this kind. Bessie Smith was still at the height of her career and Joe Smith, probably the greatest trumpet player America ever knew, would still have been around to play obbligatos for her...dozens of other artists could have been there in the flesh. But that audience as well as this one would not have been able to hear Robert Johnson sing and play the blues on his guitar, for at that time Johnson was just an unknown hand on a Robinsonville, Mississippi plantation. Robert Johnson was going to be the big surprise of the evening for this audience at Carnegie Hall. I know him only from his Vocalion blues records and from the tall, exciting tales the recording engineers and supervisors used to bring about him from the improvised studios in Dallas and San Antonio. I don't believe Johnson had ever worked as a professional musician anywhere, and it still knocks me over when I think of how lucky it is that a talent like his ever found its way onto phonograph records. We will have to be content with playing two of his records, the old "Walkin' Blues" and the new, unreleased, "Preachin' Blues", because Robert Johnson died last week at the precise moment when Vocalion scouts finally reached him and told him that he was booked to appear at Carnegie Hall on December 23. He was in his middle twenties and nobody seems to know what caused his death." And that was, for the most part, the end of Robert Johnson's impact on the culture for a generation. The Lomaxes went down to Clarksdale, Mississippi a couple of years later -- reports vary as to whether this was to see if they could find Johnson, who they were unaware was dead, or to find information out about him, and they did end up recording a young singer named Muddy Waters for the Library of Congress, including Waters' rendition of "32-20 Blues", Johnson's reworking of Skip James' "Twenty-Two Twenty Blues": [Excerpt: Muddy Waters, "32-20 Blues"] But Johnson's records remained unavailable after their initial release until 1959, when the blues scholar Samuel Charters published the book The Country Blues, which was the first book-length treatment ever of Delta blues. Sixteen years later Charters said "I shouldn't have written The Country Blues when I did; since I really didn't know enough, but I felt I couldn't afford to wait. So The Country Blues was two things. It was a romanticization of certain aspects of black life in an effort to force the white society to reconsider some of its racial attitudes, and on the other hand it was a cry for help. I wanted hundreds of people to go out and interview the surviving blues artists. I wanted people to record them and document their lives, their environment, and their music, not only so that their story would be preserved but also so they'd get a little money and a little recognition in their last years." Charters talked about Johnson in the book, as one of the performers who played "minor roles in the story of the blues", and said that almost nothing was known about his life. He talked about how he had been poisoned by his common-law wife, about how his records were recorded in a pool hall, and said "The finest of Robert Johnson's blues have a brooding sense of torment and despair. The blues has become a personified figure of despondency." Along with Charters' book came a compilation album of the same name, and that included the first ever reissue of one of Johnson's tracks, "Preaching Blues": [Excerpt: Robert Johnson, "Preaching Blues"] Two years later, John Hammond, who had remained an ardent fan of Johnson, had Columbia put out the King of the Delta Blues Singers album. At the time no white blues scholars knew what Johnson looked like and they had no photos of him, so a generic painting of a poor-looking Black man with a guitar was used for the cover. The liner note to King of the Delta Blues Singers talked about how Johnson was seventeen or eighteen when he made his recordings, how he was "dead before he reached his twenty-first birthday, poisoned by a jealous girlfriend", how he had "seldom, if ever, been away from the plantation in Robinsville, Mississippi, where he was born and raised", and how he had had such stage fright that when he was asked to play in front of other musicians, he'd turned to face a wall so he couldn't see them. And that would be all that any of the members of the Powerhouse would know about Johnson. Maybe they'd also heard the rumours that were starting to spread that Johnson had got his guitar-playing skills by selling his soul to the devil at a crossroads at midnight, but that would have been all they knew when they recorded their filler track for Elektra: [Excerpt: The Powerhouse, "Crossroads"] Either way, the Powerhouse lineup only lasted for that one session -- the group eventually decided that a simple trio would be best for the music they wanted to play. Clapton had seen Buddy Guy touring with just a bass player and drummer a year earlier, and had liked the idea of the freedom that gave him as a guitarist. The group soon took on Robert Stigwood as a manager, which caused more arguments between Bruce and Baker. Bruce was convinced that if they were doing an all-for-one one-for-all thing they should also manage themselves, but Baker pointed out that that was a daft idea when they could get one of the biggest managers in the country to look after them. A bigger argument, which almost killed the group before it started, happened when Baker told journalist Chris Welch of the Melody Maker about their plans. In an echo of the way that he and Bruce had been resigned from Blues Incorporated without being consulted, now with no discussion Manfred Mann and John Mayall were reading in the papers that their band members were quitting before those members had bothered to mention it. Mayall was furious, especially since the album Clapton had played on hadn't yet come out. Clapton was supposed to work a month's notice while Mayall found another guitarist, but Mayall spent two weeks begging Peter Green to rejoin the band. Green was less than eager -- after all, he'd been fired pretty much straight away earlier -- but Mayall eventually persuaded him. The second he did, Mayall turned round to Clapton and told him he didn't have to work the rest of his notice -- he'd found another guitar player and Clapton was fired: [Excerpt: John Mayall's Bluesbreakers, "Dust My Blues"] Manfred Mann meanwhile took on the Beatles' friend Klaus Voorman to replace Bruce. Voorman would remain with the band until the end, and like Green was for Mayall, Voorman was in some ways a better fit for Manfred Mann than Bruce was. In particular he could double on flute, as he did for example on their hit version of Bob Dylan's "The Mighty Quinn": [Excerpt: Manfred Mann "The Mighty Quinn"] The new group, The Cream, were of course signed in the UK to Stigwood's Reaction label. Other than the Who, who only stuck around for one album, Reaction was not a very successful label. Its biggest signing was a former keyboard player for Screaming Lord Sutch, who recorded for them under the names Paul Dean and Oscar, but who later became known as Paul Nicholas and had a successful career in musical theatre and sitcom. Nicholas never had any hits for Reaction, but he did release one interesting record, in 1967: [Excerpt: Oscar, "Over the Wall We Go"] That was one of the earliest songwriting attempts by a young man who had recently named himself David Bowie. Now the group were public, they started inviting journalists to their rehearsals, which were mostly spent trying to combine their disparate musical influences --

Show 21 - Skip James Broadcast on Otago Access Radio www.oar.org.nz

You can learn to play music using a variety of resources including teachers, online resources, and books. Stefan Grossman's Complete Country Blues Guitar Book is a repertoire book of various substyles of fingerstyle blues (general old time country blues, Delta blues, ragtime blues, Texas blues, and bottleneck blues).  Most of the tunes are suitable for late-beginner and intermediate fingerstyle players, although advanced players will certainly enjoy the tunes as well.  The music in this book may sound “old-timey” (much of it comes from the 1920s and 30s), but it is really fun to play if you are interested in the style.  Aside from the large selection of tunes, the book provides tons of cool history, interviews of blues players (Skip James and W.C. Handy), and historical photos – makes for a great coffee table book! The book is organized into sections for each substyle of fingerstyle blues.  At the beginning of each section there is a textual description and history of the blues substyle being presented.  Before each tune, there is a description of where that tune originated from, who played it in this style, important recordings to listen to, and some technical performance details. Most of the tunes provide you with a single progression of the tune – sometimes only 20 or 30 seconds long.  In a real performance you would probably want to repeat the form multiple times with singing, variations, or improvisation.  My only complaint about the book is that it would have been helpful if the author had explained this a bit more.  However, if you take the listening recommendations seriously then you will get the idea. The book provides both treble clef and tablature.  There are no right or left-hand fingerings provided (except occasionally in the description before the tune).  The tablature is unusual in that the fret numbers are written between the lines instead of on the lines, but I quickly adjusted to it without any problem. The majority of the tunes use standard tuning.  However, alternate tunings are used extensively within the sections on “Country Blues Guitar: The Alternating Bass and Open Tunings” and “Bottleneck Blues Guitar.” This is a repertoire book full of song arrangements.  This is not a method book that teaches you the fundamentals of how to play fingerstyle blues guitar.  However, if you have some fingerstyle experience, then this book will provide you with a lifetime of fun (at almost 260 pages, it will literally last you a very long time). Authentic fingerstyle blues tunes from various substyles. Great organization. Good difficulty graduation – easier tunes to start each section. Short tunes. Lots of alternating bass and monotonic bass Strange tablature will take a few minutes to adjust to. No fingerings for right or left hand. No audio access, but there are lots of listening recommendations that are helpful. The book doesn't get into the modern percussive techniques used by modern players like Michael Hedges, Don Ross, Andy McKee, Mike Dawes, etc.  No thumb slaps, guitar body percussion, or tapping. I recommend using an acoustic steel string guitar rather than a classical guitar since there are multiple tunes that utilize the fretting hand thumb over the top.  You will need a slide for the final section, but you can use it with your normal guitar. Published by Mel Bay Publications.  © 1992 eBook: Arranging for Fingerstyle Guitar: go to http://joemcmurray.com/checkout/ to purchase a pdf of my eBook. Riding the Wave: my second fingerstyle guitar album is available on all streaming platforms.

 | Artist  | Title  | Album Name  | Album Copyright  |  | Skip James  | Hard Time Killin' Floor Blues  | The Complete Early Recordings of Skip James - 1930 | James Cotton  | River's Invitation  | 22 Special Blues Tracks  |  | Tina Turner-  | Let's Stay Together [acoustic]  |   |  | John Lee Hooker  | Let's Make It Baby  | American Folk Blues Festival 1962-1965  CD1 | Half Deaf Clatch  | Mind Over  Matter  | Short Songs for the Barely Conscious | Bessie Jones & with the Georgia Sea Island Singers  | Once There Was No Sun (II)  | Get In Union  | Alan Lomax Archives/Association For Cultural Equity | John James  | Remembering The Blossoms  | Cafe Vienna  |   |  | Blind Willie Johnson  | God Don't Never Change  | The Complete Blind Willie Johnson (1 of 2) | Hans Theessink and Big Daddy Wilson  | Virus Blues  | Pay Day  |   |   |  | Mean Mary  | Merry Eyes  | Portrait of a Woman Part 1  |  | Andres Roots  | Winter Blues  | Winter  |   |   |  | Bukka White  | Hambone Blues  | Furry Lewis, Bukka White & Friends Party! at Home - 1968 | Big Bill Broonzy  | The Banker's Blues  | Complete Recorded Works in Chronological Order Vol. 1 | Stompin' Dave's Blues3  | My Heart Belongs To You  | The Mayfair Studio  |   |  | Doc Watson and Gaither Carlton  | Groundhog (Blind Lemon's Version)  | Doc Watson and Gaither Carlton  | Smithsonian Folkways | Furry Lewis With Bukka White And Gus Cannon  | Why Don't You Come Home Blues  | On The Road Again  |   |  | J.B. Lenoir  | If I Get Lucky  | American Folk Blues Festival 1962-1965  CD5

To Jelani Cobb, reading, writing, and education are inherently acts of empowerment, and sometimes even ones of defiance. A staff writer at The New Yorker since 2015 and recently appointed the dean of Columbia Journalism School, where he has been on the faculty since 2016, Cobb has written on subjects ranging from the power of Dave Chappelle's comedy, to the vital lessons of Martin Luther King Jr., to Donald Trump as a rapper. Cobb is also the author of the books The Substance of Hope: Barack Obama and the Paradox of Progress (2010) and To the Break of Dawn: A Freestyle on the Hip Hop Aesthetic (2007). Given the precarious moment we're in when it comes to truth and the future of not just journalism, but democracy itself, he is unquestionably one of the most essential writers, historians, and thinkers of our time. On this week's episode of Time Sensitive, Cobb talks about timing and flow in hip-hop, why being a “first Black” leader in any high-profile profession is like “doing a high-wire act without a net,” and his belief that the future of journalism will include greater transparency around how a story gets made.Special thanks to our Season 7 sponsor, L'ÉCOLE, School of Jewelry Arts.Show notes: [03:39] DJ Kool Herc[03:49] “Hip-Hop at Fifty: An Elegy”[03:56] To the Break of Dawn[08:05] August Wilson[09:13] Skip James[27:10] Run-D.M.C.[27:16] LL Cool J[27:24] Q-Tip[27:25] Phife Dawg[27:27] Salt-N-Pepa[27:41] Kool G Rap[27:45] Pharoahe Monch[37:17] Queens Public Library[39:27] Adell Patton[41:18] Elizabeth Clark-Lewis[43:06] David Carr[43:23] Ta-Nehisi Coates[49:58] The Devil and Dave Chappelle: And Other Essays[53:21] “Trayvon Martin and the Parameters of Hope”[59:14] “Postscript: Rodney King, 1965-2012”[59:46] “Alvin Bragg, Donald Trump, and the Pursuit of Low-Level Crimes”[01:02:21] Between the World and Me[01:03:51] Columbia Journalism School

