That Time Bluesman Robert Johnson Played Carnegie Hall. Wait, What?

Art by Gary Kelley

In November 1936, in San Antonio Texas, traveling Mississippi Delta bluesman Robert Johnson entered the Gunter Hotel where a makeshift recording studio lay in wait. Johnson, who was well known up and down the Mississippi Delta, had only the slightest public existence beyond the backwood barrooms, juke joints, cotton fields, dirt roads, and sharecropping plantations. Johnson, a dark slender man, dressed in black slacks held up by dark suspenders that wrapped around his shoulders and white oxford shirt, cautiously entered the hotel “studio.” His look was refined by a well worn, short-brimmed black hat, and stiff-soled Sunday best shoes. He paced the sparse makeshift studio, finding only a chair, which sat adjacent to a microphone attached to the top of a mic stand in the middle of what was once was a hotel bedroom. Johnson sat, pulled his guitar to his lap, which he had been holding under his arm for most of the day, and began to quietly hum and tune his instrument. The studio where Johnson sat adjoined another room, which was filled with recording equipment. In this room, sound engineers Vinnie and Ralph plugged microphone cables and turned knobs. Heading up this entire operation was Don Law, a British salesman for the American Record Corporation who was also the talent scout manager and producer for their small music recording outfit Vacalion. Vinnie and Ralph were set. Don moved to the doorway, which separated the rooms and asked Johnson if he was ready to record. Johnson, saying nothing, stood up, grabbed the microphone stand, and placed it in the corner of the room. He then lifted and spun the chair around so it faced the stand in the corner. Johnson sat again, facing the corner, with his back toward Don, Vinnie, and Ralph. Don closed the door, but could still see Johnson through its glass window. He motioned to Vinnie and Ralph to begin recording. Johnson tapped his Sunday’s best in time, strummed his guitar, and began to sing the blues. This is the true account of the recording session that captured the sound of the greatest blues artist on earth.

Most likely born in the small town of Hazelhurst, Mississippi on May 8th, 1911, Johnson was the illegitimate and 11th child born to Julia Noah. As a child, he learned to play harmonica before moving on to the guitar. Johnson followed and prodded older musicians around town to hone his skills on the guitar. By the spring of 1931, Johnson, 20, was widely known as a wayfaring musician, who had been married twice, divorced once, buried a child, and ultimately disappeared from the Delta area and the music scene. In just a few short months upon returning to the Delta, everyone realized Johnson had changed. He evolved from a run of the mill musician to a remarkable virtuosic blues artist. He exhibited exceptional skill in playing the guitar. The blues, which flowed from him, was matchless. In time, a rumor sprang forth that Johnson surely made a deal with the devil to achieve such a state of mastery in such a short amount of time.

Art by Gary Kelley

Johnson displayed his superior command of the genre as he traveled throughout the Delta wowing audiences at every venue. Eventually, Johnson’s blues caught the ear of traveling record salesman Ernie Oertle, a bonafide Delta blues music fan. He approached Johnson to suggest he record with a fellow salesman and friend Don Law. Johnson agreed and the resulting recording sessions in both San Antonio and later in Dallas yielded twenty-nine iconic blues songs—these are the only known songs Johnson recorded in his career. Robert Johnson’s records were not heard by many and thus not very popular. Amid an era of swing bands and jazz groups, Delta blues was not highly sought after in the mainstream. It was a specific genre with a specific audience who foraged for its unique sound.

A year and a half after Johnson’s session with Law, his music crossed the path of Columbia Records talent scout John Hammond, Jr. Hammond who by the mid-’30s had discovered musical luminaries such as Billie Holiday and Count Basie to name a few. He would go on to discover more great artists, like Aretha Franklin and Bob Dylan. Once Hammond heard Johnson’s songs he knew what he was hearing was something special. Hammond who regularly created musical showcases and concerts to introduce up and coming artists planned, in early August of 1938, an ultimate concert to introduce the stiff collar folk to Black roots music. His concert, which he called From Spirituals to Swing, was to be presented at Carnegie Hall on December 23. Hammond wanted to tell the story of Black music from its beginnings to the current musical phenomena of swing. He assembled an assortment of artists to achieve his goal. A few artists scheduled to appear in concert were The Count Basie Orchestra, Albert Ammons, Joe Turner with Pete Johnson, Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Jimmy Rushing, The Golden Gate Quartet, and . . . Robert Johnson. Without acquiring a confirmation by Johnson, Hammond placed him on the bill as one of the artists to appear on the advertising for the December concert. Hammond searched for more music and the artist himself, however neither were to be found. While planning the concert, Hammond was able to make contact with Ernie Oertle, who found Johnson in the back juke joints of the Delta. He made an urgent request to find and bring Johnson to New York City. Oertle searched for Johnson throughout the Delta. Shortly thereafter, word reached Oertle that Robert Johnson, the blues prodigy had died on August 16. He was 27!

