Earl Hooker, Blues Master

Chapter 12 Nineteen Sixty-Nine

Tlitieteóti $0äfy-7lito& Nineteen sixty-nine, the final year of Hooker's career, was both active and successful: after twenty-fiveyears of dues paying, Hooker saw at last the acknowledgment of his genius outside the restricted boundaries of the blues underworld. For one thing, recognition enabled Earl to take part in no less than ten album recording sessions in less than six months, while he was at last able to perform for European audiences in the fall. The development of a growing consciousness for Afro-American popular music among the younger white generation in the United States and in Europe came as a major help for obscure artists of Hooker's caliber. As early as May 1968, in answer to a survey set up by British staff members of the leading blues publication Blues Unlimited, readers were asked to name "the artists active today who you really feel are worth recognition and in need of a first or second trip to Europe, and who you'd like to see more written about." With great unanimity, they listed "Fred Below and Earl Phillips (drums);Elmore Nixon, Lafayette Leake, 263 U X < IL H m ui rW Henry Gray, and Katie Webster (piano); Earl Hooker (guitar) and Jack Meyers [sic] (bass)."1 Interestingly enough, not only was Hooker the sole blues guitarist cited by readers, but the other Chicago musicians selected—Lafayette Leake, Fred Below , Jack Myers—had all workedand recorded for him, confirminghis superior status in the Windy City. As a result, Hooker's story, jointly told by reporter Keith Tillman and guitarist Jimmy Dawkins, appeared seven months later in the January 1969 issue of Blues Unlimited in the form of a three-page feature titled "Mr. MusicHimself!" At last, this article provided the growing community of blues fans around the world with a portrait (in words and pictures) of a legendary player whose public image had so far been restricted to a handful of influential guitar solos available on rare singles, and to a hazy reproduction of a 1956 picture taken with B. B. King published on the back cover of the February 1967 issue of the same Blues Unlimited. Around the same time, EarFs Cuca LP was followed by the release of the Arhoolie set waxed in November 1968. And if The Genius of Earl Hooker received only half-hearted writeups—a logical reaction with regard to the unevenness of Hooker's performances—Strachwitz's first attempt at capturing Hooker's music on vinyl was widely acclaimed, although it was not perceived in quite the same wayby Hooker's black followingand by white fans. Blues Unlimited editor Mike Leadbitter and reviewer Harry Hussey expressed their unwavering admiration for Hooker's proficiency and creativity—Leadbitter even hailing Earl's cover of Tampa Red's "Anna Lee" as "probably the best Delta blues recorded this year"—but both Leadbitter and Hussey also had reservations with respect to Hooker's progressiveuse of the wah-wah pedal.2 On the contrary, Hooker's home admirers acknowledged his utter sense of creation, urging Chris Strachwitz to put out, alongside the LP,a single featuring Earl's more modern tracks. Backed with "YouDon't Want Me," the superb "Wah-Wah Blues" rapidly became a favorite of black neighborhood crowds in Chicago. "They used to have that on the jukebox at Pepper's, people would listen to it a lot," Dick Shurman remembers. Despite the growing interest of white blues enthusiasts, Hooker's followersuntil 1969 were still to be found for the most part among ghetto tavern patrons. Regular engagements in Chicago during this last year included Pepper's on 43rd Street; Theresa's at 4801 Indiana ; and the BlueFlame at 39th and Cottage Grove on the South Side, not far Nineteen Sixty-Nine 264 from Mrs. Hooker's KingDrive apartment. On the West Side, Hooker could be found at the Alex Club on West Roosevelt Road, Kansas City Red's Jamaican Inn at Madison and Loomis, and saxophonist Eddie Shaw's Place at 4423 West Madison. An impromptu jam session also took place on Friday night, February 7, at the Burning Spear, a classier venue found at 5523 South State on the South Side, where nationally known blues acts like Little Milton, B. B.King, Bobby Bland, Tyrone Davis, and Albert King usually performed. Earl was so proud of the tremendous response he obtained from the Burning Spear's allblack audience that he recounted the event to his European friend WillyLeiser in a letter dated February 10. "Dear Willy—Dropping you a line, hope you are well & enjoying life Youshould have been with me Fridaynight I appeared at the Burning Spear with all the celebrities wascalled back on stage 3 times. ... I ran all the guitar players out of the club, I played with my teeth and my toes," wrote Hooker, who signed "Your friend Earl Hooker The Guitar King." On the health front, Hooker's physical condition did not improve during the first few weeks of 1969, and he even went back to the hospital for a little while in January. His disease keeping him from taking to the road until the spring, he played many weekend gigs in neighboring towns like Kankakee, Rockford, Joliet, and Chicago Heights, where Hooker's friend and occasional booking agent Herb Turner was operating a new club. Besides Ricky Allen and the Jackson Five—a then rapidly rising soul unit—Turner's club often billed the constantly changing Hooker band, with bassist Gino Skaggs, guitarist Freddie Roulette, and various vocalists including Lee Shot Williams, B.B, Odom, and a nephew of Pinetop Perkins's named B.J. King. "In '69, we leased a place down here in the Heights, at 12th and Center Avenue. It was called the Grapevine Lounge, 'cause Marvin Gaye washot at the time with 'I Heard It Through the Grapevine,'" Turner remembers. "We opened on New Year's Day, 1969. And then I decided to put live entertainment in there, and I called up all the blues guys I knowed, 'Hey, gimme a night, see what you can make on the door,' and they worked for me, makin' a hundred and a quarter a night or somethin' like that, a hundred and fifty. Hooker was here every weekend when he was in town." In many ways, Hooker's routine was unchanged, but this was only an appearance as a whole new audience for blues music was rapidly emerging. Hooker's initial contact with the youngwhite public came with the increas265 Nineteen Sixty-Nine ing number of college performances set up by students with an interest in the blues. Those college gigs were rewarding in many respects, first of all because bandleaders usually made in less than two hours twice the money they would have received for three long sets in a ghetto tavern. Less immediate but more relevant was the tremendous development of record sales, the young college crowd forming a whole new market for blues albums when Afro-Americans still went with the 45 format. Hooker wasquick in realizingthis, especially after he witnessed the rising success of campusfavorites like Otis Rush or Magic Sam. For that reason, he was eager to make his own breakthrough in this mi' lieu when Dick Shurman, then a student at the University of Chicago, offered to hire him there: "The first time I sawhim at a gig, I was talking to him because I was booking a series of dances at the University of Chicago. Like I had Otis [Rush] and [Magic] Sam, and the Aces and Chuck Berry, and I asked Hooker whether he'd want to play, and he said a certain amount of money. And I said, 'Gee! That's too bad we really can't go that high!' because it was over our budget. And he immediatelysaid, 'Well, okay, we'll set a price, but I'll play the thing.' So that would have been like about $400 for the gig or something , which was respectable money but not super money. Like you couldn't have got Buddy [Guy] for that price." Hooker's act was particularly well received by the young public, who were thrilled by his dynamic performances and stage acrobatics. His displayofshowmanship rapidly enabled him to make a name on this wide-open market, resulting in better-paying gigs. Besides college dates, the Hooker band featuring Junior Wells wasoffered to play as a support act at a rock concert in early 1969. The event took place at the Kinetic Playground—a large warehouse-like ballroom located on the North Side of town, just off Lawrence Avenue on Clark Street—where promoter Aaron Russo booked rock acts at the peak of the hippie wave. If Hooker's sensational guitar playing was becoming increasingly popular, his showswereenhanced byJunior Wells's hot vocals and soulful blues harp. Several years after their glorious Mel London recordings, the cohesion and spirit of mutual understanding that still dominated when the two men shared the stage even drew the attention of Wells's booking agent, Dick Waterman . Eager to include Earl in the roster of exclusive artists featured by his Avalon Productions booking agency, Waterman invited Hooker to team up with Junior in anticipation of major nationwide college tours. No doubt this Nineteen Sixty-Nine 266 would have been the easiest way for Hooker to make a name on the college scene, but this plan failed due to his general distrust of agents and his reluetance at sharing the limelight with another leader on a lasting basis. Giving up the idea of an "Earl Hooker and Junior Wells" team, Waterman finally replaced it with the widely acclaimed "BuddyGuy and Junior Wells" formula, tested on various occasions since the mid-sixties but truly inaugurated on the occasion of a European tour with the Rolling Stones in the fall of 1970. Waterman's proposal was not the only one, and the idea of making Earl Hooker a party to a talented vocalist sprang up in the mind of another promoter around the same period of time, A. C. Reed recalls: "There was a agent in New York wanted me to get teamed up with Hooker. That was in '68 or '69, that's when I was travelin' with Buddy [Guy]before Hooker died. But it was a agent out there tryin' to get me to quit and team up with Hooker, some guy,he was the Chambers Brothers' manager and agent. His name wasWhitey, and he asked me to ask Hooker about it. He said, 'If you all team up together, you can really go, because you all did a lot of recordings together.' So when I asked Hooker about it, Hooker said, 'Yeah,' but it never happened 'cause Hooker is the kind of man you don't get along with him no way unless he's out front. I don't know how they wasgonna bill it, 'A. C. Reed and Earl Hooker,' but they was gonna put me out front because I wasmore known with most of the whites than Hooker was, see. But we never did get a chance to organize it before he died. If he was still livin', I probably would have done it." Other than local college dates and occasional concerts with Junior Wells around Chicago, Earl's initial contact with the rock scene took place in early April 1969 under the auspices of his friend Ike Turner, on the occasion ofEarl's first trip that year to California. Turner was in a better position than anyone else in the R&B trade to introduce Hooker to the LosAngeles scene; after settling there with his wife Tina in the mid-sixties following a decade in the St. Louis area, Ike had built a tight network of connections with the developing Californian musical milieu. In the spring of 1969, he was making a strong comeback in the business with a new band and a new deal with an upcoming record firm, Bob Krasnow's Blue Thumb company, whereas a nationwide tour with the Rolling Stones was already in the worksfor the end of the year. Turner's friendship with Hooker went back to the "good old days" in the Delta two decades earlier, and it was strengthened by years of playing together 267 Nineteen Sixty-Nine in St. Louis and Chicago. Hooker's trip to California barely lasted a week, but Earl still found the time to meet various influential personalities, including Blue Thumb owner Bob Krasnow. Back in Chicago, Hooker was so thrilled by his West Coast experience that he made up his