From “Alligator Bait” to “Gospel Blues,” Joy Is Central on Robert Finley’s ‘Black Bayou’

Been around the world, seen some of everything, but what I like about it the most is the joy that I bring…

– Robert Finley,Livin’ Out A Suitcase

Whether it’s at home or abroad, Robert Finley’s youthful exuberance has a knack for not only lighting up rooms, but people’s faces as well. On his latest batch of songs, the former sharecropper and carpenter – who got his start in music during a stint in the Army – continues that trend with 11 stories pulled from his Louisiana upbringing that include everything from the poignant “No One Wants To Be Lonely” to the cheeky and overly embellished “Alligator Bait.”

Pulling from rock, soul, blues and a whole lot of gospel, Black Bayou is easily Finley’s most personal and sonically developed record to date. His third project with Dan Auerbach and Easy Eye Sound, the record is one that came about organically, feeding on the artist’s energetic live performances with lyrics and arrangements put together on the spot in the studio with no pre-fabricated blueprint.

“When we did this album there was no pencil or paper in the room,” Finley tells BGS of the process. “The band was free to jam what they felt and I had the freedom to say what I felt. Nothing was written beforehand, it all came to life in the moment.”

Born in Winnsboro and now based in Bernice, a North Louisiana hamlet only thirty miles from the Arkansas border, Finley has excelled at living in the moment despite the fast moving world around him. That essence is what accelerates his storytelling throughout Black Bayou, particularly on songs like the aforementioned “Livin’ Out A Suitcase” and “Nobody Wants To Be Lonely,” the latter of which has the artist crooning about the elderly sitting at nursing homes around the country with no family wanting or able to keep in touch or care for them. It’s a topic that Finley doesn’t just sing about from the studio, though. He visits nursing homes in his community on a regular basis to serenade its residents.

“So many people have been forgotten,” says Finley. “Their kids drop them off and go on with their lives. I go down occasionally and perform at the old folks home in Bernice. Just take my guitar and play for 30 minutes or so, try to get them to dance, try to bring some joy to them.”

Whether in those homes or the local clubs, Finley is determined to use his platform to give back to the community that made him. In addition to never turning down a conversation or photo op, he also aims to lift up the next generation of musicians, offering support and guidance to those cutting their teeth and in need of a role model as they pursue their own musical dreams.

“I always go back whenever I’m not on tour, simply because that’s where I got my start,” says Finley. “It also gives me a chance to encourage the young artists there to pursue their dreams, because I can share how I started busking over there on the corner eight years ago and now I’m touring the world. Had I not made that first step, then nobody would even know what I was capable of doing.”

As listeners have come to expect from Finley, Black Bayou is full of lust, love, spirituality, and humor as well. Tunes like “Sneakin’ Around,” “Miss Kitty,” and “Can’t Blame Me For Trying” showcase Finley’s flamboyant and flirtatious side, which goes hand in hand with his center-stage shimmying and shaking at live shows. On the flip side, cuts like the swampy album closer, “Alligator Bait,” unravels as a spoken word recollection of a formative day on the bayou with his grandfather with a gnarly and always evolving backbeat oozing with attitude.

Together these stories make a patchwork quilt of sounds, emotions, and stories that only Finley could piece together. Calling into his North Louisiana home, we spoke with Finley — our November Artist of the Month — in detail about Black Bayou, making music with his family, the similarities between performing and preaching, and more.

What has busking taught you about performing and holding an audience’s attention?

I’ve learned that you don’t need to put all of your eggs in one basket. I’m always trying to shake it up and introduce new things to the crowd at my shows, because no matter how good a movie is, if you watch it two or three times you’re going to know exactly what happens next. It doesn’t mean it’s not a great movie, it just means you’re not going to watch something that you already know the result of. I don’t want to rehearse and be programmed to do the same thing over and over, I need to have the freedom of the spirit of the moment.

Your daughter Christy Johnson and granddaughter LaQuindrelyn McMahon both joined you on this record. What’s it mean to you to share your love for music with them?

It’s great being able to have three generations of Finleys singing together. I’ve always admired Pop Staples and The Staple Singers for him and his daughters. I have two other daughters as well, but they both work in the medical field and can’t just uproot and follow me around the world. My oldest is a licensed beautician, but put it on hold to help me pursue my career due to my sight being bad. She saw that I was determined to do it either way, so she sacrificed hers to make sure I wasn’t alone. Because of that I want to share the spotlight with her every chance I get.

She first came on during the audition process for America’s Got Talent, which was her introduction to the world. The label loved her so much that they were willing to use her on the albums. Soon we needed a second background singer, so I let Dan [Auerbach] know about my granddaughter. He and the label were immediately supportive and have been willing to [incorporate] as much of my family as possible into my career. This is mostly just me trying to open a gateway for them, because they have the potential to be bigger and better successes than me. Or at least it won’t take them 69 years to get discovered.

