Black History Is Roots Music History

To celebrate Black History Month, we’re taking a moment to revisit pieces that celebrated the creativity, music, and identities of artists of color over the past year.

Plenty of wisdom has been handed down in our Counsel of Elders features:

Jimmy Carter of the Blind Boys of Alabama spoke of faith and singing about reaching the end of the journey: “People ask me, ‘You’ve been doing this for almost seven decades, what keeps you going?’ I tell them, ‘When you love what you do — and we love what we’re doing — that keeps you motivated.’”

Soul singer Lee Fields had advice for staying positive without losing one’s realism: “I do believe that love is out there today, true genuine love, and I think a person should always keep that in mind. Stay positive.”

Then there’s 75 year-old singer and hit songwriter Don Bryant who has only just released his second album, so he knows a thing or two about perseverance and second chances.

Two of the past 12 months have been anchored by roots music legends:

Blues super-duo Keb’ Mo’ and Taj Mahal released TajMo, so we marked the occasion by designating Keb’ our Artist of the Month for May. The album just won a (well-deserved) Grammy.

Country hit-maker Charley Pride held down the Artist of the Month slot in September, when we pointed out that, even now, in his 80s, he is unafraid to shake things up.

Then, there are the cover stories:

With her record, The Order of Time, Valerie June defies labels, spanning blues, bluegrass, soul, folk, rock, and more, gathering pieces from each to build a kaleidoscope that showcases the long undercurrent of history running through each.

Trombone Shorty is intent on keeping the culture and music of New Orleans alive, but without redundancy: “When I grew up, I was listening to brass bands and I was listening to New Orleans hip-hop, so that is a part of my culture. I started, then, playing my horn to hip-hop beats and rock beats. It’s part of knowing where you come from, but trying to move the music forward.”

Black Joe Lewis doesn’t revive rock ‘n’ roll, he just shows the world it’s still alive — and, as a classic form of American music, it should have a seat at the Americana table, too.

For Chastity Brown, making music is like a therapy session: “The music reflected itself back to me and, in one part, let me know I was quite broken, and in another part of [Silhouette of Sirens], let me know I wasn’t that way anymore.”

The historical context of Black identities in roots music is best supplied by, well … Black identities in roots music.

New York-based Black string band the Ebony Hillbillies expertly laid out the diverse history of bluegrass and old-time music in a Shout & Shine interview.

Scholars Doug Seroff and Lynn Abbott have worked together for nearly 40 years researching the history of African-American music in jubilee, quartet, vaudeville, ragtime, and early blues music.

We dove into the history of the Georgia Sea Island Singers, who have featured a rotating cast over the years and continue to share their rich history of West African descent, with performances at presidential inaugurations and other public ceremonies.

By working through a deep-rooted musical heritage, Rev. Osagyefo Uhuru Sekou uses the language of the past to inform the present, serving up a direct response to the current political climate.

In her album, Freedom Highway, Rhiannon Giddens examined the cyclical struggles of the victims of injustice that suffer throughout history … slaves, children, Black men, and more. We spoke to her about it.

Lesbian, Americana artist Crys Matthews is a native of the South and the daughter of a preacher. She understands and appreciates the myriad ways her background informs her ability to help others empathize with those with whom they might assume they have nothing in common.

Let’s not forget about all of the incredible music:

Birds of Chicago sang one of our favorite songs for a Sitch Session.

Ben Hunter & Joe Seamons released A Black & Tan Ball with Phil Wiggins and built the album on friendship, their commitment to celebrating the wide range of American styles available to any songster, and the joy of sharing those musical styles across generations.

Benjamin Booker’s “Truth Is Heavy” was featured as a Song of the Week this past June.

And Rhiannon Giddens had a Song of the Week, too.

One of our new favorites, Sunny War, sings to her younger self — and all young children today — about the challenges of life.

Guitarist Hubby Jenkins can do more with just his voice and guitar than some folks do with an entire band.

We hosted a number of wonderful artists on Hangin’ & Sangin‘, as well:

Johnnyswim had us laughing for the whole half-hour … and invited us over for dinner, to boot!

The aforementioned Keb’ Mo’ turned on the charm in a big, big way.

Acoustic soul singer Jonny P touched on the importance of positive representation.