mind to return there assoon as possible, "i bind over in Calfornia," he eagerly told Willy Leiser in a letter dated April 23, written by Mrs. Hooker under EarFs dictation, "i played for ike tunner one weak—it wasjust some people thair—i went out in Hollerd Wood Calfornia—I met so minny stars I nowed." Drummer Kansas City Red, whose club Earl visited upon his return from the West Coast, clearly remembered the guitarist's enthusiasm: "I had a place called the Jamaican Inn. I got that right after that riot they had here. Freddy King, B. B. King, a lot of guys wasstoppin' that I knowed, and wehad a pretty nice time. Earl came there after he went [to California]. He stayed out there with Ike Turner for a while and he was tellin' me about Ike's home." The future looked promising at last, but Hooker, for lack of obligingly incorporating rock elements into his playing, didn't quite belong to the privileged category of blues musicians who enjoyed great popularity with rock audiences. Among the latter was Muddy Waters, the aging blues figure. Through the efforts of Marshall Chess, son of his record company's owner, Muddy desperately tried to modernize his music in an attempt to make it more accessible to the young public, inviting white rock-blues stars like Michael Bloomfield and Paul Butterfield—who appeared that summer at the famed Woodstock Festival—to play on some of his recordings. Even though this policy was successful from a commercial standpoint, the lack of authenticity and relative sterility of the music it generated was typical of the superficial side of the relations between the dollar-dominated rock world and the scuffling blues scene. The followinganecdote told by Dick Shurman exemplifies the artificial nature of blues/rock connections. Referred to is the "Fathers and Sons" concert, an ephemeral encounter pompously baptized "Super Cosmic Joy—Scout Jamboree " that involved blues fathers MuddyWaters, Otis Spann, and James Cotton and rock sons drummer Buddy Miles, guitarist Mike Bloomfield, and harmonicist Paul Butterfield, taking place on Thursday, April 24, at the Auditorium Theater in the heart of the Chicago Loop. The gulf existing between the commercial success generated by the Fathers and Sons' derivative sounds Nineteen Sixty-Nine 268 and the complete indifference Hooker's amazingmusic wasconfronted with in a South Side neighborhood bar on the very same night, emphasized by the presence at both places of harmonica master James Cotton, evidences the derisory wayyoung white America failed to pay its true debt to the blues masters. "I remember the night of that Tathers and Sons' concert with Muddyand Butterfield and all of them," Shurman says, "I went to that thing, and then on the way home, we stopped at Pepper's and Hooker was there and I remember it was such a strange thing because the Auditorium Theater was just totally packed and just going crazy for the Tathers And Sons' thing, and the main thing that they were waiting for was Cotton, because Cotton came late; he had a gig in Wisconsin and was flown to Chicago by helicopter from it. And so they were sort of stalling, saying, 'He'll be here,' and then there was this big cheer when he showed up. Well, when we got to Pepper's, Hooker wasplaying and Cotton was there just hanging around, and that waswhere he had gone from that other thing, and there waslike maybea dozenpeople in the club and it wasjust a fantastic displayof that really mind-blowing guitarist." Another consequence of the rising interest for blues among college students was the emergence on the Chicago scene of dedicated white musicians. Most of these aspiring bluesmen were merely content to sit in with established artists, but a handful of them tended to forgo their college education to become professional players. Hooker, whose knack of detecting odd sidemen was legendary , got involved with two unconventional white artists currently in the band of drummer Sam Lay. Harmonicist Jeffrey M. Carp and guitarist Paul Asbell regularly sat in with the Hooker band from late 1968 until the first few months of 1969, when the abrupt departure of several of his sidemen compelled Hooker to recruit Carp and Asbell, at Sam Lay's expense, of course. First to leave and soon to join Muddy Waters waspiano man Pinetop Perkins, who decided to quit Earl'sElectric Dust Band while they were playing in Iowa following an argument with vocalist B. B. Odom. Next was lap steel wizard Freddie Roulette, who went his own way after several yearson and off with Hooker; his seat was taken by Paul Asbell, whereas Jeff Carp's articulate harp blowing filled in the gap left by Carey Bell, then busy recording his own debut album for Delmark Records. A sign of the changing times, the presence in Earl's outfit of bassist Gino Skaggs made it an almost all-white group. As Dick Shurman explains: "Asbell and 269 Nineteen Sixty-Nine Carp were more like students who'd come to Chicago, and who'd got into the blues scene sort ofthing, and Gino [Skaggs]wasmore like sort of a greaser.Like he was into old cars and stuff, and I thought he was apparently more of a guitar player than a bass player even though he played only bass with Hooker. That's what Louis [Myers] told me. Gino was a nice guy,I always liked him. He was a little bit older than Carp and Asbell. "Now Asbell is another guy who was pretty interesting. If you told him a number, he could automatically tell you what the square and the cube root of the number were. And Carp was really a character. He and Paul Asbell were real tight, and when Hooker worked with Carp, he wasusing Carp and Asbell together. Carp wasone of the smartest people I've ever known. He had almost a perfect grade in the hardest division of the University of Chicago, even though he spent all his time fooling around. He wasin what they call New Collegiate Division, studying some kind of music. I knew a guywho washis roommate when he wasa freshman, and this guywasvery, very straight. Apparently what happened a lot of times, in the room in the dormitory, this one guy would be on one side of the room studyingwith his head in a book, and on the other side Carp would be in bed with some lady. "Carp used to come by me 'cause I had a big collection of records, in order to learn songs note for note, sohe had me play them for him. He wasone of the most interesting people I've ever known, Jeffrey M. Carp. He wasJewish,New York I'm pretty sure. I'd say he would have been born in the late forties. Otis [Rush]'s rhythm guitar player, Billy Prewitt, lived next door to Carp and he hated it, because he said the 'nares' were always watching Carp, and he couldn't make a move without them watching him. Carp wasfriends with Little Walter, and Janis Joplin and Carp werevery good friends. Carp was a really technically proficient harp player. He still had a lot of derivativeness in his playing when I knew him, but he was good. I mean that guy was so smart, he was astounding." As usualwith Earl,Jeff Carp and Paul Asbell rarelygot paid what they were promised before a gig, but the fact that Hooker, Carp, and Asbell played for each other in turn enabled the twowhite playersto paythe guitaristback in his own coin at least on one occasion. Shurman reports: "On May8,1969, Hooker worked with their band on an early evening gigon campus. Then he drove me and my tape recorder to Pepper's, where they backed him. Actually Carp had Nineteen Sixty-Nine 270 the gigand hired Hooker, sothey cheated him on the money like he always did them. Either Carp or Asbell told me laughingly that they all knew what was happening; they shorted him, then he shorted them." The home base of this tight ensemble, rounded off by drummer Roosevelt "Snake" Shaw from Buffalo, New York, was Hooker's old South Side hangout, Johnny Pepper's Lounge, where most oftheir Chicago appearances ofApril and early May took place, often in the presence of Dick Shurman, who made tapes of the proceedings on May 1and May 8. Although Earl's music wasexciting— witness the many bandleaders, including Bobby King,L. V Banks, or King Ed' ward, who tried to catch one of Earl's late sets with the hope of sitting in—it certainly didn't rate ashis best. The harsh winter months and Hooker's refusal to settle down after his hospital stay in Januarywere suddenly taking their toll. By the spring, his disease seemed under control, but Earl was in such a state of exhaustion that he could hardly sing, playstanding up, or usehis heavy doubleneck guitar any more. It maynot have been the most appropriate time to bring Hooker back to the studio, but it still didn't keep producer Al Smith from recording him with his band in earlyMay. Smith and Hooker had known each other for a long time. The former, previously bandleader and occasional A&R man with various record ventures in the fifties—including United/States and Vee-Jay Records—had been instrumental in bringing Earl to the studio in 1957 for sessions with the Dells and Arbee Stidham. After the collapse of Vee-Jay Records, Al Smith kept an eye on the recording business, but his main activity consisted in managing Vee-Jay star Jimmy Reed. In addition to Reed's studio work, Smith helped produce sessions byJohn Lee Hooker and others for the ABC affiliated Bluesway labelduring the second half of the sixties. With Bluesway'stemporary decline, Smith launched his own company, Blues on Blues/Torrid Productions. Hooker wassitting high on his list of potential recruits, and a session washurriedly set up. On Monday, May 5, Hooker took his current band, including Carp, Asbell, Skaggs, and "Snake" Shaw, with the addition of keyboard player Boots Hamilton , into the studio. Within a fewhours, the sextet jammedenough titles fora whole album, under the lenient guidance of Al Smith, who failed to devote enough time to the careful production of a coherent musical assembly. This lack of preparation and regrettable shortsightedness on the part of both Smith and Hooker unsurprisingly led to uneven results. Forone thing, Hooker did not 271 Nineteen Sixty-Nine concentrate enough on the sound of his instrument. For obscure reasons, instead of bringing the double-cutawaySG-standard Gibson guitar that he used in clubs at the time, he walked into the studio with a lesser National instrument that limited his range of sonorities, and his wide use of electronic devices could not fully compensate for this shortcoming. But even more than his sound, EarFs choice of material was to blame. As could be expected when nobody made sure that his repertoire was properly balanced, Hooker stuck to a strict diet of guitar instrumentais, vocals being featured on two over-recorded blues standards. The first one, but for its lack of originality, wasa palatable rendition of Robert Johnson's 1936 classic "Sweet Home Chicago" that Hooker managed to make his own with his idiosyncratic guitar lines and mentions of "Marie," possiblya current lady friend. Without questioning the sincerity of his singing, his vocals sounded weak due to his physical condition, but the track still stands out in a myriad of versions of the tune with its very vocal wahwah /slide choruses. The second vocal effort of the day—a cover of Chuck Willis's 1954 hit "I Feel So Bad" retitled "Ball Game on a Rainy Day" featuring Jeff Carp's mediocre singing and a nice guitar solo by Paul Asbell—paled in comparison. The instrumental side of the session kicked off with "Wa-Wa Blues,"doubtless one of Hooker's favorite themes that already appeared twice on his Cuca album under the titles "Hooker Special" and "Hot & Heavy." Two different takes of the song—pompously labeled "Part 1"and "Part 2" when Al Smith released his tapes—were cut this time, with Hooker interspersing touches of reverb and wah-wah gurglings, even managing to slip in the first few bars of the traditional "O Suzanna" theme among other quotations. More low-downblues settings were also