As discussed in my kick-off piece for Exploitive Black Rock History Month, some subjects we’ll be exploring will be more difficult to assess than the African American robed choir (AARC). The practice of white rock bands incorporating “authentic” bluesmen is not as black and white as the AARC, and with no one else taking on the task, it’s our job to review the shades of gray.
A scant 21 seconds into the following YouTube clip of an interview with Jefferson Airplane/Hot Tuna guitarist Jorma Kaukonen, Jorma sets up what I’m about to discuss in today’s examination of exploitive black rock history better than I could have hoped. Check it out.
Long before Jon Spencer Blues Explosion found R.L. Burnside, possibly the last surviving African American bluesman with any pre-rock-era credibility to drag around on tour and dazzle white middle audiences, Jefferson Airplane and offshoot band Hot Tuna turned white rockin’ America onto Papa John Creach.
Creach was already a 55-year-old musician of no musical acclaim when he was discovered by Hot Tuna drummer Joey Covington and brought into that wing of the Airplane. In 1970, Covington would join Jefferson Airplane as well, bringing Creach into the mothership. It seems Creach’s entry followed one of Marty Balin‘s exits (his first?), immediately following the deaths of Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix. (Heavy.) As Balin said in the band history Got a Revolution!, written by Jeff Tamarkin, Jann Wenner, and Paul Kantner:
I just didn’t want to go onstage and play that crazy music, that cocained, messed-up music that they were into. I stayed home.
That quote may have nothing to do with the topic at hand, but I couldn’t resist working it into the discussion. Anyhow, with Marty sitting out a stretch, the Airplane did the only reasonable thing: call in Papa John. The few reports I can find on Creach’s joining the Airplane fold include this telling line, or some variant thereof:
The audience reaction to his tune-up alone convinced the rest of the Airplane that he was a worthwhile addition to the band’s line-up.
I bet you’re thinking the same thing that I thought when I read that quote.
Although British Invasion bands like The Yardbirds and Fleetwood Mac had jammed with actual African American blues musicians years before the Airplane added Creach to their menagerie, the wide-eyed idol worship at play for the Brits was understandable. There’s a big difference about the opportunity to jam with Sonny Boy Williamson or Muddy Waters and the possible opportunism of placing an unknown, 55-year-old African American fiddle player in the middle of your honky freak show. Like the young British Invasion musicians, veteran, white, blues-based musicians of more recent vintage, such as Eric Clapton and Stevie Ray Vaughn, who shine a light on the likes of Buddy Guy, cannot be faulted. At least I don’t think they’re guilty of the exploitive practices that we seek to raise awareness over and possibly end this month. Keep that summer festival blues nonsense away from me, but it’s mostly about the music, man, as well as paying homage and all that jazz.
R.L. Burnside is another shade of gray. He was brought to the public by Fat Possum Records, an indie label that made its name on finding some of the last surviving blues artists with pre-rock credibility. As a blues skeptic and acknowledged bluesophobe, the entire mission of Fat Possum Records is hard for me to judge. Maybe you can help me. Was Fat Possum they really doing a service to Da Blooz by giving Burnside and Junior Kimbraugh a second chance, or were they scraping the bottom of the barrel with all the blind faith and unconditional love of a collector?
Although Burnside’s ’60s recording career failed to catch fire, he learned to play guitar from Mississippi Fred McDowell and could cite Muddy Waters as a cousin. Prior to his initial recording career he shot a man dead – he shot him! I don’t mean to make light of the man’s mistake or the dead man’s ending, but let’s allow consideration of how this may have played into the decision by Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, whose entire schtick was a punk-rock play on juke joint showmanship, to collaborate with Burnside. And let’s not forget the impact these details may have had on young, indie rock audiences who got turned onto Burnside in the ’90s.
But what’s wrong with Fat Possum and JSBE getting into this obscure bluesman and bringing him to a new generation? you may ask. It’s a fair question and probably more applicable to Burnside’s last-bluesman standing status than that with Papa John getting roped into that Airplane mess. In criticizing Jefferson Airplane and Jon Spencer Blues Explosion for at least partially exploiting obscure, African American blues musicians for the purpose of “wowing” their white, middle-class audiences I am not wholly demeaning any previously undiscovered talent these artists had. It’s hard for me to judge the works of Papa John, for instance, because the racket he was stuck in the middle of did not lend itself to making any musician look good. As for Burnside, whose music I found less interesting than that of his legendary guitar teacher, more power to JSBE and Fat Possum for getting the guy whatever props he could muster and allowing him to live his final decade-plus off the earnings from his music. Considering that Fat Possum has stayed true to its mission and actually developed new bands influenced by their barrel-scraping blues finds, I find little fault in the label’s actions. Spencer’s exploitive actions are another matter, but in terms of degree of exploitation, I believe this practice is much less offensive than the AARC or other practices we’ll examine through the month.