פועלו של איש זה לא ישקע בתהומות הנשייה ולא ישכּח לעולם. מסכּמים הלילה בפרק שני את מלאכתו הטובה והחשובה של כּריס סְטראכוויץ - מייסד חברת התקליטים אָרהוּלי - שנאסף בצער הלב אל האבות והאמהות לפני ימים אחדים. מעגל חייו לא היה לשווא. השפעתו וחזונו המוזיקלי חיים ופועלים בליבּות רבּים בעולמנו - בין ביודעין ובין שלא ביודעין. קשה לדמיין את מפת תחיית הפוֹלק והבּלוּז בלי אוזנו של המהגר הגרמני הצעיר שהגיע לאמריקה בשנות נעוריו, שנתיים לאחר מלחמת העולם השנייה.   1. Mance Lipscomb - The Titanic (3:34)2. Jesse Fuller - San Francisco Bay Blues  (3:44)3. Mississippi Fred McDowell - Write Me a Few Lines4. Skip James - 22-20 Blues (Mr. Kress) (3:36)5. Joy of Cooking - Midnight Blues (4:07)6. T.A. Talbott - Mr. Brakeman (3:52)7. Big Mama Thornton - Little Red Rooster8. Charlie Musselwhite - Finger Lickin' Good9. Conjunto Alma Jarocha - El Balaju10. L.C. Robinson - Ups and Downs

Jake dives deep into the chilling, new Skip James episode and tries to explain what makes an Irish rock 'n roll band just sound so.... Irish. Sharon Tate and Poltergeist are now re-released into the Badlands feed, wherever you listen to podcasts. Plus, Jake listens to your pleas for an INXS episode and wants to hear what your favorite '80s horror movies and Irish rock bands are. Leave your own message for Jake to reply to at 617-907-6638 and come join the After Party. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Kristian Matson grew up in the Swedish countryside and came to be The Tallest Man on Earth in the country's diverse and low-key music scene. He often speaks of his weird little brain and a wild imagination, which actually stems from a heap of anxiety that he lives with everyday. Growing up, he struggled to tamp down his high-energy, especially in a culture that encouraged everyone to not stand out or draw attention to themselves. When he discovered the guitar, it felt like he found a vessel to harness all his energy, creativity and imagination. As a teenager, he found solace in the music of Bob Dylan, which led him to discovering other American folk artists like Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger. His world opened up when he found guitarists that used open tunings like Skip James and Nick Drake.His new album Henry St., was written and created in the aftermath of the pandemic. Kristian struggled with writing in forced solitude and found himself focusing too much on darkness. His inspiration returned when he finally got back on tour, where he began writing non-stop due to being back in motion and around other people. Human connection fueled the new album, which was produced by Nick Sanborn of Sylvan Esso in North Carolina. The two musicians' similarities create a beautiful chemistry on the new record, which is the first complete band album recorded by Tallest Man on Earth.Follow Basic Folk on social media: https://basicfolk.bio.link/Sign up for Basic Folk's newsletter: https://bit.ly/basicfolknewsHelp produce Basic Folk by contributing: https://basicfolk.com/donate/Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brands

Skip James's most famous lyric was “I'd rather be the Devil” and he put his money where his mouth was. He shot a man dead, spent time as a pimp and a bootlegger, and womanized up and down the United States. Skip may have eventually found religion, and even recognition as the last great bluesman to be discovered by white America, but all that devilish living–and a possible hex–would bring his lifestyle to a brutal end. To view the full list of contributors, see the show notes at www.disgracelandpod.com. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

“There's an old adage ‘He who forgets history is condemned to repeat it.' But what's missing in that phrase is that there are the people who are in charge of keeping your history. And they can make you forget it. They can keep it from you. And then you're doomed to repeat something that they want you to repeat.” — Samuel JamesSamuel James is a musician and storyteller from Portland, Maine, who specializes in blues and roots music. Samuel has a deep knowledge of American musical history and recently wrote a column in the Mainer magazine about the origins of the phrase “stay woke,” first heard on a Lead Belly record about the Scottsboro Boys. He shows that when we see attacks on “wokeness” like Ron DeSantis' “Stop WOKE Act,” we should remember that it's “an old, Black phrase being weaponized against the very people who created it.”Today, Samuel joins to explain how listening to the words of early 20th century Black songs provides critical context for understanding America today. From commentary on the prison system in the words of “Midnight Special” to Mississippi John Hurt's unique twist on the “John Henry” legend, Samuel James offers a course in how to listen closely to appreciate both the rich diversity of the music lumped together as folk blues, and how to hear the warnings that the early singers passed down to Black Americans today. It's a very special hour featuring some of the greatest music ever written, played live by one of its most talented contemporary interpreters.Nathan's article on Charles Murray is here, and one on Joe Rogan is here. A Current Affairs article about John Henry songs is here. Beyond Mississippi John Hurt and Lead Belly, artists mentioned by Samuel James include Gus Cannon, the Mississippi Sheiks, Charley Patton, Skip James, and Furry Lewis. More information about the St. Louis chemical spraying is here. Follow Samuel James on Twitter here. His 99 Years podcast is here. Nathan mentions the “Voyager Golden Record” that went into space, which did in fact include a classic blues song.“This is the hammer that killed John HenryBut it won't kill me, but it won't kill me, but it won't kill me”— Mississippi John HurtNOTE: The n-word is heard several times in this episode, spoken by Samuel James, and in recordings by Lead Belly and Ice Cube.Subscribe to Current Affairs on Patreon to unlock all of our bonus episodes and get early access to new releases.

Descripción breve del programa y playlist: Playlist: Snatch It Back and Hold It – Junior Wells; Merry Christmas – Lightnin' Hopkins; Santa Baby – Eartha Kitt; Christmas Date Boogie – Big Joe Turner with Pete Johnson & His Orchestra; Boogie Woogie Santa Claus – Mabel Scott with Les Welch & His Orchestra; Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree – Lou Ann Barton; Jesus's Coming Soon – Blind Willie Johnson; Jesus Is Here To Stay – Sister Rosetta Tharpe; Good Morning School Girl – Sonny Boy Williamson; Good Morning Schoolgirl – Junior Wells; Hard Time Killing Floor – Pura Fé with Danny Godinez; Son's House – The Guy Forsyth Band; Archetypal Blues No. 2 – Watermelon Slim; Love Again Blues – Leyla McCalla; If You Love Me – Johnny Hoy & The Bluefish; Crow Jane – Samantha Fish; Crow Jane – Skip James; St. Louis Blues – Eartha Kitt. Escuchar audio

Bo Diddley "Pretty Thing"Patti Smith "Peaceable Kingdom"Drive-By Truckers "Dragon Pants"R.L. Burnside "Goin' Down South"Shannon Shaw "Freddies 'n' Teddies"ZZ Top "Master of Sparks"Nina Nastasia "Just Stay in Bed"Willie Nelson "Always On My Mind"Dolly Parton "Down from Dover"Patsy Cline "Crazy"Robbie Fulks "Every Kind of Music But Country"Sally Timms & John Langford "Blue Eyes Crying In the Rain"Jeff Tweedy "Opaline"Palace Songs "Christmastime in the Mountains"Elizabeth Cotten "Going Down the Road Feeling Bad"Irma Thomas "Don't Mess with My Man"M. Ward "Never Had Nobody Like You"Craig Finn "God in Chicago"Counting Crows "A Long December"Slobberbone "Pinball Song"Superchunk "Kicked In"Jake Xerxes Fussell "The River St. Johns"Sweet Emma Barrett "The Bell Gal" And Her Dixieland Boys "I Ain't Gonna Give Nobody None Of This Jelly Roll"James McMurtry "Copper Canteen"Hank Williams "Window Shopping"Mississippi Fred McDowell "Louise"Billy Bragg & Wilco "Way Over Yonder In The Minor Key"Reverend Gary Davis "Samson and Delilah"John Prine "Pretty Good"Kim Deal "Wish I Was"Magnolia Electric Co. "Lonesome Valley"Leon Redbone "Winin' Boy Blues"John Mellencamp "No Better Than This"Blue Lu Barker "Trombone Man Blues"Loretta Lynn "Gonna Pack My Troubles"Guy Clark "Rain In Durango"Skip James "Crow Jane"Pee Wee King "Oh Monah"Dr. John "Gimme That Old Time Religion (feat. Willie Nelson)"Shannon Wright "Defy This Love"Nina Nastasia "You Can Take Your Time"

Notre 1er invité est Kepa pour la sortie de son 2ème album Divine Morphine (Éditions Miliani). C'est toujours la même chanson, celle qui tient en un mot. Cinq lettres, trois consonnes et deux voyelles. Un B, un L, un U, un E et la marque du pluriel au bout. Un mot international, qui désigne à la fois une musique, un état émotionnel et vaguement une couleur. Vous l'avez, là ? Chut… Il ne faut plus l'écrire, ni le nommer, pour ne pas tomber dans ses clichés, ni y emmener les auditeurs du deuxième album de Kepa. Kepa ne veut plus en entendre parler, pourtant il l'a. Dans sa guitare en métal qui, entre de bonnes mains, ressemble à une lampe d'Aladin, à une épée mythologique. Dans son harmonica, cet instrument qui fait trembler le cerveau quand on en joue avec le cœur. Dans sa vie de tous les jours et même de tous les hiers. Au fond de ses tripes, comme un frisson qui remonte jusqu'à ses cordes vocales, un super pouvoir dont il faut aussi avoir peur. Dans ses gênes, son corps endolori, son sang altéré. Dans le titre de ce nouvel album, Divine Morphine. Le premier, sorti il y a trois ans, s'appelait Doctor, Do Something. Un début de concept, toujours la même chanson, comme une affection longue durée. Kepa l'a attrapé comme une maladie. En 2013, Kepa s'appelait Bastien Duverdier et il vivait la vie de skater professionnel, humain augmenté capable de voyager loin et de s'envoler sur une planche à roulettes. Quant tout à coup, il s'est senti devenir vieux. Rongé par une maladie auto-immune qui a bouleversé sa vie, les chiens de l'enfer à ses trousses, qui ne le lâcheront jamais. Il a trouvé une planche de salut, sans roulettes mais avec des cordes, dans la musique, pratiquée sur sa guitare en métal et de préférence sur un ou deux accords qui tournent, à la recherche d'une transe intérieure, d'une vibration musico-thérapeutique, d'un rite auto-chamanique. Bastien est devenu musicien, sortant donc en 2018 Doctor, Do Something, premier album réalisé avec Taylor Kirk du groupe canadien Timber Timbre. L'album a été très bien accueilli, et des centaines de concerts ont fait connaître Kepa, son humour, sa musique et ses jolies chemises.   Mais, malgré tout le bien qu'on a pensé de Doctor, Do Something, on peut l'affirmer sans forfanterie : Divine Morphine est mille fois mieux. Doctor, Do Something était une carte de visite. Divine Morphine est le récit d'une expédition au fond de soi, d'un voyage au bout de l'enfermement. Personne ne t'entendra crier. Il a fait ce disque pour chercher à comprendre, dompter et raconter cette maladie qui l'a chamboulé jusqu'à l'implosion, à l'orée de la folie. «Du plomb dans l'Eldorado», chante-t-il en duo avec Sarah McCoy sur l'incroyable dark-pop song Eldorado, un vrai tube du nouveau monde. Du plomb dans l'Eldorado, c'est un peu ce que tout le monde ressent depuis l'année 2020, non ? Le calvaire des uns est la Covid-19, le sien s'appelle HLA-B27, pour human leucocyte antigen. Personne ne peut le vivre à sa place, mais tout le monde peut ressentir et apprécier comment il s'est soigné avec Divine Morphine. Le premier morceau est un peu son All Aboard (Muddy Waters) à lui. Un solo d'harmonica basse façon train song, qui aurait eu sa place sur Doctor, Do Something, mais qui d'un coup tourbillonne, se dérègle et annonce la suite. Le train vient de dérailler et d'entrer dans une autre dimension, celle du vertige opiacé, de la perte de contrôle, de la musique qui rêve et dérive… Une chanson va sonner comme la bande-son d'un western où Kepa fait un duel avec lui-même (Dog Days). Une autre emmène les vieux Bukka White et Alan Vega danser dans un club de Détroit pendant un tremblement de terre (Wet Dream). Le temps de deux reprises, Kepa s'agenouille sans se prosterner devant des totems intimes : Hard Time Killin Floor Blues de Skip James (avec Rodolphe Burger), et Sodade de Cesaria Evora dans une version hallucinée, où l'on voit l'océan geler autour des îles du Cap-Vert.   Six pieds sous terre reste sous les tropiques le temps d'une murder ballad. La chanson Divine Morphine est presque badine, indolente, ritournelle dans un état second. L'instrumental Messe HLA-B27 montre les progrès guitaristiques fulgurants de Kepa, affranchi des exercices de styles, devenu son propre maître. Sa voix aussi a changé, il la pousse vers la plainte dans des aigus hululants. Il joue différents instruments, des claviers comme des stalactites, la trompette et d'autres choses avec sa bouche, des bruitages d'origine non identifiée. Il est l'homme-orchestre du Titanic, au final seul survivant du naufrage, puis échoué sur une île déserte – le dernier morceau, Merle, ressemble à la prière païenne d'un Robinson en lévitation. L'album est maintenant terminé. Personne n'en sortira indemne. Et tout le monde n'aura qu'une envie : y retourner. Stéphane Deschamps. Titres interprétés - Divine Morphine, Live RFI - Sodade, extrait de l'album Divine Morphine - Eldorado, Live RFI - Hard Time Killing Floor, extrait de l'album Divine Morphine. Puis nous recevons Jawhar pour la sortie de l'album Tasweerah (62TV/PIAS).   Tasweerah est le quatrième album du singer / songwriter tunisien Jawhar. Tasweerah veut dire en tunisien à la fois : portrait, image, mais aussi : projection de l'esprit… L'album est une série d'arrêts sur image, de portraits plus ou moins personnels. Les chansons sont, chacune à leur manière, des tentatives vers un portrait universel de l'artiste. Elles questionnent sa place et celle de l'imaginaire dans la société, posent «la création et la quête de la beauté» au centre de l'album. Volontairement brut et sans artifice, Tasweerah nous replonge dans la folk / pop claire-obscure de Jawhar, proclamé dans la catégorie Arabic Dream Pop. Né d'une mère professeure de Littérature arabe, éprise de musique et de poésie, et d'un père qui se consacre au théâtre puis à la politique culturelle, Jawhar grandit dans la banlieue au sud de Tunis, à Radès. Très tôt, il est fasciné par une certaine culture populaire, par la force de ses images et de ses expressions verbales, musicales et gestuelles. Quand il part à l'âge de vingt ans étudier l'anglais à Lille, c'est plutôt la poésie abstraite qui l'attire, celle de William Blake et d'Emily Dickinson… En plus d'un amour grandissant pour un certain Nick Drake qui le liera de manière irrévocable à sa folk impressionniste. Titres interprétés - Malguit Live RFI - Schizo Hyout, extrait de l'album Tasweerah voir le clip  - Sayyed Ezzin, extrait de l'album Tasweerah - Foug Layyem Live RFI voir le clip. Son : Fabien Mugneret, Mathias Taylor, Benoît Letirant. (Rediffusion du 27 mars 2022)

