Traveler: Your Guide to Memphis

There are two types of people in this world: those who love Nashville and those who prefer Memphis. I fall into the latter. Located on the banks of the Mississippi River, Memphis is one of the South’s most diverse cities. The music history is rich. Jazz and blues incubated on Beale Street. Stax Records brought the soul. The trail of tears crossed the Mississippi. With so much to see and do, it’s important to go in with a plan and some sights in mind.

Getting There

Unless you’re coming from nearby, the most obvious choice would be airplane. Memphis has a major international airport, so you should have no problem getting a flight. If you are coming from down South, take Highway 61. It might take a bit longer, but you’ll come up the blues trail. Be sure to make a pit stop in Clarksdale, MS. It’s full of juke joints and good eats. You’ll pass the crossroads where Robert Johnson allegedly sold his soul … It’s now a parking lot.

Accommodations

The Peabody Ducks. Photo credit: Roger Schultz via Foter.com / CC BY.

Memphis is not an expensive city to visit and there are ample places to stay. I stayed at my friend Tim’s house, but that’s not an option for you: He’s a private person and doesn’t take kindly to unannounced strangers.

A good place to start on a moderate budget is downtown. Most of the hotels have decent prices and are also close to all the sights. If money is not a problem, check out the Peabody Hotel. It is a National Historic Hotel and famous for its ducks. The penthouse is home to a family of ducks. Every morning at 8 am, they take the elevator to the lobby. They march to the central fountain and then swim for the rest of the day. At exactly 5 pm each night, they take the elevator back upstairs. It’s been happening for countless generations. A duck walk of fame surrounds the building. Of course, the ducks aren’t the only reason it is listed as a National Historic Hotel. The Peabody is beautiful and emanates old school glamour.

If you are the adventurous type, check out the Big Cypress Lodge at the Bass Pro Shops at the Pyramid. I know, it sounds bonkers. Bass bought the Pyramid that formerly housed the Memphis Grizzlies. They retrofitted it as a massive retail store and hotel. It is amazing. They spared no expense. The closest comparison is Disneyland’s Splash Mountain. There are water features and catfish and dioramas. An enormous faux cypress tree reaches the upper decks of the pyramid. It’s worth a visit, even if you decide on a more practical sleeping arrangement.

Food

Photo courtesy of Central BBQ. 

Though famous for its barbecue, Memphis has wonderful food, all the way around. But, playing to its strengths, Central BBQ is a good spot to try out some different styles. Be warned: It’s popular and it gets crowded. Don’t be afraid of their hot barbecue sauce. It wasn’t very spicy. The mustard and vinegar sauces are worth a dip or two. Be sure to check out the great Mississippi Blues Map mural in the backroom.

How about a bit of soul food for brunch? Check out Alcenia’s. For $12.95, you can consume a week’s worth of calories. I had the sausage omelet with fried green tomatoes, a biscuit, potatoes, and coffee. I still had at least one more side choice. All of their food is good. The chicken and waffles are top notch. You’ll also get a kiss on the cheek if Miss BJ, the proprietor, is there. Plan on spending some time at this joint. It isn’t fast food, but it is well worth the wait. Don’t hold it against them that Guy Fieri recommended them. I know he’s a divisive figure, but he’s right about Alcenia’s.

Soul Fish Café was my favorite restaurant this time around. The blackened catfish is absolutely phenomenal. (The fried catfish was also delicious.) I can’t recommend the Soul Fish Café enough. The tables fill up fast, but there’s usually room at the counter. Highly recommended.

In short, I would be enormous if I lived in Memphis.

Drink

Beale Street. Photo credit: charley1965 via Foter.com / CC BY-SA.

If you’re going to Memphis as a tourist, you need to do some touristy things. One of those things is getting drunk on Beale Street — the Bourbon Street of Memphis. Lined with bars, Beale Street is where you’ll find dueling pianos and Stax cover bands. There’s Almost Elton, an Elton John cover artist, and a gazillion blues groups. You can drink in the street, so it’s a good time and it’s probably not somewhere the locals want to hang, but it’s worth visiting while on vacation.

