4. THE JUNKER BLUES

The Junker's blues is maybe one of the most recorded New Orleans piano songs. Maybe you've heard it as The Fat Man, Tipitina or Lawdy Miss Clawdy. Each of these hits from the 50's basically share the same melody and harmonies as the original folk song which it is derived from.  

The lyrics of the Junker's blues — first recorded in 1940/41 by pianist and singer Champion Jack Dupree (photo) — could easily be mistaken for the latest trap rap song by Fetty Wap. In reality the song has become somewhat of an unofficial anthem for New Orleans piano players, many of them creating their own lyrics on the 8 bar blues form. 

Some people call me a junker

'Cause I'm loaded all the time

I just feel happy

And I feel good all the time

Some people say I use a needle

And some say I sniff cocaine

But that's the best old feelin'

That I'd ever seen

Champion Jack Dupree — who enjoyed a career as a boxer — learned the song from his mentor, Willie Hall. Willie Hall was also known as Drive 'em Down and worked as a barrelhouse pianist in the downtown wards in 1920's New Orleans including the French Quarter. Junker's blues was performed by the many pianists the neighbourhood shared. 

In his book Blue Monday: Fats Domino and the lost dawn of Rock 'n Roll' author Rick Coleman tells us ''The punch line was a pun on ordinary junk dealers, who hawked odd bits of scrap loaded onto wagons, and the ''junker'' addict who was ''loaded all the time''.  The blues was also part of the repertoire in the jailhouses of Louisiana where it was sung by actual junkies. 

In 1950's the Junker's blues took the hit charts by storm, gaining itself a spot in popular culture. Pianist and singer Fats Domino wrote his own set of lyrics, finding inspiration for the title in his personal life/shape and a famous radio show called The Fat Man. He had learned the song from his brother-in-law guitarist Harrison Verrett who had heard performances by French Quarter pianists like  'Kid' Stormy Weather (Edmond Joseph) who was also an early inspiration for Professor Longhair. The Fat Man became a major hit and launched Fats Domino's career as well as the birth of Rock 'n' Roll. 

Another famous rendition is Lloyd Price's Lawdy Miss Clawdy (1952). Being 19 years old at the time Lloyd Price wrote his own set of lyrics and recorded his song in the exact same studio with a lot of the same personell (Dave Bartholomew's band) as Fats Domino had done 3 years prior.  The session's pianist Salvador Doucette wasn't accustomed to playing the Junker's blues as he was more into modern jazz. When an unsuspecting Fats Domino turned up at the studio he was prompted to sit in and play the piano part. Lawdy Miss Clawdy found it's audience around the globe when artists like Elvis Presley, Little Richard and the Beatles started covering it. 

The beautiful thing I find about studying the New Orleans piano tradition is that the amount of connections between pianists just keeps on growing the more I spend time on it. In essence it's just one big family tree in which everything is connected.

This is also exemplified in the third and last rendition of the Junker's blues which I'll discuss here which is called Tipitina. It was recorded in 1953 by pianist and singer Professor Longhair. Most likely he must have picked it up from a pianist we have already come across in this blog; 'Kid' Stormy Weather, who was one of Professor Longhair's early influences. There are quite some different explanations on the meaning of the lyrics of Tiptina. Some people say it's imitating bird-calls, referring to reefer smoking, secret Indian language or even utter nonsense. My personal favourite is the story about a weed-selling hustler called Tina who'd tippy toe on her peg leg around the neighbourhood doing her business, resulting in Tipi + Tina. What we do know for sure though is that Professor Longhair infused the Junker's Blues with his highly personal rhumba-boogie flavored piano playing combined with the New Orleans parade beats provided by Earl Palmer (who also recorded The Fat Man and Lawdy Miss Clawdy!). With his personal style and mystique Professor Longhair has acquired somewhat of a holy status among his followers, including Dr. John and Allen Toussaint. 

2. THEY CALLED IT DUDLOW JOE...

The first thing I like to do when I find myself in a foreign city is visiting the local record shops. A couple of weeks ago this was the case in Malmö. I had a few hours to kill and the record shop located closest to me was called Musik & Konst. To my surprise, this shop was completely dedicated to Blues, Soul and R&B, selling not only the rarest CD's and vinyls but also books on the history of these styles — for a bargain. As you can imagine, I felt like a kid in a candy store.

The book I picked up there, Karl Gert zur Heide’s Deep South Piano, proved to be a gem containing loads of information. It took me through the southern states of the USA while telling me the stories of its pianists, thanks to the recollections of pianist Little Brother Montgomery. I was surprised to discover that ‘Boogie Woogie’, as we've been calling this genre for 80+ years now, was actually known under different names back then. In the Mississippi state, they called it ‘Dudlow Joe’.