Banjo player, fiddler, singer, and scholar Jake Blount's latest feat is an Afro-futurist concept album called The New Faith, where instead of shiny interstellar travel, man-made climate crises reach their logical end points, and a small community survives, staying lifted by the sacred songs of the past. Blount presents the music of this imagined community as a religious service in three sections, captured as a future field recording - one with a direct through-line to folk, gospel, the blues, and spirituals. The tie-in with Octavia Butler's visionary 1993 work of climate/science fiction, Parable of the Sower, is explicit, says Blount, as this album may well be the first musical Afro-futurist cautionary tale (some might say dystopia, but that would imply that there was a utopia to begin with.) The collected and re-cast songs on The New Faith have been deeply researched (just as they were on his excellent 2020 record, Spider Tales) and show profound respect invoking and honoring the ancestors: Bessie Jones of the Sea Island Singers, civil rights activist Fannie Lou Hamer, bluesman Skip James, and the legendary gospel singer Mahalia Jackson. There's a full-throated electric guitar on “Didn't It Rain” summoning guitar hero Sister Rosetta Tharpe; songs sourced from fingerstyle and Delta blues players Blind Willie McTell and Skip James, respectively; and a pervasive bass thump throughout extending from the Gullah-Geechee Ring Shout tradition of groove-keeping. Together with cleverly deployed fiddle and banjo, (please see his explainer on the banjo, and Black String Band history(!)), lots of hand claps, and call and response vocals, gospel choruses, and rapped verse from Demeanor, Blount seamlessly and instructively links up past, present, and potential future, in ways that will undoubtedly resonate. Jake Blount and his band play some of these tunes, in-studio. – Caryn Havlik Set list: "Once There Was No Sun" "City of Heaven" "Didn't It Rain" Watch "Once There Was No Sun": Watch "City of Heaven": Watch "Didn't It Rain":

Dwight Yoakam "Guitars, Cadillacs"Hüsker Dü "Chartered Trips"Chad Price "Katarina"Fats Waller "Loafin' Time"Otis Blackwell "You Move Me, Baby"Hank Williams "Honky Tonk Blues"Eilen Jewell "Boundary County"Lucero "Sixteen"The Deslondes "Howl at the Moon"Cedric Burnside "We Made It"Fats Domino "One Night"Dr. John "Gimme That Old Time Religion (feat. Willie Nelson)"Jake Xerxes Fussell "Jump for Joy"Sister Rosetta Tharpe "This Train"Jessie Mae Hemphill "Run Get My Shotgun"Moon Mullican "Grandpa Stole My Baby"Palace Music "Work Hard / Play Hard"Hezekiah & the Houserockers "Baby, What You Want Me To Do"Moving Targets "Separate Hearts"Two Cow Garage "Come Back to Shelby"Charles Clark "Hidden Charms"Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown "Atomic Energy"Billie Holiday "Let's Call A Heart A Heart"Mance Lipscomb "If I Miss the Train"Ian Noe "Pine Grove (Madhouse)"Tom Waits "Tom Traubert's Blues (Four Sheets To The Wind In Copenhagen)"Howlin' Wolf "Goin' Down Slow"Georgia White "Get 'Em from the Peanut Man (Hot Nuts)"Leon Redbone "Sheik of Araby"Duke Ellington and His Orchestra "Love Is Like a Cigarette"J.W. Warren "Hoboing into Hollywood"Clifford Hayes & The Dixieland Jug Blowers "You'd Better Leave Me Alone, Sweet Papa"Johnny "Guitar" Watson "Hot Little Mama"Andrew Bird "Eight"Gillian Welch "Hard Times"Skip James "Jesus Is a Mighty Good Leader"Beck "Fourteen Rivers Fourteen Floods"Jimmie Rodgers "Blue Yodel No. 8 (Mule Skinner Blues)"Mississippi Fred McDowell "Shake' Em On Down"Pretenders "Thumbelina"Richard Berry "Oh! Oh! Get out of the Car"Valerie June "Don't It Make You Want To Go Home"Dianogah "Es Possible Fuego"Loretta Lynn "Women's Prison"Professor Longhair "She Ain't Got No Hair (1949)"Johnny Cash "There Are Strange Things Happening Every Day"Superchunk "Throwing Things (Acoustic)"

Click the link to join the blues guitar show workshops http://thebluesguitarshow.com/bluesguitarworkshops/In this episode I take you through some basics of playing slide guitar as well as the DADGAD tuning. We look at a couple of chord shapes and a cool slide riff that'll have you jamming like Skip James in no time! Follow me on instagram @bluesguitarshowpodcast Make a small donation at 'Buy me a coffee' https://www.buymeacoffee.com/bluesguitarshowSupport the show

 | Artist  | Title  | Album Name  | Album Copyright  |  | Jerry Reed  | Tupelo Mississippi Flash  |   |  | Chris Barber Featuring Ottilie Patterson  | Jail House Blues  | Jazz Masters Beale Street Blues | Lightnin' Hopkins  | Black Cadillac  | In The Key Of Lightnin  |  | Bukka White  | Bukka's Jitterbug Swing  | The Complete Sessions 1930-1940 | Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee  | Cornbread, Peas And Black Molasses (Recorded Live At The Free T  | Chris Barber Presents The Blues Legacy Lost & Found Series | Rev Gary Davis  | Cincinnati Flow Rag 1  | The Ernie Hawkins Session CD 3 | Scrapper Blackwell  | Blues Before Sunrise  | Mr Scrapper's Blues  |   |  | Snooks Eaglin  | High Society  | New Orleans Street Singer  |  | Big Bill Broonzy  | Key To The Highway  | Four Classic Albums Plus - CD One | Corey Harris  | High Fever Blues (solo version)  | Fish Ain't Bitin'  |   |  | Skip James  | Hard Time Killin' Floor Blues  | The Complete Early Recordings of Skip James - 1930 | Grey Ghost  | Sheik of Araby  | Grey Ghost  |   |  | Lonnie Johnson  | Four Hands Are Better Than Two  | Jazz Legends  |   |  | Blind Lemon Jefferson  | Match Box Blues  | Complete Recorded Works In Chronological Order | Mound City Blue Blowers  | Arkansas Blues [Chicago 2.23.24]  | Vibraphonic #3  |   |  | Sidney Bechet  | Nobody Knows You When You're Down and Out

Where does American popular music come from, and what does the devil have to do with it? On Part One of a two-part series on music and the occult, Justin Farrar and I discuss Peter Bebergal's excellent history Season of the Witch: How the Occult Saved Rock and Roll, as we explore the eerie mythology that haunts the origins of blues and rock. Some of the musicians and other figures mentioned in this episode include Robert Johnson, Clarence Ashley, Big Mama Thornton, Elvis Presley, Led Zeppelin, David Bowie, Black Sabbath, Tommy Johnson, Skip James, Kurt Cobain, R.E.M., Harry Smith, The Geto Boys, and lots more.  For more episodes of Record Trap and access to the entire Nostalgia Trap universe, subscribe at patreon.com/nostalgiatrap. 

This episode continues a monthly, ten-part series celebrating the tenth anniversary of TEMPEST, featuring the second track on the album, "Soon After Midnight," through songs that influenced its composition, live versions, cover versions, and also through a consideration of the song's meaning and allusions. In "20 Pounds of Headlines," we round up news from the world of Bob Dylan, which includes an overview of Dylan's tour itinerary for the upcoming week, a report on Dylan's sale of his Traveling Wilburys share of master royalties and neighboring rights royalties to Primary Wave Music, a report that T-Bone Burnett is still looking to release 20 more recordings by the New Basement Tapes of songs created from unfinished BASEMENT TAPES era lyrics, and a happy birthday to a special figure of cultural significance. In "Who Did It Better?" we ask you to vote this week to tell us who did "Soon After Midnight" better: Aoife O'Donovan or John Glase & The Burnt Remains? Listen to the episode, then go to our Twitter page @RainTrains to vote!

Pacific St Blues & AmericanaMay 29, 2022Over the years acoustic slide blues player Aurora "Rory" Block has explored the music of the great delta players including Skip James, Rev. Son House, Rev. Gary Davis, Robert Johnson, Mississippi John Hurt, Mississippi Fred McDowell, Bukka White, Bessie Smith, and Leadbelly.Join me this week as we explore the various musical paths trodden by Rory Block. Block appeared at the Indigenous Jam back in the day. PLUS we focus on new tunes by old favorites! 1. Corey Harris / Insurrection Blues2. Charlie Musselwhite / Crawling King Snake3. Rory Block / Death Letter Blues (Reverend Son House) 4. John Mellencamp / John the Revelator(Reverend Son House)5. Rex Granite Band / Man in Chapter Two 6. Bonnie Raitt / Waiting for You to Blow 7. Rory Block / Death Don't Have No Mercy (Rev. Gary Davis)8. Jackson Browne / Cocaine (Rev. Gary Davis)9. Kenny Neal / Blues Keeps Chasing Me 10. Marcus King Band / Hard Working Man 11. Rory Block / Avalon (Mississippi John Hurt) 12. Dave Alvin & Peter Case (dBs) / Monday Morning Blues (Mississippi John Hurt)13. Lil' Ed and the Blues Imperials / Giving Up on Your Love (Soaring Wings Vineyard Blues Festival)14. Eric Clapton / Alabama Woman Blues 15. Rory Block / Good Morning Little School Girl (Mississippi Fred McDowell)16. The Rolling Stones / You Gotta Move (Mississippi Fred McDowell)17. Lyle Lovett / 12th of June18. Lucinda Williams / Wildflower19. Rory Block / Cross Roads Blues (Robert Johnson)20. Led Zeppelin / Traveling Riverside Blues (Robert Johnson)