You’re often referred to as a bluesman, but Black Bayou could also just as easily be described as a gospel album. What are your thoughts on the dynamic between the two genres and how you’re able to tie them together on the record?

The only difference between the gospel and the blues is really the choice of words you use. The same music that you hear in the club is being played in the church and the same music that we grew up on in the church is being played in the clubs. The only difference is that if you want blues you sing “oh baby” and if you want gospel you sing “oh lord.” Other than that, a lot of the rhythms and dances are the same.

What’re your thoughts on continuing to make this type of music in the modern age?

I don’t even look at it as gospel or blues anymore. I look at it as just saying the truth. Regardless of what you’re going through, there’s someone else who’s somewhere who’s been through the same thing. The fact that they made it through gives hope that you can do it, too.

As artists, we’re blessed with fans that will pay to come see you and even take your advice home with them. The same people who go to church will not remember a thing the preacher talked about, but if they like your song they’ll remember it word for word. If you’re really trying to reach people, you’ve got a better chance to reach a lot more folks by singing than you would preaching. Nobody wants to listen to an hour and a half or two hour sermon, but they will stay around a concert for an encore. That’s why it’s so important when you have the world’s attention to tell them something positive with it.

It almost sounds like you view yourself performing on stage like a minister preaching from the pulpit?

That’s it. I can get a bigger crowd than the average preacher even though church is always free, but even then people will flock to the clubs. I’ve also sang “Amazing Grace” in nightclubs and had people put down their glasses, sing-a-long, and go to church with me. You just don’t know what people will do. Everyone’s going through something. If you stop the church people from going to the club then the club will shut down, because most of the people frequenting there are church folks from the other side of town. The problem is that while there they’re not getting the truth. They’re getting the water, but not the wine.

There’s not a better song on the album that ties these influences together than the aptly named “Gospel Blues.” Are you hypothesizing what you’ll do in heaven on it?

I’m trying to tell people not to be so judgmental. That’s why I sing, “I do drink a little whiskey, and I’ll take a little shot of wine” – because it’s better to be real with people than to try and fool them. Whether I have some whiskey [or not] isn’t going to have anything to do with whether or not I go to heaven or hell.

Another song I’ve been captivated by is “Alligator Bait.” Is that a true story?

That song was actually designed more or less as a joke. I never met my grandfather on either side, but I did hear stories when I was sitting around with my dad and his brothers about things like that. It seemed like I had a cruel, cruel grandfather, but that wasn’t the message I was trying to convey. I was trying to prove that any song where you think you’re right needs to be like you just read a novel. It needs to tell a story. It’s more about being a convincing writer than deceiving.

On the cover of Black Bayou is the pond that I used to swim in and got baptized in. For a while it’s just been deserted, but we went back there, because it conjured up a lot of those childhood memories. Even just standing there taking photos my mind flashed back to the things we used to do there like swimming on one end and fishing on the other. Us jumping in the water would scare the fish over to the other side where they could get caught easier, which in many ways is similar to how the alligator is lured in the song.

What has music taught you about yourself?

It’s helped me to find and be myself. I used to try imitating everyone from James Brown to Ray Charles, but soon I realized that the only person I could be the best version of was myself. Nobody can beat you being you. If you just be yourself then you’re automatically different from everybody else anyway. Being real with myself and my music has opened so many doors for me, because of that.


Photo Credit: Jim Herrington

Artist of the Month: Robert Finley

Dan Auerbach’s Easy Eye Sound has an impressive catalog and roster of albums and artists. While it’s easy to trace how each intersects or diverges from Auerbach’s own musical and artistic approaches, only a handful of artists who’ve had releases with the label truly supersede the star power of their Grammy Award-winning producer, co-writer, and collaborator. Yola utilized Auerbach and Easy Eye as her gravitational assist to slingshot herself up into roots music’s – and now, Hollywood’s – stratosphere; Nat Myers‘ brand of down-to-earth, hardscrabble blues feels equally right at home and as a superlative outlier among his labelmates; and, perhaps chief among the top of Easy Eye’s “class” of music-makers is another bluesman, Robert Finley. His brand new release, Black Bayou, is his third with the label – and it finds him continuing to stake out his musical territory, confident in the well-deserved notoriety he’s now gained at this late point in his career. (Finley, as of this writing, is 69 years young.)

Black Bayou is blues unencumbered by the perennial rhetoric and discourse that engulfs this genre and tradition. What role do the blues have to play in a post-modern society? Can acoustic, old-fashioned, and/or vernacular blues music be modern, forward-looking, and responsive? Is blues dying, or is our fear of its decline or demise yet another facet of this form? Can the blues be something more than “time capsule” music? Black Bayou, with Finley’s trademark joy and wizened smile, encourages its listeners to also laugh in the face of these often pseudo-academic, fedora-wearing musical intellectuals. This is music for the present; this is music that’s visceral, propulsive, and – well, fun.

