It's been a couple of months since the last post, time for another vacation I think. I have been busy trying to finish up a cd of my originals, doing most of the recording at my home studio. If you check out my pictures http://picasaweb.google.com/jcvitte most of the gps coordinates are there. http://www.erichughesband.com Just today recieved a newletter from The Eric Hughes Band, and it seems that Eric is doing just great, many congratulations to him, and once again a huge thanks to him and Guy for a great night of music at the Superior and a memories I will always have. I sincerly hope to cross paths again with all the fine people of Tenn. and Miss. that we met.
As for now, hopefully it will be a good business year and funds will be available for another quest to the delta, because that my friends is where the true spirit of American music lives. Stay on the lookout for a website from your's truly, links to some of my music, and God willing, a cd. Until the next post, yours in the blues jc vitte

Ahhh, Beale St. It was Sunday night, we had about 12 hours left before we had to head to the airport and board our return flight, but for now, it was party time. So off we headed, in search of that aformentioned party. Unfortunately, we got a pretty late start and Beale was pretty deserted by the time we arrived. Never to be disuaded by a lite crowd, we knew this was just a bonus waiting to be awarded. We checked out a couple of places we had been Thurs, but there were no bands. So after a quick look in the door at Coyote Ugly ( I just don't get it, pretty girls but I just don't get it, maybe its a country thing), we headed back towards BB's place.We never made it that far. First we happened onto the Memphis Jazz Orchestra at Alfreds on Beale....WoW. If you ever get a chance and you like swing jazz, these guys just smoke. But, we only got see the last part of the last set, because they too were done. A couple of doors down we poked our head in the door of The Superior Bar. The duo there was on break, we looked up and down the street, decided it was time for a drink, and bellied up to the bar. First thing was a warm welcome from one of the guys in the band, then the other. Soon we were deep in conversation about Memphis, music, and the crossroads. Little did we know, these guys were the real deal in so many ways. Eric Hughes http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=68115554

is by far the most versatile, talented musician we saw while on the quest, and we saw some very talented players. We helped them close out the night, Eric was kind enough to sell Dave 2 autographed cds (both absolutely killer), drew us a map to Furry Lewis' grave, and provided us with some history about Beale we would not have heard otherwise. It seems back during prohibition, booze would be unloaded off boats at the river and would be brought to the speakeasys on Beale by way of a tunnel under all the bars. This is also how they disposed of any "bodies" of evidence if the need arose. The tunnel still exists and many of the buildings can still be reached by that route.
Well its really late, the only place pumping music is Rum Boogie just accross the street so we walked that way, not really wanting to see Dr Feelgood Potts again at the Blues Hall(next door to Rum Boogie,connected by a door), but there he was, outside calling us over. Since it was his last set too, we knew from Thurs., the set would be mostly a song he likes to call, Tip The Band! We were pleasantly surprised when 2 very attractive young ladies from Nashville made our aquantance, and we closed out the Beale St experience talking with them.

Monday we shipped the guitars, boarded a plane, and returned to where we began. Things were different, things were the same. I found a new drive, and maybe a clarity of vision about music. We spent a bunch of time talking about dreams and hopes, even though I know it sometimes takes to much energy to keep a dream alive. We can only try, because another crossroad awaits tommorrow.

The next post will be a summary of all the GPS settings. Again, thanks for reading, thanks to all the good folks of Memphis and the Mississippi Delta, we had a great time.