re-created, first with "Soul Cookin'"—an underrehearsed excuse for wah-wah/slide variations on the "Will My Man Be Home Tonight" theme—then with "The Real Blues," its ominous atmosphere owing much to Earl's gloomy guitar breaks. Hooker's most remarkable contributions of the day didn't belong to the blues repertoire; the band got into a bop groove with "Hooker Cooker" and "Huckle Bug." This sarcastic tribute to Earl's "TB bug" was a modernized version of the venerable Paul Williams classic, "The Huckle-Buck," which topped Billboard's "Race Records Juke Box Charts" for a record fourteen weeks in 1949. Largely inspired byCharlie Parker's "Now's the Time," it had already been covNineteen Sixty-Nine 212 ered by Hooker in 1953 for the Sun label Raising the uneven standard of this May 1969 session, EarFs "Huckle Bug" is an unprecedented journey through musical genres as diversified as blues, bebop, and country & western, as was noted by critic Pete Welding in 1976. "Listen to his gripping treatment of the venerable jump-blues classic, 'Huckle Buck/ Within two choruses Earl has taken a simple blues riff through several of its permutations: first into the 'Huckle Buck* theme, then into its bebop incarnation as 'Now's the Time/ then Charlie Parker's 'Ornithology' (the altoist's paraphrase of 'How High the Moon') for two bars, followed by a fleeting variation on that, and then off into his own spontaneous inventions. Simply astounding."3 In a similarvein, "Hooker Cooker" isa breathtaking instrumental borrowed from the repertoire of saxophonist Gene Ammons. Originally called "Blue Greens and Beans," this brilliant composition of jazz pianist Mai Waldron had already popped up in the demo tapes Hooker had sent to Cuca Records' Jim Kirchstein two years earlier. This 1969 version is much more elaborate due to the band's cohesion, and Hooker's creativity can explode; a mere listen to the incredibly fluent unison vocal-guitar chorus found midwaythrough the tune— recorded nearly a decade before George Benson's exploratory forays in this field—shows how much ahead of his time Hooker was. As a whole, even though the quality ofEarl'smusiccould hardly be doubted, this experimental journey lacked the accessibility required of commercially successful productions. This didn't escape the notice of Al Smith, who waited almost two yearsand until Hooker's death before he finally released this hastily recorded session on his Blues On Blues label in a cheaply packaged memorial album titled Funk—Last of theGreat Earl Hooker. Due to improper distribution and bad pressing quality, the album was marketed barely long enough for the specialized press to publish lukewarm write-ups. It was not before 1976 and their reissue on the California-based Antilles label that Hooker fans were at last treated to a properly pressed, re-edited version of Smith's tapes, along with excellent liner notes by Pete Welding. The second in a series of six recording dates involving Earl Hooker, set up within one same month byvariousproducers, brought Hooker back to Los Angeles , where Ike Turner had worked out an album deal for him with outside help from a young manager named Denny Bruce. California then boasted the most active rock scene in the country. Its foremost representatives, in an at273 Nineteen Sixty-Nine tempt at expressing their sincere appreciation to the members of the blues community, were quick to payhomage to their initiators. One of the first in the record business to catch on with this phenomenon wasBobKrasnow.This selfcalled "con man with ethnic credentials" ("I had all the ethnic qualities—Iwas white, I wasJewish, they could invite me over to their house for dinner, and I could talk to black people,"4 Krasnow once said in his usual blunt way) started out plugging country hits for the King company in 1958 before he did A&R work for Warner Brothers, eventually becoming head of Elektra Records in the 1980s. In 1968, Krasnow launched his Blue Thumb label—operated out of Beverly Hills at 427 North Canon Drive—after hitting upon the idea of releasing black blues albums aimed at the white rock-blues market. Among the artists Krasnow contracted for initial Blue Thumb releases were Ike & Tina Turner, who knew Krasnowfrom their 1964 stint with Warner Brothers, and a first album of pure blues and R&B material was cut during the first of 1969 by the husband-and-wife duet. On the strength ofthis initial experience, Krasnow set up a second Ike & Tina session involving Texas guitarist Albert Collins in the spring, before turning to Ike for advice, and the name of Earl Hooker cropped up in conversation. Sixteen years after the legendary Sun demo session likely initiated by Ike Turner in the early summer of 1953, Krasnow invited Earl Hooker out to California to record an instrumental album, and through Denny Bruce a date was set. Turner's musicians were to be used for the session, but Earl wished to visit California clubs in the process, and he drummed up his favorite sidemen, leaving Chicago on Friday, May 9, heading for California. Other than the current members of his rhythm section, Roosevelt Shaw, Gino Skaggs, Jeff Carp, and Paul Asbell, Earl brought with him vocalist B. B. Odom, who kept vividmemories of the event: "I was singin' up with Junior Wells in Buffalo, New York, at the Governor's Inn. And when I called my wife, she told me that Hooker wanted me to go to California. He had got an offer to come and he axed me to go. He say, 'If you don't go out, I don't wanna go without takin' you, because you're my star singer.' So anyway, I left Junior and them on the road and I came back to Chicago, and I stayed there for about two days. Then Hooker and the band, we driven out to California." Hooker's Blue Thumb session got under way shortly after his arrival on the West Coast. The event was jointly produced by Bob Krasnow and Ike Turner, Nineteen Sixty-Nine 274 whose current bassist and drummer provided the backing heard on the dozen tracks taped for the occasion. "He was sick as hell when we contacted him," Krasnow recalled later in Rolling Stone. "When he felt well enough, he came out and did the session and a couple of LosAngeles jobs."5 In spite of Hooker's health problems, the outcome of this session was interesting for various reasons , not the least being the presence of Ike Turner's superlative piano playing on every track, while Chicago harp man "Little" Mack Simmons, currently touring southern California, guested on several tracks. On a lessfavorable note, Turner was also responsible for marring half of the tracks with fussy brass arrangements, and this was,once again, an uneven session. Alongside a forgettable instrumental version of "Cross Cut Saw," the Tommy McClennan classic popularizedbyAlbert King in 1966, one could find the slow-paced "Funky Blues"—"by EarlChicago-No-Thinkin' Hooker," asannounced humorously by a voice coming from the control booth—in which Hooker's guitar sounds lost behind a solid wall of horn punctuations. Also featured wasyet another version of "Sweet Black Angel" that sawHooker exhibit his best slide work before moving into unspirited improvisations studded with honking brass. This left "I Feel Good"—an instrumental rendition of James Brown's 1965 hit—as the only song in which Ike Turner's brass arrangements were used to good effect, as Hooker deftly replaced Brown's hoarse vocals with sweet wah-ed slide lines. The other half of the session fortunately made up for previous inadequacies, the band's simple backing providing Earl with a fitting occasion to display his proficiency and versatility in all freedom, first paying homage to the boogiewoogie tradition with "Boogie, Don't Blot," a lightning quick piano-guitar duet highlighted by Turner's keyboard playing and Little Mack Simmons's powerful harp blowing. This side wasso infectious, in fact, that it wasreleased on a 45 in the fall to boost the sales of the album. In a different vein, "Country & Western " shows the extent ofHooker's debt to the hillbilly sounds ofhis youth, with more quotations from "O Suzanna," while "Shuffle" is an impeccable wah-wah festival with touches ofT-Bone Walker interspersed all along. The Delta tradition was not forgotten, with a revamped version of the old "Catfish Blues" standard in which Little Mack's naive harmonica licks balance the progressiveness of Earl's wah-wah phrases, the tune reaching a climax with a stratospheric slide chorus. 275 Nineteen Sixty-Nine For his only vocal effort of the day, Hooker didn't reach very deep into his memory when he chose "Sweet Home Chicago," sungjust days earlier at his Al Smith date; this second version—played this time in the key of E, one full step higher than the previous version in D—if it illustrates EarPs lack of originality with regards to his vocal material, fares better than its predecessor due to Ike Turner's strong left-hand work. As for Hooker's singing, it radiates an unexpected strength and range that seems to indicate that the warm southern California climate suited his health better than the Chicago spring, so much so that the unusual geographical notions of the original creator of the song, Robert Johnson, take on their full meaning in EarPs mouth: "Come on, baby don't you wanna go / Back to the land of California, sweet home Chicago." The session's finest item probably is "Drivin' Wheel," the venerable classic of piano master Roosevelt Sykes popularizedby Junior Parker on his definitive 1961 cover. Ike Turner deserves a special mention for the wayhis subtle piano backing supports EarPs superlative work. And even though Sweet Black Angel was chosen for the album title when it was time for Bob Krasnow to release these tapes, "Drivin' Wheel" crystallizedthe two men's complicity more than any other track. Mention should also be made of "The Mood," which saw Ike take up guitar chores to show Earl that his guitar lessons had been fruitful. At the conclusion of the recording, Krasnow set up a photo session with a fine photographer named John Hayes, in anticipation of the album artwork. The picture kept for the back sleeve commemorated the reunion of Chicagoans Hooker and Simmons in front of carefully emptied bottles; as for the cover shot, it wasa superb black-and-white portrait of Hooker in a typical southern California street setting, opening the passenger door of an old car while protecting himself with a dark umbrella from an imaginary shower of rain. Already in LosAngeles for the Blue Thumb recording, Hooker wished to familiarize himself with the local scene, and he immediately set about visiting clubs with his band in the hope of finding engagements while they were in town. Until 1973 when it finally closed down following a fire, Ed Pearl's Ash Grove on Melrose Avenue in Hollywood was a rare club in L.A., outside the Watts ghetto, where blues musicians could find work. This folk hangout was used as a home base by local artists Pee Wee Crayton, "Big Mama" Thornton, and Don "Sugarcane" Harris, but rock celebrities like Mike Bloomfield,Janis Nineteen Sixty-Nine 276 Joplin, Bob Hite and Al Wilson of Canned Heat, and Jimi Hendrix regularly dropped in for informaljam sessions. The band currently playing at the Ash Grove was that of Albert Collins. Collins, whose flamboyant showmanship almost equaled Hooker's dynamism on the stage, wasanother eccentric guitarist with a strong penchant for instrumental showcases; Hooker had even borrowed his guitar tour-de-force, "Frosty," at one of his Cuca sessions. In the spring of 1969, Collins had barely finished recording the lead guitar parts behind Ike and Tina Turner for their second Blue Thumb set, and his act at the Ash Grove was spiced by the presence on stage of both Hooker and Little Mack, who sat in with his band several times, much to the delight of the club's capacity crowds. At the Ash Grove, Hooker and band also got a chance to meet various rock stars, including Janis Joplin, who was on friendly terms with harp man Jeff Carp. "She was around at this club, and she was a hell of a artist, man," B. B. Odom reports. "That's where we met a lot of the Blood, Sweat & Tears, and guys like that. We all got together and wedid a lot ofjam sessions. That's when Jimi Hendrix was there. In fact, it was about six or seven bands a night in this place we played in." Jammingwith someone like Hendrix may well have been the dream of most guitar players at the time, but it left Hooker quite unimpressed , according to Dick Shurman: "Jimi Hendrix obviously had a tremendous respect for the blues scene, like there's a long period when Elmore Qames] and Albert Kingand Hubert [Sumlin] wasthe main influence on him sohewas obviously aware ofthat scene. After Hooker came back from California—that's the kinda guyHooker was—I wasasking what it waslike out there and he said, 'Oh, I had a good time,' and I said, 'Who did you play with out there?' and he said, 'You see, there was this one guy,he plays left-handed with a big head of hair, played real loud,' and I said, 'Jimi Hendrix?' and he said, 'Oh yeah, that was his name!' You know, he played with him but he didn't even bother to remember his name!" Earl's attitude mayseem surprising,but the followinganecdote recounted by Bob Krasnow at the time of Hooker's death illustrates the gulf that separated a scuffling bluesman like Hooker from an adulated rock icon like Hendrix. "One night we were driving to a club and I started telling him about Jimi Hendrix, how he waswhere it wasat now ... how he got $50,000 for one night's work. '$50,000 for playin' the guitar?' he said. 