You can tell that Finley and his cohort had fun making it, too. Auerbach appears on Black Bayou, as does drummer Patrick Carney, his partner from their preeminent rock duo, the Black Keys. Eric Deaton (bass), Kenny Brown (guitar), Jeffrey Clemens (also on drums), and vocalists Christy Johnson and LaQuindrelyn McMahon – Finley’s daughter and granddaughter, respectively – round out the project’s ensemble. It’s a cohesive group, serving Finley’s musical mission perfectly and, when appropriate, getting the hell out of his way. It’s part of why Finley does rise above the Easy Eye Sound prestige and pomp, cutting through crisply, with a direct and honest point of view.

This music isn’t just grounded in the present, it’s also rooted in Finley’s home turf of Northern Louisiana, perhaps explaining why he can both be totally unconcerned with “authenticity” while also being a fountain of raw, direct sincerity. Here is a musician and singer who makes music for all of the right reasons, continuing to do it because it’s what he does. His expertise is kind and open, inviting even the casual or uninitiated listeners to engage with his music on the same level as the bespectacled blues autodidact.

Roberty Finley and Black Bayou are disarming, prescient reminders that whatever forms roots and vernacular musics take, they will always have unmeasurable value when viewed as paragons of the present rather than relics of the past. We are all lucky to inhabit a present that includes Robert Finley.

Watch for an exclusive BGS Artist of the Month interview with Finley later in November and, for now, enjoy our Essential Robert Finley playlist below.


Photo Credit: Jim Herrington

Grammy Nominations 2022: See the American Roots Music Nominees

The Grammy Awards have revealed their nominees, and the American Roots Music ballot is especially diverse this year. Take a look at nominations for the 2022 show, which will air January 31 from Los Angeles on CBS. (See the full list.)

Best American Roots Performance

Jon Batiste – “Cry”
Billy Strings – “Love and Regret”
The Blind Boys of Alabama and Béla Fleck – “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to be Free”
Brandy Clark Featuring Brandi Carlile – “Same Devil”
Allison Russell – “Nightflyer”

Best American Roots Song

Rhiannon Giddens, Francesco Turrisi – “Avalon”
Valerie June Featuring Carla Thomas – “Call Me a Fool”
Jon Batiste – “Cry”
Yola – “Diamond Studded Shoes”
Allison Russell – Nightflyer

Best Americana Album

Jackson Browne – Downhill From Everywhere
John Hiatt with the Jerry Douglas Band – Leftover Feelings
Los Lobos – Native Sons
Allison Russell – Outside Child
Yola – Stand for Myself

Best Bluegrass Album

Billy Strings – Renewal
Béla Fleck – My Bluegrass Heart
The Infamous Stringdusters – A Tribute to Bill Monroe
Sturgill Simpson – Cuttin’ Grass Vol. 1 (Butcher Shoppe Sessions)
Rhonda Vincent – Music Is What I See

Best Traditional Blues Album

Elvin Bishop and Charlie Musselwhite – 100 Years of Blues
Blues Traveler – Traveler’s Blues
Cedric Burnside – I Be Trying
Guy Davis – Be Ready When I Call You
Kim Wilson – Take Me Back

Best Contemporary Blues Album

The Black Keys Featuring Eric Deaton and Kenny Brown – Delta Kream
Joe Bonamassa – Royal Tea
Shemekia Copeland – Uncivil War
Steve Cropper – Fire It Up
Christone “Kingfish” Ingram – 662

Best Folk Album

Mary Chapin Carpenter – One Night Lonely (Live)
Tyler Childers – Long Violent History
Madison Cunningham – Wednesday (Extended Edition)
Rhiannon Giddens with Francesco Turrisi – They’re Calling Me Home
Sarah Jarosz – Blue Heron Suite

Best Regional Roots Music Album

Sean Ardoin and Kreole Rock and Soul – Live in New Orleans!
Big Chief Monk Boudreaux – Bloodstains and Teardrops
Cha Wa – My People
Corey Ledet Zydaco – Corey Ledet Zydaco
Kalani Pe’a – Kau Ka Pe’a


Photo of Allison Russell: Marc Baptiste
Photo of Tyler Childers: David McClister
Photo of Rhiannon Giddens and Francesco Turrisi: Karen Cox

The Show on the Road – Menahan Street Band (The Daptone Sound)

This week, The Show On The Road brings you a rare conversation with Thomas Brenneck and Homer Steinweiss, the braintrust behind brass-forward instrumental supergroup the Menahan Street Band. If Tarantino and Scorsese ever needed a custom-made, 1970’s greasy-soul soundtrack, MSB might be the perfect choice. While the timeless Daptone Records sound has gone worldwide thanks to breakout stars like the late Sharon Jones and Charles Bradley, most don’t know the bandleaders and songwriters behind their intricately arranged works.