The Cooper-Young neighborhood is another great area for drinks. The Slider Inn is a popular joint. There’s also Young Avenue Deli, which has pool tables and airs the games. Don’t worry if you don’t like sports, the games are muted. Another Cooper-Young neighborhood joint is the Celtic Crossing. On the weekends, they have live Celtic music, often accompanied by clogging.

Best of all, beers are cheap in Memphis. You won’t break the bank with a wild night on the town.

Coffee

Photo courtesy of Café Keough.

Visit Coffeehouse Row. (Nobody in Memphis calls it this, but I think it has a nice ring.) On the way to Cooper-Young, you’ll drive down Cooper Street. You have three different, but good, coffee choices. The first is Muddy’s Bake Shop. This is a cutesy place. You can get cupcakes here. If it were an online retailer, it would be Etsy. Next, you have Other Lands. It’s a bit grittier. They sell beer. If it were an online retailer, it would be Craigslist. Your final choice is Tart. It’s the artsy coffee house. They have a huge outdoor patio that’s great for smoking cigarettes and getting deep. If it were an online retailer, it would be Ziibra. But Café Keough is my favorite coffee shop. It’s downtown and one of the only places with bagels. The place is huge and has a comfortable atmosphere. They also have great t-shirts.

Live Music

Boogie on Beale Street. Photo credit: Heath Cajandig via Foter.com / CC BY.

Hi Tone is one of the best rock ‘n' roll venues in America. We caught a great show while in town — local band the Dead Soldiers were back in town after a long tour. They brought the house down. There were sing-alongs and inside jokes, as drunk people fell off their chairs waving their hands in the air. (It was like they just didn’t care.) There was a lot of love in that room, and it was a pleasure to bear witness. Also, the beers were cheap. I loved it.

Wild Bills is the best blues joint in town. It’s a bit isolated, but they have some great acts. They also serve 40s. Be warned that the music doesn’t start until 11 pm. 

If you make it to Beale Street, you’re going to catch a lot of live music. Every storefront offers up something new — traditional jazz, blues, rock ‘n' roll, and soul. The history of Memphis music is proudly displayed seven nights a week on Beale Street. The Southern Folklore Center also puts on some great daytime concerts. Located downtown, they curate an excellent roster that ranges from gospel to blues and everything in-between.

Local Flavor

Graceland living room. Photo credit: Rob Shenk via Foter.com / CC BY-SA.

Memphis has four must-see destinations. You need to go to Graceland. Don’t worry about the plane tour and all the add-ons. They pile up quick. Just go and see the mansion. It’s $36, and well worth it. It comes with a guided iPad tour that is narrated by John Stamos. (Yes, Uncle Jesse from Full House.) The tour is informative and Stamos’s voice sounds a bit like George Clooney, which I had never noticed. The Jungle Room is one of the coolest living rooms ever. The Pool Room is lined in fabric and feels like a 1970s opium den. Elvis didn’t care what was cool. He liked what he liked and the results are a one of a kind home.

Next, you have to visit Sun Studio. So many iconic records were recorded there. It’s where Elvis and Johnny Cash got their start. Howling Wolf cut some amazing sides at Sun before heading up to Chicago. To stand where so many greats have stood before is a powerful feeling.

The Lorraine Hotel, now the National Civil Rights Museum. Photo credit: Andy Miller.

Any Memphis trip is incomplete without a visit to the Lorraine Hotel. This is where Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot. It’s now the National Civil Rights Museum. It’s heavy. And it will depress you. That being said, it is important to remember our past mistakes in order to learn from them, especially in today’s extreme world.

Finally, you need to visit the Stax Records Home of American Soul Museum. Isaac Hayes's gold-plated Cadillac is on display and Otis Redding cut his classics in those same halls. If you were ever on the fence between Motown and Stax, you will leave with two feet in Stax’s backyard.


Lede photo credit: BlankBlankBlank via Foter.com / CC BY.