Peace jc

Sunday morning, bright and early (again much to Dave's dismay), we trudged down to the local Huddle House for breakfast. About the time we were expecting to be served, there was a loud crash.Dave looked at me and said "there's your ham." Dang if he wasn't right. This pretty much sums up our dining experiences outside of Memphis and Clarksdale. We just wanted Barbecue!
We headed west from Indianola, towards Holly Ridge, where Charlie Patton lies. This was a really interesting drive, we got to watch an crop duster doing his best moves, diving in and out between wires, trees, and the occasional building. Pretty impressive. The directions we had to the grave site were pretty good and of course we had the mighty GPS. I would like to visit again during spring, everything was visually dramatic, but carried the post-winter bleakness still. I can only imagine when everything is blooming it would be a grateful sensory overload. There are two other graves in this cemetery, Willie Foster and Asie Payton.
We set our GPS to point the direction for Moorhead, where the Southern Crosses the Dog. This is an engineering marvel of two railroads intersecting at a right angle. The track is still there, however only one railway still exists.This is a common destination mentioned in many early blues and work songs. The town is very interesting as well, with many buildings that have survived the years.
Morgan City is the first grave site for Robert Johnson. Okay, its really not a grave site, but a very interesting marker. I must admit, by this point in the journey, I was starting to be overwhelmed with stuff; maps, camera, books, stuff I bought, etc. So that's my excuse for reading the wrong page in my Blues Traveling book. I set off to discover RJ's grave the book said was in the back of the cemetery, near the woods. So as I was trying to find my way through the heavy brush, looking for the missing headstone, I failed to notice my next step was about to put me right in the middle of a very soft patch of ground, about the size of an old grave! I finally realized after I had sunk to ankle depth, I was sinking. No I did not scream.I did, however, move rather quickly. Mt. Zion Church outside Morgan City, not a grave site.
Next is Quito. Don't expect to find a town. This is a marked grave at Payne Chapel, just a flat stone that has the required collection of guitar picks and Robert's name on it. This is not a confirmed grave site, but is important enough to the quest to deserve a visit.
North of Greenwood is the official grave site. It seems like a fitting place, near a busy highway, but outside of town. I suppose this is where his family could afford to bury him. His death certificate says the family provided for the burial, and the gravediggers wife said in interviews she remembers an important musician laying up in his coffin under the tree, while her husband dug the grave. This one has the largest collection of picks, harmonicas, and empty bottles...and an official Miss. Blues Trail road sign. We spent a fair amount of time here, Robert I hope you don't mind me leaning against your stone and playing one of your songs.
Only one grave site left to visit, Elmore James in Ebenezeer. We debated this one, because we were at least 2 hours away. This was the coolest headstone, and if you rank these guys in order of importance, Elmore James is a transition man. He came between Charlie Patton and BB King. He was the master of the slide guitar, and it is his effect we see in pretty much any modern slide player. What the hey,we didn't come all this way to quit now! So on we go....to Ebeneezer. About 10 miles outside Greenwood we came to a stop. We found out there had been a head on collision with two fatalities. There was a long line of cars, some turning around, some heading off down a path between two cotton fields. After we a sat there for a few minutes we asked a lady parked on the shoulder if there was a way around. Yep, down that path for a mile, comes another dirt road for a ways, after it turns to pavement,turn back on the road we were on. Now, in Florida, when you drive off the road, you get stuck in sand. In Mississippi, if it hasn't been raining, its hard pack dirt. As we turned onto the dirt road, we could see the remains of what were two vehicles, one was a pickup, the other I couldn't say. Standing by this one, several people were standing, holding hands as the rescue workers removed what was covered with a white sheet. I wondered if the departing soul's journey was aided by the obvious outpouring of love and sorrow. We usually leave alone, even when we are with someone. I wondered if it was different here and if I would ever know that answer. After we traversed two or three miles of hard pack dirt road and almost getting smashed by an emergency truck coming at us over a railroad crossing we could not see over, we arrived back on our original road.
The remaining drive was wonderful, through some beautiful though desolate landscapes. We were happy we made the trip to Ebeneezer, but dang we were getting hungry. We found Elmore James and Lonnie Pitchford. Don't know if they knew each other, but they are close now. What a cool headstone, be sure to look at the picture album. One thing nice about Ebeneezer, its only about 25 miles from the interstate, something we had not been on since leaving Memphis, and now we need to return. Memphis was 160 miles away. We had a full tank of gas, didn't neither of us smoke cigarettes, and we had sunglasses, so we were ready. We made it as far as Granada before the hunger took over. We hit the exit and what do we see...............BARBEQUE!!!! At last.And it was GOOD. Can't tell you what the name of it was, but eat there if you get a chance!
We got back in Memphis pretty late, checked into the Holiday Inn, and got ready to go to Beale St.
http://picasaweb.google.com/jcvitte for more pictures