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Guitarist/producer Thomas Brenneck has been the secret sauce in helping hitmaker Mark Ronson create vintage backdrops for crossover stars like Amy Winehouse, while Homer Steinweiss’ slinky drumming can be heard across the Daptone universe, including on Jones, Winehouse, and Lee Fields and The Expressions records, not to mention his work with Lady Gaga, St. Vincent, and Bruno Mars. For the first time in a decade, MSB — which includes Dave Guy (The Roots), Leon Michaels (The Black Keys) and Nick Movshon (The Expressions) — have reconvened the troops to create their most effortlessly cinematic collection yet: the cheekily titled The Exciting Sounds Of The Menahan Street Band. The album art alone signifies a sensual, intimate evening is ahead to whoever listens. Is the design NSFW? Maybe.

Brenneck called into the episode taping from outside L.A. and Steinweiss from his studio in New York City. The conservation jumped back to how they formed the group in 2007, how they convinced Bradley to join them in making new music (he had been doing James Brown impression work), and how they find that out-of-body, improvisational zen zone which creates their aural moods of mystery and intrigue — showcased best in the reverb-y Bond-like jam “Starchaser.”

A favorite surreal moment that Brenneck mentioned was driving through Brooklyn hearing their song sampled by Jay-Z. For a moment, their horns were blaring from every car radio in the city. While hip-hop legends often find their beats and backdrops from classic soul and R&B vinyl, notables like Eminem, Kendrick Lamar, Travis Scott and 50 Cent have mined the funky MSB catalog for years. Sir Paul McCartney also used their services. If you need an instant vibe, they’ve got you. Even in sparkling trumpet-led themes like “Glovebox Pistol,” which clocks in at a minute and eight seconds long, you can see a velvet-boothed, smoke-filled scene unfolding, bringing to mind the lush scores of The Godfather or The Score.

Only recently have star backing-bands like The Wrecking Crew, The Swampers, and the Muscle Shoals Rhythm Section come to be appreciated for creating some of the most beloved songs in the American pop canon, from The Beach Boys and Aretha Franklin to Paul Simon, Bob Dylan, and The Staples Singers. It can be argued that in the 21st century, Brenneck and Steinweiss (and the work of The Menahan Street Band) deserve to be included in that conversation. With one listen of The Exciting Sounds Of The Menahan Street Band, you are transported — exactly where is up to you.


Photo credit: Shervin Lainez

The Show on the Road – Robert Finley

This week on The Show On The Road, we journey to northern Louisiana for a unique conversation with sprightly blues and southern rock singer Robert Finley, who began making music in his cotton-growing family in the 1960s, and has been rediscovered and empowered through his remarkable partnership with Dan Auerbach of The Black Keys.

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Finley’s funky and cheeky comeback album, Goin’ Platinum (which sounds like a lost Motown gem), came in 2017. In May of 2021, he celebrated the release of the deeply personal follow-up, Sharecropper’s Son. As you can hear in the episode, even in his late sixties, Finley is a playful force to be reckoned with and isn’t shy about sharing how faith and music have gotten him through decades of tragedy and hardship. In 2019 he even reached the semi-finals of America’s Got Talent.

Growing up in a religious home where blues and soul music was rarely allowed to be heard, Finley worked as an army helicopter repairman and professional carpenter for many years, often keeping his keen musical ideas to himself. He may now be legally blind, but the always-sharp dressed Finley (he loves a snakeskin jacket) was spotted busking on the streets of Helena, Arkansas and the blues-obsessed Auerbach was smitten with Finley’s raw, swampy Jimi Hendrix meets James Brown tone.

Both of Finley’s critically-applauded releases subsequently came out on Auerbach’s Easy Eye Sound, which has become a home for previously unheralded Black artists like Yola, Jimmy “Duck” Holmes, and Leo Bud Welch.

(Editor’s note: Read BGS’ recent interview with Robert Finley here.)


 

The BGS Radio Hour – Episode 211

Welcome to the BGS Radio Hour! Since 2017, this weekly radio show and podcast has been a recap of all the great music, new and old, featured on the digital pages of BGS. This week, we bring you new music from our June Artist of the Month, Chris Thile, as well as Robert Finley, Oliver Wood, and much more! Remember to check back every week for a new episode of the BGS Radio Hour.

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Robert Finley – “Sharecropper’s Son”

Singer-songwriter Robert Finley first picked up a guitar at age 11. He was raised in Jim Crow-era Louisiana amongst a family of sharecroppers and knew from a young age that his dream was to sing. Now, at sixty-seven-years-old, that dream is alive and well with his newly-released, third solo album, Sharecropper’s Son, made in collaboration with Dan Auerbach of The Black Keys. BGS recently caught up with Finley to talk about the new album, and how his upbringing and vast life experiences have shaped his music.