Hopping over from the UK, Yola Carter blew our minds with her incredible voice and spirit.

During AmericanaFest, Leyla McCalla talked us through the history of Haitian-Americans.

And last but not least, there have been several stellar Mixtapes, too:

Singer Bette Smith remembers her big brother and his love of soul music with this playlist.

Contemporary blues guitarist Ruthie Foster gave us an introduction to the blues with a dozen foundational tracks upon which a blues novice might begin to build their love of the form.

Our friends at the Music Maker Relief Foundation are working hard to preserve traditional, vernacular American music, especially traditional blues.

Best of: Hangin’ & Sangin’ 2017

The best part of my job is, without question, Hangin’ & Sangin‘ every Friday at Hillbilly Central. Not only do I get to talk with and listen to some of my absolute favorite artists, but I also get some quality time with my own personal Gelman (aka Justin Hiltner, BGS’s social media director). We keep it loose and fun while still digging into some deep, interesting topics. Because of that, inevitably, after the show, the artist says, in a pleasantly surprised tone, “Wow. That was great! It didn’t hurt at all. Thank you!” I don’t know what other interviewers are doing — or not doing — but we’re sure thrilled and touched by that compliment. Every time.

To close out 2017, I’ve pulled together a batch of the best moments from throughout the year. Some happened on camera, some off, but each made our little show that much more special — as did each of you for tuning in. Thanks for supporting us!

Watch all the episodes on YouTube, or download and subscribe to the Hangin’ & Sangin’ podcast and other BGS programs every week via iTunes, Podbean, or your favorite podcast platform.

ANNOUNCING: 2018 Roots Music Grammy Nominations

Best Contemporary Instrumental Album

What If — The Jerry Douglas Band

Spirit —  Alex Han

Mount Royal — Julian Lage & Chris Eldridge

Prototype — Jeff Lorber Fusion

Bad Hombre — Antonio Sanchez

Best American Roots Performance

“Killer Diller Blues” — Alabama Shakes

“Let My Mother Live” — Blind Boys of Alabama

“Arkansas Farmboy ” — Glen Campbell

“Steer Your Way” — Leonard Cohen

“I Never Cared for You” —  Alison Krauss

Best American Roots Song

“Cumberland Gap” — David Rawlings; David Rawlings & Gillian Welch, songwriters

“I Wish You Well” —  The Mavericks; Raul Malo & Alan Miller, songwriters

“If We Were Vampires” — Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit; Jason Isbell, songwriter

“It Ain’t Over Yet” — Rodney Crowell featuring Rosanne Cash & John Paul White; Rodney Crowell, songwriter

“My Only True Friend” — Gregg Allman; Gregg Allman & Scott Sharrard, songwriters

Best Americana Album

Southern Blood — Gregg Allman

Shine on Rainy Day —  Brent Cobb

Beast EpicIron & Wine

The Nashville Sound — Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit

Brand New Day — The Mavericks

Best Bluegrass Album

Fiddler’s DreamMichael Cleveland

Laws of Gravity — The Infamous Stringdusters

OriginalBobby Osborne

Universal Favorite — Noam Pikelny

All the Rage: In Concert Volume One [Live] — Rhonda Vincent and the Rage

Best Traditional Blues Album

Migration Blues — Eric Bibb

Elvin Bishop’s Big Fun Trio —  Elvin Bishop’s Big Fun Trio

Roll and Tumble — R.L. Boyce

Sonny & Brownie’s Last Train — Guy Davis & Fabrizio Poggi

Blue & Lonesome — The Rolling Stones

Best Contemporary Blues Album

Robert Cray & Hi Rhythm — Robert Cray & Hi Rhythm

Recorded Live in Lafayette — Sonny Landreth

TajMoTaj Mahal & Keb’ Mo’