Are there other instances of white rockers calling in the credible bluesman for mostly exploitive gain? Did U2 really need to collaborate with B.B. King when blues came to town? Did his presence somehow inspire them to record their first 12-bar blues? I look forward to your help in distinguishing among this practice’s shades of gray.
I think Jeff Airplane sucks, with or without blues cred.
The only Blues Explosion record I like is ACME, the one everybody hates.
I saw Russel Simmons’ Band one time and they were awesome. JSBE is probly great live too but I never saw them.
I had the RL Burnside record ASS POCKET OF WHISKEY. It was nothing special.
Andre Williams is one old black guy who ran afoul of white punks and had pretty good results. He made an album with THE GORIES and it’s pretty friggin great. It features the hit “Pussy Stink (but so do marijuana)
the only thing worse than U2 is U2 with B.B. King.
the only U2 song I like is Merry Xmas (baby please come home) and I wonder if they wrote that. If not, I wonder if there’s a better version floating out there somewhere.
Papa John rocks! He was the perfect fit for Hot Tuna and also outstanding with Airplane & Starship. Check out the video of him playing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”
“Merry Xmas (baby please come home)” is the highlight of Phil Spector’s Christmas album, sung by Darlene Love.
I’d say the musicians fawning over the Staple Singers segment in THE LAST WALTZ stings of afro-worship but than again their performance is my favorite part of the film.
I’m glad you brought the Staple Singers’ appearance in The Last Waltz into the discussion, db. That’s also one of my favorite parts of the movie. I was tempted to cite it in this post, but I felt two things put it more in the context of the British Invasion kids jamming with their heroes: 1) I can believe that Robbie Robertson played guitar along to their records and learned from Pops’ style when Robbie was a developing musician and 2) The Band graciously turns over the stage to their guests and lets them lead the song. I think it’s different than U2 and B.B. King. Did The Edge ever play a 7th or did Adam Clayton ever play a walking bassline before that legendary collaboration?
Oh, and db, when we get around to examining the exploitation of Civil War culture in rock, you and E. Pluribus Gergely can lead the charge against The Band.
Mod, I think a critical issue here is that, in all of the cases cited, the musical result is aesthetically questionable–at best.
Even though I’m a huge JA fan, I won’t go anywhere near the Creach-era records.
I think for JA the intention was more from the jazz tradition: where it is not uncommon to “showcase” a performer.
And JSBE and U2 were pretty much utterly derivative to begin with–so it’s not like they used Burnside and King any more (or worse) than they used anyone else.
thanks Dan.
I have a mixed response to the Creach example. On the one hand I think it’s undeniably true that his “authentic” presence was an addition made to bolster the flagging fortunes and charisma (always crucial for Airplane) of the band. On the other hand, if the question is whether or not he contributed something musically, I’d have to say he did.
Take the 1973 Live At Winterland album. Not a neglected classic by any means, but better than it might be: a playable, genially rocking record that isn’t too mired in excess. I think it’s fair to say that Creach’s playing is responsible for most of the highlights on that record. I say that from listening to it, not from seeing that he’s black. So I think the band needed him for some musical oomph as well as taking advantage of his image. They sure didn’t have much else by 1973.
Re Fat Possum records, the only thing I don’t understand about that label is why they even bothered with the completely mediocre white acts they supported. Who gives a damn about any of those bands? I like Burnside, but he’s hit and miss: “Goin’ Down South” is a great song, for instance. The first T-Model Ford record is a dud, but the second, “She Ain’t None of Your’n,” has some really great songs along with some hard-edged Muddy Waters covers. I saw him live in New Orleans around the time that record was released, and man, he could play. But I’d argue that the best of the Fat Possum bluesmen is Junior Kimbrough, by a long shot. His first record, or the later Most Things Haven’t Worked Out” are consistently driving droney blues with great guitar playing, and the other records are good too.
Hey, mwall — your pops made the Washington Post this morning; congrats!
“db… …can lead the charge against The Band.”
Yeah I’ve been wondering about that for a few days now. It’s probably fresh in my mind because I’m reading that Levon Helm bio, but what’s your beef with the Band, db?
Too much schtick? Is it the funny hats and beards? The self seriousness? Is it because Robbie Robertson appears to be a bit of a douche in the Last Waltz? The fact that the two coolest guys in the band are no longer with us?
I think that their live stuff is better than their studio versions, so is it that the recordings on albums for which they are so highly praised aren’t as good as the songs themselves?
Do tell!
Hey bakshi, I’m not aware of that. Fill me in. Thanks–you can write me at marwkallace1322 [at] yahoo.com. But of course I can ask my dad when I next talk to him.
Relevant perhaps to this list: he also once had a brief article in People Magazine on the subject of the Jehovah’s Witnesses and Michael Jackson. Almost certainly the only time in his life he has ever written something related to pop music, although his article was entirely about religion, of course.
