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Post by mitchfit on Jul 3, 2015 22:01:59 GMT
WHO'S A LIGHTNIN' HOPKINS FAN, THEN?
mitchfit
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Post by Pickers Ditch on Jul 4, 2015 17:19:55 GMT
WHO'S A LIGHTNIN' HOPKINS FAN, THEN? mitchfit "You didn't think I'd do that? ha ha" Priceless footage from my yoof and one of my favourites of all time.
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Post by AlanB on Jul 5, 2015 13:43:37 GMT
Here's a review, by Ron Weinstock, of a book published 5 years ago concerning the life and blues of Mr. Hopkins.
Lightning’ Hopkins: His Life and Blues Alan Govenar Chicago Review Press 2010: 368 Pages
One of the blues most iconic artists, Sam “Lightnin’” Hopkins, is the subject of a welcome new biography from writer and photographer Alan Govenar. Govenar has written a number of books including “Texas Blues : The Rise of a Contemporary Sound,” as well as a musical “Blind Lemon Blues,” that has been performed Off-Broadway. Hopkins was celebrated during his life for his ability to spin songs seemingly out of the blue, for his sometimes acerbic commentary on people, the relationships between men and women and current events, while performing for two very different audiences, the urban working class folk that bought his commercial recordings and frequented the bars in Houston’s black community and the white audience that was first introduced to his music during the folk revival and later when he became one of the most respected performers on the blues circuit from the sixties through his death in 1982.
Hopkins was born in rural Centreville, Texas. At the time Texas was pretty racist, with lynchings happening far too frequently. In this world, life was rough and hard and often violent. Hopkins’ dad was shot to death over a card game when he was three. Shortly thereafter his oldest brother, John Henry left because he would have killed the man who shot their dad. He grew up in a world of country suppers and square dances, and had to share in the farm work. he learned to play guitar as well as dance as a youngest and this enabled him to give up the hard life of farm work. Relying on interviews of those who knew the young Hopkins, as well as Hopkins’ own recollections (some were issued on one of the many recordings he made), Govenar shows the develop of the young artist who would spend time with Blind Lemon Jefferson and Texas Alexander. Alexander was a particularly important person for Hopkins and their travels together would be reflected in some of his repertoire.
Hopkins would settle into Houston whose Black Community had a varied night life ranging from the upscale El Dorado Ballroom Club to neighborhood bars for the working and country folks. It was the later venues that Lightnin’ would play at. To middle and upper-level residents of the Third Ward, he was likely invisible. Then he was discovered by Lola Cullum, who had discovered Amos Milburn and had taken the pianist out to California where he recorded for Aladdin Records in 1946. As a follow-up to Milburn’s success she brought Hopkins and pianist Wilson “Thunder’ Smith to record. While Hopkins played on Smith’s “Rocky Mountain Blues,”, Hopkins on acoustic guitar, Smith on piano and a drummer, he recorded “Katie Mae Blues,” and “Mean Old Twister.” It was at the session that Cullum nicknamed Hopkins Lightnin’. These recordings would start one of the most prolific recording careers in blues history and were unusual in the use of acoustic guitar, since Hopkins played electric on nearly every recording he made until he recorded during the folk revival when some producers insisted (based on some false notion of authenticity), that he play acoustic. Not all did so, as Chris Strachwitz who started Arhoolie Records in part because of Hopkins. Strachwitz had been a fan of Hopkins juke box recordings and would record Hopkins using electric guitar for the recordings that would be issued on Arhoolie as well as some he made for other labels such as Poppy (later reissued on Tomato).
Govenar tracks Hopkins’ recordings after his initial Aladdin sides, through he recordings at Bill Quinn’s studio for Gold Star and other labels, Bobby Shad, the Herald label and then Mack McCormick who was first to record Hopkins for the folk music market, followed by Samuel Charters, Strachwitz and others. Hopkins, like his contemporary John Lee Hooker, was one who would record for any label willing to pay him, and he insisted in being paid in cash which may relate to Hopkins having minimal education and essentially being illiterate as well as a general mistrust of whites. So he would insist on cash payments, and eschew royalties. Then he would complain he was underpaid by the record company, while asserting he received substantial cash payments.