'Shit. I'd climb inside the guitar for 277 Nineteen Sixty-Nine $500.'"6 Denny Bruce, the agent currently booking jobs in California for Earl and band, was also struck by the sharp contrast between Hooker's genius and his limited means: "I lent him money to buy a $75 Japanese guitar that had three pickups and all kinds of knobs. After one night he broke a string and when a set of real strings wereput on the sound wascheap and horrible. One of the pickups worked itself loose and was hanging out—it was funny, but sad at the same time." In order to keep his group working while he did his Blue Thumb session, Hooker had come to an understanding with Denny Bruce, who eventually worked out a deal with Earl's cousin John Lee. "He brought B. B.Jr. Odom and five or six other guys (it was supposed to be a trio!), so they made hardly any money, and I booked him on a show with John Lee Hooker," Bruce recalled. This encounter enabled Earl to stay on the West Coast longer than anticipated , opening the door to a string of recording sessions. John LeeHooker, one of the best-known and most lavishlyrecorded blues artists in the trade, started out hiring EarPs band as a traveling unit for a set of club dates in California before he offered to use them on an upcoming recording session for the ABCBluesway label, programmed for late May. Earl had admired John Lee since childhood, and he was glad to accept his cousin's offer, although it alienated Denny Bruce,who didn't particularlylike the fact that the ABC deal wasmade behind his back. As the new recording session loomed ahead, Earl considered adding a keyboard player to his band. Rather than pick up an unknown sideman in Los Angeles, he sent for his old road companion Johnny "Big Moose" Walker, who flew in from Chicago at his request. "What happened," Big Moose explained, laughing at the recollection, "I flew a plane up there. He sent me a plane ticket and I just came by myself. And Hooker got mad because the plane didn't fall, 'cause I got there safe! I walked out of the plane and he said, 'This j-j-j-just ain't my day,man!' And then he showed me, in his pocket he had a life insurance on me! He took insurance on me! He figgered one wayaround he had to have some money ifthe plane fall down. I got off the plane and that cat got mad, 'Y-y-y-you m-m-mean that thing didn't fall d-d-down? Looka here, man, w-w-what I had if the p-p-plane had fall down.' I laughed, man, I said, 'You crazy!'" Managing to recover from this major disappointment, Earl,with his band in tow, finally walked into the studio for John Lee's session in the very early afterNineteen Sixty-Nine 278 noon of Thursday, May 29. This was John Lee's fourth recording date for the ABC subsidiary Bluesway, but quite a few changes had come up since John Lee had recorded his previousLP one year earlier, after ABC's artistic management left New York City to settle in LosAngeles at 8255 Beverly Boulevard. In the wake of this move, former jazz and blues A&R man BobThiele wasreplaced by Edward Michel, a talented producer with a much keener ear for blues than his predecessor. Michel had met and worked with John Lee Hooker before, and he arranged to record him on the occasion of his visit to LosAngeles, but he had no inkling ofwho John Leewascurrently playingwith. It wasnot until the musicians arrived at the Vault recording studios that he got to meet Earl. Things went both smoothly and quickly. Michel, after taping eleven sides featuring John Leewithin a matter ofhours, wasso taken by EarPs work that he offered on the spot to record an album with him. "I knew that John wascarrying a good band, but I didn't know how good," Michel reported later. "I got to know everyone when they showed up in the studio with John Lee for his date: Moose Walker, Gino Skaggs on bass, and Roosevelt Shaw on drums, and adding two white Chicago players, Jeff Carp on harp and Paul Asbell occasionally on guitar. Things went so well that we recorded Earl's album later the same day,with the same personnel, adding 'Voice' Odom—Earl wasquite insecure about his vocals, and felt he needed extra singers. At that point,Bluesway productions were very low-budget,quite quick—usually one-day—affairs, with everyone showing up in the studio usually around noon, for sessions which would, again usually, be over by six in the afternoon. I was recording in fourtrack at that point, using Vault Studios, which wascheap and adequate, andwe didn't dawdle, getting enough material for an album and knocking off.There were usuallysome leftover takes of things, but, quite frankly, they weren't good enough, or they would have been used in the albums. There wasn't time or budget enough to go for the degree of fineness I would have liked." May 29 was a very busy day indeed, and over twenty titles were recorded altogether in the afternoon. Regardless of the limited amount of time and money involved, most of these tracks are up to the standard—both technically and musically—of the finest blues recordings of the era. If Earl's band members certainly were gifted musicians, Ed Michel must get credit for his fine work,especially taking into account Earl's usual unpredictability. This double session proved thoroughly tiresome for everyone nonetheless, things being madeworse 279 Nineteen Sixty-Nine by the exhausting heat that rapidly built up in the studio and that accounted for the large quantity of Pepsi-Cola consumed that day. Bluesway's appointed photographer Phil Melnick made countless shots of the musicians all along the proceedings. Judging from his abundant crop, if Hooker's polka-dot cowboy shirt wasneatly buttoned up when the band started working, if wasn't long before Earl stripped to the waist.Jeff Carp followed his example, blowinghis harp bare-chested, wearing a pair of psychedelic pants, whereas BigMoose Walker's fading hair process had him looking as shaggy as Carp. John Lee Hooker's own set was quite a contrast due to the different approach to blues music displayed by the two cousins. To tremendous effect, Earl's progressive accompaniment pushed into the limelight John Lee's rougher, more primitive guitar styling, making this old times/new times reunion a true success. Eleven tunes were recorded, with only two alternate takes, Earl Hooker giving up his seat to Paul Asbell on two tracks. If results were excellent as a general rule, the fast boogie items that made John Lee's reputation didn't prevail this time; slowsullen numbers like "I Wanna BeYour Puppy, Baby"or the exceptional "Lonesome Mood," showcasing Earl's discreet wah-wah, Moose Walker's brooding organ, and Carp's moody harp, contributed to a large extent to the day's success. A noteworthy effort was "The Hookers (If YouMiss 'Im ...)," a weird tribute to the Hooker dynasty. Highlighted by Earl's moving slide phrases, this uncanny tale of clannishness benefited from the piano work of Big Moose Walker, who set the pace with his emotion-laden figures before John Lee started rapping: Looka here! I'm gonna tellyoua story—about the Hookers ... Me and Earl Hooker went down on 47th Street one night—you know, on 47th—forgas. We went into a club—we wasstandin' at the bar that night—and some cat— he started to riotin'—with Earl. I said, "Earl, you got 'im?"—That wason 47th Street [Same pace—Earl Hooker and Jeff Carp join in with the rest of the band] He said, "Yeah!" The Hookers! If you miss 'im ... I got 'im—If you miss 'im ... I got 'im. I said, "Everythin' cool, baby, I got 'im"—The Hookers!Don't mess with the Hookers. Unsurprisingly, this statement of family pride gave its title to the John Lee Hooker featuring Earl Hooker album that wasreleased one year later, with a nice front cover picture of the Hookers standing in neat cowboy outfits under the Nineteen Sixty-Nine 280 hot Californian sun. The set was well received by the musical press. As much as the music itself, reviewersacknowledged the talent of Ed Michel, who managed to revitalize John Lee Hooker's music. "Earl Hooker, Big Moose and Jeff Carp lend a lot of weight to all the performances providing us with an above average set. Excellently recorded and very well played, it should delight fans of John Lee Today/" Blues Unlimited founder Mike Leadbitter wrote in the January 1971 issue of the magazine.7 A parallel can be drawn between this John Lee Hooker session and the tracks recorded by Hooker for Muddy Waters in 1962. In both cases, EarPs innovating styling helped present an aging bluesman in a new light. Critic Fred Stuckey implicitly accepted this as a fact when he stated in Guitar Player that John Lee Hooker's "best cuts were made with Eddie Taylor for Veejay records [in the fifties and early sixties] and 'spot' records like the one he made for Bluesway featuring his cousin, the late Earl Hooker, as second guitarist."8 This assertion, published in 1971, proves once more that recognition came too late for Hooker, who met his fate several months before Stuckey's laudatory comments . Fortunately enough, EarPs own Bluesway material was marketed during his lifetime, and he wasat least able to read some ofthe positive comments that started coming out before his death the following spring. Pete Lowry, hailing EarPs Bluesway set as "the best blues album I've heard this year"9 in the December 1969 issue of Blues Unlimited, did not exceed reality, for these sides stand today as Hooker's finest musical legacy, along with his first Arhoolie album and the Mel London material. Ed Michel's main achievement—helped in this respect by sound engineer Ed Fournier—was to give the whole session both coherence and consistency, qualities Earl normally lacked. When Mel London had provided Earl with an instantly recognizable sound in the early sixties, Michel managed to capture on vinyl the tone quality and wide range of shades Earl squeezedout of his instrument . Michel quickly realized that the presence of competent vocalists by Hooker's side woulddiversify his output, but like Strachwitz six months earlier, he insisted that Hooker overcome his vocal shyness and tackle a couple of songs. Results went far beyond all expectations, for Earl contributed two strong vocal numbers deeply rooted in the St. Louis R&B tradition—both belonging to the repertoire of Ike Turner's Kings of Rhythm: "You Got to Lose," an uptempo side borrowed from EarPs friend Jackie Brenston, and "Don't Have to 281 Nineteen Sixty-Nine Worry," a retitled version of a 1956 Federal recording by singer Billy Gayles originally called "Do Right Baby." The strength and wind needed for the proper delivery of such tunes, as evidenced by Brenston's bellows on the original version of "You Got to Lose,"10 apparently were not within the reach of a man whose lungs amounted to very little. Yet for all his weakness, Earl still sounded credible as he obviously took pleasure in singing, even managing to squeeze a reference to his Waterloo, Iowa, girlfriend Rosemaryin "Don't Have to Worry."The listener willfind further confirmation of EarPs vocal conviction in the fact that his guitar work was limited here, since it was Paul Asbell who played the song's brilliant, flowing solo. Hooker's fingers hadn't grown numb for all that, and the instrumental support he gavehis guest vocalists was as spirited as ever. BigMoose Walker's own two offerings were of unequal interest; in particular, his rendition of the Jazz Gillum classic "Look over Yonder'sWall" turned out to be the most insipid effort cut that day.On the contrary, his version of "Is YouEver Seen a One-Eyed Woman Cry?"