Got Soul — Robert Randolph & The Family Band

Live from the Fox Oakland — Tedeschi Trucks Band

Best Folk Album

Mental IllnessAimee Mann

Semper Femina — Laura Marling

The Queen of HeartsOffa Rex

You Don’t Own Me AnymoreThe Secret Sisters

The Laughing Apple — Yusuf / Cat Stevens

Best Regional Roots Music Album

Top of the Mountain — Dwayne Dopsie and the Zydeco Hellraisers

Ho’okena 3.0 — Ho’okena

Kalenda —  Lost Bayou Ramblers

Miyo Kekisepa, Make a Stand [Live] —  Northern Cree

Pua Kiele — Josh Tatofi

Counsel of Elders: Robert Cray on Speaking from the Soul

Robert Cray’s voice betrays a sense of electrified giddiness as he talks about recording with Hi Rhythm, the house band from famed Memphis label Hi Records that joined him on his latest project, Robert Cray & Hi Rhythm. For a musician who has performed with Eric Clapton, John Lee Hooker, and Stevie Ray Vaughan, it seems like “star struck” wouldn’t be an issue, but to hear Cray tell it, his latest LP was an experience unto itself. Whether describing listening to organist Charles Hodges replicate the “wah-wah” sound he perfected for Al Green, or standing in Royal Studies amidst all that history, or tapping into the groove that almost magically envelopes Memphis, there’s an expansive warmth — almost a sense of awe — that comes across as he talks about working with the infamous studio band. To say it was a “once in a lifetime” moment underscores the project’s timing, since he will receive the Lifetime Achievement Award for Performance from the Americana Music Association this year while Hi Rhythm will be honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award for Instrumentalist.

Although Cray is known for his emotive blues licks, he’s been exploring his soul influences in recent years. Robert Cray & Hi Rhythm continues what he began in 2014 with In My Soul (recorded with the Robert Cray Band). The latter charted his appreciation for the classic soul coming out of labels like Stax and Chess, and studios like Muscle Shoals; the former leans into the nexus of blues, soul, and even funk in order to explore where his guitar can guide those sounds. Besides covering Tony Joe White’s “Aspen, Colorado” and “Don’t Steal My Love,” Cray penned several new songs for the project, including the frank but tender “The Way We Are” and the politically charged “Just How Low.” Though he doesn’t point specific fingers with the latter, the opening bars of “Hail to the Chief” and the chorus make clear his message: “One never knows just how low someone might go.” He doesn’t shy away from speaking his mind about the current president, even if he knows how that’s gone for musicians in the past. An earnest and open songwriter, Cray’s partnership with Hi Rhythm continues the genre’s tradition of embedding necessary messages within its enchanting grooves and, in turn, reveals yet another piece of his soul.

Did you ever think, when you first started out, that you had 20 albums in you?

No, I didn’t go that far. All I knew was I wanted to play music. Everybody, as a youngster playing music, wants to make a record, but you never see any further past a first record.

What’s it like on the other end of that perspective now?

Well, the whole thing still remains a lot of fun. I enjoy doing what we do, and with all the records under our belts … we’re making a living at it and we’re still here.

This latest project recorded with the Hi Records house band is so special. Soul music, and especially the kind of soul music that label released, has long featured a potent message. How have you seen it shift or develop since the ‘60s and ‘70s?

It’s kinda hard to describe. Working with those guys from Hi Records, it’s been instilled in them. I’ve been a big fan of their music for the longest time. Everybody has more music appreciation even outside what they do, and then when you put the right people together — which was the case when Steve [Jordan] put us together — we were able to do what we love. It was pretty cool.

One of the songs, in particular — “Just How Low” — sounds as though you’re addressing Trump, even though you never mention his name. At the very least, you’re addressing this kind of divisive mentality that has once again become so prominent. Why did you want to take aim at that specifically?

Just the tone of everything that’s going on these days. It’s a dramatic shift from where we once were and with President Obama being in office. We haven’t had anybody that’s so out in the open with his disdain for government, different people, different cultures, all of that. We spend a lot of time on the road, trying to keep up with what’s going on, and we see how it is for people outside of our country, and how they feel about it, as well. So, yeah, it was just a natural thing. This wasn’t the first time that we’ve addressed political issues. We’ve gone back to even when the Iraq War started and talked about that on both sides of the issue, and then on behalf of military personnel.

It’s interesting that you choose this way to approach it, though. Because, in recent years, between William Bell and Don Bryant, the message they’re sharing about changing times advocates for peace. I love that music — don’t get me wrong — but I like that you take a more stringent tone.

Right. Well, my only issue with this song is, every day there’s something new. I gotta keep writing verses to this song. People are on the fence about going the way we went only because of what happened to Dixie Chicks years ago, and everybody is worried about their fan base. They just want to stay in line, but, you know, if you don’t address the issue, it doesn’t get addressed.