Saturday morning was another bright and cool day, with the promise of a nice warm up in the afternoon. After packing up and shooting a few pictures, we headed off to Blues Berry’s bakery for a quick breakfast. Remember this is where we were grooving to the blues only a few short hours before. After that it was off to the Delta Museum to check out the great collection of art and artifacts they have on display ( including a reconstruction of Muddy Waters cabin). Then down the street to New York styles to buy my hat. I just couldn’t talk Dave into that purple suit, but he is still talking about it. Around the corner to Blues town Music. This is the place in Clarksville for music gear and the staff was very helpful. I found an American made Silvertone acoustic that was the perfect fit for what I was seeking as a momento of this trip. As an added bonus, even though it had strings from who knows when, it stays in tune fairly well and has a great tone. Kind of hard on the fingers, but that’s why they call it the blues. Dave picked up a new Takamine acoustic w/case. So now we could not only go to the crossroads, we could play at the crossroads. Across the street from the music store is CatHead http://www.cathead.biz/
and our friend Roger Stolle. Now if you are out and about in Clarksdale, Roger will at one time or another end up everywhere you do. That’s what makes Roger so cool, he is living this blues dream so many of us would like to. He owns a great store, with some one of a kind merchandise, he books acts, he has entertainment outside his store, he knows all the musicians, he is the blues ambassador for Clarksdale. Thank you again Roger. Mississippi Adam Riddle was playing outside Rogers store this Saturday, but we couldn’t stay long, much past saying hi to the guys in the band again. Next stop was Stan Street's Hambone Gallery(http://www.stanstreet.com/). As I said, Stan is a great artist and another ambassador for the Clarksdale blues scene. Sadly, it was time to leave this place. We had such a great time, met such a diverse crowd of great people, it was hard just not to book another night and stay, but the crossroads awaits. South of Clarksville is Hobson Plantation. This is where ShackUp Inn and Cotton Gin Inn are located. Check out the pictures and go to their site http://www.shackupinn.com/. If you go ask for Bill. He is a card, a historian, a real nice guy, and from what I gather, really likes beer. Again, just can't say enough about how nice everyone was. After Hopson plantation, comes Parchman Farm. If you don't know what Parchman is, just think Mississippi State Penitentary. As you drive by the entrance( I wouldn't recommend stopping, we took the signs literally) you can imagine back when the inmates worked the fields around the prision, singing the hymns and work songs of the slaves. This is the only American prison to ever turn a profit from the labor of the inmates. There is still plenty of razor wire around the place in case you need reaasurance this is still an active prision.
Sonny Boy Williamson's grave is not hard to find, once you find the map. Once you are in Tutwiler, you just have to look for the mural. The mural is located accross the street from where the old Tutwiler train depot was. There is still a concrete pad here, but nothing more but the spirts of W.C. Handy, the man credited with discovering blues music and bringing it to mainstream America. Legend has it the Tutwiler train Depot is where Handy first heard a young black man playing the blues and became intregued with the music. Long gone but certainly not forgotten. The mural and map are a block off mainstreet, so its best to look for the tracks and head toward them. Look at the map carefully, follow its directions, and you will find Sonny Boy's grave. Now we headed towards route 8, and the path to Rosedale. Before we got to there, we came accross Dockery Plantation, which was the epicenter of the blues in the 20's and 30's. Everybody who was anybody came here to play for the sharecroppers. This is where Robert Johnson, Charlie Patton, Willie Dixon, Son House, Sonny Boy, and a host of others performed, playing for nickles, pennies, and dimes. Part of the cotton gin still stands and a loading platform, complete with a chair, still bekons as you pull in the drive. It is a short walk down the path to the plantation house, which is actually much smaller than I expected. Some old buildings are still there including the overgrown store which a survived not quite intact.
Then we headed to Rosedale. This is where we expected to find the crossroads, not only the one in the movie, but the intersection of route 8 and route 1 is reputed to be the one and only authentic place. Problem always is, things change. The town of Rosedale is typical of most of this part of Mississippi.Boarded up stores, broken cars, broken dreams, and broken lives. I suspect the jobless rate must be pretty high, because we just didn't see a lot of places to work, although the places people do work seem to attract lots of hangaround types. We drove through Rosedale, and I have to tell you, there just didn't seem to be anywhere we wanted to stop. The intersection I had so wanted to set foot on just didn't call to me, and our choice was, try to find the crossroads outside of town that had been in the movie, or stay there til sundown. Quick deliberations told us we both shared the same feeling about Rosedale, so off we went with some very iffy directions. We headed toward Beulah, passed through to the second road outside town and turned east onto a dirt road. After traveling for about a mile, we came upon another dirt road heading north, back toward Beulah,and took it. After another mile or so, we came to another intersection, another dirt road. The road we were on didn't stop, but it did become mostly a grass road. That didn't matter, because about 200 yards from the corner we saw a clump of trees and after walking half way there, we realized it was a cemetary. My research had told me a church that was on site, was burned and probably no longer standing. Also the tree shown in the movie was no there, but here was a graveyard. In this part of Mississippi, it seemed all the cemetarys were behind churches, so this all made sense. We found chunks of brick plowed into the field around the graveyard, probably the remains of the church. So taking it for what it was, we grabbed the guitars, the cameras, a fair amount of bravado, and set off to fulfill this mad fantasy that had brought us here. Let me tell you, if you have never been in a graveyard at sundown, in the middle of the Mississippi Delta, you just haven't lived. This was amazing. No, the devil didn't drive by, unless it was that black lady in that 1989 Buick, but just the same, the spirit was flowing. At the very least it was a great picture taking opportunity. Night fell as we were wrapping up our adventure, which meant we were 2 or 3 miles from anywhere, in the dark. The Garmin GPS to the rescue, and soon we had plotted our course for Indianola to find a place to stay and try to catch some live blues at Club Ebony and the 308 club. We found the room, found out the local BBQ joint had closed, had to eat Mexican food, found no live music at Club Ebony, and the band was still setting up. We waited about an hour for them to start but by then the day was catching up with us, so after they had played about a set, we decided to call it a night. Next stop The search for Charlie Patton's grave, and the three graves of Robert Johnson. http://picasaweb.google.com/jcvitte for pictures.