This week on the show, we talk to a startling new talent placing a gut-punch into the folk and blues scene, the Milwaukee-raised and now Austin-based singer-songwriter Buffalo Nichols. Growing up learning on his sister's dreadnought guitar and then traveling widely through West Africa after high school drinking up the sounds of the kora and percussion players in Senegal, Carl Nichols began finding his voice and playing style in the haunting open and minor tunings first heard from bluesmen like Skip James, who he covers in his remarkable self-titled debut collection. Buffalo Nichols, which came in 2021, is a stark departure from what Carl would call the cheery “opinionless beer commercial blues” that has come to dominate the genre. Nichols' work is often sparse and direct - just a man with his guitar and a microphone. The stories told in standout songs like “Another Man” and “Living Hell” don't flinch from comparing how the experience of his elders a hundred years ago in the south may not look much different from men like George Floyd dying on that Minneapolis pavement. Is there catharsis or hope in the songs? Are they a call to action? Maybe that's up to us to decide. Carl will admit that it can be tricky trying play his songs like the searing album opener “Lost And Lonesome” in loud bars where people may just want to have a good time and not dive into the backroad history of racial injustice and institutionalized police violence. Thankfully his writing doesn't hide behind niceties and the recordings aren't veiled by sonic artifice - Nichols speaks directly to the isolation and danger of being a young Black man in America and trying to navigate the unease of bringing his stories to an often mostly white Americana-adjacent audience. Even more upbeat numbers like “Back On Top” call to mind the ominous juke-joint growl of John Lee Hooker, bringing us into dimly lit scenes where even late-night pleasure may have its next-morning consequences. If there's one thing we learned during this taping, it's that Carl doesn't want to just "write songs to make people feel good” - but he does want to tell stories that make the isolated and lost feel less so. Maybe that is the most important function of music truly steeped in the blues tradition: the ability to transform pain into progress. The messages may not be what people always want to hear, but the groundswell rising behind Carl's stark timeless tales is indeed growing. With recent appearances on Late Night with Stephen Colbert, NPR's Tiny Desk Concerts and big time dates like Lollapalooza on the books for the summer, folks will be hearing a lot more from Buffalo Nichols. Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/the-show-on-the-road-with-z-lupetin1106/donationsAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Episode one hundred and forty-eight of A History of Rock Music in Five Hundred Songs looks at “Light My Fire" by the Doors, the history of cool jazz, and Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. Click the full post to read liner notes, links to more information, and a transcript of the episode. Patreon backers also have a ten-minute bonus episode available, on "My Friend Jack" by the Smoke. Tilt Araiza has assisted invaluably by doing a first-pass edit, and will hopefully be doing so from now on. Check out Tilt's irregular podcasts at http://www.podnose.com/jaffa-cakes-for-proust and http://sitcomclub.com/ Resources As usual, I've put together a Mixcloud mix containing all the music excerpted in this episode and the shorter spoken-word tracks. Information on Dick Bock, World Pacific, and Ravi Shankar came from Indian Sun: The Life and Music of Ravi Shankar by Oliver Craske. Ray Manzarek, John Densmore, and Robby Krieger have all released autobiographies. Densmore's is out of print, but I referred to Manzarek's and Krieger's here. Of the two Krieger's is vastly more reliable. I also used Mick Wall's book on the Doors and Stephen Davis' biography of Jim Morrison. Information about Elektra Records came from Follow the Music by Jac Holzman and Gavan Daws, which is available as a free PDF download on Elektra's website. Biographical information on Maharishi Mahesh Yogi comes from this book, written by one of his followers. The Doors' complete studio albums can be bought as MP3s for £14. Patreon This podcast is brought to you by the generosity of my backers on Patreon. Why not join them? Transcript There are two big problems that arise for anyone trying to get an accurate picture of history, and which have certainly arisen for me during the course of this podcast -- things which make sources unreliable enough that you feel you have to caveat everything you say on a subject. One of those is hagiography, and the converse desire to tear heroes down. No matter what one wants to say on, say, the subjects of Jesus or Mohammed or Joseph Smith, the only sources we have for their lives are written either by people who want to present them as unblemished paragons of virtue, or by people who want to destroy that portrayal -- we know that any source is written by someone with a bias, and it might be a bias we agree with, but it's still a bias. The other, related, problem, is deliberate disinformation. This comes up especially for people dealing with military history -- during conflicts, governments obviously don't want their opponents to know when their attacks have caused damage, or to know what their own plans are, and after a war has concluded the belligerent parties want to cover up their own mistakes and war crimes. We're sadly seeing that at the moment in the situation in Ukraine -- depending on one's media diet, one could get radically different ideas of what is actually going on in that terrible conflict. But it happens all the time, in all wars, and on all sides. Take the Vietnam War. While the US was involved on the side of the South Vietnamese government from the start of that conflict, it was in a very minor way, mostly just providing supplies and training. Most historians look at the real start of US involvement in that war as having been in August 1964. President Johnson had been wanting, since assuming the Presidency in November 1963 after the death of John F Kennedy, to get further into the war, but had needed an excuse to do so. The Gulf of Tonkin Incident provided him with that excuse. On August the second, a fleet of US warships entered into what the North Vietnamese considered their territorial waters -- they used a different distance from shore to mark their territorial waters than most other countries used, and one which wasn't generally accepted, but which they considered important. Because of this, some North Vietnamese ships started following the American ones. The American ships, who thought they weren't doing anything wrong, set off what they considered to be warning shots, and the North Vietnamese ships fired back, which to the American ships was considered them attacking. Some fire was exchanged, but not much happened. Two days later, the American ships believed they were getting attacked again, and spent several hours firing at what they believed were North Vietnamese submarines. It was later revealed that this was just the American sonar systems playing up, and that they were almost certainly firing at nothing at all, and some even suspected that at the time -- President Johnson apparently told other people in confidence that in his opinion they'd been firing at stray dolphins. But that second "attack", however flimsy the evidence, was enough that Johnson could tell Congress and the nation that an American fleet had been attacked by the North Vietnamese, and use that as justification to get Congress to authorise him sending huge numbers of troops to Vietnam, and getting America thoroughly embroiled in a war that would cost innumerable lives and billions of dollars for what turned out to be no benefit at all to anyone. The commander of the US fleet involved in the Gulf of Tonkin operation was then-Captain, later Rear Admiral, Steve Morrison: [Excerpt: The Doors, "The End"] We've talked a bit in this podcast previously about the development of jazz in the forties, fifties, and early sixties -- there was a lot of back and forth influence in those days between jazz, blues, R&B, country, and rock and roll, far more than one might imagine looking at the popular histories of these genres, and so we've looked at swing, bebop, and modal jazz before now. But one style of music we haven't touched on is the type that was arguably the most popular and influential style of jazz in the fifties, even though we've mentioned several of the people involved in it. We've never yet had a proper look at Cool Jazz. Cool Jazz, as its name suggests, is a style of music that was more laid back than the more frenetic bebop or hard-edged modal jazz. It was a style that sounded sophisticated, that sounded relaxed, that prized melody and melodic invention over super-fast technical wizardry, and that produced much of what we now think of when we think of "jazz" as a popular style of music. The records of Dave Brubeck, for example, arguably the most popular fifties jazz musician, are very much in the "cool jazz" mode: [Excerpt: The Dave Brubeck Quartet, "Take Five"] And we have mentioned on several occasions the Modern Jazz Quartet, who were cited as influences by everyone from Ray Charles to the Kinks to the Modern Folk Quartet: [Excerpt: The Modern Jazz Quartet, "Regret?"] We have also occasionally mentioned people like Mose Allison, who occasionally worked in the Cool Jazz mode. But we've never really looked at it as a unified thing. Cool Jazz, like several of the other developments in jazz we've looked at, owes its existence to the work of the trumpeter Miles Davis, who was one of the early greats of bop and who later pioneered modal jazz. In 1948, in between his bop and modal periods, Davis put together a short-lived nine-piece group, the Miles Davis Nonette, who performed together for a couple of weeks in late 1948, and who recorded three sessions in 1949 and 1950, but who otherwise didn't perform much. Each of those sessions had a slightly different lineup, but key people involved in the recordings were Davis himself, arranger Gil Evans, piano player John Lewis, who would later go on to become the leader of the Modern Jazz Quartet, and baritone sax player Gerry Mulligan. Mulligan and Evans, and the group's alto player Lee Konitz, had all been working for the big band Claude Thornhill and his Orchestra, a band which along with the conventional swing instruments also had a French horn player and a tuba player, and which had recorded soft, mellow, relaxing music: [Excerpt: Claude Thornhill and his Orchestra, "To Each His Own"] The Davis Nonette also included French horn and tuba, and was explicitly modelled on Thornhill's style, but in a stripped-down version. They used the style of playing that Thornhill preferred, with no vibrato, and with his emphasis on unison playing, with different instruments doubling each other playing the melody, rather than call-and response riffing: [Excerpt: The Miles Davis Nonette, "Venus De Milo"] Those recordings were released as singles in 1949 and 1950, and were later reissued in 1957 as an album titled "Birth of the Cool", by which point Cool Jazz had become an established style, though Davis himself had long since moved on in other musical directions. After the Birth of the Cool sessions, Gerry Mulligan had recorded an album as a bandleader himself, and then had moved to the West Coast, where he'd started writing arrangements for Stan Kenton, one of the more progressive big band leaders of the period: [Excerpt: Stan Kenton, "Young Blood"] While working for Kenton, Mulligan had started playing dates at a club called the Haig, where the headliner was the vibraphone player Red Norvo. While Norvo had started out as a big-band musician, playing with people like Benny Goodman, he had recently started working in a trio, with just a guitarist, initially Tal Farlowe, and bass player, initially Charles Mingus: [Excerpt: Red Norvo, "This Can't Be Love"] By 1952 Mingus had left Norvo's group, but they were still using the trio format, and that meant there was no piano at the venue, which meant that Mulligan had to form a band that didn't rely on the chordal structures that a piano would provide -- the idea of a group with a rhythm section that *didn't* have a piano was quite an innovation in jazz at this time, and freeing themselves from that standard instrument ended up opening up extra possibilities. His group consisted of himself on saxophone, Chet Baker on trumpet, Bob Whitlock on bass and Chico Hamilton on drums. They made music in much the same loose, casual, style as the recordings Mulligan had made with Davis, but in a much smaller group with the emphasis being on the interplay between Mulligan and Baker. And this group were the first group to record on a new label, Pacific Jazz, founded by Dick Bock. Bock had served in the Navy during World War II, and had come back from the South Pacific with two tastes -- a taste for hashish, and for music that was outside the conventional American pop mould. Bock *loved* the Mulligan Quartet, and in partnership with his friend Roy Harte, a notable jazz drummer, he raised three hundred and fifty dollars to record the first album by Mulligan's new group: [Excerpt: Gerry Mulligan Quartet, "Aren't You Glad You're You?"] Pacific Jazz, the label Bock and Harte founded, soon became *the* dominant label for Cool Jazz, which also became known as the West Coast Sound.  The early releases on the label were almost entirely by the Mulligan Quartet, released either under Mulligan's name, as by Chet Baker, or as "Lee Konitz and the Gerry Mulligan Quartet" when Mulligan's old bandmate Konitz joined them. These records became big hits, at least in the world of jazz. But both Mulligan and Baker were heroin addicts, and in 1953 Mulligan got arrested and spent six months in prison. And while he was there, Chet Baker made some recordings in his own right and became a bona fide star. Not only was Baker a great jazz trumpet player, he was also very good looking, and it turned out he could sing too. The Mulligan group had made the song "My Funny Valentine" one of the highlights of its live shows, with Baker taking a trumpet solo: [Excerpt: Gerry Mulligan Quartet, "My Funny Valentine"] But when Baker recorded a vocal version, for his album Chet Baker Sings, it made Baker famous: [Excerpt: Chet Baker, "My Funny Valentine"] When Mulligan got out of prison, he wanted to rehire Baker, but Baker was now topping the popularity polls in all the jazz magazines, and was the biggest breakout jazz star of the early fifties. But Mulligan formed a new group, and this just meant that Pacific Jazz had *two* of the biggest acts in jazz on its books now, rather than just one. But while Bock loved jazz, he was also fascinated by other kinds of music, and while he was in New York at the beginning of 1956 he was invited by his friend George Avakian, a producer who had worked with Miles Davis, Louis Armstrong, and others, to come and see a performance by an Indian musician he was working with. Avakian was just about to produce Ravi Shankar's first American album, The Sounds of India, for Columbia Records. But Columbia didn't think that there was much of a market for Shankar's music -- they were putting it out as a speciality release rather than something that would appeal to the general public -- and so they were happy for Bock to sign Shankar to his own label. Bock renamed the company World Pacific, to signify that it was now going to be putting out music from all over the world, not just jazz, though he kept the Pacific Jazz label for its jazz releases, and he produced Shankar's next album,  India's Master Musician: [Excerpt: Ravi Shankar, "Raga Charu Keshi"] Most of Shankar's recordings for the next decade would be produced by Bock, and Bock would also try to find ways to combine Shankar's music with jazz, though Shankar tried to keep a distinction between the two. But for example on Shankar's next album for World Pacific, Improvisations and Theme from Pather Panchali, he was joined by a group of West Coast jazz musicians including Bud Shank (who we'll hear about again in a future episode) on flute: [Excerpt: Ravi Shankar, "Improvisation on the Theme From Pather Panchali"] But World Pacific weren't just putting out music. They also put out spoken-word records. Some of those were things that would appeal to their jazz audience, like the comedy of Lord Buckley: [Excerpt: Lord Buckley, "Willy the Shake"] But they also put out spoken-word albums that appealed to Bock's interest in spirituality and philosophy, like an album by Gerald Heard. Heard had previously written the liner notes for Chet Baker Sings!, but as well as being a jazz fan Heard was very connected in the world of the arts -- he was a very close friend with Aldous Huxley -- and was also interested in various forms of non-Western spirituality. He practiced yoga, and was also fascinated by Buddhism, Vedanta, and Taoism: [Excerpt: Gerald Heard, "Paraphrased from the Tao te Ching of Lao Tzu"] We've come across Heard before, in passing, in the episode on "Tomorrow Never Knows", when Ralph Mentzner said of his experiments with Timothy Leary and Ram Dass "At the suggestion of Aldous Huxley and Gerald Heard we began using the Bardo Thödol ( Tibetan Book of the Dead) as a guide to psychedelic sessions" -- Heard was friends with both Huxley and Humphrey Osmond, and in fact had been invited by them to take part in the mescaline trip that Huxley wrote about in his book The Doors of Perception, the book that popularised psychedelic drug use, though Heard was unable to attend at that time. Heard was a huge influence on the early psychedelic movement -- though he always advised Leary and his associates not to be so public with their advocacy, and just to keep it to a small enlightened circle rather than risk the wrath of the establishment -- and he's cited by almost everyone in Leary's circle as having been the person who, more than anything else, inspired them to investigate both psychedelic drugs and mysticism. He's the person who connected Bill W. of Alcoholics Anonymous with Osmond and got him advocating LSD use. It was Heard's books that made Huston Smith, the great scholar of comparative religions and associate of Leary, interested in mysticism and religions outside his own Christianity, and Heard was one of the people who gave Leary advice during his early experiments. So it's not surprising that Bock also became interested in Leary's ideas before they became mainstream. Indeed, in 1964 he got Shankar to do the music for a short film based on The Psychedelic Experience, which Shankar did as a favour for his friend even though Shankar didn't approve of drug use. The film won an award in 1965, but quickly disappeared from circulation as its ideas were too controversial: [Excerpt: The Psychedelic Experience (film)] And Heard introduced Bock to other ideas around philosophy and non-Western religions. In particular, Bock became an advocate for a little-known Hindu mystic who had visited the US in 1959 teaching a new style of meditation which he called Transcendental Meditation. A lot is unclear about the early life of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, even his birth name -- both "Maharishi" and "Yogi" are honorifics rather than names as such, though he later took on both as part of his official name, and in this and future episodes I'll refer to him as "the Maharishi". What we do know is that he was born in India, and had attained a degree in physics before going off to study with Swami Brahmananda Saraswati, a teacher of the Advaita Vedanta school of Hinduism. Now, I am not a Hindu, and only have a passing knowledge of Hindu theology and traditions, and from what I can gather getting a proper understanding requires a level of cultural understanding I don't have, and in particular a knowledge of the Sanskrit language, so my deepest apologies for any mangling I do of these beliefs in trying to talk about them as they pertain to mid-sixties psychedelic rock. I hope my ignorance is forgivable, and seen as what it is rather than malice. But the teachings of this school as I understand them seem to centre around an idea of non-separation -- that God is in all things, and is all things, and that there is no separation between different things, and that you merely have to gain a deep realisation of this. The Maharishi later encapsulated this in the phrase "I am that, thou art that, all this is that", which much later the Beach Boys, several of whom were followers of the Maharishi, would turn into a song: [Excerpt: The Beach Boys, "All This is That"] The other phrase they're singing there, "Jai Guru Dev" is also a phrase from the Maharishi, and refers to his teacher Brahmananda Saraswati -- it means "all hail the divine teacher" or "glory to the heavenly one", and "guru dev" or "guru deva" was the name the Maharishi would use for Saraswati after his death, as the Maharishi believed that Saraswati was an actual incarnation of God. It's that phrase that John Lennon is singing in "Across the Universe" as well, another song later inspired by the Maharishi's teachings: [Excerpt: The Beatles, "Across the Universe"] The Maharishi became, by his own account, Saraswati's closest disciple, advisor, and right-hand man, and was privy to his innermost thoughts. However, on Saraswati's death the leadership of the monastery he led became deeply contested, with two different rivals to the position, and the Maharishi was neither -- the rules of the monastery said that only people born into the Brahmin caste could reach the highest positions in the monastery's structure, and the Maharishi was not a Brahmin. So instead of remaining in the monastery, the Maharishi went out into the world to teach a new form of meditation which he claimed he had learned from Guru Dev, a technique which became known as transcendental meditation. The Maharishi would, for the rest of his life, always claim that the system he taught was Guru Dev's teaching for the world, not his own, though the other people who had been at the monastery with him said different things about what Saraswati had taught -- but of course it's perfectly possible for a spiritual leader to have had multiple ideas and given different people different tasks. The crucial thing about the Maharishi's teaching, the way it differed from everything else in the history of Hindu monasticism (as best I understand this) is that all previous teachers of meditation had taught that to get the benefit of the techniques one had to be a renunciate -- you should go off and become a monk and give up all worldly pleasures and devote your life to prayer and meditation. Traditionally, Hinduism has taught that there are four stages of life -- the student, the householder or married person with a family, the retired person, and the Sanyasi, or renunciate, but that you could skip straight from being a student to being a Sanyasi and spend your life as a monk. The Maharishi, though, said: "Obviously enough there are two ways of life: the way of the Sanyasi and the way of life of a householder. One is quite opposed to the other. A Sanyasi renounces everything of the world, whereas a householder needs and accumulates everything. The one realises, through renunciation and detachment, while the other goes through all attachments and accumulation of all that is needed for physical life." What the Maharishi taught was that there are some people who achieve the greatest state of happiness by giving up all the pleasures of the senses, eating the plainest possible food, having no sexual, familial, or romantic connections with anyone else, and having no possessions, while there are other people who achieve the greatest state of happiness by being really rich and having a lot of nice stuff and loads of friends and generally enjoying the pleasures of the flesh -- and that just as there are types of meditation that can help the first group reach enlightenment, there are also types of meditation that will fit into the latter kind of lifestyle, and will help those people reach oneness with God but without having to give up their cars and houses and money. And indeed, he taught that by following his teachings you could get *more* of those worldly pleasures. All you had to do, according to his teaching, was to sit still for fifteen to twenty minutes, twice a day, and concentrate on a single Sanskrit word or phrase, a mantra, which you would be given after going through a short course of teaching. There was nothing else to it, and you would eventually reach the same levels of enlightenment as the ascetics who spent seventy years living in a cave and eating only rice -- and you'd end up richer, too. The appeal of this particular school is, of course, immediately apparent, and Bock became a big advocate of the Maharishi, and put out three albums of his lectures: [Excerpt: Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, "Deep Meditation"] Bock even met his second wife at one of the Maharishi's lectures, in 1961. In the early sixties, World Pacific got bought up by Liberty Records, the label for which Jan and Dean and others recorded, but Bock remained in charge of the label, and expanded it, adding another subsidiary, Aura Records, to put out rock and roll singles. Aura was much less successful than the other World Pacific labels. The first record the label put out was a girl-group record, "Shooby Dooby", by the Lewis Sisters, two jazz-singing white schoolteachers from Michigan who would later go on to have a brief career at Motown: [Excerpt: The Lewis Sisters, "Shooby Dooby"] The most successful act that Aura ever had was Sonny Knight, an R&B singer who had had a top twenty hit in 1956 with "Confidential", a song he'd recorded on Specialty Records with Bumps Blackwell, and which had been written by Dorinda Morgan: [Excerpt: Sonny Knight, "Confidential"] But Knight's biggest hit on Aura, "If You Want This Love", only made number seventy-one on the pop charts: [Excerpt: Sonny Knight, "If You Want This Love"] Knight would later go on to write a novel, The Day the Music Died, which Greil Marcus described as "the bitterest book ever written about how rock'n'roll came to be and what it turned into". Marcus said it was about "how a rich version of American black culture is transformed into a horrible, enormously profitable white parody of itself: as white labels sign black artists only to ensure their oblivion and keep those blacks they can't control penned up in the ghetto of the black charts; as white America, faced with something good, responds with a poison that will ultimately ruin even honest men". Given that Knight was the artist who did the *best* out of Aura Records, that says a great deal about the label. But one of the bands that Aura signed, who did absolutely nothing on the charts, was a group called Rick and the Ravens, led by a singer called Screamin' Ray Daniels. They were an LA club band who played a mixture of the surf music which the audiences wanted and covers of blues songs which Daniels preferred to sing. They put out two singles on Aura, "Henrietta": [Excerpt: Rick and the Ravens, "Henrietta"] and "Soul Train": [Excerpt: Rick and the Ravens, "Soul Train"] Ray Daniels was a stage name -- his birth name was Ray Manzarek, and he would later return to that name -- and the core of the band was Ray on vocals and his brothers Rick on guitar and Jim on harmonica. Manzarek thought of himself as a pretty decent singer, but they were just a bar band, and music wasn't really his ideal career.  Manzarek had been sent to college by his solidly lower-middle-class Chicago family in the hope that he would become a lawyer, but after getting a degree in economics and a brief stint in the army, which he'd signed up for to avoid getting drafted in the same way people like Dean Torrence did, he'd gone off to UCLA to study film, with the intention of becoming a filmmaker. His family had followed him to California, and he'd joined his brothers' band as a way of making a little extra money on the side, rather than as a way to become a serious musician. Manzarek liked the blues songs they performed, and wasn't particularly keen on the surf music, but thought it was OK. What he really liked, though, was jazz -- he was a particular fan of McCoy Tyner, the pianist on all the great John Coltrane records: [Excerpt: John Coltrane, "My Favorite Things"] Manzarek was a piano player himself, though he didn't play much with the Ravens, and he wanted more than anything to be able to play like Tyner, and so when Rick and the Ravens got signed to Aura Records, he of course became friendly with Dick Bock, who had produced so many great jazz records and worked with so many of the greats of the genre. But Manzarek was also having some problems in his life. He'd started taking LSD, which was still legal, and been fascinated by its effects, but worried that he couldn't control them -- he couldn't tell whether he was going to have a good trip or a bad one. He was wondering if there was a way he could have the same kind of revelatory mystical experience but in a more controlled manner. When he mentioned this to Bock, Bock told him that the best method he knew for doing that was transcendental meditation. Bock gave him a copy of one of the Maharishi's albums, and told him to go to a lecture on transcendental meditation, run by the head of the Maharishi's west-coast organisation, as by this point the Maharishi's organisation, known as Spiritual Regeneration, had an international infrastructure, though it was still nowhere near as big as it would soon become. At the lecture, Manzarek got talking to one of the other audience members, a younger man named John Densmore. Densmore had come to the lecture with his friend Robby Krieger, and both had come for the same reason that Manzarek had -- they'd been having bad trips and so had become a little disillusioned with acid. Krieger had been the one who'd heard about transcendental meditation, while he was studying the sitar and sarod at UCLA -- though Krieger would later always say that his real major had been in "not joining the Army". UCLA had one of the few courses in Indian music available in the US at the time, as thanks in part to Bock California had become the centre of American interest in music from India -- so much so that in 1967 Ravi Shankar would open up a branch of his own Kinnara Music School there. (And you can get an idea of how difficult it is to separate fact from fiction when researching this episode that one of the biographies I've used for the Doors says that Krieger heard about the Maharishi while studying at the Kinnara school. As the only branch of the Kinnara school that was open at this point was in Mumbai, it's safe to say that unless Krieger had a *really* long commute he wasn't studying there at this point.) Densmore and Manzarek got talking, and they found that they shared a lot of the same tastes in jazz -- just as Manzarek was a fan of McCoy Tyner, so Densmore was a fan of Elvin Jones, the drummer on those Coltrane records, and they both loved the interplay of the two musicians: [Excerpt: John Coltrane, "My Favorite Things"] Manzarek was starting to play a bit more keyboards with the Ravens, and he was also getting annoyed with the Ravens' drummer, who had started missing rehearsals -- he'd turn up only for the shows themselves. He thought it might be an idea to get Densmore to join the group, and Densmore agreed to come along for a rehearsal. That initial rehearsal Densmore attended had Manzarek and his brothers, and may have had a bass player named Patricia Hansen, who was playing with the group from time to time around this point, though she was mostly playing with a different bar band, Patty and the Esquires. But as well as the normal group members, there was someone else there, a friend of Manzarek's from film school named Jim Morrison. Morrison was someone who, by Manzarek's later accounts, had been very close to Manzarek at university, and who Manzarek had regarded as a genius, with a vast knowledge of beat poetry and European art film, but who had been regarded by most of the other students and the lecturers as being a disruptive influence. Morrison had been a fat, asthmatic, introverted kid -- he'd had health problems as a child, including a bout of rheumatic fever which might have weakened his heart, and he'd also been prone to playing the kind of "practical jokes" which can often be a cover for deeper problems. For example, as a child he was apparently fond of playing dead -- lying in the corridors at school and being completely unresponsive for long periods no matter what anyone did to move him, then suddenly getting up and laughing at anyone who had been concerned and telling them it was a joke. Given how frequently Morrison would actually pass out in later life, often after having taken some substance or other, at least one biographer has suggested that he might have had undiagnosed epilepsy (or epilepsy that was diagnosed but which he chose to keep a secret) and have been having absence seizures and covering for them with the jokes. Robby Krieger also says in his own autobiography that he used to have the same doctor as Morrison, and the doctor once made an offhand comment about Morrison having severe health problems, "as if it was common knowledge". His health difficulties, his weight, his introversion, and the experience of moving home constantly as a kid because of his father's career in the Navy, had combined to give him a different attitude to most of his fellow students, and in particular a feeling of rootlessness -- he never owned or even rented his own home in later years, just moving in