DoomFolk StarterKit – “Look at Miss Ohio”

For David Swick of DoomFolk StarterKit, recording any of Gillian Welch’s work is an honor. His cover of “Look at Miss Ohio” has a balance of lightness and melancholy in its’ arrangement, which Swick says represents the song’s theme of “making peace with uncertainty.”

Zach Person – “Wanna Fly”

Zach Person was inspired to write “Wanna Fly” after reflecting upon the social and political intensity of 2020. He cites “Dylan-esque” protest songs and the openness of the western plains as the two main influences of this powerful track.

Lula Wiles – “Call Me Up”

“Call Me Up,” from Lula Wiles’ new album, Shame and Sedition, is a lighter track amongst an album that aims to transform listeners and enact change. Between tender harmonies and mellow piano chords, the trio describes meeting with an old acquaintance, singing, “I know you’ve been taking it rough / You gotta just call me up.”

Oliver Wood – “Face of Reason”

BGS spoke with Oliver Wood of The Wood Brothers for a 5+5 in support of his new solo record, Always Smilin’. He told us about his biggest influences — from Ray Charles to Levon Helm — as well as how hard times can be processed through songwriting. When asked to write a mission statement for his career, he stated: “Just be completely yourself, because that’s all you have, and that’s enough.”

Dana Sipos – “Breathing Barrel”

Dana Sipos’ “Breathing Barrel” is a meditation of being at peace with the present moment. Written immediately upon returning home to the city from a music residency at the Banff Centre for the Arts, deep in the foothills of the Canadian Rockies, this song is an attempt to integrate a very powerful experience into the more mundane, everyday life.

Shannon McNally – “This Time”

Shannon McNally reimagines Waylon Jennings’ “This Time” by giving the lyrics a personal spin — singing not about a lover, but instead about her relationship with the music business as an artist and as a woman. For McNally, the song’s directness is a breath of fresh air, and it helped her get into the headspace that permitted her to sing the rest of the album.

Chris Thile – “Laysong”

The name Chris Thile is likely familiar to fans in any corner of roots music. Growing up in southern California, Thile rose to popularity with his childhood (and sometimes still adult) band Nickel Creek, and has since helped form the Punch Brothers, the Goat Rodeo Sessions, and other noteworthy collaborations. However, this summer Thile brings something special — a completely solo album entitled Laysongs. In celebration, he is our Artist of the Month, so be sure to stick around all month long for exclusive content from Chris Thile.

Mara Connor – “Old Man”

Mara Connor recorded “Old Man” at the same age Neil Young was when he wrote it about a caretaker who lived on his ranch. When she first heard the track, she was struck by the amount of empathy the songwriter exhibited at such a young age. Connor states that the song is an affirmation of how the world would be a better place if we took the time to see the humanity in each other’s eyes.

The Grascals – “Thankful”

2020 was a difficult year for us all, and it seems that we need uplifting music more now than ever before. “Thankful” is just that. The lyrics are a powerful reminder of the things we have to be grateful for and of the important things in life.

Rising Appalachia – “Catalyst”

Inspired by their recent release and the blooming of spring, Rising Appalachia’s Leah Song created a Mixtape for BGS, entitled Rising Appalachia’s Love Songs for Blooming Spring. The playlist features heartbreakers and heart-menders from John Prine to Hozier that are sure to make your heart bloom.

Eli Lev – “As It Is”

Eli Lev’s “As It Is” began to develop halfway through a 10-day meditation retreat he went on near the Florida coast at the beginning of the year. He states, “I experienced silent sunrises over the ocean and brilliant sunsets over the bay that brought on infinite color variations and led me to a unique insight that everything is changing while staying exactly ‘as it is’ in every moment.”

Kyle LaLone – “Learning How to Love”

Featuring the sweet sounds of classic country twang and harmonies by singer-songwriter Michaela Anne, Kyle Lalone’s “Learning How to Love” is a song that details the process of understanding how to be a good partner and showing up for someone in a relationship.


Photos: (L to R) Robert Finley by Alysse Gafjken; Shannon McNally by Alysse Gafjken; Chris Thile by Josh Goleman

Guided by the Hand of God, Robert Finley Attains His Lifelong Dream

Depending on how much attention one pays to labels, singer-songwriter Robert Finley could accurately be called both a blues and soul vocalist, even though he’s also performed plenty of gospel, and has a passionate faith that is often reflected in comments about his unlikely emergence as a national figure in his 60s.

“You can’t call it anything except the hand of God a lot of what’s happened in my life,” Finley tells BGS. “For me to be recording and performing now, to have met and established a friendship with a young white guy like Dan (the Black Keys’ Dan Auerbach), and to be in the studio now recording and singing these songs when that’s what I’ve always wanted to do all my life, well it’s just God’s hand in my life.”