Friday morning was cold and sunny, accompanied with a throbbing that can only be extinguished with coffee and breakfast. The only thing we had time for was biscuits and gravy on Beale on our way to the Gibson plant. At least we didn't think we had time until we showed up at the door to be told the first tour wasn't for an hour. This my friends was the wake up call to change our watches to C.S.T. from Eastern. Well, not exactly, but we got better at factoring it in.

The Gibson Guitar Plant was worth the wait, believe me. If you play the instrument or just enjoy the music that flows from it, you will enjoy this tour. It isn't a very long tour, but is filled with facts and the visual impact of seeing so many guitars in one room is mind boggling. Never mind the fact the store in front allows you to touch anything on display, and is generous with amps and cables to plug in. (our guide was kind of cute too)

After the Gibson tour, hop right across the street to the Memphis Rock and Soul Museum. Another quick tour(unguided), full of info, too much to take in quickly. On to Sun Records.http://www.sunstudio.com/index.html This is a guided tour that really covers only 3 rooms, but prepare yourself for some serious soaking of the vibe when you go here. I can feel places like this. Its almost as if everyone who has recorded there has left a bit of their spirit behind, almost like Vicksburg at the battlefield. You just could never be alone in that studio. There would always be someone with you, looking over your shoulder, pushing you along. The cool thing is, it is still a working studio that rents for $75 an hour. Don't know how big a block of hours you have to buy to get that rate, but that's what we were told.