I can see why Steve Jordan has described you as an “honest soul” because it is a bit of a risk to come out and so blatantly share a specific perspective that might scare away portions of your fan base.

Well, thank you, Steve. But you have to, you just have to. There’s no dancing.

I appreciate that, as a listener. Some people talk about the special feeling Muscle Shoals and Memphis exude. Where do you think that special energy comes from?

I’d like to consider Memphis the hub of American music. When you think about rock ‘n’ roll, the blues, it’s such a big part. We have different areas, too: You’ve got country coming out of Nashville, and the jazz that came out of New Orleans. But I think, overall, Memphis is the hub. Without the blues, you wouldn’t have rock ‘n’ roll. It’s just there.

So how did you tap into it for this session?

I didn’t need any coaxing. I met some of the guys from Hi Rhythm in the past just briefly, but have always had a love for the music. I had the opportunity to work with Steve — this being our fifth project. Steve is the supreme organizer, and he has a way of making everyone feel really comfortable in the studio. When we work with Steve, one of the first things we do is, he gets behind the drum kit and just starts playing. No song. Everybody’s got their instrument and we’re just playing. And that groove will go on 20-25 minutes, until everybody feels really good. Just to be creative, just to make things happen. Then he goes, “Let’s do one of these tunes,” so we’ll start playing one of the tunes, and we’ll do the same thing for 15-20 minutes, and Steve’ll yell out, “Let’s cut it.” Everybody’s loose, and it’s really cool.

That’s fascinating. I’ve always loved this idea that places hold their history — in both good and bad ways — but here the fact that you could step into Royal Studios surely lent something to that groove.

Yes, and that’s what I should mention, as well. Another part of the whole “feel” thing is being in Royal Studios. You walk into the place and you see pictures of Willie Mitchell, of course, and you see pictures of Al Green, and you see old tape boxes with Ann Peebles’ name on it, and you have the whole Mitchell family bringing in food. It’s just a “Welcome to the family” kind of feel. It was really warming to be there.

That comes across in the tracks that you were able to capture together. There’s a family reunion kind of feel. So now, in addition to your original tracks, you chose to cover Bill Withers and Tony Joe White, but then you also recorded with White. You’re getting all these Tennessee titans together! What was that like?

That was great. Steve’s wife, Meegan Voss, sent me the song “Aspen,” and I listened to it, and said, “This is really cool.” So when we got around to the song, Steve called him, and Tony Joe had just come from Australia or New Zealand, but he wanted to be the studio, so his son drove him over from the other side of the state. He showed up and he was so happy to be there, and he was like family, too. Everybody has a total respect for him. We just had a good time. He’s a wonderful human being.

There was another time that we did this program in Nashville, Songwriters & Storytellers or something like that, for PBS. I remember Keb’ Mo’ being there and a bunch of other people, but Tony Joe was there, and we each did songs. I’d do a song, then Keb would do one, then Tony Joe would do one. Everybody was pretty cool, until he broke out “Rainy Night in Georgia.” I think everybody wanted to walk out after that. He was the sweetest guy in the world. That’s when we first met.

And now here you are recording together! Your song “Way We Are” captures the beauty of staying with someone. Besides age and perspective, how has writing a love song changed for you over the years?

You can only write a love song if you’ve experienced love. I sat down and was thinking about the relationship that my wife and I have. We have our ways. Everybody has their ways. But the relationship works. I’m stubborn sometimes, and she’s stubborn sometimes, but at the end of the day, that’s who we are, and we acknowledge that. It came out that way.

I love it. Also, congratulations on receiving the Lifetime Achievement Award for Performance at AmericanaFest this year.

I’m looking forward to, once again, having the opportunity to work with Hi Rhythm. We’ve done three or four gigs, and it’s always a special treat. I love watching Charles Hodges play his organ! I always think back to the days when I was listening to Al Green, and I heard him going “Whaa-o” across the organ, and he does that all the time. I’m always smiles. I have a really good time with it.