Tales of Robert Johnson’s demise are legendary. Rumors flourished in the years following his death. They ranged from as mundane as he drank bad moonshine, he had the flu, to more nefarious activities such as he was poisoned by his lover, poisoned by the husband of his lover, stabbed by his lover, possessed by spirits and died howling at the moon, and some claimed to have seen him yanked out of a club by the devil himself and dragged to the crossroads to settle his debt. Regardless of how Johnson died, his being dead posed a problem for Hammond’s concert.

From Spirituals to Swing. Johnson’s Name appears on the bill.

Hammond filled Johnson’s vacant spot with fellow Delta blues guitarist and singer Big Bill Broonzy. No changes were made to the advertising bill. Robert Johnson’s name continued to appear. On the evening of December 23, 1938, John Hammond’s concert From Spirituals to Swing at Carnegie Hall was sold out. Upper crust society in black tie showed up to bathe themselves in Black roots music.

The lights dimmed, the crowd hushed, and a spotlight found Hammond approaching a microphone on the stage. He greeted and thanked the crowd and rattled on about the story of black music and the artists he assembled to tell its tale. He then eagerly introduced them to the greatest blues musician they never heard. Quickly describing Johnson as a musical genius and the very progenitor of Delta blues he then ended his description with a few of the swirling rumors of his death— alcohol, women, devil, and all. He then happily proclaimed regardless of his death, Robert Johnson will grace the stage of Carnegie Hall tonight. Hammond motioned for two stagehands who quickly rolled out a record player then set up a microphone just inches away from the player’s speaker. He set the record in place, faced the audience, and simply stated, “Here’s Robert Johnson!” Robert Johnson’s voice and guitar filled the space of Carnegie Hall. Hammond played one song (Preachin’ Blues: Up Jumped the Devil) and then another (Walkin’ Blues). Johnson’s seldom-heard music was front and center in the most well-known venue in America. The black-tie and white faced audience erupted in applause after Johnson’s post mortem virtual performance. Hammond proudly applauded as well. Johnson had just made his debut at Carnegie Hall.  

Art by Gary Kelley

That evening, on stage at Carnegie Hall, the music of Robert Johnson was elevated out of the backwoods, juke joints, dirt roads, and sharecropper plantations of the Delta. The same can be said about Robert Johnson the person. He was elevated from the Delta carrying a string of stories about his unexplained finesse of the blues, as well as the gripping and daunting tale(s) of the ending moments of his life. Although not supremely popular after Carnegie Hall, Johnson and his music began to slowly grow to exist far beyond the Delta. In time blues connoisseurs began searching for his 29 songs. In amazement, artists began playing his music. The impossibleness of his music is in constant discussion. Johnson and his music today inform artists on how to make it to the stage of Carnegie Hall which may or may not include a deal with the devil.

Illustrations by Gary Kelley are found in J. Patrick Lewis’s book Black Cat Bone: The Life of Blues Legend Robert Johnson

Your Sunday iPod Add: Leela James is giving it to you!

Artist: Leela JamesWelcome to your iPod add.

Ever since I first heard artist, singer, songwriter, and soon to be reality T.V. star Leela James belt out a song I was hooked. James’ voice oozed a soulful and funky consistency that reminded me of more than a few of the best soul singers some decades ago. Her raw classic voice, when she first arrived on the music scene, was a welcome sound to my ears in 2005. Her first album A Change is Gonna Come was her own personal statement that her voice and her style of music (classic soul) was relevant and certainly need amid the pop music muck. In short, James was about the work of regenerating and maintaining classic American soul.

A few weeks ago, after reading one of my posts, a friend of mine (A.K.A. my soul brotha from anotha motha like no otha) asked me if I listened to Leela James as her music is a new discovery for him. I proclaimed in the affirmative and was immediately flooded with the memory of her music. Of course I binged on her music for the next few days.

Listening to James I was reminded of her determination to preserve soul music. She sings with a feeling and sincerity and a mission to make good music. Leela james 2She carries with her the vocal and attitudinal influence of luminaries such as Gladys Knight, Chaka Khan, Aretha Franklin, and Mavis Staples to contemporary artists such as Jill Scott, Ledisi, Musiq, and Anthony Hamilton. James’ mission can be heard on all her albums from A Change is Gonna Come (her statement piece) to Let’s Do It Again (2009) (a celebration of soul and a little funk music of the 70s), to My Soul (2010) (her highest charting album), to finally Loving You More . . . In The Spirit of Etta James (2012) (which she dedicated to the memory of Etta James and her music).