Govenar traces Hopkins’ career as a recording artist and performing artist, noting the changing nature of those who booked and managed him. Mixed in are accounts of his performances including recollections of those who saw his performances and his differing persona for his two different audiences, who related to his music in fundamentally different fashions. The interaction between Lightnin’ and those watching him at the Third War neighborhood bars was far different from the restrained, but attentive white audiences that proved to much more financially lucrative. While Hopkins had a guarded personality, he does flesh out some of his personality as well as provides a cogent discussion of Lightnin’s songs and music, ranging from his ability to spin songs out of current events to his development of “Mr. Charlie,” which with his spoken introduction, became a staple of his performance.
“Lightnin’ Hopkins: His Life and Blues” is a celebration of Hopkins’ life and music. There are a couple of minor factual errors. There is a reference to a performance at Toronto’s New Yorker Theatre which John Hammond opened as being in 1978, but unless this was a repeat booking, I am certain this show was in 1977 because I was living in Buffalo and went with my friend Paul to catch this show, one of the two chances I had to see him perform. In 1978 I was living in the New York area, and did not return to Toronto until 1984. Also Terry Dunn, the owner of Tramps, was remembered as a Texan but in fact was an Irish immigrant whose origins would be hard to miss. Still these are minor errors and do not detract from the invaluable biography Govenar has provided us.
In addition to extensive endnotes and a selected bibliography, Andrew Brown and Alan Balfour have contributed a fifty page discography of Hopkins extensive recording career which includes much new information including correcting the identity of the steel guitarist who recorded with Hopkins in 1949 for Gold Star. It was Hop Wilson, not Frankie Lee Sims as long suggested, who can be heard on “Jail House Blues,” and “‘T’ Model Blues.” In addition to Govenar’s narrative, this discography ensures that this will be the standard reference on Hopkins for years to come. In summary, this is an invaluable addition to the blues. Ron Weinstock JazzBlues 328, August 2010
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Post by AlanB on Jul 6, 2015 6:06:51 GMT
Whilst I think of it here's a review of the double Hopkins CD set released by Ace to coincide with publication of the book.
LIGHTNIN’ HOPKINS: His Blues Ace CDCH2 1259 (Two CDs: 69:44; 75:48) CD One: Lightnin’s Boogie/ Jake Head Boogie/ Shotgun Blues/ European Blues/ Katie Mae Blues/ Sugar Mama (Sugar On My Mind)/ Howling Wolf Blues/ Miss Me Blues (You’re Gonna Miss Me/ Let Me Play With Your Poodle/ Zolo Go (Zydeco)/ Jazz Blues/ Short-Haired Woman/ Tim [sic] Moore’s Farm/ One Kind Of Favor/ Tap Dance Boogie/ Coffee Blues/ Policy Game/ Ain’t No Monkey Man/ Give Me Central/ My Little Kewpie Doll (Bad Boogie)/ I’m Wild About You Baby/ Moanin’ Blues/ Highway Blues/ The Foot Race Is On/ Early Mornin’ Boogie (Hear Me Talkin’)/ Hopkins’ Sky Hop CD Two: Mojo Hand/ Coon Is Hard To Catch/ Happy Blues For John Glenn/ Ida Mae/ Meet You At The Chicken Shack/ I Got Tired/ Trouble In Mind/ Leave Jike Mary Alone/ Baby Please Don’t Go/ Bud Russell Blues/ Tom Moore Blues/ Slavery Time/ Black Cadillac/ I’m Gonna Build Me A Heaven Of My Own/ Sinner’s Prayer/ Long Way From Home/ Change My Way Of Livin’/ Up On Telegraph Avenue
This has been issued as a tie in with Alan Govenar’s new book Lightnin’ Hopkins His Life and Blues, which also includes a new discography by Andrew Brown and Alan Balfour. The notes take the form of a time-line extracted from Govenar’s book and annotated with specific details related to the recordings included. Govenar had a hand in the compilation. The first disc covers 1947 to 1959, and the second 1960 to 1969, though neither is in chronological order. This is on Ace after all!
The decision to shuffle seems particularly inept in a compilation of this kind, tied as it is to a strictly chronological note. Lightnin’s first recording does appear but is track 5 and what a debut it was. “You know, some folks say she must be a Cadillac, But I say she must be a T-Model Ford.” Be warned that the dates on the back insert are issue dates and you need to consult the discography really to find out what you’re getting.