Photo credit: Ronnie Booze

Keb’ Mo’: Raising the Vibration with Taj Mahal

Sometimes the future makes itself known in curious ways. Without the overarching scope of a narrative viewed from “The End” or the prescient understanding usually ascribed to mystics, however, it’s often hard to see in the moment. Comprehension follows chronologically. For Keb’ Mo’, scanning his life from the vantage point of the present, one such instance occurred during a Compton High School assembly in 1969. “When I was a kid in high school, I saw Taj Mahal,” he says. “He came and played. He didn’t talk to me. He didn’t even know I was there, but he showed up and played, and something happened.” Keb’ may not have known it at the time, but he got a glimpse of what lay ahead for him. “What I’ve learned over the years is that my work paid off to be in the presence of Taj Mahal and be in the game.”

He ascribes that early experience — hearing a musician on his way to becoming a legend — with helping him discover the value of showing up, of giving others your time and even sometimes simply your presence. (It’s a torch he’s carried by supporting a variety of music education programs, such as Playing for Change.) But beyond the importance of that philanthropic foundation, he came face-to-face (or perhaps more like ear-to-ear) with the musician he would one day play with, first on stage and now in the studio. “I’ve had moments on stage with him over the years, but we’re going in deep now,” Keb’ laughs.

He and Taj have partnered to release TajMo, a collection of covers and originals that take the blues as a starting point and move out, likes waves, to the other genres such waters touch. Classics like Sleepy John Estes’ “Diving Duck Blues” sit alongside John Mayer’s folksy-blues “Waiting on the World to Change” (replete with vocals from Bonnie Raitt) and the Who’s boisterous “Squeeze Box.” It’s a smorgasbord, as if Keb’ and Taj were hungry for all sorts of sounds and refused to curtail their diet. “The creative freedom to flow through and go different places — with and without the blues — was the note I took from him,” Keb’ says, summarizing what he learned. “That it’s okay to go. With this record, we knew we were going to do some breezy stuff, but it was also okay to go.”

Going places has long been Taj’s M.O. The prolific musician may have his foot firmly in blues, but he’s often wandered free from those constraints in order to find equally compelling cultural intersections. So, too, has Keb’. Known especially for his guitar playing — loosely relaxed yet robustly impassioned — he actively participated in Compton’s numerous music scenes, each of which added a component to his making. Where Taj wandered geographically, Taj wandered instrumentally. “I played French horn and I was the percussionist for the jazz band,” he says. “Everything was there for us to thrive and to become.”

It’s clear now how becoming, for Keb’, was always going to be a matter of finding the sounds first. It’s an inclination that remains with him to this day. When words don’t fully encompass what he’s feeling — if he isn’t entirely sure how to articulate a thought — he plucks his electric guitar. Such moments are quick, mere flashes in the pan that can be easily missed or mistaken for background noise, especially over the phone, but it happens often enough to see how a quiet A7 loosens the words necessary to make sense of the world.

The patience he brings to conversation can be seen in his work, as well. It’s a quality that helped him when it came to recording TajMo. The album took years. He recalls recording “Om Sweet Om” with friends during a party on New Year’s Day in 2015. “It was just magical,” he says about that session. “That album took a long time because we were tedious, and we were never in the same place at the same time for a lot of time. That gave me a lot of time to keep going in and listening to it, to really massage it. It gave me great perspective.” The two would exchange songs, deciding which to include, before Keb’ recorded them and sent them back. Then they’d get together to record the vocals, harmonies, and guitar overdubs.

The entire endeavor began with “Diving Duck Blues,” a song Mahal has covered often, both as a solo artist (including on his 1968 self-titled debut album) and with an array of musicians. “We did Crossroads [Guitar Festival] in 2012 at Madison Square Garden. Taj and I just sat down and did a version of ‘Diving Duck Blues’ and it made it onto YouTube.” When it came time to work on an album together, Keb’s wife knew exactly what they needed to do. “My wife, she said, ‘You gotta do ‘Diving Duck Blues’ on the record.’ She’s smart. So we went into the studio and recorded a version of that.” The version they came up with airs on the lighter side of the song’s despondent chorus. Thanks to a more relaxed and at times meandering rhythm, the two men edge away from bleak to find fresh perspective. Considering that the version Mahal included on his self-titled debut album falls closer to a feeling of prickly, wounded pride, their latest effort together suggests more than a touch of truth to that adage about wisdom blossoming with age.