—a traditional theme with uncanny lyrics, already recorded by Lightnin' Hopkins in 1959,11 that poet Längsten Hughes once recalled hearing sung by early jazz players in Paris in 192412 —featured forceful piano parts and Earl's deeply emotional slide/wah-wah work.On this latter offering, BigMoose proved that he was a capable singer, even though his rough technique was hardly as elaborate as B. B. Odom's. The latter's own three vocal contributions, in a class with Hooker's "You Got to Lose," presented him in a very favorable light as he wisely stayed away from his idol, B. B. King. In addition to two self-penned numbers, "Moanin' and Groanin" and "Come to Me Right Away, Baby," Odom's most worthy effort was a masterly version of ElmoreJames's "The Sky Is Crying," Odom and the rest ofthe band succeeding in instilling freshness and emotion in their rendition of this widely covered standard. Earl's haunting wah-wah slide, Big Moose's faultless piano touches, Jeff Carp's sensitive harp and Odom's earnest delivery all contributed to the subtle recreation ofthe dreary,rainy atmosphere conjured up by ElmoreJamesand producer Bobby Robinson when theyjointly wrote the original on a cold and torrential November afternoon in Chicago a decade earlier. The instrumental side of the Bluesway session proved slightly disappointing. When the Arhoolie date presented previously unrecorded ideas and techNineteen Sixty-Nine 282 niques, this one yielded two updated versions of Mel London classics and a lengthy adaptation of Bill Doggett's 1956 hit "Honky Tonk" retitled "Hookin'." "Blue Guitar," although not a bad track in itself, falls short of the original because it lacks the spontaneity that made EarPs Age hit so poignant. The same cannot be said of "Universal Rock," EarPs modernized version unquestionably matching the drive and authenticity of its 1960 forebear, with its staccato guitar lines and deft wah-wah work propelled by Snake Shaw's punchy drumming. Thus ended this prolific double Bluesway event. On the strength of his rewarding crop, EdMichel decided to postpone the release ofJohn Lee's LP in order to issue all except two of EarPs own sides. In the meantime, he was determined not to let Hooker and his men vanish from his sight without capturing more of their thrilling music on tape, and additional sessions for both B. B. Odom and Big Moose Walker were set up for the following week. The days after these first Bluesway recordings saw the Hooker band busy playing club gigs in California with John Lee Hooker. This period was not free from minor hassles, especially after arguments over financial issues developed between Earl and some of his sidemen. Underpaid by their bandleader, Jeff Carp, Paul Asbell, and Roosevelt Shaw decided to play safe and go back to Chicago with their share of session money. This was the last time Earl would ever work with Carp, whose promising career came to an abrupt end on New Year's Eve 1972, when the harmonicist was last seen jumping off a boat in Panama after one of the people he was celebrating with pulled out a knife and started using it on other passengers. By the following Wednesday, June 4, it was time for Earl, B. B. Odom, and Moose Walker to return to the studios located at 2525 West 9th Street inLos Angeles—today a Korean Baptist church—for Odom's own session. Michel's idea when he decided to cut an album with B. B. Odom was to place the vocalist in a different setting from the one used a fewdays earlier, in order to show that EarPs singer was not just another Chicago-based B. B. King stylist. Firstof all, Michel insisted on having Odom use his own material, only two of the tracks cut then being King songs. Next, Michel hired two expert jazz veterans, drummer Panama Francis and stand-up bassist Jimmy Bond to create a more relaxed , after-hours atmosphere enhanced by the presence on guitar of Hooker, who was asked to put aside his wah-wah pedal and steel slide temporarily. With the exception of the session's first item—a slow blues titled "I Got the 283 Nineteen Sixty-Nine Feelin'" reminiscent of the first Bluesway date—this jazz groove was retained throughout the session. The singer's main claim to success washis faultless collusion with Hooker, whose spirited backing complemented Odom's inspired work on both slow and fast numbers, the bouncing "Don't Ever Leave Me All Alone" as well as the pensive and profoundly sad "Long About Sunrise." One of the date's highlights wasthe old T-Bone Walker warhorse "Stormy Monday" that Hooker turned into a tribute to his most influential source of inspiration after Robert Nighthawk as he appropriated and transcended Walker's famous guitar licks with adroitness. Although allusions to T-Bone Walker were not as obvious on the remaining titles, the influence the old Texas master exerted on Hooker's playing shines through each one of the forceful straight-picked phrases heard behind B.B.Odom. Unfortunately, this project wasnot very well received by critics, and the material put on wax on that early June afternoon passed almost unnoticed when it finally appeared on the Bluesway label in 1973. Some fans especially failed to grasp the fact that Hooker wasn't a mere pursuer of the Delta tradition; British specialist Mike Leadbitter expressed this utter incomprehension when he wrote at the time: "What a bitter disappointment ! Muffled sound, endless boring songs and a total lack of variation. What have Bluesway done to my heroes?"13 On the other hand, the same Mike Leadbitter was responsible for the dithyrambic write-up published in the January 1971 issue of Blues Unlimited, following the release ofJohnny BigMoose Walker's own set, recorded five days after Odom's album: "He plays piano with the sort of boogie-woogie drive you just don't hear any more, and has a nice husky voice—this is an exceptionally good blues album. Earl Hooker really puts his all into the accompaniment and Otis Hale blows good raunchy sax. Rocking goodtime music that is almost an echo from the past."14 The odd musical setting of the Odom sampler, which had taken aback conservatory blues fans, was replaced on the Moose Walker album by the type of accompaniment expected from a rough Delta-born pianist like Moose. If both Hooker and saxophonist Otis Hale did acknowledge progressiveness in their playing—as evidenced by their systematic use of wah-wah pedals—their music reassuringly belonged to the pureChicago tradition. As such, it certainly didn't run the risk of offending conservative ears. Several parameters kept this from being a predictable set, notably the fact that most titles were Moose's own comNineteen Sixty-Nine 284 positions, bearing evidence to the man's talent asa tunesmith. Another reason was related to the awkward circumstances that led to the presence of saxophonist Otis Hale, recruited on the eve of the session to fill in the gap left in the band after Jeff Carp's abrupt departure, Big Moose Walker explains: "Otis Hale? I picked him up in a park! I went out there 'cause they was sellin' hot dogs and stuff out there. I sit out there for a half hour and heard him blow, see. Fs on a bench. He asked me for a hot dog, and I told him, 'Yeah!' I said, 'Hey, you wanna make some money?' He said, 'Yeah, how much?' I said, "Bout fifty, a hundred dollars.' He said, 'You gotta be kiddin'! ! !' I said, 'Yeah, I mean it. I'm gonna cut a record tomorrow and I want you on the LP.' I first wouldn't wanna use a horn, I's gonna use a harp, but when I heard this cat playin', I said, 'Jesus Christ, I can put this cat on the record.' Because he wasblowin' the blues on my style. I wanted to make sure that I'd get this guyon the LP.I took him to my place and kept him all night, I waswatchin' the door, I didn't want him to get out and leave me." On the next day, Monday, June 9, Moose Walker and his slender, longhaired saxplayerwalked into the Vault studios, where they joined Earl Hooker, bassist Gino Skaggs, and Paul Humphrey, a punchy soul and jazz studio drummer whom Ed Michel hired for the session. Busy immortalizing the event was photographer Phil Melnick, while soundman Ed Fournier stood at the board. "It took me three hours and forty minutes to cut the ten sides," Big Moose Walker recalls. "When I got to the studio, I just told everybody,'Play blues just like you play on the bandstand.'" Ten selections were released on Moose's Bluesway album, but a total of twelve were recorded altogether, "She's Got a Good One" and "All MyLove" remaining in the can. Big Moose Walker opened fire on the organ with a version of "Rambling Woman," a favorite of his that he had already cut two years earlier with lap steel guitarist Freddie Roulette. This time, Hooker wasresponsible for the hot guitar parts on this new version; his arpeggio runs frenetically drive the rest of the band from the front while Otis Hale contributes a long solo midway through the song, giving the impression that he has played with Hooker and band for years. "Rambling Woman" was followed by "Baby Talk," a superb organ reworking of Moose's "Talkin' About Me," recorded in 1955 already in Los Angeles for Johnny Otis's Ultra label. This traditional boogie theme was brightened by one solo spot each from Earl Hooker and Otis Hale, who both 285 Nineteen Sixty-Nine hinted at the superlative performance that they were going to give throughout the session. Forthe third number, Moose moved to the piano stool and went on with "Footrace," the springy intro passage of which he borrowed from his own electric piano contribution to Earl's 1960 Age side, "Swear to Tell the Truth." Big Moose's repertoire also included a fine version of "The Sky Is Crying" featuring Hooker's stately slide passagesthat Moose's hoarse, unpolished vocals made utterly different from the more sophisticated B. B. Odom version taped on May 29. The virtuosity of the musicians was featured on two lengthy instrumental pieces, both of which sounded familiar. The first one, aptly titled "Moose Is on the Loose," was an updated rendition of a number Hooker and Moose had recorded for Carl Jones in 1959 with Lorenzo Smith. As for "Moose Huntin'," it was an improvisation on the "Two Bugs and a Roach" theme that soon turned into a wah-wah conversation between Hooker and Hale, ending with a breathtaking call and response duet. With this unconventional instrumental dialogue, Moose's session came to a close and put a temporary end to Hooker's association with Bluesway and its artistic manager, Ed Michel. As for Otis Hale, after making a brilliant contribution to the blues of the late sixties by a strange combination of circumstances, he quietly walked out after