[15] Country Blues |
|
Fattening Frogs For Snakes
|
Wednesday, 28 December 2005 10:35 |
Country Blues
for Rockin' Jake & T.J. Wheeler
"You want to remember," Mississippi Fred McDowell says, "that back in the 20s & 30s, they didn't have
nothin' to do but farm & nowhere to go on a Saturday night but to what you'd call a fish fry.
There was no picture show or TV or nothin', just nowhere else to go."
2
David "Honey Boy" Edwards was raised on a farm between Cleveland & Leland, Mississippi. "On Saturday,"
Honey Boy told Robert Palmer, "somebody like me or Robert Johnson would go into one of those little towns,
play for nickels & dimes. Some little towns, you'd have to go and see the mayor or the judge
& ask him if you could play on the streets. Some of 'em would say, 'No, crowds on the streets,
somebody might get hurt. And sometimes, you know, you could be playin' & have such a big crowd
it would block the whole street. Then the police would come around, & I would go on
to another town where I could play at. But, most of the time, they would let you play.
3
"Then sometimes," Honey Boy relates, "the man who owned a country store would give us something like a
couple dollars to play on a Saturday afternoon. We'd sit in the back of the store
on some oat sacks or corn sacks & play while they sold groceries & whiskey & beer up front,
& the people would come in & listen to us & pitch in. In the afternoon or maybe in the evenin',
we'd go to the movie theatre & play before or after the movies. Then people would start leavin' town.
4
"About 8 or 9 o'clock at night they'd go out in the country where they could make all the noise they wanted,
drink that corn, dance all night long. The people that was givin' a dance, they would put coal oil
in a bottle, put a wick in it, & hang it up in a tree. We'd follow that light
going to the dance. Maybe the man giving the dance would see you in town that afternoon & hire you
to come out & play there that night. Wasn't too much money, but we'd play, eat, drink, have a good time.
They would cook fish, sell fish sandwiches & white whiskey. Some outside gambling on an old table,
bad lights, way out in the country, you know. We'd play inside, sit down on a chair & relax.
5
"Sometimes they'd give a big picnic out in the country, dig a deep hole in the ground,
put charcoal down in that hole, put an iron grate across it, & lay down a whole hog
on that grate. They'd let that hog steam, mop it with that hot barbeque sauce, & keep it turnin' all night long. In the morning
it would be so tender you could take a fork & just cut the meat right off the bone.
They'd have whole barrels of lemonade sitting out there, some guys got 4 or 5 gallons of corn whiskey. Sometimes
they'd get a wagon, two mules, three or four men, & rent a piano in town,
haul it out there, have a platform built with a brush arbor over it, have piano & guitar playin' under there.
6
"There wasn't that many blues players, you know," Honey Boy says. "We would walk
through the country with our guitars on our shoulders, stop at people's houses, play a little music,
walk on. We might decide to go on, say, to Memphis. We could hitchhike, transfer from truck to truck,
or if we couldn't catch one of them, we'd go to the train yard, 'cause the railroad was all thru that part of the country then.
We'd wait till the train was pullin' out & jump in the second blind or else get a reefer--
that's the car they put the ice in, for fruit & stuff, so it's something like a deep freezer.
We'd get down in an empty reefer, pull the door down over us, & the handle
was inside the car, see, so couldn't nobody get to us. Then
when we were ready to come out, we'd just knock the handle up & come out. I'd walk around
the blind side of the train & come out on the passenger side,
just like I got off the passenger car, go out & catch a cab to where I'm goin'.
7
"In Memphis, you could play in front of the big hotels, sometimes in the lobbies. And in the evening you could always go down to Handy Park,
there off Beale Street. Peoples would be gettin' off work & they'd stop off at the park, get them a drink,
& listen to the blues, because some of the fellows would always be there playin'.
"From there, we might hop a freight, go to St. Louis or Chicago. Or we might hear about
where a job was payin'off-- a highway crew, a railroad job, a levee camp there along the river, or some place in the country
where a lot of people were workin' on a farm. You could go there & play, & everybody would hand you some money. I didn' have a special place then. Anywhere
was home. Where I do good, I stay. When it gets bad & dull, I'm gone. I knowed a lot of places
& had enough to go to to make it. Man, we played for a lot of people."
Detroit March 22, 1982/
New Orleans February 27/November 25, 1995
`3.1.659 |
|