with friends or girlfriends -- and a lack of sense of his own identity, which would often lead to him making up lies about his life and acting as if he believed them. In particular, he would usually claim to friends that his parents were dead, or that he had no contact with them, even though his family have always said he was in at least semi-regular contact. At university, Morrison had been a big fan of Rick and the Ravens, and had gone to see them perform regularly, but would always disrupt the shows -- he was, by all accounts, a lovely person when sober but an aggressive boor when drunk -- by shouting out for them to play "Louie Louie", a song they didn't include in their sets. Eventually one of Ray's brothers had called his bluff and said they'd play the song, but only if Morrison got up on stage and sang it. He had -- the first time he'd ever performed live -- and had surprised everyone by being quite a good singer. After graduation, Morrison and Manzarek had gone their separate ways, with Morrison saying he was moving to New York. But a few weeks later they'd encountered each other on the beach -- Morrison had decided to stay in LA, and had been staying with a friend, mostly sleeping on the friend's rooftop. He'd been taking so much LSD he'd forgotten to eat for weeks at a time, and had lost a great deal of weight, and Manzarek properly realised for the first time that his friend was actually good-looking. Morrison also told Manzarek that he'd been writing songs -- this was summer 1965, and the Byrds' version of "Mr. Tambourine Man", Dylan's "Like a Rolling Stone", and the Stones' "Satisfaction" had all shown him that there was potential for pop songs to have more interesting lyrical content than "Louie Louie". Manzarek asked him to sing some of the songs he'd been writing, and as Manzarek later put it "he began to sing, not in the booze voice he used at the Turkey Joint, but in a Chet Baker voice". The first song Morrison sang for Ray Manzarek was one of the songs that Rick and the Ravens would rehearse that first time with John Densmore, "Moonlight Drive": [Excerpt: Rick and the Ravens, "Moonlight Drive"] Manzarek invited Morrison to move in with him and his girlfriend. Manzarek seems to have thought of himself as a mentor, a father figure, for Morrison, though whether that's how Morrison thought of him is impossible to say. Manzarek, who had a habit of choosing the myth over the truth, would later claim that he had immediately decided that he and Morrison were going to be a duo and find a whole new set of musicians, but all the evidence points to him just inviting Morrison to join the Ravens as the singer Certainly the first recordings this group made, a series of demos, were under Rick and the Ravens' name, and paid for by Aura Records. They're all of songs written by Morrison, and seem to be sung by Morrison and Manzarek in close harmony throughout. But the demos did not impress the head of Liberty Records, which now owned Aura, and who saw no commercial potential in them, even in one that later became a number one hit when rerecorded a couple of years later: [Excerpt: Rick and the Ravens, "Hello I Love You"] Although to be fair, that song is clearly the work of a beginning songwriter, as Morrison has just taken the riff to "All Day and All of the Night" by the Kinks, and stuck new words to it: [Excerpt: The Kinks, "All Day and All of the Night"] But it seems to have been the lack of success of these demos that convinced Manzarek's brothers and Patricia Hansen to quit the band. According to Manzarek, his brothers were not interested in what they saw as Morrison's pretensions towards poetry, and didn't think this person who seemed shy and introverted in rehearsals but who they otherwise knew as a loud annoying drunk in the audience would make a good frontman. So Rick and the Ravens were down to just Jim Morrison, Ray Manzarek, and John Densmore, but they continued shopping their demos around, and after being turned down by almost everyone they were signed by Columbia Records, specifically by Billy James, who they liked because he'd written the liner notes to a Byrds album, comparing them to Coltrane, and Manzarek liked the idea of working with an A&R man who knew Coltrane's work, though he wasn't impressed by the Byrds themselves, later writing "The Byrds were country, they didn't have any black in them at all. They couldn't play jazz. Hell, they probably didn't even know anything about jazz. They were folk-rock, for cri-sake. Country music. For whites only." (Ray Manzarek was white). They didn't get an advance from Columbia, but they did get free equipment -- Columbia had just bought Vox, who made amplifiers and musical instruments, and Manzarek in particular was very pleased to have a Vox organ, the same kind that the Animals and the Dave Clark Five used. But they needed a guitarist and a bass player. Manzarek claimed in his autobiography that he was thinking along the lines of a four-piece group even before he met Densmore, and that his thoughts had been "Someone has to be Thumper and someone has to be Les Paul/Chuck Berry by way of Charlie Christian. The guitar player will be a rocker who knows jazz. And the drummer will be a jazzer who can rock. These were my prerequisites. This is what I had to have to make the music I heard in my head." But whatever Manzarek was thinking, there were only two people who auditioned for the role of the guitar player in this new version of the band, both of them friends of Densmore, and in fact two people who had been best friends since high school -- Bill Wolff and Robby Krieger. Wolff and Krieger had both gone to private boarding school -- they had both originally gone to normal state schools, but their parents had independently decided they were bad influences on each other and sent them away to boarding school to get away from each other, but accidentally sent them to the same school -- and had also learned guitar together. They had both loved a record of flamenco guitar called Dos Flamencos by Jaime Grifo and Nino Marvino: [Excerpt: Jaime Grifo and Nino Marvino, "Caracolés"] And they'd decided they were going to become the new Dos Flamencos. They'd also regularly sneaked out of school to go and see a jug band called Mother McCree's Uptown Jug Champions, a band which featured Bob Weir, who was also at their school, along with Jerry Garcia and Pigpen McKernan. Krieger was also a big fan of folk and blues music, especially bluesy folk-revivalists like Spider John Koerner, and was a massive fan of the Paul Butterfield Blues Band. Krieger and Densmore had known each other before Krieger had been transferred to boarding school, and had met back up at university, where they would hang out together and go to see Charles Mingus, Wes Montgomery, and other jazz musicians. At this time Krieger had still been a folk and blues purist, but then he went to see Chuck Berry live, mostly because Skip James and Big Mama Thornton were also on the bill, and he had a Damascene conversion -- the next day he went to a music shop and traded in his acoustic for a red Gibson, as close to the one Chuck Berry played as he could find. Wolff, Densmore, Krieger, and piano player Grant Johnson had formed a band called the Psychedelic Rangers, and when the Ravens were looking for a new guitarist, it was natural that they tried the two guitarists from Densmore's other band. Krieger had the advantage over Wolff for two reasons -- one of which was actually partly Wolff's doing. To quote Krieger's autobiography: "A critic once said I had 'the worst hair in rock 'n' roll'. It stung pretty bad, but I can't say they were wrong. I always battled with my naturally frizzy, kinky, Jewfro, so one day my friend Bill Wolff and I experimented with Ultra Sheen, a hair relaxer marketed mainly to Black consumers. The results were remarkable. Wolff, as we all called him, said 'You're starting to look like that jerk Bryan MacLean'". According to Krieger, his new hairdo made him better looking than Wolff, at least until the straightener wore off, and this was one of the two things that made the group choose him over Wolff, who was a better technical player. The other was that Krieger played with a bottleneck, which astonished the other members. If you're unfamiliar with bottleneck playing, it's a common technique in the blues. You tune your guitar to an open chord, and then use a resonant tube -- these days usually a specially-made metal slide that goes on your finger, but for older blues musicians often an actual neck of a bottle, broken off and filed down -- to slide across the strings. Slide guitar is one of the most important styles in blues, especially electric blues, and you can hear it in the playing of greats like Elmore James: [Excerpt: Elmore James, "Dust My Broom"] But while the members of the group all claimed to be blues fans -- Manzarek talks in his autobiography about going to see Muddy Waters in a club in the South Side of Chicago where he and his friends were the only white faces in the audience -- none of them had any idea what bottleneck playing was, and Manzarek was worried when Krieger pulled it out that he was going to use it as a weapon, that being the only association he had with bottle necks. But once Krieger played with it, they were all convinced he had to be their guitarist, and Morrison said he wanted that sound on everything. Krieger joining seems to have changed the dynamic of the band enormously. Both Morrison and Densmore would independently refer to Krieger as their best friend in the band -- Manzarek said that having a best friend was a childish idea and he didn't have one. But where before this had been Manzarek's band with Morrison as the singer, it quickly became a band centred around the creative collaboration between Krieger and Morrison. Krieger seems to have been too likeable for Manzarek to dislike him, and indeed seems to have been the peacemaker in the band on many occasions, but Manzarek soon grew to resent Densmore, seemingly as the closeness he had felt to Morrison started to diminish, especially after Morrison moved out of Manzarek's house, apparently because Manzarek was starting to remind him of his father. The group soon changed their name from the Ravens to one inspired by Morrison's reading. Aldous Huxley's book on psychedelic drugs had been titled The Doors of Perception, and that title had in turn come from a quote from The Marriage of Heaven and Hell by the great mystic poet and artist William Blake, who had written "If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern" (Incidentally, in one of those weird coincidences that I like to note when they come up, Blake's Marriage of Heaven and Hell had also inspired the book The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis, about the divorce of heaven and hell, and both Lewis and Huxley died on the same date, the twenty-second of November 1963, the same day John F. Kennedy died). Morrison decided that he wanted to rename the group The Doors, although none of the other group members were particularly keen on the idea -- Krieger said that he thought they should name the group Perception instead. Initially the group rehearsed only songs written by Morrison, along with a few cover versions. They worked up a version of Willie Dixon's "Back Door Man", originally recorded by Howlin' Wolf: [Excerpt: Howlin' Wolf, "Back Door Man"] And a version of "Alabama Song", a song written by Bertholt Brecht and Kurt Weill, from the opera The Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny, with English language lyrics by  Elisabeth Hauptmann. That song had originally been recorded by Lotte Lenya, and it was her version that the group based their version on, at the suggestion of Manzarek's girlfriend: [Excerpt: Lotte Lenya, "Alabama Song"] Though it's likely given their tastes in jazz that they were also aware of a recent recording of the song by Eric Dolphy and John Lewis: [Excerpt: Eric Dolphy and John Lewis, "Alabama Song"] But Morrison started to get a little dissatisfied with the fact that he was writing all the group's original material at this point, and he started to put pressure on the others to bring in songs. One of the first things they had agreed was that all band members would get equal credit and shares of the songwriting, so that nobody would have an incentive to push their own mediocre song at the expense of someone else's great one, but Morrison did want the others to start pulling their weight. As it would turn out, for the most part Manzarek and Densmore wouldn't bring in many song ideas, but Krieger would, and the first one he brought in would be the song that would make them into stars. The song Krieger brought in was one he called "Light My Fire", and at this point it only had one verse and a chorus. According to Manzarek, Densmore made fun of the song when it was initially brought in, saying "we're not a folk-rock band" and suggesting that Krieger might try selling it to the Mamas and the Papas, but the other band members liked it -- but it's important to remember here that Manzarek and Densmore had huge grudges against each other for most of their lives, and that Manzarek is not generally known as an entirely reliable narrator. Now, I'm going to talk a lot about the influences that have been acknowledged for this song, but before I do there's one that I haven't seen mentioned much but which seems to me to be very likely to have at least been a subconscious influence -- "She's Not There" by the Zombies: [Excerpt: The Zombies, "She's Not There"] Now, there are several similarities to note about the Zombies record. First, like the Doors, the Zombies were a keyboard-driven band. Second, there's the dynamics of the songs -- both have soft, slightly jazzy verses and then a more straight-ahead rock chorus. And finally there's the verse chord sequence. The verse for "She's Not There" goes from Am to D repeatedly: [demonstrates] While the verse for "Light My Fire" goes from Am to F sharp minor -- and for those who don't know, the notes in a D chord are D, F sharp, and A, while the notes in an F sharp minor chord are F sharp, A, and C sharp -- they're very similar chords. So "She's Not There" is: [demonstrates] While "Light My Fire" is: [demonstrates] At least, that's what Manzarek plays. According to Krieger, he played an Asus2 chord rather than an A minor chord, but Manzarek heard it as an A minor and played that instead. Now again, I've not seen anyone acknowledge "She's Not There" as an influence, but given the other influences that they do acknowledge, and the music that was generally in the air at the time, it would not surprise me even the smallest amount if it was. But either way, what Krieger brought in was a simple verse and chorus: [Excerpt: The Doors, "Light My Fire"] Incidentally, I've been talking about the song as having A minor chords, but you'll actually hear the song in two different keys during this episode, even though it's the same performance throughout, and sometimes it might not sound right to people familiar with a particular version of the record. The band played the song with the verse starting with A minor, and that's how the mono single mix was released, and I'll be using excerpts of that in general. But when the stereo version of the album was released, which had a longer instrumental break, the track was mastered about a semitone too slow, and that's what I'll be excerpting when talking about the solos -- and apparently that speed discrepancy has been fixed in more recent remasterings of the album than the one I'm using. So if you know the song and bits of what I play sound odd to you, that's why. Krieger didn't have a second verse, and so writing the second verse's lyrics was the next challenge. There was apparently some disagreement within the band about the lyrics that Morrison came up with, with their references to funeral pyres, but Morrison won the day, insisting that the song needed some darkness to go with the light of the first verse. Both verses would get repeated at the end of the song, in reverse order, rather than anyone writing a third or fourth verse. Morrison also changed the last line of the chorus -- in Krieger's original version, he'd sung "Come on baby, light my fire" three times, but Morrison changed the last line to "try to set the night on fire", which Krieger thought was a definite improvement. They then came up with an extended instrumental section for the band members to solo in. This was inspired by John Coltrane, though I have seen different people make different claims as to which particular Coltrane record it was inspired by. Many sources, including Krieger, say it was based on Coltrane's famous version of "My Favorite Things": [Excerpt: John Coltrane, "My Favorite Things"] But Manzarek in his autobiography says it was inspired by Ole, the track that Coltrane recorded with Eric Dolphy: [Excerpt: John Coltrane, "Ole"] Both are of course similar musical ideas, and either could have inspired the “Light My Fire” instrumental section, though none of the Doors are anything like as good or inventive on their instruments as Coltrane's group (and of course "Light My Fire" is in four-four rather than three-four): [Excerpt: The Doors, "Light My Fire"] So they had a basic verse-chorus song with a long instrumental jam session in the middle. Now comes the bit that there's some dispute over.  Both Ray Manzarek and Robby Krieger agree that Manzarek came up with the melody used in the intro, but differ wildly over who came up with the chord sequence for it and when, and how it was put into the song. According to Manzarek, he came up with the whole thing as an intro for the song at that first rehearsal of it, and instructed the other band members what to do. According to Krieger, though, the story is rather different, and the evidence seems to be weighted in Krieger's favour. In early live performances of the song, they started the song with the Am-F sharp minor shifts that were used in the verse itself, and continued doing this even after the song was recorded: [Excerpt: The Doors, "Light My Fire (live at the Matrix)"] But they needed a way to get back out of the solo section and into the third verse. To do this, Krieger came up with a sequence that starts with a change from G to D, then from D to F, before going into a circle of fifths -- not the ascending circle of fifths in songs like "Hey Joe", but a descending one, the same sequence as in "She Came in Through the Bathroom Window" or "I Will Survive", ending on an A flat: [demonstrates] To get from the A flat to the A minor or Asus2 chord on which the verse starts, he simply then shifted up a semitone from A flat to A major for two bars: [demonstrates] Over the top of that chord sequence that Krieger had come up with, Manzarek put a melody line which was inspired by one of Bach's two-part inventions. The one that's commonly cited is Invention No. 8 in F Major, BWV 779: [Excerpt: Glenn Gould, "Invention No. 8 in F Major, BWV 779"] Though I don't believe Manzarek has ever stated directly which piece he was inspired by other than that it was one of the two-part inventions, and to be honest none of them sound very much like what he plays to my ears, and I think more than anything he was just going for a generalised baroque style rather than anything more specific. And there are certainly stylistic things in there that are suggestive of the baroque -- the stepwise movement, the sort of skipping triplets, and so on: [Excerpt: The Doors, "Light My Fire"] But that was just to get out of the solo section and back into the verses. It was only when they finally took the song into the studio that Paul Rothchild, the producer who we will talk about more later, came up with the idea of giving the song more structure by both starting and ending with that sequence, and formalised it so that rather than just general noodling it was an integral part of the song. They now had at least one song that they thought had the potential to be a big hit. The problem was that they had not as yet played any gigs, and nor did they have a record deal, or a bass player. The lack of a record deal may sound surprising, but they were dropped by Columbia before ever recording for them. There are several different stories as to why. One biography I've read says that after they were signed, none of the label's staff producers wanted to work with them and so they were dropped -- though that goes against some of the other things I've read, which say that Terry Melcher was interested in producing them. Other sources say that Morrison went in for a meeting with some of the company executives while on acid, came out very pleased with himself at how well he'd talked to them because he'd been able to control their minds with his telepathic powers, and they were dropped shortly afterwards. And others say that they were dropped as part of a larger set of cutbacks the company was making, and that while Billy James fought to keep them at Columbia, he lost the fight. Either way, they were stuck without a deal, and without any proper gigs, though they started picking up the odd private party here and there -- Krieger's father was a wealthy aerospace engineer who did some work for Howard Hughes among others, and he got his son's group booked to play a set of jazz standards at a corporate event for Hughes, and they got a few more gigs of that nature, though the Hughes gig didn't exactly go well -- Manzarek was on acid, Krieger and Morrison were on speed, and the bass player they brought in for the gig managed to break two strings, something that would require an almost superhuman effort. That bass player didn't last long, and nor did the next -- they tried several, but found that the addition of a bass player made them sound less interesting, more like the Animals or the Rolling Stones than a group with their own character. But they needed something to hold down the low part, and it couldn't be Manzarek on the organ, as the Vox organ had a muddy sound when he tried to play too many notes at once. But that problem solved itself when they played one of their earliest gigs. There, Manzarek found that another band, who were regulars at the club, had left their Fender keyboard bass there, clipped to the top of the piano. Manzarek tried playing that, and found he could play basslines on that with his left hand and the main parts with his right hand. Krieger got his father to buy one for the group -- though Manzarek was upset that they bought the wrong colour -- and they were now able to perform without a bass player. Not only that, but it gave the group a distinctive sound quite unlike all the other bands. Manzarek couldn't play busy bass lines while also playing lead lines with his right hand, and so he ended up going for simple lines without a great deal of movement, which added to the hypnotic feel of the group's music – though on records they would often be supplemented by a session bass player to give them a fuller sound. While the group were still trying to get a record deal, they were also looking for regular gigs, and eventually they found one. The Sunset Strip was *the* place to be, and they wanted desperately to play one of the popular venues there like the Whisky A-Go-Go, but those venues only employed bands who already had record deals. They did, though, manage to get a residency at a tiny, unpopular, club on the strip called The London Fog, and they played there, often to only a handful of people, while slowly building in confidence as performers. At first, Morrison was so shy that Manzarek had to sing harmony with him throughout the sets, acting as joint frontman. Krieger later said "It's rarely talked about, but Ray was a natural born showman, and his knack for stirring drama would serve the Doors' legacy well in later years" But Morrison soon gained enough confidence to sing by himself. But they weren't bringing in any customers, and the London Fog told them that they were soon going to be dropped -- and the club itself shut not long after. But luckily for the group, just before the end of their booking, the booker for the Whisky A-Go-Go, Ronnie Haran walked in with a genuine pop star, Peter Asher, who as half of Peter & Gordon had had a hit with "A World Without Love", written by his sister's boyfriend, Paul McCartney: [Excerpt: Peter and Gordon, "A World Without Love"] Haran was impressed with the group, and they were impressed that she had brought in a real celebrity. She offered them a residency at the club, not as the headlining act -- that would always be a group that had records out -- but as the consistent support act for whichever big act they had booked. The group agreed -- after Morrison first tried to play it cool and told Haran they would have to consider it, to the consternation of his bandmates. They were thrilled, though, to discover that one of the first acts they supported at the Whisky would be Them, Van Morrison's group -- one of the cover versions they had been playing had been Them's "Gloria": [Excerpt: Them, "Gloria"] They supported Them for two weeks at the Whisky, and Jim Morrison watched Van Morrison intently. The two men had very similar personalities according to the other members of the Doors, and Morrison picked up a lot of his performing style from watching Van on stage every night. The last night Them played the venue, Morrison joined them on stage for an extended version of “Gloria” which everyone involved remembered as the highlight of their time there. Every major band on the LA scene played residencies at the Whisky, and over the summer of 1966 the Doors were the support act for the Mothers of Invention, the Byrds, the Turtles, the Buffalo Springfield, and Captain Beefheart and the Magic Band. This was a time when the Sunset Strip was the centre of Californian musical life, before that centre moved to San Francisco, and the Doors were right at the heart of it. Though it wasn't all great -- this was also the period when there were a series of riots around Sunset Strip, as immortalised in the American International Pictures film Riot on Sunset Strip, and its theme song, by the Standells: [Excerpt: The Standells, "Riot on Sunset Strip"] We'll look at those riots in more detail in a future episode, so I'll leave discussing them for now, but I just wanted to make sure they got mentioned. That Standells song, incidentally, was co-written by John Fleck, who under his old name of John Fleckenstein we saw last episode as the original bass player for Love. And it was Love who ensured that the Doors finally got the record deal they needed. The deal came at a perfect time for the Doors -- just like when they'd been picked up by the Whisky A Go-Go just as they were about to lose their job at the London Fog, so they got signed to a record deal just as they were about to lose their job at the Whisky. They lost that job because of a new song that Krieger and Morrison had written. "The End" had started out as Krieger's attempt at writing a raga in the style of Ravi Shankar, and he had brought it in to one of his increasingly frequent writing sessions with Morrison, where the two of them would work out songs without the rest of the band, and Morrison had added lyrics to it. Lyrics that were partly inspired by his own fraught relationship with his parents, and partly by Oedipus Rex: [Excerpt: The Doors, "The End"] And in the live performance, Morrison had finished that phrase with the appropriate four-letter Oedipal payoff, much to the dismay of the owners of the Whisky A Go Go, who had told the group they would no longer be performing there. But three days before that, the group had signed a deal with Elektra Records. Elektra had for a long time been a folk specialist label, but they had recently branched out into other music, first with the Paul Butterfield Blues Band, a favourite of Robby Krieger's, and then with their first real rock signing, Love. And Love were playing a residency at the Whisky A Go Go, and Arthur Lee had encouraged Jac Holzman, the label's owner, to come and check out their support band, who he thought were definitely worth signing. The first time Holzman saw them he was unimpressed -- they sounded to him just like a bunch of other white blues bands -- but he trusted Arthur Lee's judgement and came back a couple more times. The third time, they performed their version of "Alabama Song", and everything clicked into place for Holzman. He immediately signed the group to a three-album deal with an option to extend it to seven. The group were thrilled -- Elektra wasn't a major label like Columbia, but they were a label that nurtured artists and wouldn't just toss them aside. They were even happier when soon after they signed to Elektra, the label signed up a new head of West Coast A&R -- Billy James, the man who had signed them to Columbia, and who they knew would be in their corner. Jac Holzman also had the perfect producer for the group, though he needed a little persuading. Paul Rothchild had made his name as the producer for the first couple of albums by the Paul Butterfield Blues Band: [Excerpt: The Paul Butterfield Blues Band, "Mary Mary"] They were Robby Krieger's favourite group, so it made sense to have Rothchild on that level. And while Rothchild had mostly worked in New York, he was in LA that summer, working on the debut album by another Elektra signing, Tim Buckley. The musicians on Buckley's album were almost all part of the same LA scene that the Doors were part of -- other than Buckley's normal guitarist Lee Underwood there was keyboard player Van Dyke Parks, bass player Jim Fielder, who had had a brief stint in the Mothers of Invention and was about to join Buffalo Springfield, and drummer Billy Mundi, who was about to join the Mothers of Invention. And Buckley himself sang in a crooning voice extremely similar to that of Morrison, though Buckley had a much larger range: [Excerpt: Tim Buckley, "Aren't You the Girl?"] There was one problem, though -- Rothchild didn't want to do it. He wasn't at all impressed with the band at first, and he wanted to sign a different band, managed by Albert Grossman, instead. But Holzman persuaded him because Rothchild owed him a favour -- Rothchild had just spent several months in prison after a drug bust, and while he was inside Holzman had given his wife a job so she would have an income, and Holzman also did all the paperwork with Rothchild's parole officer to allow him to leave the state. So with great reluctance Rothchild took the job, though he soon came to appreciate the group's music. He didn't appreciate their second session though. The first day, they'd tried recording a version of "The End", but it hadn't worked, so on the second night they tried recording it again, but this time Morrison was on acid and behaving rather oddly. The final version of "The End" had to be cut together from two takes, and the reason is that at the point we heard earlier: [Excerpt: The Doors, "The End"] Morrison was whirling around, thrashing about, and knocked over a TV that the engineer, Bruce Botnick, had brought into the studio so he could watch the baseball game -- which Manzarek later exaggerated to Morrison throwing the TV through the plate glass window between the studio and the control room. According to everyone else, Morrison just knocked it over and they picked it up after the take finished and it still worked fine. But Morrison had taken a *lot* of acid, and on the way home after the session he became convinced that he had a psychic knowledge that the studio was on fire. He got his girlfriend to turn the car back around, drove back to the studio, climbed over the fence, saw the glowing red lightbulbs in the studio, became convinced that they were fires, and sprayed the entire place with the fire extinguisher, before leaving convinced he had saved the band's equipment -- and leaving telltale evidence as his boot got stuck in the fence on the way out and he just left it there. But despite that little hiccup, the sessions generally went well, and the group and label were pleased with the results. The first single released from the album, "Break on Through", didn't make the Hot One Hundred: [Excerpt: The Doors, "Break on Through"] But when the album came out in January 1967, Elektra put all its resources behind the album, and it started to get a bit of airplay as a result. In particular, one DJ on the new FM radio started playing "Light My Fire" -- at this time, FM had only just started, and while AM radio stuck to three-minute singles for the most part, FM stations would play a wider variety of music. Some of the AM DJs started telling Elektra that they would play the record, too, if it was the length of a normal single, and so Rothchild and Botnick went into the studio and edited the track down to half its previous seven-and-a-half-minute length. When the group were called in to hear the edit, they were initially quite excited to hear what kind of clever editing microsurgery had been done to bring the song down to the required length, but they were horrified when Rothchild actually played it for them. As far as the group were concerned, the heart of the song was the extended instrumental improvisation that took up the middle section: [Excerpt: The Doors, "Light My Fire"] On the album version, that lasted over three minutes. Rothchild and Botnick cut that section down to just this: [Excerpt: The Doors, "Light My Fire (single edit)"] The group were mortified -- what had been done to their song? That wasn't the sound of people trying to be McCoy Tyner and Elvin Jones, it was just... a pop song.  Rothchild explained that that was the point -- to get the song played on AM radio and get the group a hit. He pointed out how the Beatles records never had an instrumental section that lasted more than eight bars, and the group eventually talked them