Robert Finley’s story is indeed a distinctive one. He was born in Winnsboro and raised in Bernice, Louisiana, and the lure of music was such he began playing the guitar at 11, purchasing one from a thrift store in town. “I remember hearing the gospel singers and people like James Brown,” he continues. “Singing is what I wanted to do from the time I was a kid, but as far as traveling and visiting places and doing some of what I’m doing now, no there’s no way I ever thought I’d be able to do that.”

One of eight children, Finley grew up in the Jim Crow South. His family were sharecroppers, and Finley was often working with his family in the fields picking cotton. When he got the chance, he attended a segregated school, but dropped out in the 10th grade to get a job. Now, at 67 years old, his voice has a power and authority that come from voicing experiences many only read about in history books.

The title of his third LP is definitive: Sharecropper’s Son, released in May on Easy Eye Sound. One of its singles, “Country Boy,” describes how Finley grew up. That’s working hard for little gain, carving out a life in less than desirable situations, yet never letting hardships or tough times overcome a burning desire to succeed. The video for the single was shot in the Louisiana fields where his family worked. The lyrics illuminate not only the backdrop of small town and rural segregation, but also highlight other places that have influenced and shaped his life.

Another important aspect of Finley’s life was his time in the service. His military tenure began in 1970, when he joined the Army to serve as a helicopter technician in Germany. But once more due to circumstances he again credits to divine intervention, the Army band needed a guitarist. He ended up accompanying the band throughout Europe until he was discharged, where he returned home to Louisiana. He initially split time between his other love, carpentry, and heading a spiritual group called Brother Finley and the Gospel Sisters. But then he was deemed legally blind and forced to retire as a carpenter.

“Once again, I have to give credit where it’s due to God, because who knew that anyone had ever heard of me or what I was doing in Louisiana,” Finley says, marveling at the fact that the Music Maker Relief Foundation discovered him before a 2015 date in Arkansas. They were thrilled by his sound and helped start a new phase of his career, with Finley appearing on tours with such blues vocalists as Alabama Slim and Robert Lee Coleman. Subsequently the title track of his debut album Age Don’t Mean a Thing celebrated what was essentially an artistic rebirth, and that 2016 LP attracted widespread critical attention.

A big part of that was due to Finley’s raw, fresh delivery, one clearly steeped in the blend of spiritual and secular elements that comprise classic soul, yet vibrant, dynamic and contemporary rather than a retro reflection mimicking past greats. Finley wrote most of the material and was backed by members of the Bo-Keys. Shortly after the LP, he met Auerbach, forging a musical and personal kinship that remains strong to this day.

“To think I would meet someone like Dan, a young guy with the soul and skill of the old-timers,” Finley continues. “Man, I couldn’t believe it when I first heard him play, and when we started talking about music, how quickly we connected and we still do.” Their first project was an original soundtrack for the Z2 Comics’ graphic novel Murder Ballads. Later came Finley’s second LP, Goin’ Platinum, produced by Auerbach. Finley would also appear on Auerbach’s Easy Eye Sound Revue tour, and later do his own series of shows on a world tour.

Then came something Finley describes as a “dream happening.” He was a 2019 contestant on America’s Got Talent, though he was eliminated in the semi-final round. But before that his tune “Get It While You Can” was released in a sneak peek that generated even more interest, to the point Sharecropper’s Son has been eagerly anticipated.

Its lead single “Souled Out on You” depicts the end of a relationship and describes in vivid fashion the ups and downs that eventually caused what was initially seen as a great thing to end. But its essence is Finley’s life story, something he says “I was really ready to tell. Dan and the people he had in the studio were perfect for what I wanted to say. It’s almost like they knew it like I did, and it was really something sitting in that studio and being surrounded by that talent.”

The session’s musical excellence would be expected from a band of this caliber, with guitar assistance coming from Auerbach, Mississippi blues ace Kenny Brown and fellow Louisiana native Billy Sanford, as well as pedal steel player Russ Pahl. With Bobby Wood on keyboards, bassists Nick Movshon, Eric Deaton, and Dave Roe, legendary drummer Gene Chrisman, percussionist Sam Bacco and a full horn section on board, the various songs’ backgrounds, arrangements and solos are outstanding. Auerbach, Finley, Wood, and Pat McLaughlin shared compositional duties.

Given Finley’s history, it wouldn’t be unfair to think at some point there might be either some regret or bitterness expressed regarding events or personalities in his past. But nothing could be further from the reality. Robert Finley is one of the most upbeat, optimistic people you could ever hope to meet, and that resilience and formidable spirit can be heard in his singing, and is reaffirmed in the final things he says to end our interview.

“Yes, I still live in Bernice,” he concludes. “Why would I go anywhere else? I know these people and know this area. Both the places where I was born and grew up in now have Robert Finley Days and they gave me keys to the town. You really can’t beat that. I’ve lived long enough to be able to do what I love and make a good living. That’s the best of the many blessings I’ve gotten from the good Lord, along with meeting Dan and being able to tell the world my story.”


