MUDDY WATERS

Muddy Waters is not just a Chicago bluesman, he is the Chicago Bluesman — he gave the music its shape and style, and th city he worked in gave it the name.

Muddy was born McKinley Morganfleld in Rolling Fork Mississippi on April 4, 1915. That was in the heart of delta country, and delta country was blues country — Muddy heard and saw both Son House and Robert Johnson (two of the finest around) playing nearby.

When Muddy began playing he used harmonica, but switched to guitar when he was 17. He listened to records of people like Blind Lemon Jefferson, Charlie Patton and Blind Boy Fuller. When he began to work on his own, he patterned himself after his favorite, Robert Johnson — and his early work had much of the sweet intensity that Johnson’s did. Both men played slide guitar (tuned to an open chord and fretted with a bottleneck or 'tubing slipped over a finger, producing vocal-like guitar sounds), both had fine, tortured falsetto vocals, and both were capable of some intense imagery in their lyrics. There’s more than a little truth to what Muddy told Pete Welding; “Really, I think I’m closer to Robert than anybody that ever played — at least, all the ones I’ve heard.”

Muddy worked on farms and, on weekends, played juke-joints and picnics with guitarist Scott Bohanna. (See Pete Welding’s liner notes on Chess 2CH-60006). In 1941 he was “discovered” by folklorist Alan Lomax who was making a collecting trip for the Library of Congress. Lomax cut several sides with him, 2 were issued on an L of C archive LP. . .and later .the whole series, which included several tracks with Muddy as part of the Son Simms Four (a country & blues group with guitars, fiddle and mandolin) was released on Testament label.

In 1943 Muddy moved to Chicago, and began working taverns and house parties there.. .but the style of blues then was “sweet” and didn’t have much to do with the feeling and sound of down home. It was 1948 before his first commercial success was released — “Can’t Be Satisfied.” It was pure delta blues with just slide guitar, vocal and standup bass.

The record was a big hit in the newly emerging and rapidly growing R&B field (literally, Blues with Rhythm) — and showed that there was an urban market for the down home sound. Muddy recorded several more solo records, but he was already using a new touch in his club gigs — electricity. Muddy had a four piece band; he played slide and sang, Little Walter (the late great) was on harp, Jimmy Rogers was on second guitar and Leroy Foster was on drums. The sound was funky, loud and full — blues, but blues that stomped. As Muddy later told Welding, “What made our records different — we kept that Mississippi sound, but we didn’t do it exactly like the older fellows. We put the beat with it, put a little drive to it.. .even if it’s the blues, we still had to drive behind it”.

The style caught on fast around Chicago and on records, and many more Chess singles followed. (The first one to appear on Chess was “Rollin Stone”.... the same one that the group named themselves after.) Many of the titles that Muddy put out were later covered by other artists — “Just Make Love To Me” was one,, a current favorite is the Allman Brothers Band’s version of Muddy’s “Trouble No More”.

There were many other classic sides as well, most cut in the 50’s in Chicago. “Rollin & Tumblin’’ (Cream copped from this), “Louisiana Blues,” “Standing Around Crying” (one of the most emotional flat-out, all-time blues ever recorded ... guitar, harp and vocal just wrench your guts), “40 Days and 40 Nights”, “Just To Be With You”, “Got My Mojo Working” (Muddy’s signature tune) and “Honey Bee” are a few personal favorites. These tunes range from simple guitar-harp duets to full band numbers, all are powerful and moving examples of Chicago blues at its peak.

Not only did Muddy write, sing and play guitar, he also trained .and gave exposure to many fine sidemen who later went out on their own. His harp players have included not only Little Walter (who innovated a harp style followed by almost every blues harpist blowing today), but also Junior Wells, Walter Horton and James Cotton. Guitar players have included Buddy Guy and Pat Hare (a little known but fine player who could make it smoke), and don’t forget pianist Otis Spann who was with the group till his death.

As the record market changed, Chess went thru some strange attempts to broaden Muddy’s appeal; there were abortive “folk,” “brass” and even “psychedelic” albums — which put the man and his music thru some bad times. . .1 don’t know if his appeal was broadened much, but I know old fans winced.

A few years ago Muddy was involved in a serious car crash which laid him up a long time, but he came back strong as ever. Chess, now under new management, seems to be showing a lot more sense, and many of his older singles have been re-released on LP. (I especially recommend McKinley Morganfleld a.k.a. Muddy Waters, a double set which included much of the best of the early sides as well as fine full-bank recordings, all good blues.) And recent recordings have showcased the man at what he does best — blow good solid Chicago Blues. (See Live at Mr. Kellys.)

In the nearly 24 years that Muddy has been recording and touring, he’s played in clubs, dances, blues and rock festivals around the world — he’s appeared at Newport, Carnegie Hall, on network TV and on record as honored guest of younger musicians whose careers he inspired (see Fathers & Sons with Paul Butterfield, Mike Bloomfield and Buddy Miles). He’s the co-subject of Bossmen, a book by Bill Rooney, and his old Chess records are collectors items.

But more important, here’s a man who is not only an innovator and creator, he’s a working musician who still is glad to get a chance to play what he knows and feels. Muddy is one of the last survivors of a generation of bluesmen that linked the country to the city, that merged down-home soul with sidewalk flash, and brought electricity to poetry.

Call him an artist, and dig the art in his music — but let it move you too ... you can shake ass to it and get off behind it. And for chrissakes let him know how much you dig it now — while he’s here to enjoy it ... posthumous fame is only good for whoever holds the copyrights.

As long as Muddy’s alive and kicking, so will the blues from down-home be. Dig him while he’s here — he’s one of the last giants.