We left Memphis with the help of our little GPS buddy. What a great gadget, and man did it help out during the trip. Our first stop was Helena Arkansas. A nice little trip across the Mississippi River gets you to downtown Helena, where the Helena Blues Festival goes on every year. There is a museum there, but unless you are a serious history buff and you have time, search on. The original King Biscuit Hour was broadcast from here, but the warehouse where it originated is now an empty lot. There is an extremely cool mural there covering a wall by the levee, and some buildings have small ones as well.

We were running a bit behind in our projected schedule, so we pressed on to Clarksdale, arriving around 5PM. Clarksdale is a fair sized town, about 10,000 people, but you will find the soul of Mississippi here. Within 4 or 5 blocks from our room, we saw so much talent Friday night. First our rooms were great. We stayed at Ground Zero http://www.groundzerobluesclub.com/in very comfortable rooms, which only left me to complain I wanted to be there more than one night. The rooms are located upstairs to the club. This place is co-owned by Morgan Freeman, but this is serious Mississippi juke joint feel. Contrary to most jukes however, this room has a generous stage. The band of Bill "Howling Mad" Perry, bluesed up the evening with some great originals and classic blues. We walked from there to the Delta Amusement Cafe, caught a local duo, and then went to Blues Berries, a bakery downtown to see Lala, Stan, and Stan's wife kick out some very "tasty" blues. Stan http://www.stanstreet.com/owns Hambones, an art gallery downtown, blows a very mean blues harp, and is a fabulous artist. His scenes are very expressive and would look good on your wall too! The absolute time-stopper was Red's. This place looks closed, looks scary, and is just too good to pass up. Mississippi Adam Riddle was there with his band, and they just tore up the room, and that is saying something. Let's put it this way, when you walk in Red's, after the sight of the couches mixed in with the tables, the tarp hanging from the ceiling, and the fact you have to rouse Red from the TV to get a beer, you know what it means when someone says juke joint. But who gives a crap about that, we were there for music, and a good time and let me tell you this is the place to get it. We met a fellow who said his name was Robert Jackson, and after watching Robert operate with the local ladies for about an hour, I think his name was really Robert Johnson. He kind of favored RJ, and if he could play guitar as smooth as he played the women, well......

Next its Sat and we are only hours away from the crossroads...

http://picasaweb.google.com/jcvitte check this site out I have 24 pictures posted now, more to follow if everyone can get there ok.

This is the only confirmed gravesite for Robert Johnson. This one is easy to find and has a Mississippi Blues Trail sign by the road. The other two are not quite as easy to find.
It is located at
90degrees 12.946min. north latitude
33degrees 33.818min. west longitude






The first, which is located outside Morgan City is actually just an oblisque, enscribed on all four sides with song titles, and platitudes. It is located at the Mount Zion Church located at
90 degrees 18.585 north
33 degrees 23.527 west