Photo credit: Alysse Gafkjen

On ‘Smoke From the Chimney,’ Tony Joe White’s Storytelling Lives On

There’s some serious sleight of hand going on with Tony Joe White’s new album, Smoke From the Chimney. Well, sleight of sound, really.

Listening, you can easily picture the sessions: the musicians playing together with White, taking cues from him as they spin out a tableau of characters and scenes that flow as if they were chapters in a book. It’s the latest volume in a legacy of witty, gritty songs stretching back more than 50 years to “Polk Salad Annie,” “Willie and Laura Mae Jones,” and “Rainy Night in Georgia.”

And leading it all with a sly grin is the Swamp Fox himself, as he’s known, with his still-strong, speak-sing baritone voice echoing his origins in the tiny town of Goodwill, Louisiana — a barely-there dot on the map a bit east of Shreveport.

Only one thing.

These sessions were done in the summer of 2019, a year after White died of a heart attack at age 75. Producer Dan Auerbach built the record around basic vocal-and-guitar demos that White had made over a period of years before he died. The illusion, though, is by design.

“I approached it very much the same way I would have any other album we do here,” Auerbach says from his Easy Eye Sound studio in Nashville. “I hired a band and we played live. And instead of Tony being in the room, he was in the headphones with us. You are hearing performances.”

He pauses.

“I’ve had people in the room that were less ‘there’ than Tony Joe was!” he says, laughing heartily.

The results are vibrant, a lovingly made set bringing out the full richness of White’s signature storytelling, steeped in his singular brew of soul, blues, rock and backwoods boogie. It’s the kind of stuff that over the decades led to his songs being recorded by dozens, from Elvis Presley to Waylon Jennings to Dusty Springfield to Tina Turner, but which had something extra when sung by White himself.

It’s not the only bit of deception going on in the album. There’s the matter of some of the most moving, affecting songs in the set. Take “Over You,” a heartwarming-turned-heart-wrenching ballad of love and loss. White sings touchingly of a relationship that started as friends at 7 years old, later growing into romance and a wonderful life together — until the woman, his soulmate, became ill and died.

Only one thing. Again.

“That’s not true,” says Jody White, the son of Tony Joe and, if you would have it from the song, the woman who died.

“No,” he says in a separate interview from his Nashville home. “My mom is still alive.”
In fact, Tony Joe White and Leann White were married in 1964, raised three kids and were together until the day he died. “And they didn’t meet when they were 7,” Jody says. “There’s nothing true about ‘Over You.’”

It’s as big a whopper as the record-size widemouth bass that mercilessly taunts its would-be conqueror in “Bubba Jones,” another highlight of the new album. But even Jody, who at 46 has spent his whole life surrounded by his dad’s work and became his manager 20 years ago, could get sucked in to the depth of the song.

“That’s the great thing about Tony,” he says. “He’d write these songs and you’re like, ‘Oh man. Poor guy!’ Like he must have been going through it now.”

This is nothing new. There’s a lot of did-it-really-happen running though his vast, vaunted catalog. “There was a ‘Rainy Night in Georgia,’” Jody says, noting at least some truth behind the song his dad wrote, which was a big hit for soul singer Brook Benton in 1970. “But a lot of his best songs are just fictional tales. Sometimes you can’t differentiate. ‘Polk Salad Annie,’ is that a real girl or not? And ‘Over You’ is kind of the same thing.”

Smoke from the Chimney, in both the songs and sound, builds on a resurgence that started in the early 2000s when, after laying low some, White had resumed touring and recording, finding enthusiastic receptions among both older fans and new ones. Auerbach, now 41, was among the latter. “I was a little bit of a latecomer to his music,” Auerbach says. “But as soon as I heard his original version of ‘Rainy Night in Georgia,’ I was hooked.”

Having established himself both as half of the Black Keys and as an in-demand producer (his extensive credits include Yola, Valerie June, Ray LaMontagne, Lana Del Rey, the Gibson Brothers, and dozens more), Auerbach started pushing to produce a Tony Joe album years ago.

“Dan and I met probably 15 years ago,” Jody says. “And he said, ‘For the last 10 years I’ve been wanting to produce a Tony Joe White record.’ And it just didn’t happen. He only co-wrote with a few people, like Jamey Johnson. They would come out to the farm and sit by the fire with him. That sort of thing. He wasn’t going to go to a studio and collaborate with someone. It just wasn’t what he did.”

Even after Auerbach moved from Ohio to Nashville a while back, it still didn’t work out. “We did get a chance to meet, though,” Auerbach says. “We were on tour with the Black Keys and we were both on a festival in Australia. Hung out backstage. I played his Strat. We hung out and talked. Pretty awesome, actually.”