Playlist: Snatch It Back and Hold It – Junior Wells; Devil Got My Woman, Sickbed Blues, Special Rider Blues, I'm So Glad, Crow Jane – Skip James; Poor Black Mattie, No Angels, It's Your Voodoo Working, Crow Jane – Samantha Fish; I'mma Make You Love Me, Player Blues, Wait, I Don't Need It – Amanda Fish Band; Hard Time Killin' Floor Blues – Skip James. Escuchar audio

Notre 1er invité est Kepa pour la sortie de son 2ème album Divine Morphine (Éditions Miliani). C'est toujours la même chanson, celle qui tient en un mot. Cinq lettres, trois consonnes et deux voyelles. Un B, un L, un U, un E et la marque du pluriel au bout. Un mot international, qui désigne à la fois une musique, un état émotionnel et vaguement une couleur. Vous l'avez, là ? Chut… Il ne faut plus l'écrire, ni le nommer, pour ne pas tomber dans ses clichés, ni y emmener les auditeurs du deuxième album de Kepa. Kepa ne veut plus en entendre parler, pourtant il l'a. Dans sa guitare en métal qui, entre de bonnes mains, ressemble à une lampe d'Aladin, à une épée mythologique. Dans son harmonica, cet instrument qui fait trembler le cerveau quand on en joue avec le cœur. Dans sa vie de tous les jours et même de tous les hiers. Au fond de ses tripes, comme un frisson qui remonte jusqu'à ses cordes vocales, un super pouvoir dont il faut aussi avoir peur. Dans ses gênes, son corps endolori, son sang altéré. Dans le titre de ce nouvel album, Divine Morphine. Le premier, sorti il y a trois ans, s'appelait Doctor, Do Something. Un début de concept, toujours la même chanson, comme une affection longue durée. Kepa l'a attrapé comme une maladie. En 2013, Kepa s'appelait Bastien Duverdier et il vivait la vie de skater professionnel, humain augmenté capable de voyager loin et de s'envoler sur une planche à roulettes. Quant tout à coup, il s'est senti devenir vieux. Rongé par une maladie auto-immune qui a bouleversé sa vie, les chiens de l'enfer à ses trousses, qui ne le lâcheront jamais. Il a trouvé une planche de salut, sans roulettes mais avec des cordes, dans la musique, pratiquée sur sa guitare en métal et de préférence sur un ou deux accords qui tournent, à la recherche d'une transe intérieure, d'une vibration musico-thérapeutique, d'un rite auto-chamanique. Bastien est devenu musicien, sortant donc en 2018 Doctor, Do Something, premier album réalisé avec Taylor Kirk du groupe canadien Timber Timbre. L'album a été très bien accueilli, et des centaines de concerts ont fait connaître Kepa, son humour, sa musique et ses jolies chemises.     Mais, malgré tout le bien qu'on a pensé de Doctor, Do Something, on peut l'affirmer sans forfanterie : Divine Morphine est mille fois mieux. Doctor, Do Something était une carte de visite. Divine Morphine est le récit d'une expédition au fond de soi, d'un voyage au bout de l'enfermement. Personne ne t'entendra crier. Il a fait ce disque pour chercher à comprendre, dompter et raconter cette maladie qui l'a chamboulé jusqu'à l'implosion, à l'orée de la folie. "Du plomb dans l'Eldorado", chante-t-il en duo avec Sarah McCoy sur l'incroyable dark-pop song Eldorado, un vrai tube du nouveau monde. Du plomb dans l'Eldorado, c'est un peu ce que tout le monde ressent depuis l'année 2020, non ? Le calvaire des uns est la Covid-19, le sien s'appelle HLA-B27, pour human leucocyte antigen. Personne ne peut le vivre à sa place, mais tout le monde peut ressentir et apprécier comment il s'est soigné avec Divine Morphine. Le premier morceau est un peu son All Aboard (Muddy Waters) à lui. Un solo d'harmonica basse façon train song, qui aurait eu sa place sur Doctor, Do Something, mais qui d'un coup tourbillonne, se dérègle et annonce la suite. Le train vient de dérailler et d'entrer dans une autre dimension, celle du vertige opiacé, de la perte de contrôle, de la musique qui rêve et dérive… Une chanson va sonner comme la bande-son d'un western où Kepa fait un duel avec lui-même (Dog Days). Une autre emmène les vieux Bukka White et Alan Vega danser dans un club de Détroit pendant un tremblement de terre (Wet Dream). Le temps de deux reprises, Kepa s'agenouille sans se prosterner devant des totems intimes : Hard Time Killin Floor Blues de Skip James (avec Rodolphe Burger), et Sodade de Cesaria Evora dans une version hallucinée, où l'on voit l'océan geler autour des îles du Cap-Vert.     Six pieds sous terre reste sous les tropiques le temps d'une murder ballad. La chanson Divine Morphine est presque badine, indolente, ritournelle dans un état second. L'instrumental Messe HLA-B27 montre les progrès guitaristiques fulgurants de Kepa, affranchi des exercices de styles, devenu son propre maître. Sa voix aussi a changé, il la pousse vers la plainte dans des aigus hululants. Il joue différents instruments, des claviers comme des stalactites, la trompette et d'autres choses avec sa bouche, des bruitages d'origine non identifiée. Il est l'homme-orchestre du Titanic, au final seul survivant du naufrage, puis échoué sur une île déserte – le dernier morceau, Merle, ressemble à la prière païenne d'un Robinson en lévitation. L'album est maintenant terminé. Personne n'en sortira indemne. Et tout le monde n'aura qu'une envie : y retourner. Stéphane Deschamps.   Titres interprétés - Divine Morphine, Live RFI - Sodade, extrait de l'album Divine Morphine - Eldorado, Live RFI - Hard Time Killing Floor, extrait de l'album Divine Morphine.   Puis nous recevons Jawhar pour la sortie de l'album Tasweerah (62TV/PIAS).   Tasweerah est le quatrième album du singer / songwriter tunisien Jawhar. Tasweerah veut dire en tunisien à la fois : portrait, image, mais aussi : projection de l'esprit… L'album est une série d'arrêts sur image, de portraits plus ou moins personnels. Les chansons sont, chacune à leur manière, des tentatives vers un portrait universel de l'artiste. Elles questionnent sa place et celle de l'imaginaire dans la société, posent "la création et la quête de la beauté" au centre de l'album. Volontairement brut et sans artifice, Tasweerah nous replonge dans la folk / pop claire-obscure de Jawhar, proclamé dans la catégorie Arabic Dream Pop. Né d'une mère professeure de Littérature arabe, éprise de musique et de poésie, et d'un père qui se consacre au théâtre puis à la politique culturelle, Jawhar grandit dans la banlieue au sud de Tunis, à Radès. Très tôt, il est fasciné par une certaine culture populaire, par la force de ses images et de ses expressions verbales, musicales et gestuelles. Quand il part à l'âge de vingt ans étudier l'anglais à Lille, c'est plutôt la poésie abstraite qui l'attire, celle de William Blake et d'Emily Dickinson… En plus d'un amour grandissant pour un certain Nick Drake qui le liera de manière irrévocable à sa folk impressionniste.     Titres interprétés - Malguit Live RFI - Schizo Hyout, extrait de l'album Tasweerah voir le clip  - Sayyed Ezzin, extrait de l'album Tasweerah - Foug Layyem Live RFI voir le clip.   Son : Fabien Mugneret, Mathias Taylor, Benoît Letirant.