The second, which is a grave site but is not confirmed nor marked by a sign

It is located at Payne Chapel in Quito

33 degrees 26.415 north

90 degrees 18.238 west

http://picasaweb.google.com/jcvitte for more pictures

My research told me a crossroad could be found anywhere in life. My heart told me my soul would not be fulfilled until I walked on the hallowed ground of the Mississippi bluesmen. You cross a road everyday in life, you can't look back.You go on and use your time. And one day, your time is up, and all you can hope for at that point is to have "left your mark" as Dave is fond of saying. And so if we are lucky we get to walk on new ground every once in awhile. We met a bunch of great people I can call friends. Not one bad experience, although we were somewhat surprised at the lack of available barbecue! We saw what I will always believe was a moment of true grief and love at the sight of a head-on collision, where what I have to assume was family, stood holding hands as one of the two victims was extracted from the remains of what I cannot even say was a car or a SUV. We found what we believe was the crossroads used in the movie. About the right distance from Route 1, outside Beulah. There was an old cemetery about 200 yards from the corner. There was no church but it was reported to have had a fire. There were pieces of brick plowed into the field around the cemetery, so that's where the church should have disappeared to. Two dirt roads came to a T, with a grass road running from the top of the T. No large tree, but that too was reported to have gone away. Things do change. We were there at sundown. We did not meet Legba, but then there were 2 of us. However, some of the pictures I took of Robert Johnsons headstone bear some evidence of what I can only call other worldly existence.
We arrived Thursday, ready for whatever we might find. What we did find was a collection of some of the best musicians I have ever seen, much better in my mind than New Orleans, but I'm not a big Zydeco fan. It is very much like New Orleans, or Key West for that matter. But to me, the vibe is much more palpable. It was very cold, and a pretty slow night for Beale St. we were told. That really just made it better for us because we got to talk to most of the players we saw, a little more than just the hi, where are you from, thanks for coming that is the norm. Everybody we met seemed truly glad to meet us, and it was a truly energizing experience hearing all that great music. Next..... Friday,we get serious about the quest and get to meet some of the nicest people around.

The departure date gets closer, and I just get more pumped up to go. It has been an interesting week. First, the church next door to me, the oldest black church in our county, had a funeral on Thurs. afternoon, which meant I got to listen to the church band practice on Wed. and then got to listen to the fire and brimstone service and the music on Thurs. I can hear all of this because our two buildings only have about 2 feet of air space between them and they are both very old buildings. I always enjoy listening to the band, because it is spiritual and very rousing. I hear the bass player plunking around now, at 1PM on Monday, so they must have a funeral again during the week. That's as close to the blues we have here in Dade City.

The weekend was interesting because the new band I am playing guitar with, DOGHOUSE, played our first gig this weekend at a place called Whiskey Willies in Land o Lakes, Fl. Thats me in the shadows on the far right.

Well we leave tommorrow at 5:39. I am looking forward to a great time and I hope to have lots of great stories and pictures to share with you. Until next time....on with the quest.

I have finished the book, Blues Taveling..... Holy Sites of The Delta by Steve Cheesborough.
It's a great travel book, available at Cat Head, and suited perfectly for this quest we are on. The one thing I had overlooked in my initial search for the real crossroads, was the movie Crossroads. The movie was filmed in part right where we were going to be, and as the book pointed out, the movie was responsible for the renewed interest in the tale, so the crossroads used in the movie, since it was only a few miles south of Rosedale in Beulah became an important destination. By the way, if I haven't stated this Roger from Cathead(www.cathead.biz) has been very helpful, so if you are in Clarkdale, stop in and say hello.
Dave and I realized last evening when we got together to jam a bit, that we were within a week of leaving, and we are stoked! Our flight from Tampa leaves around 5 on March 1st, and arrives in Memphis at 6:45. We are going to start the quest in the rain I'm afraid, according to the extended forcast, but it does look like Fri, Sat, and Sun will be better. I'll try to post at least once more before we leave, if anyone is reading this, leave me a comment