Division into two chronologically separated discs does preserve a distinction between records wholly or mainly aimed at Lightnin’s original audience, and those mainly aimed at collectors. Disc One, which otherwise concludes in 1954, includes one of Mack McCormack’s 1959 Tradition recordings (The Foot Race Is On), but these are a folklorist’s documentation rather than a producer’s speculation in search of a market and therefore aimed at maintaining the same “authentic” sound. The reversion to acoustic guitar seems less significant now than it probably did then.
Brown and Balfour note that many of Lightnin’s recordings were reissued after 1959 “with added reverb to disguise their age,” and that these doctored masters have persisted into the CD era, but not here. This issue uses original sources to restore the original fidelity. Even the tracks from Sittin’ In With are free from added distortion. Incredible levels of reverb are maintained on the 1961 hunting song ‘Coon Is Hard To Catch’. Presumably it is on the original VeeJay LP (I can’t check). Alan Balfour thinks the echo here is actually worse than on the British Stateside LP and it renders the vocal almost unlistenable in parts. Fortunately the instrumental part is undistorted. What price authenticity?
I find that last time I was asked to review a Hopkins disc for B&R I resorted to saying that 99% of readers would already know that these Hopkins recordings are as good as it gets, and I really don’t know what else to say. I doubt that there is such a thing as a bad or even an unsatisfactory, Lightnin’ disc from the forties or the fifties.
Some tracks stand out for not being by vocal and guitar. Thunder Smith on piano is always good news. More startling is ‘Zolo Go’ on which Lightnin’ accompanies on electric organ. There is no doubt that what he is actually singing is the word we now transcribe as “Zydeco.” The old maid who wants to play with her companion’s poodle in 1947 now wants to go to the Zydeco dance. There is some evidence here that the original meaning of ‘Zydeco’ may have been the same as the original meaning of ‘jazz’, which is what ‘Jazz Blues’ is about. “You can jazz me baby, and everything will be okay.” L.C. Williams tap dances on ‘Tap Dance Boogie’, always a favourite of mine. The final “Race” sessions for Decca and Herald have added bass, Donald Cook in both cases, and drums. Both drummers, Connie Kroll and Ben Turner, are excellent though their approaches are very different. The final two tracks on CD One are drum-heavy dancers, and utterly exhilarating.
CD Two is inevitably less essential, or at least a more arbitrary selection. Highlights include the faintly satirical ‘Happy Blues For John Glenn’ (“Half a million dollars made him feel so well, He got to eating his lunch and couldn’t hardly tell”) with Buster Pickens on piano. ‘Trouble In Mind’ from Newport 1965 is a reversion to solo performance. It is the first of three live solo performances. His only recording of ‘Jike Mary’ memorialises his affair with novelist J.J. Phillips. “She was only my friend, you know she would drink her wine whilst I would drink my gin.” ‘Baby, Please Don’t Go’ is from the 1964 AFBF.
The greater length of these recorded-for-LP tracks sometimes enables a mesmerising groove to be set up. Hopkins’s inspiration is well up to the extended solo space available. On the other hand, the moody ‘I Got Tired’, and also ‘I’m Gonna Build Me A Heaven’ to which no men will be admitted, are done no favours by the irrelevantly overdubbed bass and drums by jazzers Leonard Gaskin and Herbie Lovelle, even if they were recorded by Rudy Van Gelder. They must have been as bored as they sound. The contrast with the tight and involved bands heard on the Bluesville recordings couldn’t be greater. The lumbering accompaniment on ‘Long Way From Home’, reckoned the best of a chaotic 1968 session for Jewel, is something else again, despite playing excellent in itself from Wild Child Butler and Elmore Nixon. I guess the drummer is unidentified for purely diplomatic reasons. Three tracks come from Arhoolie 1034 (1967), a context in which he was free to express thoughts not fitting for the juke box. There is time too for reflection, both vocal and instrumental, and this is the principal added dimension here. “One thousand years my people was slaves. When I was born they teach me this way: Tip your hat to the peoples, be careful, son, about what you say.” (‘Slavery Time’) “You know the next time the boss man hit me, I’m going give him a big surprise. I ain’t joking neither.” (‘Bud Russell Blues’).