The lengthy amount of time both musicians invested in TajMo, while working on other projects and touring independently, also meant that the world shifted around them as they neared release. “When we started making the record, all this stuff wasn’t going on,” Keb’ says about partisan politics and the country’s divisiveness. “And so to all of a sudden look at now and go, ‘Whoa,’ I’m so glad we finished it because in two months we’d be dead already.” A laugh follows his momentary apocalyptic thought. “I’m not happy about having Trump as president, but at least, if that was inevitable, then we got in some kind of divine flow to have a piece of art that can shed some light on a dark situation.” Mahal echoed that very sentiment when discussing his own music, “It gets me through all of this,” he says about music. “That’s why people like what I do, because it gets them through it.”

Where Taj is more likely to dive into a deep conversation about politics, race, and the state of things, Keb’ refrains from going too deep. Not because he doesn’t have opinions, but because he sees the benefit of approaching things from a different perspective. “Rather than speak out against an individual, I would rather speak out against divisiveness and spread more positive energy out there,” he says. That impetus explains why Keb’ and Taj decided to cover Mayer’s call for peace, “Waiting on the World to Change.” The song falls in line with other positive messages included on the album, such as “All Around the World” and “Soul.” It’s an idea that more and more R&B artists have been striving to include in their new releases, including Lee Fields and Aaron Neville: Take care of each other; take care of the world. Listening to “Soul,” it’s hard not to get swept up by the vision Keb’ and Taj put forth, listing off country after country to illustrate the soul connecting every living creature.

Rather than add to the country’s divisiveness, Keb’ wants his music to stimulate positivity. Get enough people in a room — like an audience — and he reckons music can shift anyone’s attitude. “It’s got to come from telling a bigger truth that’s sincere in your heart, that’s going to resonate,” he says. “If enough people are doing it — artists of all types, newscasters of all types, journalists of all types — we can raise the vibration of what we’re all going for.” But the work can’t come from any one person. What he and Taj have created and put out into the world is only one part of the larger need. “I can’t do it alone,” he admits, pointing back to TajMo. “That’s just a small piece in the overall narrative.”


Lede illustration by Cat Ferraz.

Counsel of Elders: Bobby Rush on Staying Sexy

Bobby Rush is a character, the lines between his true self and his stage act blurring until it’s hard to tell which is which. And perhaps that’s the point. There really can’t be any sharp distinction, because Rush is a performer through and through, his time on stage merely a larger — and sparklier — version of the man he is day to day. Rush isn’t his real name, of course, but from the way he likes to refer to himself in the third person, you’d be hard-pressed to think there was anyone else beneath the folk-funk fiend who sings about being a “Night Gardener” (mowing a different type of lawn, if you catch my drift). Rush was born Emmet Ellis, Jr. in Homer, Louisiana, in 1935, before his parents moved the family to Arkansas when he was 11. As a young adult, Rush continued north, landing in Chicago until Jackson, Mississippi, called his name 48 years later and he resettled there, halfway between his first home and his most formational. “I been in the big city, out the big city, in the country, in the small town, what have you,” Rush says, his words coming in a — wait for it — rush, all peppered with a lilting Southern accent. The styles he picked up along the way all informed his music — a flashy, fun take on funk that’s as innuendo-laden as they come.

The number of songs Rush has recorded isn’t just impressive, it’s staggering. He likens the figure to well over 300 tracks, but add to that his latest effort, Porcupine Meat, and Rush doesn’t just show a proclivity for songwriting, but a fever for it. Porcupine Meat, the kind of strained relationship involving a woman one doesn’t really want but hesitates to set free, marks his debut with Rounder Records. Like the title suggests, it showcases all the sexy jocularity that makes Rush such a popular draw night after night, even as a touring octogenarian. Rush’s funk comes packed full of colorful lyricism and lots of wink-winks, but with new contributions from Dave Alvin, Keb’ Mo’, and Joe Bonamassa on the album, he’s once again made some seriously catchy music for the Saturday night crowds before they make it to church on Sunday morning.

You grew up a pastor’s son, but a lot of your songs don’t seem like they’d fit in church. How is it that you started exploring this funkier, sexier side to life?