Whenever I go on a trip, I usually do so much preplanning, I kind of ruin the effect somewhat of seeing new places. However, I don’t miss much or spend a lot of time searching for things to see, so I guess it all evens out. For the quest for the crossroads, massive preparation is needed. There are so many out of the way, hidden and forgotten places that make up the fabric of this story, you have to search them out and plot your steps, so as not to miss anything relevant.
I start with the internet, because, that’s what any reasonable person would do. A quick search for the crossroads brings up some interesting discussion points. A crossroads is mentioned in the Bible in the book of Ezekiel “For the king of Babylon stands at the parting of the way, at the fork in the two roads”. Early Christians buried criminals and suicide victims at a crossroads after nightfall, to more replicate pagan rituals and confuse the rouge spirits should they arise. Robert Frost, the great 20th century poet, even mentions the divergence of two roads in the middle of a forest. A crossroads has always meant a choice. You take the high road, I’ll take the low road, the path less taken, and of course the crossroads has always held a mystical aura in the voodoo, and conjuring religions of Africa.
So here I am at the first crossroads. Do I want to leave on Thursday night, or Friday? Since I am an independent businessman during the day, closing on a Friday was tough. As a blues fanatic and guitar player who hasn’t had a vacation in about 6 years, it took all of 1 minute to cross that road.
It is my belief, at least the belief I choose to follow, that a true crossroads is not just a regular intersection. If that were so, then one could choose to follow the same path they were on. No, a true crossroads always involves a choice, a fork in the road literally, and figuratively. Good or Evil. Left or Right. High or Low. Easy or Hard. Go this way, and lose your horse; Go that way and lose your head the ancient Russians would say. So off I go to continue preparation. Until next time…..the quest continues.

This idea of a pilgrimage to the Delta began long ago. I think every musician who has ever played the blues can imagine themselves standing at the crossroads, brave enough to be there at midnight, waiting for the dark man. When the opportunity to go on a short quest with my good friend and little brother, Dave, I jumped with both feet. We had decided to fly to Memphis on a Thurs. and spend Fri, Sat and Sunday on a driving tour of music’s most historic area. Sometimes Delta music gets overlooked as to the extent of its influence on what music has been produced since early in the 20th century. Really, its influence on all recorded music since then is really more the case. Most music historians, when talking about the greatest influence on modern music will mention, Elvis, The Beatles, and the Nashville sound. Guess what folks; none of it happens without the old slave music. Beginning during civil war times, the sound of the Delta spread throughout the country, fueling the ragtime of the 20’s, the jazz and swing of the 30’s and 40’s, the western cowboy, and eastern country of the 40’s and 50’s and finally the rock of the 50’s.Then it went worldwide. The British bands of the 60 have got most of their influence from the rocknroll that came from the Memphis area. Nearly all the truly influential musicians of the 60’s from England studied the early Sun Records recordings. That led them deeper into the influences of the Robert Johnsons, the Elmore James’, the Muddy Waters, etc. What happened then is the truly remarkable thing about music. Since it had influenced so many famous musicians, the common man started paying attention to the early music. The not so famous musicians started hearing it too. As recording technology improved, more music became available and more people had the privilege of hearing it. And the surprising thing is, it sounds just as fresh and energetic as when it was new. So when they say Memphis is Mecca to music, the idea is solid.
The crossroads is a matter of much debate. Where is it? Which one is real? Does it really exist? Well, those are the questions, and over the next few weeks, I will try to explain my experiences, and my feelings, and my reverence for the crossroads to supply my answer.
I’ve been playing music since 1965. Guitar has been my main instrument, although I started out playing bass. One of the first guitar players I was in a band with, was what we would call today, a Johnnie Winter clone. Here I was, a 17 year old boy from farm country in Ohio, playing “white hot” blues tunes in bowling alley lounges, and that’s pretty much how I got my start. I look at the old song lists from those days, and it amazes me how much blues we did. I had a lot of exposure to bands from Detroit in those days and they were all playing the same stuff, old rockers that were old blues songs. And it keeps happening over again. Every new project I begin, it seems the same songs show up, and it’s usually the blues tunes. I’ll bet if we could look ahead 100 years, somewhere, somebody would be rerecording Love In Vain to the enlightenment of another new generation. The quest begins.