In this episode we invite the great Peter Guralnick — Zooming in from his native Massachusetts — to discuss his "adventures in music and writing"… to quote the subtitle of his wonderful 2020 collection Looking to Get Lost.Peter takes his hosts back to his discovery of Delta blues giants Skip James and Robert Johnson in the early '60s — and to the first pieces he wrote for Paul Williams' Crawdaddy! in 1966. He explains his approach to the masterful profiles he collected in Feel Like Going Home and Lost Highway, and the friendships with Charlie Rich and Bobby "Blue" Bland that resulted from them. Conversation leads from Howlin' Wolf to Solomon Burke and southern soul, and from there to the use of Val Wilmer's remarkable photos in Peter's books.Talk of Memphis and Muscle Shoals prompts Mark to introduce the first of three clips from Barney's 1985 audio interview with Atlantic Records legend Jerry Wexler. Peter reminisces about his relationship with "Wex" (and with Ray Charles), then follows up with riveting recall of Joe Tex and Jerry Lee Lewis. Pieces by Memphis writer Andria Lisle — one of many Guralnick disciples — brings us on to discussion of Bobby Bland and the late Hi Rhythm section drummer Howard Grimes. We also remember the brilliant Betty Davis and Syl ('Is It Because I'm Black?') Johnson.Finally, Mark quotes from newly-added library pieces about John Lee Hooker, Nik Venet, the Nazz and Simon Napier-Bell, while Jasper notes articles about Norah Jones and Robert Glasper. Bringing things full circle, Barney quotes from Peter's friend Bill Millar's tribute to recently-deceased soul specialist Bob Fisher.Many thanks to special guest Peter Guralnick. Looking to Get Lost is published by Little, Brown, and you can visit his website at peterguralnick.com.Peter Guralnick interviewed by Bob Ruggiero and by Maud Barthomier, Sweet Soul Music, Jerry Wexler audio, Andria Lisle on Memphis, Mick Hucknall meets Bobby "Blue" Bland, Hi Rhythm, Betty Davis, Syl Johnson, John Lee Hooker, Nik Venet, The Nazz, CBGBs, Hoagy Carmichael, Simon Napier-Bell, 'River Deep, Mountain High', Stephanie Mills, Norah Jones, Robert Glasper and Bob Fisher.