receiving his performance fee. As was customary with Bluesway, outdoor pictures were left to the care of Phil Melnick. With the skill that characterized him, the label's appointed photographer caught a serious looking Hooker proudly leaning on the side of a newly acquired bus, while a laughing BigMoose Walker was immortalized in a fancy black-and-white Western costume, and both pictures later appeared on the covers of the two men's albums. Instead of driving back to the Windy City with the secondhand bus he had just purchased in LosAngeles, Hooker and band chose to hang around California for a while and work the nightclub scene in both LosAngeles and San Francisco, hoping to make their stay worth their while. This decision presented Moose Walker with a serious problem, for the pianist didn't have his musical equipment near at hand, and he had to make the return trip to Illinois to pick up his electric piano and amplifier before he could join his friends in the San Francisco Bay area. "We's out there about a month, and Earl played some gigs with John Lee," Walker explains. "We was in California anyway and we was there so we played some jobs. John Lee did that to Nineteen Sixty-Nine 286 help us, because otherwise we was short on finance, you know, so he just let us play to make some money." On the strength of John Lee Hooker's well-established reputation, EarPs Electric Dust Band rapidly turned into a relatively popular one in California. The tremendous response they got in the colleges and clubs where they appeared provided them with continuous engagements through the month of June in variousSan Francisco locations, such asthe LogCabin or the Matrix— the city's "folk-rock club," operated by Jefferson Airplane founder Marty Balin—as wellason the Berkeleycampusor in the variousblack neighborhood bars of Oakland, across the Bayfrom San Francisco. As time passed, it almost seemed that Hooker's band wasgoing to settle on the West Coast for good, and Hooker did greatly enjoy his stay. The five recording dates he had done and the engagements he obtained with relative ease, even though he could hardly be considered a local blues figure, were a positive sign of his growing reputation. In San Francisco especially he developed a local following, even giving guitar lessons to young musicians like Joe Louis Walker: "At the time, I wasopening with myband for people like Earl at the Matrix and, man! Hooker was incredible! He taught me a lot about the slide, he had such a light touch, it was amazing to see him play." In the BayArea, Hooker also got to meet one ofhis idols, "sepia Sinatra" pianist Charles Brown, and he ran into several friends. One of them wasCharlie Musselwhite, a Mississippi-born harmonicist who had spent several years in Chicago before settling in Oakland. Musselwhite's current band, the Chicago Blues All Stars, included Earl's former lap steel guitarist Freddie Roulette, who had recently made California his home. But most of all, fronting Musselwhite's outfit during the summer of 1969 was Earl's childhood friend Louis Myers. Moose, Hooker, and Myers would often hang around together during the day, appearing with each other's band at night. Sitting in with passingbluesmen was one of Earl's favorite occupations. Always eager to outplay his peers, he found it very gratifying to perform in front of appreciative audiences in the concert halls at the invitation of major artists. Earl wasgiven one such opportunity at a concert B. B. King wasgiving at the Fillmore West, San Francisco's temple of rock music. According to Ed Michel: "I remember B. B. King telling me about one night at the Fillmore West when he was besieged by every guitarist in San Francisco's sitting in with him—most of the rock 'n' rollplayers 287 Nineteen Sixty-Nine idolized B. B., but he was getting a little bored with all of them. However, he said that Earl came in and played a couple of choruses with his teeth that blew everyone away. I could hardly believe that until I caught Earl with his band at a club in Chicago, and I heard him play better with his teeth than almost anyone else could do with their hands. Absolutely amazing!" The fact that Hooker was becoming in demand at last had many positive implications. One of them wasthat his income followed the ascending trend of his success, with fees he collected from his various contributions in the studio and the money he received to play college and club dates. After his bus, his next purchase was a fine semi-acoustic Trini Lopez Standard Gibson guitar— easy to recognize with its diamond-shaped sound holes and single-sided headstock —that replaced his Gibson SG model. The next step was to get an amplifier. The one that BigMoose had brought back from Chicago along with his electric piano wasa particularly worthwhile $1,500 Ampeg model that Earl had coveted for quite some time, and that he wanted to get at all costs. Anticipating Moose's refusal to part with his gear, Earl decided to take the offensive and concocted one of his shady schemes. Hooker was aware that the situation of his sidemen was uncertain when they depended on his goodwill to survive in a strange territory. When it was time for him to pay Moose for his club work,Hooker pulled the usualrabbit out of his hat, in the presence of Louis Myers, who later told the story to Dick Shurman: "Louis [Myers]was in Moose's room rapping, and Hooker called him up to saythat he could only pay him five bucks for the first two weeks' worth of work. They had this big argument, and Moose wasso mad that he slammed his phone sohard that it broke. Hooker said he wascoming over at the hotel, and so Louis ran down with Moose to meet Hooker. Moose grabbed Hooker by the collar, and Hooker said to Moose with this really angelic voice, he says, 'You can't hit me, 'cause if you hit me I'm fixin' to die,' and Moose started shaking. He knew he wasright but he couldn't punch him 'cause he wasso sick that it probably would have killed him, and he would have got in a lot of trouble, so eventually he just sort of let it fume for a while." In the end, ashe needed to get back to Chicago, Walker had no other option but to let Hooker have his precious amp. However pathetic, this incident did not mark the end of Moose's long-standing friendship for Earl, proving that Hooker undoubtedly displayed some sort of psychological understanding; if his reckless behavior often was on Nineteen Sixty-Nine 288 the verge of getting him involved in fatal trouble, he obviouslyknew how far he could gowith the people he misused. The band's stay on the West Coast was drawingto a close. B. B. Odom left first, because his wife was anxious to see him, heading for Chicago with John Lee Hooker. As for Earl, he eventually drove his new bus back to the Midwest in late June with Big Moose following in his own car. Before he left, Earl secured additional recording engagements, and his return to Illinois was a brief one. While in the BayArea, Hooker had taken the time to visit Chris Strachwitz in Berkeley, where the latter operated his Arhoolie label. Among other topics, the two men considered the possibilityofcutting a second Arhoolie set, and a session was set up for July 18 at Berkeley's Sierra Sound studios. Hooker's first Arhoolie set, Two Bugs and a Roach, was out since the early spring, and initial sales indicated that it wouldbe a firm seller for the company. Strachwitz's expectations were confirmed during the following decade, as the company ended up selling over twelve thousand copies of the LP,quite a feat for a blues album then. The laudatory reviewspublished when the record came out werecertainly helpful. While the albumrated four and a half stars in Down Beat, Arhoolie and Earl Hooker held a place a honor in the July issue of England 's Blues Unlimited. Apart from a half-page variant of the fine portrait of Earl found on the Arhoolie cover, Blues Unlimited's reviewsection boasted a vehement eulogy of the record that would embarrass the most immodest artist: "This should have been called the Earl Hooker Show!" wrote MikeLeadbitter. "There's a whole lot offine talent packed into one LP.... The greatest track is 'Anna Lee,' probablythe best Delta bluesrecorded this year.... Both vocal and slide work can only be described as stunning.... Hooker is a musician's musician . His command ofhis hefty instrument is incredible. On this albumhe lives up to his huge reputation. . . . Leave 'Wah-Wah' to the new breed, you'lldig nearly all the rest—and it's that rest which makes this a must for anyone who wants soul Chicago blues. Fine cover, fine notes, excellent recording quality. Chris is a jolly good fellow, or so says one of us."15 Apart from the remarkconcerning Earl's use of the wah-wah pedal, the musician and the producer could hardly expect more, but Hooker's second Arhoolie set re-created only to a certain extent the auspiciouscircumstances that had led to the first's success. Even though similar moments were reached at points, this second attempt wasnot as masterly, in spite of the presence be289 Nineteen Sixty-Nine hind Hooker of a competent rhythm unit including Gino Skaggs on bass and his longtime Cairo drummerBobby JoeJohnson. The session's main shortcoming was its vocal side; this time again, singing chores were not left under EarPs sole responsibility, but the additional singers featured on this date didn't compare with B. B. Odom or Carey Bell As a whole, the event sounded too much like a musical reunion, as Strachwitz conformed to a fashion initiated by rock producers that consisted in throwing indiscriminately in the studio or on a stage the largest possible number of name artists. Such artificial gatherings yielded worthy results on some occasions, but most of them were disappointing, as was the case with EarPs second Arhoolie session. Sharing the spotlight with him was rock-blues organist Steve Miller, whose Prophets had sometimes shared the bill with Earl when he worked the clubs of Miller's Iowa hometown, Waterloo, earlier on in the sixties . By 1969 Miller had moved to California, when he ran into Earl Hooker, and Strachwitz thought fit to commemorate the event on vinyl, aiming at reaching a larger share of the youngwhite public in the process. The idea could have produced interesting results—for Miller actually wasa talented keyboard player—if the session, initially planned as an "Earl Hooker featuring Steve Miller" event, hadn't become an "Earl Hooker and Steve Miller" record. This was epitomized in "Hooker 'n' Steve," the jazz organ-guitar duet that eventually gave its title to the album. This track suited Miller's style well, but it could not appeal to the blues puristswho raved about the first Arhoolie set, especially as Earl acted the humble part of guest attraction. The two vocal tracks featuring Miller's affected singing carried this paradox even further, for if Hooker did provide the organist with an adequate slide accompaniment on the rather lifeless "Strung-Out Woman Blues," his playing was hardly audible on "New Riviera." EarPs trouble did not end with Steve Miller's vocal performance, for Strachwitz had a second singer in store. Although "I'm Your Main Man"—a variation on the traditional "Rock Me Baby" theme— boasted uninspired vocals from Gino Skaggs, they were redeemed by Hooker's moving accompaniment, which recalled at times the ominous atmosphere of the original "Blue Guitar." The instrumental side of the session was no exception to the "guest-star" policy that ruled this recording date, the first non-vocal effort of the day being a harmonica showcase that left little room for EarPs guitar; "The Hook," a brilNineteen Sixty-Nine 290 liant up-tempo number, features the harp acrobatics of Hooker's friend Louis Myers, who volunteered his assistance when he learned that Earl was going into the studio. Fortunately, the rest of the session was devoted to Hooker's playing