When Tony Joe White died, Jody’s job changed, he says, “from ‘What are we going to do next?’ to ‘What did he leave behind?’” What he found was daunting. “I discovered that there was probably more unreleased music than there was released music,” he says.

Sorting through the archives, Jody found hundreds of songs put down on tape over decades of time — experiments with electronic keyboards from the 1980s among them. Some will surprise even the most devoted fans. But he was drawn to several reels from a few years before his father’s death.

“There was really no rhyme or reason why he recorded all those songs in that period of time,” he says. “Some are old, some were new. It’s all over the place. But it was weird how they all lined up.”

In July 2019, he texted Auerbach the demo of the song “Smoke From the Chimney.” Auerbach loved it and asked for more. “I sent him probably 11 songs and he said, ‘They’re all perfect.’ My dad knew what he was doing when he recorded those songs together.”

The timing was perfect, too. Auerbach had an unexpected break in his normally crammed schedule, and about four weeks later he told Jody he had most of the songs finished. “I’ve never seen anything happen so fast,” Jody says.

Auerbach says it was simply a natural fit for him and his label, Easy Eye Sound, which is releasing the album. “He embodies everything I’ve tried to do, and everything Easy Eye is,” he says. “It’s steeped in what he was about — diversity and the love of music, of all kinds. He so obviously loved so much music. Diversity and soul. That’s what he had. Boy. Some people just got it, you know?”

It’s a mission for him.

“I’m figuring out the big part of the reason you find people who didn’t know about Tony Joe,” Auerbach says. “Tony Joe had no category, which made it hard for labels to market him. Calling him swamp-rock doesn’t do him justice. Country doesn’t do him justice. Calling him blues doesn’t do him justice. Which is maybe why we need to tell his story a little bit louder.”

That’s played out through the wide emotional and musical range of the nine songs he picked. From the wistful title track to the swamp-voodoo chooglin’ of “Boot Money” and the campfire-side “Scary Stories” to the border ballad “Del Rio You’re Making Me Cry.” The achingly evocative “Someone Is Crying” is arguably the album’s sentimental peak, with strings swelling over the story of a young girl walking into the sunset after seeing her village burn.

With the band he assembled, Auerbach threaded that diversity of material together, consciously connecting, or transcending, genres. There are slide guitars (some by him, some by Marcus King) and steel (Paul Franklin) — a little touch of George Harrison here (the title song), Duane Allman and Dickie Betts there (“Listen to Your Song”). There’s Ray Jacildo’s Hammond B3 organ, a foundation for a wealth of Southern traditions touched on throughout.

On that ensemble he hangs such touches as the background vocals by Mireya Ramos and Shae Fiol of the all-women mariachi ensemble Flor de Toloache and evocative fiddles by Ramos and veteran Stuart Duncan on “Del Rio You’re Making Me Cry;” the strings on “Someone Is Crying” are the work of Matt Combs. Ultimately, it’s all there to illustrate the stories White tells.

Speaking of… there’s the closing “Billy,” a farewell to a life of drifting and to a lifelong friend “just like a brother to me.”

That has to be real.

“Didn’t happen,” Jody says of the song that’s the oldest on the album, having been recorded by Waylon Jennings back in the 1970s. “My mom and I were laughing about that. She came over and listened and she is like, ‘I don’t know how he makes this stuff up.’ She and I were speculating over who Billy could possibly be. And he was never homeless, walking the streets. None of it happened. None of it ever happened.”


Photo credit: Jim Marshall (black and white); Leann White (color)

Dan Auerbach, ‘Up on a Mountain of Love’

It’s February again — i.e. the time of year when we all must grin and bear it as the supermarket aisles fill with heart-shaped candies, pink marshmallows, and cheesy cards. Valentine’s Day can be sweet for a class of third graders, but downright silly for the rest of us, regardless of relationship status. Suddenly, restaurants offer $100 prix fixe menus, and love is supposed to be somehow equal to a box of only mildly tasty chocolates. In truth, the holiday is often as disappointing as a stray orange cream we return to the wrapper, half-eaten.

The true plus of the season, however, is the perk of new love songs. Dan Auerbach, whose delightful 2017 release, Waiting on a Song, was full of lush and trippy melodic tracks inspired by gauzy ’70s rock, certainly has one up his sleeve: “Up on a Mountain Of Love,” a jangly folk ode to infatuation dripping with notes of the Beatles’ Rubber Soul. It’s not complicated, the way good love songs (and, perhaps, good relationships) are, and far from the gritty reverb of his duo, the Black Keys. “With my head in the clouds, I think I’ll stick around,” Auerbach sings sweetly, tempering innocence with a bit of hidden mischief. It may not be enough to convince the doubters that Valentine’s Day is a holiday worthy of its rank in the grocery store aisles, but it’s a much better surprise than a box of stale Russell Stover candies. And one that will be just as palatable after everything else has gone stale.