The Heart and Soul of Daptone Records

A young girl asks her mother, "How can Santa Claus visit them, when they don’t have a chimney? How can he leave presents under the tree, when he can’t even get into their apartment?" These are common questions most parents hear around the holidays, but it resonates powerfully in Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings’ new Christmas chestnut, “Ain’t No Chimneys in the Projects.” “I said, ‘Mama, how can this be?” Jones sings in that outsized voice of hers, gift-wrapping every syllable for the listener as the horns flare and flash around her, the rhythm section grooves and the backup singers repeat her not-quite-rhetorical question. Somehow she conveys the innocence of the daughter pondering the rules of Christmas, as well as the affectionate concern of the mother who concocts a story about a magic chimney.

“Ain’t No Chimneys in the Projects” could easily have been cheesy and goofy, especially with its references to the projects and the ghetto — terms that sound antiquated in the context of a Christmas tune. Fortunately, the musicians play it straight, grooving hard to reinforce the powerful emotional resonance of the lyrics. It’s only when the little girl grows up and stops believing in Santa that she starts believing in something even more magical: It was her own mother who saved money throughout the year and put those presents under the tree. “Mama, now I know that you were the one!”

In addition to appearing on the new Oxford American Music Issue CD sampler, the song anchors It’s a Holiday Soul Party, the first holiday album from the venerable indie R&B label Daptone Records. It’s billed to Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings, but it sounds like they invited the entire roster: Charles Bradley testifies mightily on “World of Love,” Saun & Starr harmonize beautifully on “Big Bulbs,” and seemingly the entire office staff sits in with the Dap-Kings. The album more than lives up to its party designation: With its lively energy and inventive interpretations of well-worn carols (This “White Christmas” is more Tina Turner than Bing Crosby.), it’s easily the best holiday album of the year.

“There’s some cute stuff on there and there’s some traditional stuff, as well,” says Neil Sugarman, who co-founded Daptone, produced the new record, and played saxophone on almost every song. “The nice thing is that there was no pressure. It was very impromptu. We just went in and jammed. And Sharon sings her ass off.”

The same, of course, could be said of nearly every Daptone release. Since it opened in 2001, the label has cornered the market on neotraditional soul music while also showing how loose that word “soul” can be. It obviously applies to the Stax- and Motown-derived R&B sung by Sharon Jones, Charles Bradley, and Saun & Starr. But it also includes the instrumental grooves of the El Michels Affair and the Sugarman 3, as well as the raw gospel of the Como Mamas and Naomi Shelton — even the cinematic funk of the Budos Band and Antibalas. Their records all sound like they could have been made in the 1960s or 1970s then excavated by extremely dedicated crate diggers at estate sales or junk stores. Yet, the music remains anchored in the 21st century and targeted to a contemporary audience.

It’s not a soul revival, precisely because no one at Daptone believes that soul needs to be revived. “People don’t say jazz music is retro or Latin music is retro,” says Sugarman. “But they do say soul music is retro.” It’s an odd popular prejudice, one that Daptone combats with music that consciously emphasizes the past while remaining doggedly engaged with the present. “It’s absolutely roots music,” he says, noting that it’s more urban than rural, more ghetto than holler. “We wear our influences on our sleeves, and there’s a lineage that we pay homage to every time we pull our instruments out of our cases. We try to groove as hard as the records that we love.”

When they formed Daptone nearly 15 years ago, Sugarman and Gabriel Roth tried to emulate the labels they loved, establishing a particular sound, a strong brand, and a loyal following that would take a chance on unknown artists. Charged with running a business, they both remained musicians first and foremost. Roth (sometimes known as Bosco Mann) plays bass, Sugarman blows the sax. “At this point in my life, I like having both. I like controlling the business and controlling my destiny as a recording artist. I love getting on the road with people like Sharon and Charles, and getting the kind of insight into their music that I couldn’t get if I was just sitting in the office answering emails and writing checks.”

For most of its life, Daptone only signed New York artists, many of them older and practicing their craft on the margins of the music industry. Charles Bradley was trained as a carpenter and had been hired to help Roth and Sugarman build a new studio, but he turned out to be an amazing singer whose live shows have galvanized audiences around the world. “He’s the guy we would call any time we needed help. We loved this guy so we wanted to work for this guy. We wanted to help him build a career.”

