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Post by billf on Jan 4, 2014 12:53:13 GMT -5
Now listening:
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Post by AlanB on Jan 5, 2014 3:27:23 GMT -5
I've scanned this photo taken by Paul Oliver in New York July 1960 in the home of Tiny Robinson, her children, Hooker and Johnny Williams entertaining. The "bobby soxer's" are dancing to the then popular craze The Madison which they requested the two guitarists sing for them. Tiny Robinson was Leadbelly's niece. Also present was Martha Promise, aka Martha Leadbetter, Leadbelly's wife. Attachments:
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Post by Admin on Jan 5, 2014 10:49:51 GMT -5
I've scanned this photo taken by Paul Oliver in New York July 1960 in the home of Tiny Robinson, her children, Hooker and Johnny Williams entertaining. The "bobby soxer's" are dancing to the then popular craze The Madison which they requested the two guitarists sing for them. Tiny Robinson was Leadbelly's niece. Also present was Martha Promise, aka Martha Leadbetter, Leadbelly's wife. That's a great photo Alan. That says a lot about how the blues community came together in the 60s. It also goes to show that JLH wasn't always the "badass" he is reputed to be. How was JLH related to, or associated with Leadbelly?
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Post by AlanB on Jan 5, 2014 11:06:02 GMT -5
How was JLH related to, or associated with Leadbelly? None whatsoever. The gathering was "masterminded" by Larry Cohen in honour of Paul Oliver's visit, see below. THE COMPLETE JOHN LEE HOOKER DISCOGRAPHY, 1948 1992. Blues & Rhythm Publications 1992 Limited Edition 62pps, Aug 1992
INTRODUCTION by PAUL OLIVER
There had been heavy clouds and thunder rumbling all day; New York in July was uncomfortably hot and the likelihood of rain held the promise of some relief. That evening the rain came. The phone rang; it was Blind Gary Davis, saying he couldn't come. Like other blind singers who took pride in their independence he got around largely by echo location. When it rained the familiar reflected sounds were upset, and he didn't want to travel from Harlem down to Brooklyn, where we were that night. Of course we were disappointed. In the basement rumpus room we were a mixed company: our hostess was Tiny Robinson, Leadbelly's niece. Against a bookcase and a pile of 78s sat an ageing woman who looked as if she should be smoking a pipe on a Louisiana porch, She was introduced as Martha Promise with a shock of recognition I realised I was sitting next to Martha Leadbetter. She was polite, reflective, and very quiet: conversation wasn't easy, much less interviewing. The remainder of our mixed company were Lawrence Cohn (now the man behind the Robert Johnson CD set) who had arranged the gathering for us, my wife Val, myself and John Lee Hooker. Attention turned on John Lee. He was disappointed too, for he had never met Gary Davis. He fingered his guitar in a sort of extended rambling slow blues before he leaned it against the fireside tongs in the curiously English looking room. We talked, but the sparks didn't fly. I asked John if I could interview him on tape. He was very cautious even embarrassed and shook his head. He had a marked speech impediment, with frequent stutters and a plum in the mouth way of talking which, with his Mississippi accent, was difficult to understand. I pursued my request a little later and got unexpected support from Martha (who had herself declined, saying she'd got nothing to tell), and from Tiny. "No guitar, mind" cautioned John before agreeing. I had explained that the recordings were for the British Broadcasting Corporation and that there would be a standard interview fee. I asked him about his early life. Drawing his breath he spoke, carefully, deliberately: "I was livin' in a little town you call Clarksdale, Mississippi, with my dad and mother. That's where I was born, August 1917. Well then I had a stepfather and his name was William Moore and he played guitar and he taught me a little; I took my first inspirations from him... story unfolded: leaving home at the age of 12, working at the New Daisy picture show in Memphis, singing with gospel groups, moving to Detroit. He spoke of his recording and the effects on the listener that a record can have: "You can be feelin' very normal, nothin' on your mind, period. But it's somethin' on that record hits you. It hits somethin' that happened in your life ... So this is very touchable, and that develops into the blues." I asked him what gave him the blues. "There's a lot of things that give you the blues; it's somewhere down the line you have been hurt some place" he answered slowly in his deep voice, the impediment less now. "It's not only what happened to you it's what happened to your fore parents and other people. And that's what makes the blues." He drew a deep breath and exhaled his tension. I was suddenly aware of the tension we all felt; there hadn't been a sound or a movement among us. Suddenly there was a burst of applause from our little company and Martha laughed. while John Lee Hooker, aged 43, among the most famous of blues singers of the day, literally mopped his brow and sat back holding his beer can in a trembling hand. A moment later the door swung open and in burst Tiny Robinson's young bobbysoxers, all laughter and excitement, dressed in brightly coloured clothes, with in spite of the heat but because of the rain purple ear muffed caps on their heads. They had just been to a party and to demonstrate what they had been doing they began to dance. "Do the Jackie Gleason!" the girl cried, and they both waddled in a grotesque caricature. Already there was music John Lee had picked up his guitar and was playing "The Madison". Tiny Robinson's friend, Johnny Williams, who had collected them from the party joined in with back up guitar. The music stopped suddenly: "Do the Marilyn!" They minced across the floor until they collapsed in giggles, to be brought back to dancing by John's rhythmic guitar and beating foot. "The Madison" was the hit of the moment; Al Brown's Tunetoppers with Cookie Brown singing had recorded it (on Amy 804). Everyone was ready to play the novelty dance, including John Lee Hooker. But as far as I know he never recorded it, and if he had it would have been dismissed as "John Lee Hooker going commercial". Good, complete discographies can tell us much about the recordings made by blues singers, and they help us to understand and enjoy their music that much more. But discographies cannot document the whole story, not of their music, nor of their personalities, nor of their lives: records are like test samples of musical careers. It was an important lesson that I learned from John Lee Hooker on a wet July night in New York, over 30 years ago.
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Post by Admin on Jan 5, 2014 11:15:35 GMT -5
Great article...I find the part about JLH being sad about not getting to meet Blind Gary Davis. The two seemed to me to be complete opposites.
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Post by chesterburnett on Jul 19, 2014 10:09:50 GMT -5
Hi, I just found this and had to respond. The reference of George Thorogood playin Johns' One bourbon one scotch one beer altho accurate is actually half a cover by John. To explain; the original 2 tunes were Johns' House rent boogie and Amos Milburns' One scotch one bourbon one beer, which John switched the title words around. But play em both and you can hear that they are the same tune. Alot of "borrowing" of blues tunes in the 30s thru 50s went on just like this as Milburn was an Alladin records artist in California and Hooker in Detroit and Chicago so people werent as possessive of their tunes as they are today. Some artists would say,hey they playin my tune great! Blues artists not makin much money might record the same song 2 or 3 times using different names on different labels also.
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