Well, that’s what you think. The same people that come to see Bobby Rush on Saturday night are the same people that go to church on Sunday mornings. It’s like that now and it’s always been like that. Where I come from, there’s a praise dance when you leave this land; but when you’re born, there’s a sad time. Most people have a death, you cry; when you born, you smile. It’s kind of the reverse with people from Louisiana. You’re kind of sad when you come here, you're happy when you go away, especially if you go at peace.

You’ve cut so many songs. Where does that drive come from?

I think it comes from being desperate to be someone, to be a superstar. I’m blessed to have this work. I’m just a crazy guy who don’t mind working, who don’t mind putting my hand into the grits. It’s part of my personality. Somebody told me I could make some money doing what I’m doing after about 20 years in the business. It wasn’t about the money, at the beginning; it was about the love of the music. I still have the love of the music, although I still wanna get paid for things. But I love what I’m doing. I love the music. I love the people that I’m doing it for, and the reaction from them still gives me that drum to keep going. It’s like a shot in the arm.

I’ve seen your live shows, especially one viral video — “I Ain’t Studdin Ya” — from a show in Memphis about eight years ago, and you sure love bringing the ladies up on stage. As a man in his 80s, what does it take to stay sexy?

It don’t take much to stay sexy — just think sexy. When you see ladies up on stage with me, it’s not about playing sexy; it’s just playing life. My momma, my sister, my auntie … that’s my life. I just like showing the ladies off because I’m praising them. This what makes me go 'round. Whether you in church or whether you in the bandstand or whether you in an alley or a top of a hill, the love of a woman is what man lives for. And I use it that way, too, to have fun and to get people involved with me on a personal level. They look at the ladies, but then I let the ladies walk away, then I get to tell my story as an artist, and I play my music.

Your lyrics are incredibly playful. Where do you drawn inspiration?

That’s my personality. What I live for is taking care of my children, making love, taking care of the lady of the house, and doing for my kids, and doing for others what you wish to have done to you. And I do it for the ladies. It starts with my mom. I take care of my mom, take care of my sisters, take care of the ladies around me like they part of my sisters. If this is my lady, I’m gonna take care of her in a special way. I’m just showing what I do and what I care about in my life. Ain’t nothing in the world to me is more important than the ladies. Nothing. There’s so many times we, as men, put that on the backburners because we men won’t do — and can’t do — anything without the ladies in our life. What do you work for? You work to take care of the ladies, so you can be took care of sexually and, you know, just have fun.

I feel like your song “Porcupine Meat” could extend to more than just toxic relationships. There are so many times in life when we know better and yet still go after things that aren’t healthy.

I was trying to write a song that relates to me and many other men like myself. You get a relationship that’s not as good as it should be, or ought to be, but then you can’t leave because you’ll find somebody just as bad or worse. Then sometimes you got some things go on that’s real good, and you don’t want that to be shared with no other men. You lose something, if you lose a woman. You know she don’t mean you no good, but you just can’t leave. The best way I can sum that up is that’s porcupine meat: "Too fat to eat and too lean to throw away.”

How do you deal with “porcupine meat”?

All you have to do is face it. “Should I leave this lady or should I leave this man?” "But you know this old man I got, he make love decent, but then he don’t stay home, but he bring all his money, when he do come home. I got another man I could get, but he won’t stay home, but he ain’t got no job." That’s where you stand.

There’s always a tradeoff.

There’s always a tradeoff. That’s porcupine meat.

There’s a performative nature to your songwriting. I heard it come through especially on “I Don’t Want Nobody Hanging Around.”

I don’t want nobody hanging around my house when I’m gone! Not even the milkman. People don’t have milkmen today, but back in the day, the milkman brought the milk to your house. I don’t want the mailman bringing in the mail! [Laughs] Stop it at the post office. I don’t even want the preacher coming by, when you all alone. If he want some chicken, let him get it from somewhere else. I say that because, in the Black church, preachers — most of them — love chicken, and they want ladies to cook chicken, but I don’t want my lady cooking chicken for him so he got no excuse to come by the house. If the lights go off, sit in the dark. [Laughs]

That doesn’t seem like a very nice situation for a woman, though.

If you think of it, the dark can be a nice place. If you understand. When the lights off. [Laughs]

Do you think about how these songs will translate to the stage while you’re writing them? That line in “I Don’t Want Nobody” when you start shouting out “you, you, and especially you” seems like it gives you a great moment onstage to play with.