Similarly, Saundra “Saun” Williams and Starr Duncan Lowe originally came into the Daptone fold as back-up singers in the Dap-Kings, after having performed for decades as the Good 'N Plenty Girls. They quickly established themselves as a core part of the band’s sound — both in the studio and on the stage. “We always talked about making a record with them, but it takes a while to figure out who these people are,” says Sugarman, noting that it took them five years to plan, write, and record their debut, Take a Closer Look, released in May 2015. It was worth the wait, as the album reveals two spry singers with incredible chemistry, not to mention a band that adapted to complement their dynamic.

But the present is not what the past used to be. The market is changing, with newer labels like Colemine and 180 Proof crowding the scene, soul revivalists like Leon Bridges jumping straight to major labels, and consumers relying more and more on streams rather than outright purchases. “I’m not going to lie — it’s getting tricky,” Sugarman says. “Streaming services are taking a big chunk out of our revenue. When you look at the numbers, close to two million people per day click on a Daptone song. It’s exciting to see those numbers. The audience is there, but we’re not getting compensated. It could get to the point where it’s not sustainable as a business anymore, so you have to figure out how to keep putting records out.”

One way of surviving is to grow and expand, albeit very carefully and very gradually. In 2015, Daptone founded an imprint — Wick Records — to release 7-inch singles by New York garage rock bands, starting with a ferocious debut by the Mystery Lights. The label also signed a reggae band called the Frightnrs, whose first full-length is slated for release in 2016. Another upcoming release stands out even more: James Hunter’s Daptone debut, Hold On!, will hit stores (and, of course, streaming services) in Feburary. “He’s an English artist, so he’s the first artist we’ve signed who’s not from New York.”

Sugarman insists that the key to Daptone’s success has been — and will continue to be — its emphasis on community over market shares or compensation. “Not only do we need to like someone’s music, but they have to function within this family. That’s the way it has to be for the music to progress and stay honest. I don’t think we could have pulled off Daptone any other way.”


Photo courtesy of the artist

Soul Man: An Interview with Nathaniel Rateliff

Folks who are familiar with only Nathaniel Rateliff's earlier albums might need to forget everything they know in order to embrace his new release, Nathaniel Rateliff & the Night Sweats. Gone are the somber, acoustic ruminations about love and loss. And, in their stead come rollicking soul romps intent on getting the party started. It's a musical direction the Missouri native has long-wanted to pursue and finally has, with an endorsement from none other than Stax Records.

You grew up in Missouri, but you've lived in Denver for a pretty good while now. Has the Midwest ever left you or are you still pretty rooted there?

I feel like the landscape of Missouri is really at the heart of me, for sure. But, as much as I love it, I feel like it's a little stuck. I like being where I'm at now. I love the Midwest and I love my family that's there, too.

Missouri's had a tough year.

Yeah, it's sad to see the stuff that's happening there right now. But, hopefully, it'll help bring about change throughout the rest of the States.

You moved to Denver to do some missionary work. I've seen you live, man. You do not look or sound like a missionary. Was that a teenage flight of fancy or something else? A way to get out?

[Laughs] I made a joke with … one of my best friends joined the Navy to get out of Missouri. And I was like, “Man, it sure sucks that you had to join the Navy to leave Missouri.” And he said, “Yeah, it sucks you had to join the occult to leave Missouri.” [Laughs] I was a kid when I left home. As much as you think you know when you're 18, you don't really know anything. If you're raised in a Christian family, you hold all of that as truth. But, as you get older, you discover things like Alan Watts and Joseph Campbell. You stop worrying about God and the existence of God and what you're supposed to do with your life and what God supposedly wants you to do. And you just do things for yourself because it feels right.

I mean, I'm a spiritual person, but the whole premise of missionaries is bewildering to me. Seems like that sort of hard-sell misses the whole point.

Correct. I was having a hard time with religion and all that stuff while we were still training and preparing to go out and minister to the world. It's come up so much that I end up having to talk about it, but it's hard to explain yourself. I was having a hard time before we left Denver to go minister to people. Then, when we started to minister to people, I was like, “This isn't right.” The people I was with, I thought were really inconsiderate of and rude to other people's cultures. We didn't even leave the U.S. We ended up working with the Hopi Indians. I've always had a huge interest in Native American culture and spiritual beliefs.

