BLUES AND JAZZ

BLUES AND JAZZ

The following pages comprise a special Blues and Jazz Supplement to CREEM. The articles include biographies, cameos and critical analysis of some of the finest blues and jazzmen of our time. Many of the pieces have been excerpted from the program for the Ann Arbor Blues and Jazz Festival 1972, which CREEM was fortunate enough to have assembled for the promoters.

The Supplement is not designed to be definitive. That is a scholarly task designed for books and special publications. Rather, for the novice, it is designed to function as an overview, an introduction to some of the great music makers of the current day. For the affiei6nddp, we hope the Bliies and Jazz Supplement will in some way be a eoll$etp0 if a memento of the state of the music in 1972.

In aAdMm to the dedication of the festival to Son Home and Mississippi Fred McDowell, with which we wholeheartedly tfhnturtf'We’d like to add a Mef thanki of out-own to some ofthe unheralded champions of hfricsam! jut? music: the unle pendent record labels Small, iurgly umlcr-capitalizeil Wtm ft) spreading the worn and jazz to an erer-lienee, out eonseioiisneis (nut to mention eiUr out them. (Thanks air also in order to ifn following: The Attn Arbor Wins and Festival;: 19 Ruin how Muhr

BLUES 1972

Good evening blues,

blues how do you do?

I did pretty good in the 50’s,

but now it’s 72 ...

1972 and lots of people think that blues is dying of old age and respectability. Many of the old masters have died (Mississippi Fred McDowell for one), and those who are left often have only part of their original power ... and who’s gonna take their place?

Eric Clapton? Alvin Lee? Mark Farner? Alice Cooper? Nope ... Time passes and all things change — the great melting pot of America assimilates another form into its homogenizing blender, and how long before B.B. King is doing gasoline commercials? (And why shouldn’t he? He’s paid his dues, right?)

But what happened to blues?

Who ate it?

Was it English rockers with sincere respect and occasional outright thievery? Was it young white fans who were down so low cause their local pizza parlor wouldn’t serve them if they didn’t have a shirt on? (Dis - crim - i - nation... ) Was it working in Las Vegas where, if Jesus came back, he might get two weeks in the big room at one of the more mod casinos? Was it record companies who fadize and hustleize and hypeize everything into profit-and-loss chucks of plastic melba toast? Was it the critics and anthologizers who inspected, disected and filleted it neatly into a medium size volume?

Or did it just change shirts and move into another room while the bullshit’s going down in the parlor? Have you seen the blues walking like a man lately? When’s the last time you went down to your corner bar to hear Elmore James?

Does the blues grab your guts and walk across your head like a snowstorm in August? Or does it sit neatly in your record collection amongst the ragas and bluegrass, waiting on its turn-table time? How does it fit into your life, and what’s it mean to you?

You ever been in a juke-joint? (Me neither, but I was trapped in a juke box for three days one night.) Ever heard that pea-vine when she moaned? Ever worked five long years for one woman, trucking steel like a slave? Were you born in Chicago? Do you wish you were/weren’t?

Is blues: a) an art form, b) a vital expression of the needs and concerns of its audience, c) a good warm-up act for Led Zeppelin?

Was. Hank Williams a blues singer? How about Percy Mayfield? Have you done the popcorn lately? Do you sing along on Chuck Berry’s “My Ding-A-Ling”? (If so, which part?) Do you have more Howling Wolf or Allman Brothers albums? Did you go see The Girl Can 7 Help It for Gene Vincent or Little Richard? (Or Javjie Mansfield?)

Does the blues fall down like nail where you live? Would you rather be a wah-wah pedal or a fuzz-tone box? (I’d like to be a “Mad Dog” switch on a Burns guitar myself.) Would you rather hear the Stones or Slim Harpo do “King Bee”? Is Mike Bloomfield better than B.B. King? How about Albert King? How about Henry the Eighth?

Is three o’clock in the morning a special point in the face of time for you? Are you a crawling ldngsnake? Have you seen Jimmy Reed lately? Where’s the danger zone? Is Paul Butterfield a tunafish sandwich? Can you mellow down easy? Or shake your money maker?

Have you ever been collected for the Library of Congress? Did anybody ever give you a pint of whiskey, $20 and steal all your songs? If you had a chance to play Carnegie Hall or Mattie’s Tavern, which one would vou take?

Did Reverend Robert Wilkins ever get all his royalties for “Prodigal Son?” How about Sonny Boy Williamson’s share of Led Zep’s “Bring It On Home?”

Is the blues alive? Is it a memory? Is it now or yesterday? What about Johnny Winter? What about Larry Johnson? Is tjie blues an aching old hard luck disease?

When your babe’s hot, is there any cooling? Have you got the key to the highway? Are you a gangster of love? Would you rather spend an hour with Otis Rush or Keith Richard? If the river was whiskey and you a diving duck, would you?

Are you a back door man? Or a tit man? When’s the last time you sank into a crossroads? Do you like grits and greens better than McDonalds? Is there a hell-hound on your trail? Is the blues in the air or the spirit? Can you touch them?

Can they touch you?

(This was suppposed to be an article on the state of blues today - but it seems all I can do is ask myself questions. Maybe you know some answers... )

Tony Glover