The two final 1969 sides take Lightnin’ into new territory, a personalised religious song “Change my way of livin’, believe I’m gonna join the church again”, and a topical song about hippies and happenings in San Francisco. He quickly relates the Telegraph Avenue scene to his usual concerns: “I look at them little pretty hippies, their dress so short. I said ‘Ooh yes, look at that little girl walk’.” “Look-a-here, woman, you gonna make a weed-smoker out of me.” Brownie McGhee gets a namecheck.
This is a good selection for anyone who inexplicably wants only a sampler from Lightnin’s earlier work and even the others will welcome the uncommonly good reproduction. This is just as well because they will have to get it anyway as ‘Ain’t No Monkey Man’ is one of the three unissued Hopkins recordings which Ace have identified in their Specialty holdings. It reverts to a very old concern, “Every man wear duckins, you know he ain’t no monkey man.” Back in 1925, Floyd Campbell made the same point about bell-bottom britches. This is the longest track on CD One, emphasising the extent to which the issued material was tailored to juke boxes, which is reflected in occasional chaotic sudden endings.
Everything about the presentation is first-rate and both CDs are well-filled. Howard Rye Blues & Rhythm August 2010
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Post by AlanB on Jul 9, 2015 8:43:23 GMT
As it's Thursday I'll carry on the Hopkins with this which I obtained many decades ago. Maybe of interest. Somewhere I also have a 1962-3 Prestige LH royalty statement. (click image to zoom) Attachments:
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Post by mitchfit on Jul 9, 2015 23:17:37 GMT
since nobody guessed---the DeKalb, TX concert was Elvis Presley.
mitchfit
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Deleted Member
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Post by Deleted on Jul 10, 2015 1:02:18 GMT
I knew that was Elvis...looks like Scotty on guitar...I didn't know it was a guessing contest....
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Post by mitchfit on Jul 10, 2015 13:34:46 GMT
..."looks like Scotty on guitar"...
like ourselves, much younger then!
mitchfit
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Post by slide496 on Jul 16, 2015 18:46:49 GMT
Louisiana Red 1987 ...
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Post by AlanB on Jul 23, 2015 10:03:35 GMT
And now for something completely different for a Thursday. This was purchased on a school day out in Paris in 1962. Attachments:
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Post by Michael Messer on Jul 23, 2015 11:21:07 GMT
Alan, that is beautiful!
Shine On Michael
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Post by AlanB on Jul 31, 2015 6:21:05 GMT
I wasn't around yesterday so unable to "throw anything back". Anybody for Wild Child Butler? Did I hear a "w-h-o"?
The Devil Made Me Do It (These Mean Old Blues on Bullseye)
"Billy Bizee, my cousin, I play with him mostly and there's a kid I seen at the Sputnik (a bar in Houston) 'Wile Chile' (sic) they call him. I might get to play with him. He's southern style like Nix, not Chicago like the other fella. You know what I'm talkin' about?”
Thus Lightnin' Hopkins gave his verdict on harmonica players to journalist Max Jones in 1964. The "other fella", so disparagingly referred to, was Sonny Boy Williamson and "Nix," Hammie Nixon, Sleepy John Estes' longtime harmonica player, both of whom were appearing with Hopkins at the American Folk Blues Festival. Quite a testimonial for the then unknown and anonymous, "Wild Child" Butler.
Born George Butler in Autaugaville, Alabama on October 1st, 1936, he was given the nickname of "Wild Child" by his mother due to his early unruly behaviour and, like most born into a sharecropping environment, his formative years were divided between school and helping his parents pick produce. When he was twelve he was shown the rudiments of the harmonica by a family friend. Within a couple of years the desire to play blues beset him and he left home to forge a career as a blues musician in Montgomery, Alabama.
Wild Child’s first break in his chosen career of bluesman came in the late fifties when he won a talent contest which resulted in him forming his own trio to play local venues. In the mid-sixties he self-financed the recording of four songs at the Hill & Vaughan studios in Montgomery, two of which subsequently appeared on the Shaw label. Following a move to Chicago in 1966, he signed a contract with the Shreveport based Jewel Records for whom he cut a couple of dozen blues, of which only a handful saw commercial release. There followed a session for Mercury, but due to distribution problems, the resultant album failed to get the sales it rightly deserved. His next release, Funky Butt Lover, recorded for TK In 1976, suffered a similar fate but fortunately Butler had the good sense to keep the tapes.
