Sweet Home in the Delta

     With the release of the long-awaited work of the late blues scholar Mack McCormick, I decided to read what blues enthusiasts and ethnomusicologists were crowing about.  McCormick was reputed to be the best source on the subject of Robert Johnson, the Mississippi Delta bluesman that is generally regarded as the force for much of what later became Rhythm and Blues and Rock and Roll. 

    His archive was enormous if organized.  Filled with notes, photos, records, and clippings, and Mack was always going to write a book.  After his death, the entire bundle went to the Smithsonian. Fortunately, the book that was always promised came to light posthumously.  It did not disappoint. However, it is not the last word on Johnson, whose short life, (he died at 27) was always shrouded in myth and legend.  

    Slowly, the veil is lifting and the real Johnson is beginning to emerge after decades of misinformation and just plain nonsense.  One of Johnson's sisters released a book called Brother Robert, along with a wonderful work called Escaping the Delta, Robert Johnson and the Invention of the Blues, by Elijah Wald the man emerges from the weight of the mythology like a beautiful butterfly from a cocoon. 

    Johnson was a master of the slide guitar style so typical of the Mississippi Delta. No, he did not go to the crossroads and sell his soul to the Devil.  But he did almost miraculously improve his playing skills in a short time.  He played in small Delta towns and ultimately went to larger venues in Chicago and New York.  He was a loner,  a rambler, and a hard-drinking survivor who loved the attention from the women who came to the Juke joints and country stores where he most often played.  

    Reading all these books has settled some things for me.  It has also given me new insights into who many of these sketchy figures really were.  For example,  many Delta blues figures, Robert Johnson included, loved and could play other kinds of music.  They were well aware of current trends and tastes but the record companies who grudgingly recorded them were only interested in one stereotypical genre.  The fact that Johnson liked and played tunes by Gene Autry or Fats Waller, comes as a huge surprise, but it need not.  These guys were real people who went to movies when they could, listened to the radio, and occasionally bought phonograph records.  They cared little about what was "authentic" and more about where and how they could make a living.