and singing. "Earl's Blues,"despite the cumbersome presence of Miller's organ, was one of Earl's very personal bluesy numbers, in which he alternates conventional picking and talking-slide verses. "Guitar Rag" illustrated Hooker's penchant for country & western music, but most of all it was an occasion for him to display his formidable command of the slide. Yet what the song gained in complexity it lost in drive, and this version came short of the more forceful rendition Hooker had contributed at Sam Phillips's Memphis studio in 1953. As was the case with its Sun predecessor, this new cover is plagued by the fact that Earl's sidemen were unfamiliar with the song's chord structure. What could be overlooked in the case of an informal demo session was unforgivable here, and Strachwitz should have known he couldn't expect much from Hooker if his band wasn't properly rehearsed. Of Earl's two vocal attempts, the first was nothing new, since "Conversion Blues" was a retitled version of Harold TidwelPs "Swear to Tell the Truth" recorded in 1960 for Mel London and reçut for Cuca four years later. That left as the session's highlight "The Moon Is Rising," a Delta gem in the vein of "Anna Lee," also featuring harmonicist Louis Myers. Like "Anna Lee," "The Moon Is Rising" had been learned firsthand from Earl's mentor Robert Nighthawk, and it provided Hooker with an ideal support for his soulful slide contributions. Convincing vocals, haunting slide licks interspersed with subtle touches of reverb, driving bass lines, a strong backbeat, gentle piano figures from Miller—all contributed to the making of a masterpiece that probably outmatches Robert Nighthawk's 1953 creation. The session's shortcomings and qualities accounted for the contrasting reviews published when Arhoolie 1051 was released in 1970 shortly after Earl's death. When the newly launched Living Blues magazine from Chicago stated that "side one"—with Hooker's own two vocals and two guitar instrumentais— "is probably better than any side of any other LP," Mike Leadbitter voiced his bitter disappointment in Blues Unlimited: "Well, here's another super-group. Earl and Steve Miller combine forces to come up with yet another set ofsamey, uninspiring , just-about-blues."16 In a posthumous tribute, Guitar Player acknowledged the album's technical qualities, whereas a rather objective description 291 Nineteen Sixty'Nine appeared in Billboard's review section with the mention "A Billboard pick": "Hooker, one of the older more respected talents in the blues bag, comes on strong with a potpourri of blues tunes interspersed with jazz/rock undertones."17 Shortly after the conclusion of his Arhoolie date, Earl Hooker went back to Chicago, leaving Gino Skaggs in California, where he eventually became the bassist with John Lee Hooker's Coast to Coast Blues Band. For the rest of the summer, Earl played regular engagements around the Windy City in his favorite spots, including Theresa's Tavern and Pepper's. His following in Chicago, far from diminishing, seemed stronger than ever, and his return after his extended stay in the West was marked by his searing performance at Chicago's first Blues Festival, on a blazing hot afternoon in late August. "The blues capital of the world, Chicago, played host on Saturday, August 30, 1969 to the world's largest Blues Festival—a nine-hour extravaganza in Grant Park, where a youthful, exuberant but orderly crowd of about 10,000 whites and blacks together occupied the parkland in front of the Band Shell," Paul and Victoria Sheatsley reported in the October issue of Record Research. "The Festival was sponsored by the federal Reach Out program and the Chicago Park District, but the organizing genius behind the affair—the man responsible for assembling the dozens of artists and organizing the show—was the ubiquitous Willie Dixon, coordinating with co-producer EdWinfield Though the Festival wascalled 'Bringing the Blues Back to Chicago,' the blues of course have never left Chicago. Indeed, almost all of the artists participating in the Festival made their reputations in Chicago and are still based in Chicago."18 The event, emceed by prominent R&B DJs Big Bill Hill and E. Rodney Jones, started at 10A.M. with Willie Dixon's own Chicago BluesAll Stars. During the eight solid hours of blues music that preceded Muddy Waters's closing set, the cream of blues stylists—including Victoria Spivey, Koko Taylor, Otis Spann, Big Mama Thornton, Junior Wells, and B. B. Odom—kept the large outdoor crowd asking for more. It wasno easy task for Earl Hooker to focus the attention of the public when, next to last on the show, he walked on stage at half past five in the afternoon, but his playing and sensational stage dynamics soon won the audience over to his cause: "Earl Hooker then came on to electrify the crowd (and one wasafraid, himself) with his wildguitar playing which wound up with him playing the instrument with his teeth,"19 the Sheatsleys wrote. Nineteen Sixty-Nine 292 Hooker wasclearly at a turning point in his career, but the summerwas not free from major hassles. As several months of frantic activity were taking their toll, he was hospitalized for a short period of time in early August. Despite his general state of exhaustion, and although this clearly confirmed that his bout with tuberculosis had not ended with his long stay at 1919 West Taylor in 1967-68, Hooker refused to acknowledge it as a fact and would not even admit to his friend Dick Shurman that he had been under medical care when the latter came back to Chicago in early September after spending some time away from the city. Hooker and Shurman saw quite a bit of each other during the first half of September; since Shurman liked to spend time in the clubs where Hooker performed . Shurman was not merely an ardent listener, and his admiration for EarPs music urged him to capture it on tape. "When I knew Hooker," Shurman explains, "I didn't have a car and so when I'd go to a gig, he'd drive me to see him play. I still can't believe the nerve I had. People like Hooker and [Howlin'] Wolf, they would pick me up and drive me over to make some tapes of them. When I think back it seems so amazing. He never complained. He liked to listen to it later. He was the one guyof all the people that I recorded that sometimes would make me go some place and play the tape before he would go to bed and let me go; we would often drive to his place and listen to the tape." Such informal live recording sessions took place on various occasions from the spring of 1969, and the several hours' worth of tapes that have remained in Shurman's possession are a priceless testimony to Hooker's genius. Even though they were not recorded when Hooker wasat the peak of his form, they are the only possible way today of assessing the guitarist's true potential on stage. In this respect, the recordings Shurman has kept of the guitarist's performance on the night of September 12 perfectly illustrate the progress of a typical Earl Hooker show in a ghetto club. That Friday night, the crowd at Theresa's Tavern was a mixture of neighborhood patrons and South Side blues aficionados , with a sprinkling of musicians who had come by in the hope of sitting in. Earl's band waslimited to a trio, with Arthur "Dogman"Jackson on drums and Dave Myers on bass. The first set that night started with an up-tempo instrumental rooted in the R&B tradition, followed by a more fiinky guitar improvisation . With the end of the third number—a shuffle later titled "Swingin' at 293 Nineteen Sixty-Nine Theresa's"—Hooker swiftly moved into "Hide Away,"the Hound DogTaylor theme made famous by Freddy King. Halfway through the first set, Earl then called on the bandstand vocalist Muddy Waters Jr.,who kicked off with "Everything Gonna BeAlright," a Little Walter offering he had alreadyrecorded with Hooker for the Cuca label in 1966. MuddyWaters Jr., a mainstay at Theresa's, then jumped into the traditional "Rock Me Baby"theme before he ended his performance with a strong rendition of Willie Cobbs's "You Don't Love Me." Next on Hooker's list of sitting-in vocalists wasLittle B.B.Odom, who got into a bluesygroove with his own "I Got the Feelin'." Earl then brought this first set to a close with a guitar rendition of Bill Doggett's "Hold It" before the band took a break. The second part of Hooker's performance more or less patterned itself on the first set as the guitarist displayedhis proficiency and sense of stage dynamics with four extended instrumental showcases, including JamesBrown's "I Got You (I Feel Good)" and his own "Earl Hooker Blues." By the time Hooker brought an end to his instrumental features, the noisy crowd at Theresa's were ready for the blues, and it was time for Earl's protégé B. B. Odom to show the extent of his talent. Odom's "Don't Ever Leave Me" was aptly followed by a cover of Bobby Eland's 1957 Duke hit "Farther Up the Road" before the vocal' ist acknowledged his admiration for B. B. King, at first with "Sweet Sixteen," then with "Why I Sing the Blues," a Kingcomposition that had worked its way up the charts in the late spring. In the tavern that night was Jimmy Reed, one of the most popular blues artists to emerge from the Chicago scene of the fifties. Although Reed hadn't had a major record out in years, he was still a favorite with club audiences in 1969, accounting for the enthusiastic response he got everywhere he played. This wasno exception, and Reed's renditions of his old hits "YouDon't Have to Go" and "Honest I Do" were greeted warmly by a Fridaynight crowd elated by the subtle interaction between Reed's singing and Hooker's playing. Earl's spirited improvisations on Albert Collins's "Frosty" ended this second set appropriately , and the band wasable to go on intermission. When Hooker's trio came back for the night's final set, three vocalists were ready to join him on stage. The first one was Ernest "Elmore JamesJr." Johnson , a disciple of the famed slide master. The influence ofJames wasobvious on Johnson's repertoire that night, which included "The Sky IsCrying" and "IBeNineteen Sixty-Nine 294 Heve," two of Elmore's anthems that allowed Hooker to come up with superb slide licks. Also included in Johnson's bag of songs were Junior Wells's "Up in Heah," and Bobby McClure's "Peak of Love" as well as "Get Off My Back Woman," a B. B.Kingtune that could be heard on everyblack radio station at the time. ElmoreJr. was followed by Muddy Waters Jr., who came back for two standards, "Drivin' Wheel" and "YouDon't Have to Go," a strange choice in the light of the presence that night ofJimmy Reed, who was then called back on stage. With EarPs support, Reed put a fitting end to an eventful musical night as he crooned his way through "Baby What YouWant Me to Do" and "Big Boss Man." This description hardly does justice to Hooker, and only his music can truly document his versatility.Indeed, the tunes cited above might give the misleading impression that Hooker's shows were limited to lifeless renditions of stereotyped standards, but a mere listen to the Shurman tapes proves that each oneof these themes wasbut an excuse for the guitarist to make forays into unexplored musical realms. This can easilybe verified in the thirty minutes ofintensely brilliant music,captured byShurman that night at Theresa's aswellastwo days earlier at Pepper's Lounge, that sawthe light partly on a memorialalbumput outby Chris Strachwitz in 1973, and more recently on another Arhoolie release. These recordings have an exceptionally crisp and clear tone considering the fact that they were taped on a portable machine with four cheap microphones, but Hooker's live music doesn't need to be judged by technical standards, its very essence and artistic content making up for what the recordings lack in quality. Of the four instrumental tracks released by Arhoolie, the first isparticularly interesting because it gives a full idea of Earl's innovative genius. Hooker starts off with a regular statement of the "Dust My Broom" riff popularized by Elmore James that he then proceeds to analyze, dissect, permute, and transform into what seems like an endless run of improvisations. Never repeating himself as he uses alternatively his fingers or a straight pick, the wah-wah pedal, the steel slide, and the tone control ofhis instrument, Earlequals in imagination and creativity bebop greats like Clifford Brown, Charlie Parker, and Gene Ammons. Had he been drawn to the saxophone instead of the guitar, he no doubt would have become himself a legend in the jazz field. At any rate, the Shurman tapes confirm that Hooker only gave free rein to his talent in front of live audiences, making these rare recordings all the more precious. 