Houston’s Little Joe Washington (April, 2008) — Image by kenne
“Personal inconvenience, experience, and environmental impact notwithstanding, a willingness to drive all over and beyond Harris County has its rewards for the Houston blues aficionado wanting to make the rounds. Not only is that travel necessary to access the various widely separated business establishments featuring live performances on a weekly basis, but for those in the know, it’s also the key to experiencing some unique presentations of the music — both of which evoke an earlier era.”
— Roger Wood (Down in Houston: Bayou City Blues, 2003)
The Blues On Campus (Lone Star College, Montgomery – 02/19/03) — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“The blues are the roots and the other musics are the fruits. It’s better keeping the roots alive, because it means better fruits from now on. The blues are the roots of all American music. As long as American music survives, so will the blues.”
London-based singer-songwriter has completed a new project,”A Common Turn.” In Clash Magazine, Jamie Wilde begins her review: “Michelle Obama once said that to “dare to be vulnerable” is to break down barriers and show others who you really are. With Anna B Savage, this quote can be applied explicitly throughout her tenderly captivating and embracingly vulnerable debut album ‘A Common Turn’.” An artist brave enough to show vulnerability . . .
Another Glass Of Wine My Dear (April 5, 2007) — Image by kenne
Have Some Medeira, M’dear
She was young, she was pure, she was new, she was nice She was fair, she was sweet seventeen. He was old, he was vile, and no stranger to vice He was base, he was bad, he was mean. He had slyly inveigled her up to his flat To view his collection of stamps, And he said as he hastened to put out the cat, The wine, his cigar and the lamps: Have some madeira, m’dear. You really have nothing to fear. I’m not trying to tempt you, that wouldn’t be right, You shouldn’t drink spirits at this time of night. Have some madeira, m’dear. It’s really much nicer than beer. I don’t care for sherry, one cannot drink stout, And port is a wine I can well do without… It’s simply a case of chacun a son gout Have some madeira, m’dear. Unaware of the wiles of the snake-in-the-grass And the fate of the maiden who topes, She lowered her standards by raising her glass, Her courage, her eyes and his hopes. She sipped it, she drank it, she drained it, she did! He promptly refilled it again, And he said as he secretly carved one more notch On the butt of his gold-headed cane: Have some madeira, m’dear, I’ve got a small cask of it here. And once it’s been opened, you know it won’t keep. Do finish it up. It will help you to sleep. Have some madeira, m’dear. It’s really an excellent year. Now if it were gin, you’d be wrong to say yes The evil gin does would be hard to assess.. Besides it’s inclined to affect me prowess, Have some madeira, m’dear. Then there flashed through her mind what her mother had said With her antepenultimate breath, “Oh my child, should you look on the wine that is red Be prepared for a fate worse than death!” She let go her glass with a shrill little cry, Crash! Tinkle! it fell to the floor; When he asked, “What in Heaven?” She made no reply, Up her mind, and a dash for the door. Have some madeira, m’dear. Rang out down the hall loud and clear With a tremulous cry that was filled with despair, As she fought to take breath in the cool midnight air, Have some madeira, m’dear. The words seemed to ring in her ear. Until the next morning, she woke in her bed With a smile on her lips and an ache in her head… And a beard in her lug ‘ole that tickled and said: Have some madeira, m’dear!
Texas Johnny Brown at Houston’s Shakespeare Pub — Photo-Artistry by kenne (Click on Texas Johnny Brown to see archived blog posting on TJB)
Texas Johnny Brown is a major talent who simmered on the blues scene longer than all the beef stew cooked in the ’40s, the decade when he first began playing and recording. Like pianist Johnny Johnson of St. Louis, Brown is an artist who did not get a chance to record a full album as a leader until he had been in the music business more than half-a-century. Also like Johnson, the results of coming in so late in the game have been a pair of highly acclaimed, prize-winning albums including the righteous Blues Defender. Brown can take plenty of the credit, since he has taken over almost complete control of his ow arranging, production, and mixing, as well as the string bending and blues moaning. He began his career as a sideman for the Duke and Peacock outfits in the ’50s about which discographers make comments such as “… the record keeping at that time was less than desirable.” As a result, some of Brown’s playing on releases by artists such as Lightnin’ Hopkins and Joe Hinton remains uncredited. The guitarist, singer, and songwriter began his professional career as an original member of the great Amos Milburn band known as the Aladdin Chickenshackers. Brown’s picking is killer on early Aladdin recordings by both Milburn, and on Ruth Brown’s first Atlantic sides. Atlantic allowed Brown to make a few recordings of his own in 1949, buoyed by the enthusiasm the label had for Milburn, who played behind his sideman on these sessions along with the rest of the Aladdin Chickenshackers. T-Bone Walker is the dominating force in Brown’s stylistic palette, an influence that was considered something of a driving permit for any guitarist venturing out of Houston during this period. Before finally getting the biggie recording opportunities in the late ’90s, Brown did an ARC session in Houston in the early ’50s that was never released. He also performed regularly with Junior Parker during that decade, remaining based out of Houston. As a songwriter, Brown’s most famous work is “Two Steps from the Blues,” a big hit for Bobby “Blue” Bland, with whom he also toured as a lead guitarist in the ’50s and ’60s. By the ’80s, he was considered only sporadically active on the blues scene, but this turned out to be only a temporary brown-out, so to speak.
