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OTIS RUSH

The story of Otis Rush has been one of promise and frustration, both for Otis and his fans.

December 15, 1972
Jim O’Neal

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The story of Otis Rush has been one of promise and frustration, both for Otis and his fans. Sixteen years ago the promise was evident to Cobra Records’ A&R man Willie Dixon when he heard 22-year-old Otis at the 708 Club on Chicago’s 47th Street. Dixon rehearsed Otis with his band, gave him a few songs, and recorded the outstanding young singer-guitarist on Eli Toscano’s struggling new label. Otis’ first release, “I Can’t Quit You Baby,” was a killer. Telephone callers jammed the WOPA switchboard when DJ Big Bill Hill (who, incidentally, emceed the 1969 Ann Arbor Blues Festival) aired the record, and the astonished Hill informed Dixon that Cobra Records had a new blues star in Otis Rush. Things continued to look promising for Otis throughout his stay with Cobra — he toured the country, made a name for himself, and produced some of the most beautiful blues records of the postwar period. “My Love Will Never Die,” “All Your Love,” “Double Trouble” and “Keep On Loving Me Baby” still rank as blues classics. Even with the demise of Cobra around 1960, Otis still had much to look forward to. He signed with Chess, the top blues label in Chicago.

But, looking back, Otis sighs, “That was a bad day.” Chess only issued two 45s by Otis, and he moved on to Duke Records — “That was another sad day.” The Houston-based label, perhaps sensing some competition for its own established blues roster, signed Otis and then effectively put him out of circulation. Otis’ five year contract with Duke yielded only one single.

Frustration, though not total despair, has continued to follow Otis. He was satisfied neither with a hurriedly produced Vanguard session in 1966 nor an overproduced debut LP on Cotillion. More recently he recorded for Capitol, but this album remains unissued after more than a year. His fans, too, have been frustrated. Only occasional cuts from his later recordings compared favorably with the Cobra sides; and even these fine records pale when matched against Otis’ often brilliant live performances. It has been clear to a number of observers that somebody just might produce the world’s greatest modern blues album simply by recording Otis Rush live.

Otis has kept at it, though, and the promise is still there. Though he has for the most part continued to work in Chicago, he did earn a tour of Europe on the 1966 American Folk Blues Festival (where he recorded a few nice sides, issued on the German Amiga and English Fontana labels). He has played many college concerts and festivals, and when in Chicago, now spends most of his time performing for appreciative young audiences on the North Side, away from the rough 9 p.m. — 4 a.m. grind in the funkier taverns. Many bluesmen are at their best in such after-hours joints, but Otis says he’s had it with those places. “I haven’t played for a black club in two years almost,” he says. “I’ve seen too much violence, too many people get killed.” Fortunately, Otis can summon his best efforts even when confronted with 10,000 new faces at a festival. Relying only on his music, not on crowdpleasing acrobatics or jive, Otis was an obvious standout at both the ‘69 and ’70 Ann Arbor festivals, and this year should be no exception.