The birth of Boogie Woogie can be traced back to the beginning of the 20th century. Large areas of the Deep South were wooded and hosted a large lumbering, wood-processing and turpentine industry. Traces of this can still be found in the names of towns and villages: Lumberton, Kentwood, Woodville, …. The people who worked in these industries lived in camps. They could leave on weekends, but most of the time they stayed to enjoy themselves in so-called barrelhouses and honky-tonks where they would eat, drink, gamble and dance.

A large railroad system known as the Santa Fe provided transportation of industrial goods through the whole region. By hopping on the Santa Fe trains, piano players playing the barrelhouse circuit traveled their fixed routes from camp to camp.

I find music the most authentic and touching when it reflects and expresses the sentiment of the time it was created in. Boogie woogie is no difference in this case; listen closely to the left-hand figures and right-hand melodies and you´ll hear the sound of roaring and squeaking trains moving along the Santa Fe train tracks. Even though I was born decades later, I can't help feeling a little nostalgic when hearing Honky Tonk Train Blues or Pine Tops Boogie and thinking of the solitary pianists travelling the Deep South from camp to camp, only accompanied by the sound of the trains they rode. 

The funny thing with boogie woogie is that for me, it functions as a secret weapon — let's say it's my nuclear rocket. Whether I find myself in a firefighter annual congress playing background music, an elderly home or a gynaecologist christmas buffet where everyone has their back turned to me, whenever I start that rumbling piano left hand for some reason it sends an electric shiver through the room and people suddenly start smiling and tapping their feet. When they turn their heads to me, I sheepishly smile back at them.

1. THE BALLAD OF ESQUERITA

Few have heard of piano player and singer Esquerita (1938-1986), one of the true unsung heroes in rock and roll history. I stumbled upon his name in ‘Rhythm and Blues in New Orleans’ by John Broven and when I looked up his music, a couple of things happened: my jaw dropped, I started dancing and the rest of the day I couldn’t stop smiling. Take for example his rendition of ‘Nobody wants you when you’re down and out’; there’s just too much soul in his groaning, foot-stomping, gospel piano playing and singing. Why on earth haven’t I heard of this guy before? Time for a bit of research.

Esquerita is mostly known for teaching Little Richard more than a thing or two on the delicate art of pounding the ivories. Little Richard, while recording in New Orleans at Cosimo Matassa’s, saw Esquerita perform ‘Tutti Frutti’ and recorded it — a cleaned-up version of the original. Little Richard was part of my first holy Trinity including Chuck Berry and Fats Domino. The raw energy displayed in his piano playing and singing enchanted me already at a young age. 

Esquerita (actually called Eskew Reeder) recorded for multiple labels over the years, both as a solo artist as well as a session musician. His piano and organ playing, showing strong roots in gospel and blues, can be heard on recordings with Little Richard, Jimi Hendrix, Dr. John, John Hammond, Idris Muhammad and others. 

His stage names included Magnificent Malochi, Estrelita, Eskew Reeder, and the Voola. Voola was the spirit that he believed to permeate his music. One of the most obscure and experimental singles from the rock and roll era is ‘Esquerita and the Voola’, released in 1958 by Capitol. Besides Esquerita’s thundering piano playing, he is singing in what he himself called ‘obligato’ voice — another style feature which Little Richard copied from him. 

One of the many legends surrounding Esquerita says that Berry Gordy brought him to Detroit, along with a group of fellow New Orleans musicians, to record for Motown. Gordy wanted to infuse the sound of Motown with a stronger beat and groove, which at that time could only be found in New Orleans. They played all day — with the Motown crew taking notes, obviously — but due to conflicting contracts, the session had to be stopped and to this day the recordings remain unreleased.

The following decades, Esquerita continued to perform mostly in New York clubs, slowly disappearing and falling into obscurity. If it wouldn't be for Miriam Linna and Billy Miller from Norton Records discovering him there, we would have lost one of history's greatest rock ‘n’ rollers. A small but loyal group of admirers surrounded Esquerita in his last years. He was one of the many victims of the AIDS pandemic and died in 1986, after which he was buried in an unmarked grave. 

Norton Records has done a great job at making Esquerita’s recordings available to a wider audience with their releases ‘Vintage Voola’ (1987) and ‘Sinner Man: The Lost Session’ (2012).

PS: They have T-shirts too!!