295 Nineteen Sixty-Nine In the audience at Pepper's that Wednesday night wasproducer Ed Michel, who insisted on catching Earl in a club setting on the occasion of a short visit to the Windy City. Michel and Hooker were bound to see more of each other within the following days.Clearly impressed by the extent of Hooker's genius, Michel had set up another series of Bluesway recording dates involving Hooker in California for the second half of September. This was the only opening left in EarFs busy timetable, since a tour of Europe organized by Chris Strachwitz was going to keep Earl away from the United States during all of October. Ed Michel conceived his next three sessions quite differently from the previous ones. During the summer he signed up vocalists Charles Brown and Jimmy Witherspoon as well as the world-famous team of Sonny Terry & Brownie McGhee. Since Brown and Witherspoon usually worked with pick-up units, Michel's idea was to bring together in the studio the most talented musicians he could find in order to provide his new recruits with exceptional sidemen. Hooker, in spite of his reluctance to travel by plane, waslooking forward to going back to LosAngeles for more studio work. He wasparticularly excited at the prospect of recording with Charles Brown, especially as he was partly responsible for the latter's comeback. Brown, originally a high school teacher from Texas with a degree in chemistry, made a highly successful career as a pianist and singer on the West Coast in the early postwar years. The mid-fifties brought about considerable changes on the R&B scene, and Brown'sNat King Cole-influenced style progressivelygrew out of fashion. With the exception of a minor hit record for the Cincinnati-based King company in 1961, Charles Brown was absent from the charts after 1952. As he drifted into oblivion, Brown quit music in order to start a furniture business in Ohio in the sixties, and it wasnot until 1968 and his return to northern California that heresumed his former occupation as an entertainer on a regularbasis. At the time of his extended stay in the San Francisco Bayarea in the late spring, Hooker wasboth happy and surprisedto discover that his early idol performed nightly to indifferent neighborhood crowds in Oakland's black bars. His first reaction wasto get in touch with EdMichel, who flew in from Los Angeles at Earl's instance, and a recording session for Bluesway was planned on the spot for the fall. "He was very excited about recording with Charles Brown," explained Dick Shurman, who escorted Hooker to Chicago's O'Hare airport right before the sessions. "He liked recording once he got started. For Nineteen Sixty-Nine 296 one thing it waseasy money for him 'cause he wasthe kinda guythat could just go in and jam a whole album without any problem. When the album market caught up with him, he just recorded, bam! bam! bam! I think Hooker was the kinda guy that—'Why not?' that washis attitude. The one thing I remember talking about most was the session with Charles Brown, because almost every blues artist listens to Charles Brown and Johnny Moore and Oscar Moore.20 Their influence on people is becoming recognized." His second active recording spell for ABC-Bluesway started on a grim note for Hooker, who arrived in LosAngeles without a guitar; he had entrusted his instrument to a redcap at the Chicago airport but had never seen him again, and Michel had to find a replacement for the stolen guitar before the first session could start. When Hooker finally walked into the studio on Monday, September 15, he was carrying with him a fine Gibson Les Paul model. This first recording date featured singer Jimmy Witherspoon, but Charles Brown was there to highlight the event with his subtle piano playing. The rest of the band included Mel Brown, a mainstay on Bluesway sessions at the time who shared guitar chores with Hooker, and bassist Jimmy Bond, already present on B. B. Odom's Bluesway set. Art Hillery and Lavell Austin—respectively organist and drummer with the house band at the Parisian Room, a Los Angeles venue found at La Brea Avenue and Washington Boulevard—completed the outfit with their bandleader Red Holloway, a veteran tenor sax man whom Hooker knew from his days as a much sought-after session man in Chicago during the fifties. According to his usual pattern, Michel took this ephemeral unit to the Vault studios, where sound engineer Ed Fournier stood behind the soundboard while photographer Phil Melnick proceeded to take shots of the musicians for future promo material. The songs taped that day were longer than was customary with blues sessions . "Pillar to Post," for instance, amounts to a full twelve minutes and fortynine seconds—an inevitable outcome considering the loose, jam session-like atmosphere of the event and the number of leading talents who took turns to play lengthy solos. Hooker obviouslyfelt at ease in this setting, and he wasable to acknowledge more than ever before—with the exception ofhis performance behind B. B. Odom three months before—his debt to T-Bone Walker'sswinging style, sprinkling all the while wah-wah and slide touches in his playing. The same could not be said ofMel Brown, who came up with boring and point297 Nineteen Sixty-Nine less solos in an attempt to outplay Hooker. Fortunately, Brown's guitar re^ mained amazinglydiscreet on "You Can't Do a Thing When You're Drunk," by far the best number recorded that day, with its superb slide phrases and light shades of wah-wah, Charles Brown's sweet piano playing and Red Holloway's wailing sax. Unsparing of his artists, Ed Michel brought Hooker, Holloway, Bond, and Mel Brown back to Vault the next day. For this second date, which hailed Charles Brown's comeback on record, drummer Ed Thigpen, just back from a tour with the Oscar Peterson Trio, took the seat left vacant by Lavell Austin. Midway into the session, a promising jazz bassist named Arthur "Joony" Booth took over the seat ofJimmy Bond, who had another recording engagement. At Michel's instance, Charles Brown shared the spotlight on two tracks with a female club owner named Dottie Ivory, who spiced the proceedings with her soulful singing. The overall results were remarkable, although Brown later expressed the regret that more time wasnot spent on the careful production of this comeback session: "When Dottie Ivory and I went down to LosAngeles to make an album together, instead of taking time to get an arranger and really fixing it right—we jammed! Yet it was a good album but not what we could have done like others whohave had arrangements. It makes a difference. . . . Earl Hooker washere then, asa matter offact, he wanted to make a record with me."21 Even though he decided to cover his most popular records of the forties and early fifties, Brown went on to prove that his music could still hold its place in a modern context. In this respect, Hooker's support proved invaluable as the guitarist revitalized Brown's old hits: "New Merry Christmas Baby" with its soulful intro, and more especially "Drifting Blues" came off as new, thanks to Hooker's inspired slide work, although it certainly was no easy job for him to follow in the footsteps ofJohnny Moore, the original guitarist on Brown's 1945 success. Released shortly after Hooker's death under the title Hunk! (a reference to the hoarse grunt that chain gang workers uttered when using their hammers), Witherspoon's Bluesway album was greeted with varying comments. "Black blues at its high'power best played by people who know how,"22 wrote Mike Leadbitter in Blues Unlimited, showing more enthusiasm than Bruce Iglauer in Chicago's Living Blues: "Hooker and Brown just get in each other's way and Nineteen Sixty-Nine 298 make the whole thing too busy. . . . They can't play together."23 On the contrary , Charles Brown's Legend! set was unanimously acclaimed by critics, Leadbitter 's reaction being representative of the comments published at the time: "The Legend, Charles Brown, is featured and the results are superb. The same musicians are used as for the famous Witherspoon Hunhl session and there is really some fine musicbehind Charles' bunged-upnose vocals and tinkling music . Ifyou like Charles, you'll want this.... The throaty Dottie Ivoryhelps out with some vocals, but it is the long recreations like 'Black Night' and 'Drifting Blues' that make this a must for me."24 As record sales helped spread Earl's reputation after his death, his splendid contributions to Brown's LP in particular proved influential. So much spontaneity transpired from his work behind Brown that one may wonder whether Earl did not disregard his "dummy guitar" recording policy this time, to bequeath the world tangible evidence of his genius as the end was drawing near. At least one prominent Chicago guitarist didn't remain indifferent to this precious legacy, according to Dick Shurman: "In 1970 I wasvisiting Otis [Rush]. I took him down to a record store and we listened to a few albumsand one of the ones that I turned him on to was that Legend! album by Charles Brown. That album has had more influence on Otis than any other record since. A lot of times when he playsa slow blues, he'll play with his fingers that slide part that Hooker plays on 'Drifting Blues' on that album,he loves to play that. Otis very seldom expresses appreciation of anything to anybody, but he did one time when he wasin a sentimental mood. He really thanked me for turning him on to that album." Hooker's last recording date took place at Vault on Wednesday, September 24. Turning to account the week that separated this final session from the Charles Brown event, Earl visited L.A.'s musicstores and ended up purchasing a new guitar as a replacement for the one he had just lost. This time, the band featured behind Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee included Ed Michel's favorite stand-up bassist Jimmy Bond, veteran jazz drummer David "Panama" Francis, as well as a fine keyboard player named Ray Johnson, brother of New Orleans stylist Pías Johnson—the sax player on the original "Pink Panther Theme." Following the current rock-age trend of rejuvenating the music of older icons, Michel deliberately chose to present the guitar-harmonica duet in an urban blues context. Judgingfromthe resulting album, this wasa question299 Nineteen Sixty-Nine able initiative. Not that anything waswrongwith Terry'scountry-flavored harp playing and raw singing, McGhee's East Coast blues guitar patterns, RayJohnson 's spirited piano licks, or Hooker's adroit slide lines, but the mixingof these various ingredients sounds pointless because the musicians fail to adjust themselves to the situation, Michel himself wasnot satisfied with the outcome; he refused to release it with the Witherspoon and Brownsets, and it wasnot until four yearslater that ABC finally put it out under the title I Couldn't Betieve My Eyes. No doubt this failure wouldhave passed unnoticed by Earl Hooker fans if it hadn't been the guitarist's final studio appearance. Nineteen Sixty-Nine 300 ...