Papa John was primarily in the Airplane by default. I think once he started Hot Tuna, Kaukonen was heading back to his first love, old country blues, and Creach really does fit in with that sound. Since the boundaries at the time between the Airplane, Hot Tuna and the Starship moniker, originally a Kantner solo album rather than an actual band, were so diffuse, I think it was inevitable that Creach ended up on stage with his pals in the flagging Airplane. I think it was more about including him on the Tuna days off than cashing in.
CDM answers for ME: “what’s your beef with the Band, db? Too much schtick? Is it the funny hats and beards? The self seriousness?”
This is the type of question that would make my wife move to the other side of the party so she didn’t have to hear me go on again.
As a singles band they’re kind of okay. The remind me of King Harvest’s “Dancing in the Moonlight” or “Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl)” or something else that brings back the feeling of being a pre-teen listening to AM radio.
But I’ve never been able to make much more of them then that, they are records with pleasant sonics thar somehow bounce off me, almost the way someone’s voice can instantly turn you off. Maybe I’m confused by all the singers.
My distaste is odd because I love Dylan (though, unconsciously I’ve never been as into the records he made with the Band). I love country, blues and folk, I love all their influences, just not them.
I put on MUSIC FROM BIG PINK now. Geez, what lumbering rhythms. I always think of this as a 70’s record (although it came out in ’68), they so sound exhausted. How could one like this stuff without being a major Deadhead?
The self-mythologizing drives me nuts too, it similarly interferes with me liking Springsteen and U2 as well. Especially since all three of these acts sell themselves as being a friend to the common man while they simultaneously pose like they’re in a sculptor’s studio. Throw in the ludicrousness of a bunch of Canadians getting all sentimental about defending Ol’ Dixie (“and don’t forget to cue the gospel singers!”) and the whole Band package gets to be a little more than I can comfortably pass through my small intestine. I’d rather just throw on the first Poco record, early Little Feat or the Dead and not have to think about Robbie and Levon’s incalculable heaviosity. Better yet, put on some Lee Dorsey. The Band is definitely lower case “b” in my book.
{Just got to “Chest Fever”. Manuel’s organ playing is obviously the best thing about them…}
db wrote:
Our next motto? Rock Town Hall…The Wrong Side of the Party
I know the last thing you want is to be pince nez’d when you’re dissing an artist that everybody else likes, but Garth Hudson played the organ in The Band.
Lumbering rhythms rule!
“Garth Hudson played the organ in The Band.”
Sadly, I’m a little proud I didn’t know that. If I knew that it would seem like I should know the name of the bass player on “Dancing In The Moonlight”.
BigSteve, how many Rock Nerd Points should we deduct for db’s oversight? I say we take off the maximum amount allowed for his display of “pride.”
Totally. I don’t like Led Zeppelin, but at least I know that John Paul Jones didn’t play the drums.
This deduction would go down easier if someone would come up with the name of King Harvest’s bass player. Isn’t that song as good as “Up On Cripple Creek”?
“Sadly, I’m a little proud I didn’t know that. If I knew that it would seem like I should know the name of the bass player on “Dancing In The Moonlight”.”
Hold on a second buddy! Bad mouth the Band all you want but keep a respectful tone in your voice when you’re talking about Dave “Doc” Robinson!
From the Wikipedia entry on King Harvest:
“With support from Beach Boys members Carl Wilson and Mike Love, they were signed to A&M Records and made another album, but, failing to achieve any hits, they subsequently broke up. Novak, Altbach, Tuleja, and Figueroa toured with the Beach Boys. Tuleja played on Dennis Wilson’s 1977 solo Pacific Ocean Blue, while Altbach and Robinson performed with Love in his band Celebration.”
db, I have to agree. Take away the authenticity and heaviness and you’re really left with a one-hit wonder (“The Weight”).
Although, I dig The Basement Tapes. Has any other record come close to matching the feel of Exile on Main Street?
dr john wrote:
We could really thin out the canon considerably using this handy metric. Only light and inauthentic artists need apply. Jonas Borthers, welcome to Rock Town Hall!
I see your “Dancing in the Moonlight” and raise you “I’ve Never Been to Spain.”
Dave “Doc” Robinson! Thanks for the head start on my research, he’s the bassist and vocalist on “Dancing in the Moonlight”. I had no idea that the song was used in that WALL-E kiddie film.
I’m listening to Dave “Doc” Robinson’s earlier band Boffalongo right now and it is at least as good as the Basement Tapes. Dave “Doc” Robinson, I’m telling you, he’s who we should have been listening to all along. Any one of these Boffalongo tunes would have been the highlight of Robbie Robertson’s solo career. Dave “Doc” Robinson would have probably out-shined his performance in the film CARNY as well. Dave “Doc” Robinson!