Today Leela James is hard at work recording good music. At the moment James is working on a new album and has recently released a duet with fellow soul artist Anthony Hamilton called “Say That” and “Fall For You”-a nice soulful ballad that trumps anything you heard on the radio lately. [Listen Below]

Do yourself a favor and add Leela James to your iPod and binge on some excellent heartfelt soul . . . you will thank me later!

http://vimeo.com/88680000

Soul and The Business of Music

So, I’m still reeling from the comments made a few weeks ago by Terius Youngdell Nash a.k.a. The Dream when he said, “Blacks can’t do soul records anymore.”  Maybe reeling is too strong of a word and over emphasizes my response to what he said. Let’s just say his statement has kept me thinking about the state of Black music and the music industry for quite a few days now.  My prolonged thinking about his statement is not predicated on if what he said may or may not be true but rather what I hear on the radio in terms of soul music.  I don’t hear it!  You see, for some time, I’ve heard people say that Black music is changing–artists don’t sing like they used to and the music lacks a certain dimension.  The sound that was once front and center in a soul song has now paled in comparison to what was once heard on the radio or is simply missing altogether (think of the vocals and music of Al Greene, Marvin Gaye, Teddy Pendergrass, Aretha Franklin, Patti Labelle, and Chaka Kahn).  This is indeed what I hear from people of a “certain age,” like myself, who have had the opportunity to witness the evolution of music over the past few decades.  From what I hear on the radio Blacks in fact don’t make soul music anymore.

So, I was thinking, “why is this?” and  “why don’t I hear Blacks singing soul music on the radio anymore?  Something has changed.  Is it that Blacks can’t sing with a soul sensibility anymore?  Let me be clear, when I say soul, I’m speaking of a voice, which possesses the ability to grab your attention and drag you through emotional highs and lows weather you want to or not.

Chaka singing soul

I’m speaking of the kind of voice that contains enough power to fill almost any room without being mic’d and can navigate the chordal dynamics of a live band without getting lost in the sonic and melodic interplay of the instruments.  Furthermore, someone who has a bit of musical acuity must wield this voice.  The person wielding this voice can and will stop anyone in their tracks.  It is hard to ignore.

But wait, surprisingly, this voice does in fact exist.  It can be heard in the small clubs, coffee shops, backrooms, the parking lot of churches, rented halls, weddings ceremonies, funerals, and talent contests from New York, Atlanta, to Austin, and Los Angeles.

Marvin Gaye (David Corio/Michael Ochs Archives)

They are just not heard on the radio.  Why not?  The music industry has changed! There has been a disturbance in the force!  I feel record companies have evolved from small enterprises led by individuals who had real interest in music and music culture to large companies run by executives hell-bent on the promotion and sale of a product with huge profits in mind.  At one time, small enterprising leaders were more often than not willing to take a chance on artists and their artistry.  They recognized “talent” and the importance of developing that talent as well as understood the value of uniqueness.  Today, record companies employ executives who are imbued with a business sense and have no real ground level connection to music and its culture.  They do not take chances; it’s not good business sense.  Today’s record company executive is simply about the product and the bottom line.  A question like “Does investing in this individual, group, or band make fiscal sense given our financial outlook and projections this quarter?” is what ultimately drives today’s record company.  Don’t get me wrong, I know the small record enterprises run by individuals with a connection to the music had a bottom line as well.  They too wanted to make a profit.  However, the drive for a profit did not diminish or compromise the integrity of the music, in fact, these individuals wanted to capture the essence of the music and keep theirs and the music’s integrity intact (think Stax, 50s and 60s Atlantic records and Motown).  Being true to the music and letting the artist explore, expand, and flourish in their musical endeavors made great radio several decades ago.

Moreover, record companies are money-making entities refined and designed to profit and are no longer in the business of developing or showcasing soul music and its culture.  For the large music companies (Universal Music Group, Sony/BMG Music Group, Warner Music Group, and EMI) the music and the artists are strictly a product to be sold.  The ear for soul music no longer holds capital within the large companies.  Record companies function in such a way as to make a quick return on their investments.  Taking time to develop an artist is a no go–artists’ music must be immediately viable.  In order to do this, record companies must continuously seek out the next popular “sensation” to market and sell, which by its very design the product tends to be disposable.  As a result, speaking for myself, in terms of soul music, when I listen to the radio I am subjected to less than mediocre efforts.  Gone are the intelligent soulful hyperboles and any decent poetic aesthetic imbedded in lyrics.  Ultimately, to a certain extent, record company executives become the final arbiter of musical taste of an entire population.  Are you serious?!!!!

In the end, can Blacks do soul records?  Yes, they can.  They can record songs thick with cultural history individual talent and musical skill that will sit you down.  But these recordings will not be found on the radio.  Record companies neither have the ear nor the financial drive for Black soul music. That’s okay, the Dream and I can listen to Internet radio!