But when we were there, I was just so offended by the way everybody treated these Native Americans and were trying to save them. I was like, “But, if God was real … [wouldn't] he or she have come down and shown themselves? Are these people's stories any different than ours?” Then when you start to research Mediterranean history and what was going on there at that time of Christ, it makes a lot more sense that the supposed messiah was just another guy who was trying to get the Jews out of Roman rule and law. Just another zealot who had no reason to be doing what he was doing. And “POP!” But it takes a long time when you're … a lot of the world reads the Bible, but sometimes that's the only thing they read. That's my wife's biggest complaint.

How do questions of faith and the big picture work their way into your songwriting?

I think, if they do, it's more set up as prose — one liners versus really large statements. I haven't gone through my John Lennon phase yet, so we'll see.

[Laughs] Right. So … why soul? Why now with that?

It's something I've been wanting to do for a really long time. And I feel like, throughout my career, I keep doing these things in increments of seven or eight years. I work on something and try to establish it. Born in the Flood was a little longer than eight years before I started the Wheel which became just Nathaniel Rateliff. Then I did that for seven or eight years. I've always loved soul and R&B music, even blues and gospel and old field recordings and Alan Lomax. I've always thought that stuff was awesome. I grew up singing to — and learning how to sing — to that stuff. I always wanted to write soul songs, but I didn't think, as far as what I wanted to write, I didn't feel like I could connect with it, lyrically. I didn't want the songs to be like “Golly Gee” or things that were appropriate in the '50s and '60s. I wanted to sing about the stuff I've always been singing about. You know, tragedy and love. [Laughs]

After I finished Falling Faster Than You Can Run, I got dropped from Rounder so I made the record by myself and it really didn't have a home. We were trying to shop it around and I was really proud of the material. It was going to be the follow-up to In Memory of Loss. I had the material long before it came out, but it took a couple of years to get into the studio and get it all laid down. The recording process was quick; it was just getting it all set up and having the time to not be out on the road still working. After that was all done, I was pretty discouraged and was like, “Well, I guess I'll be a gardener or get a job as a carpenter.”

Like Jesus.

[Laughs] Right. Right. Exactly! I didn't really know what was going to happen and I had a friend who was like, “Hey, man, you should come to the studio and we should record some songs to tape and put it out on a 45 — like two songs.” I was like, “Okay. I've always wanted to do some soul and R&B.” I went home and it was either that day or the next that I wrote “Trying So Hard Not to Know” and recorded it at home, played all the parts. After I'd written and recorded that song, later that night, I was in bed and I had this idea at the end of “Trying So Hard Not to Know” to have horns come in and have a reprise that would go right into another song, which ended up being “Look It Here.” All of a sudden, I had two songs and I was like, “This is pretty cool sounding.”

I can keep going with this!”

Yeah, exactly. In a short amount of time, I had the whole set of songs. And another friend was like, “Hey, man, I have an album release show coming up. Do you want to play?” And I was like, “Well, I can't really play as Nathaniel Rateliff because we have some festivals and stuff coming up in town and I don't want to piss people off for breaking contracts.” So then I had a couple months' deadline to piece together a band and have a 30-minute set. I managed to do it somehow.

Our first show was kind of a surprise to all of us. It was a lot of fun and different from anything that I'd done in the past. That was kind of it.

You said, and I agree, that a lot of that classic soul/R&B stuff in the '60s was just “Hey, baby baby.” But there was also the other side of it, like “Change Is Gonna Come.” You're not doing that side of it, either. You're splitting the difference a little bit, yeah?

Right. A lot of that Stax stuff, like “Soul Man,” they were still speaking in a subtle way about stuff they wanted to have change.

One article I read on you said that you were “Bon Iver’s competition for the title of saddest lumbersexual alive.” Is it your fault that Justin [Vernon] is retiring that project? Can we put that on you?

Can I say off the record, isn't it probably [redacted]'s fault that everybody stopped playing acoustic guitar? [Laughs]


Photo credit: Malia James