I will visualize. I know somebody in the audience really like the lady I’m with, someone that I’m close to. I’ll say "I don’t want you, you, you, and especially you."

Right, I can see you pointing to that person.

He knows who that is when I point. He knows he has eyes on this girl.

It all cycles back into your show, and that’s where you really get to shine.

I did it this weekend for the second time onstage. I had 200 records with me and I walked off the stage and, in five minutes, they was gone. People was really into that record. I think it’s going to be one of the biggest records I ever cut. Let me tell you what, God has really blessed me to live this long, cutting records. Here’s what happened: I’m from Louisiana, and it’s the first time I recorded in Louisiana. And every musician except one was native of Louisiana. When it was finished, I had tears in my eyes. God has blessed me to come back home and do this for the first time.

It’s reflected in the music; you can hear a different kind of energy. And then you’ve got a musician like Keb’ Mo’ on it. I mean …

Oh God, what a hoooo. [Laughs] He’s just a lovely guy. All my guests were so wonderful. And it wasn’t about no money with these guys. These guys were in love with me, in love with the music, and they just wanted to play with me. I could never never thank these guys or pay these guys for the attitude they put into this playing.

Lastly, from your vantage point, what kind of advice can you offer up-and-coming artists?

I can tell young people, when it’s an old guy like myself, have a talk and listen and watch. When I was a young man, I listened … but not well enough. I disrespected Muddy Waters and Howlin' Wolf when I was very young. I took it for granted. These guys loved Bobby Rush, they had their arms around me.

I’m the last of the kind to do what I’m doing. I surely want to pass the torch on to the young guys. You got some older guys still doing it. But mostly an older guy is doing it in an old-fashioned way. What I like, the young guys are doing … they try to do what I do: I’m an old guy, but I still create, and do new licks and new directions and take it to another level. That’s what guys have to do. The Muddy Waters, Howlin' Wolf, BB King … all great, but it’s been done. We got to take their foundation and create something from that and make a new thing.

You always have to be growing and stretching.

We have to modify. We don’t want to modify too much and lose what we have. We don’t want to cross over and cross out.

 

For more Counsel of Elders, read Amanda's interview with William Bell.


Photo credit: Rick Olivier

Hey Nashville, Get Off Your Ass and Go See Some Live Music in August

August 1 // Fantastic Negrito // The High Watt

Yeah, yeah. NPR. Tiny Desk Concert. That may have been the boost Fantastic Negrito needed to get going, but now he's cruising along on his own, incredibly powerful momentum.

August 2 // Traveller // The Basement East

Supergroups are all relative, in the end. The latest one to crop up in Nashville is this little trio of Robert Ellis, Cory Chisel, and Jonny Fritz. Go see for yourself if the whole is greater than the sum of its artists.

August 4 // Kasey Chambers // City Winery

The Aussie singer/songwriter makes a rare appearance in Nashville to show off her shiny, award-winning new album.

August 7 // Amanda Shires // City Winery

Eight months pregnant, Amanda Shires is a living testament to "leaving it all on the field" … or stage, as the case may be. (And, no. Mr. Shires won't be there. He'll be in Seattle.)

August 20 // The Farewell Drifters // Station Inn

There's no better play in town to hear some pickin' and some sangin'. And, really, not that many better bands in town to do said pickin' and sangin'.

August 21-22 // Langhorne Slim // Mercy Lounge

For everyone who couldn't get into Langhorne Slim's recent album release performance, this two-night stand is for you. Go get your sweat on!

August 26 // Steep Canyon Rangers // City Winery

Like good wine? Like good bluegrass? Here you go.

August 28 // Keb' Mo' // Schermerhorn Symphony Center

It seems fitting that a gentleman of the blues such as Keb' Mo' would do his thing at the Symphony Center. And what a thing he does.

August 29 // Ruby Amanfu // The High Watt

As she gears up to release a solo record, Jack White's "Love Interruption" sidekick is doing three special performances. Luckily for us, she's from Nashville. Hometown crowd better represent!

August 30 // Rayland Baxter // 3rd & Lindsley

This guy. Rayland Baxter and his band will, no doubt, play the crap out of his super-solid new record, Imaginary Man. So, like, you should go enjoy it.