Oh… (CHORUS): Shrimp boats is a-comin’ Their sails are in sight Shrimp boats is a-comin’ There’s dancin’ tonight Why don’t ‘cha hurry hurry hurry home Why don’t ‘cha hurry hurry hurry home Look here! The shrimp boats is a-comin’ There’s dancin’ tonight (Shrimp boats is a-comin’, there’s dancin’ tonight)
: They go to sea with the evenin’ tide And the women folk wave their good-bye (There they go… There they go) While the Louisiana moon floats on high And they wait for the day when they can cry…
: Happy the days while they’re mending the nets ‘Til once more they ride out to sea (There they go… There they go) Then how lonely the nights will be ‘Til that wonderful day when they sing…
: Happy the days while they’re mending the nets ‘Til once more they ride out to sea (There they go… There they go) Then how lonely the nights will be ‘Til that wonderful day when they sing…
I first asked this question ten years ago on the thirty anniversary of John Lennon’s death.
Whether asked the question or thinking to yourself, we often recall years later what we were doing when we first heard of a sad happening. With today being the 40th anniversary of John Lennon’s death, thoughts on time and place are reviewed. I was in my small apartment on a rainy, cold night, just off the campus of Western Kentucky University, where I was teaching. If I had a TV, I don’t recall because I was usually listening to music on the radio. Then, as now, music is a part of my daily existence, and the beauty of Lennon’s music is its ability to make you think and help you answer questions.
In December of 1980, Lennon had only recently turned forty, and I was about to reach the same age. We shared little besides years of life and his music. Now, forty years out, I wonder what John Lennon would be like if he were still a part of our existence. We both would be fifty years into the age Lennon, as a young flower-child rebel, famously labeled, “Never trust anyone over thirty!”
Imagine
Imagine there’s no Heaven It’s easy if you try No hell below us Above us only sky Imagine all the people Living for today
Imagine there’s no countries It isn’t hard to do Nothing to kill or die for And no religion too Imagine all the people Living life in peace
You may say that I’m a dreamer But I’m not the only one I hope someday you’ll join us And the world will be as one
Imagine no possessions I wonder if you can No need for greed or hunger A brotherhood of man Imagine all the people Sharing all the world
You may say that I’m a dreamer But I’m not the only one I hope someday you’ll join us And the world will live as one
May the spirit of John Lennon always be with us.
— kenne
“I believe in God, but not as one thing, not as an old man in the sky. I believe that what people call God is something in all of us. I believe that what Jesus and Mohammed and Buddha and all the rest said was right. It’s just that the translations have gone wrong.”
David Hidalgo, Los Lobos Guitarist — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Cortez the Killer
He came dancing across the water With his galleons and guns Looking for a new world A palace in the sun On the shore lay Montezuma With his cocoa leaves and pearls In his halls he often wondered The secrets of the worlds Oh, and his subjects gathered round him Like leaves around a tree In their clothes of many colors For the angry gods to see And the women all were beautiful And the men stood straight and strong They offered life in sacrifice So that others could go on
Hate was just a legend And war was never known The people worked together And they lifted many stones They carried them to the flat-lands And they died along the way They built up with their bare hands What we still can’t build today And I know she’s living there And she loves me to this day I can still remember when Or how I lost my way
Cortez, Cortez He came dancing across the water Cortez, Cortez
Came dancing across the water
Came dancing across the water Cortez, Cortez Dancing across the water Dancing across the water Dancing across the water Came dancing across the water Cortez, Cortez Dancing across the water Dancing across the water Dancing across the water
Chris Duarte at the Cactus Moon, Humble, Texas (January 2003) — Images by kenne
When it comes to Blues/Rock guitar players, Texas has produced some of the best. I saw Chris live several times in the late ’90s and early ’00s, and each time his performance drained me. He is very intense and emotional — literally mindblowing.