In this episode we invite the great Peter Guralnick — Zooming in from his native Massachusetts — to discuss his "adventures in music and writing"… to quote the subtitle of his wonderful 2020 collection Looking to Get Lost.Peter takes his hosts back to his discovery of Delta blues giants Skip James and Robert Johnson in the early '60s — and to the first pieces he wrote for Paul Williams' Crawdaddy! in 1966. He explains his approach to the masterful profiles he collected in Feel Like Going Home and Lost Highway, and the friendships with Charlie Rich and Bobby "Blue" Bland that resulted from them. Conversation leads from Howlin' Wolf to Solomon Burke and southern soul, and from there to the use of Val Wilmer's remarkable photos in Peter's books.Talk of Memphis and Muscle Shoals prompts Mark to introduce the first of three clips from Barney's 1985 audio interview with Atlantic Records legend Jerry Wexler. Peter reminisces about his relationship with "Wex" (and with Ray Charles), then follows up with riveting recall of Joe Tex and Jerry Lee Lewis. Pieces by Memphis writer Andria Lisle — one of many Guralnick disciples — brings us on to discussion of Bobby Bland and the late Hi Rhythm section drummer Howard Grimes. We also remember the brilliant Betty Davis and Syl ('Is It Because I'm Black?') Johnson.Finally, Mark quotes from newly-added library pieces about John Lee Hooker, Nik Venet, the Nazz and Simon Napier-Bell, while Jasper notes articles about Norah Jones and Robert Glasper. Bringing things full circle, Barney quotes from Peter's friend Bill Millar's tribute to recently-deceased soul specialist Bob Fisher.Many thanks to special guest Peter Guralnick. Looking to Get Lost is published by Little, Brown, and you can visit his website at peterguralnick.com.Peter Guralnick interviewed by Bob Ruggiero and by Maud Barthomier, Sweet Soul Music, Jerry Wexler audio, Andria Lisle on Memphis, Mick Hucknall meets Bobby "Blue" Bland, Hi Rhythm, Betty Davis, Syl Johnson, John Lee Hooker, Nik Venet, The Nazz, CBGBs, Hoagy Carmichael, Simon Napier-Bell, 'River Deep, Mountain High', Stephanie Mills, Norah Jones, Robert Glasper and Bob Fisher.

SELECCIÓN 2 ENERO 2022 BLUES SYNDICATE 1- BAD NEWS IS COMING – LUTHER ALLISON 2- WORKING MAN – OTIS RUSH 3- MY MY, BYE BYE – MIKE TRASK 4- THINKING BOUT MYSELF – JOSH TESKEY & ASH GRUNWALD 5- HARD TIME BLUES – BIG DADDY WILSON 6- TALKING ABOUT MAE PT.2 – MELVIN TAYLOR & LUCKY PETERSON 7- SESITIVE KIND – JOHN MAYALL 8- I´D RATHER GO BLIND – KOKO TAYLOR 9- OREO COOKIE BLUES – LONNIE MACK 10- WITH MY MAKER I AM ONE – ERIC BIBB 11- LOST & LONESOME – BUFFALO NICHOLS 12- TRAVELLING BACK HOME – JOHNNY SHINES 13- MYSTERY WOMAN – DOUG MACLEOD 14- BLUE RIVER RISING – MICHAEL VAN MERWYK 15- SICK BED BLUES – SKIP JAMES