For the past decade Wild Child Butler has continued to work from his new base in Ontario, Canada, but surprisingly, these Mike Vernon-produced recordings represent the first for fifteen years. All original compositions, the numbers reinforce the promise of earlier recordings. His imaginative and, at times, revealing lyrics are worthy of those of his mentor, Lightnin' Hopkins. Wild Child’s at his lyrical best on slow blues like "It's A Pity," which incorporates references to the Iraq conflict as well as telling the young to "go out and face reality and try to make it on their own." His Howlin' Wolf inspired vocal on "Crack House Woman" adds an air of menace to Gerry Gaughan's lyric that warns, "She'll break your heart, clean out your pockets too, she'll laugh and kid you just for something to do," while the bragging, "Devil Made Me Do It," echoes Muddy Waters' "I'm Ready," with such bravado as, "I went up town to raise a little hell, I found myself in the county jail." Perhaps as a recognition of past successes and influences the catchy "These Mean Old Blues," uses the tempo of his Jewel recording, "40 Year Old Woman," while the "country style" harmonica on "Walkin' The Little Girl Home," originally written by Butler In 1954, superbly illustrates the downhome technique that so impressed Lightnin' Hopkins all those years ago.
"My life’s been one uphill fight" sings Butler in one of his blues. Let's hope that the release of this disc will speed Wild Child Butler to the summit of that blues hill he's been climbing these thirty years. Alan Balfour (Blue Horizon CDBLUH 014, 1991/Bullseye BB 9518, 1992)
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Post by AlanB on Jul 31, 2015 8:15:10 GMT
A bit of routing around on my computer turned up this short and sweet review.
WILD CHILD BUTLER The Devil Made Me Do It Blue Horizon CDBLUH 014 Compact Disc
These Mean Old Blues/Give Me An Answer/ Anyone Can Say They Love You/Crack House Woman/Walkin' The Little Girl Home/The Devil Made Me Do It/It's A Pity/No One Woman's Man! It's A Sin To Be A Thief/My Woman's Been Misled/(Baby) Do Your Thing
Old Wild Child is not an artist who has been over represented in the Wight collection (and at that my Polydor copy of his Jewel sides seems to have walked). Personally speaking, he was one of the big surprises of the Redcar bash, warm vocals, expressive harp work, and on the evidence of our all¬ too brief backstage chat, a real gentleman.
This Mike Vernon produced CD is Wild Child's first recording since his TK session of 15 years ago and is long overdue. Of the 11 songs, eight are Butler compositions, the other three are by Gerry Gaughan.
"Mean Old Blues' kicks off, moving along at a medium tempo, with Pete Boss on guitar taking the solo. "Give Me An Answer", menacing vocal, hints of Howling Wolf. The threatening "Crack House Woman": ' If you mess with the crack house woman /All your money will be gone"
Just a sprinkling of Buddy Guy by axeman Boss adds a piquant edge to the flavour. Keep well away from that broad Wild Child!
'Little Girl", a Wild Child solo, is very reminiscent of something Sonny Boy did for Storyville back in the early Sixties, downhome but very effective.
Real knockout is the cheekily exuberant title track it really cracks along; as they say; Auld Nick always has the best songs. The acid test of a blues singer is the ability to sound really convincing and hold to¬gether a slow blues, Butler does both admirably on
"Pity". Real class. Pounding drums drive 'Thief' along effectively in a Louisiana vein. "Do Your Thing. sounds contemporary, though there is nothing con¬temporary about its message: "Shake a wicked yas yas yas".
Eleven damn fine songs, lyrically sound. not a duff one among them. Wild Child has produced as good an effort as anything I've heard recently. It's nice to hear some downhome sounds for a change, instead of the spate of slick European and reptilian issues. If Wild Child can continue cutting sessions as good as this then this reputation will be assured. He really deserves it, and if there is any justice then he should profit from this issue. Please check this CD out. Phil Wight (Blues & Rhythm 64, October 1991, p. 24)
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Post by AlanB on Aug 6, 2015 5:06:40 GMT
I came across these couple of photos I took in 1968 at the 1st National Blues Convention held at Conway Hall, London. I thought it might make a fun Thursday Throwback for folk to identify who is who. Attachments:
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Post by slide496 on Aug 13, 2015 11:41:58 GMT
Last show.
R.I.P. Fred McDowell:
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