Partially Settled Vagabonds

King of the Delta Blues...

In an effort to give Young Vagabonds a bit more structure in light of the harsh reality of the absence of a sports season I follow, I am going to begin posting a synopsis of the lives of characters I find intriguing. Where to begin? Well, with one of my three loves; sports, music, or theology. Today, I will go with the music.

Recently I took a quiz (which I will post next Quiz Wednesday) that was supposed to tell you where your ideal place to live is based on the answers you provide to certain questions. As it turns out, my ideal places were all in Arkansas or Louisana, with the notable exceptions of El Paso and Sacramento. Having never lived in these places, I couldn't figure out the reasoning behind the quiz, until I decided it must have something to do with the music. In Arkansas, one is subjected to pure country, or the dribblings of bluegrass music, rolling off of the hills in Kentucky and Tennessee. I love bluegrass music, which is serendipitous, given the fact that it is highly influenced by Scottish culture. In Louisana, one is audience to some of the greatest rebellion in musical form ever carved in wax--blues music. It is the genre in which generations of black people wailed against the structures of injustice that prevailed against them, and honed a craft that is rarely repeated. Any blues musician worth his salt (I'm currently listening to John Lee Hooker as I write this) will acknowledge that Robert Johnson is a significant influence on his or her life.

Robert Johnson was born sometime in the early 1900s (1909? 1912? 1911?), although there is no official record of his birth. He is probably the greatest blues guitarist who ever lived, although he only recorded 29 songs from 1936-1937, in Dallas and San Antonio. When he came on the scene, he was a mediocre guitarist, with comparable talent to his musical counterparts. However, he disappeared for a very brief while and when he came back, he was the finest guitarist around. The legend is that he sold his soul to the devil at the crossroads of Highways 69 and 51 in Clarksdale, Mississippi, in exchange for the ability to play the guitar. In his live shows after his crossroads experience, he would turn his back on the audience so that no one could steal the secrets of his finger placement on the frets of his guitar. Some of his songs include Hellhound on My Trail, Crossroads, and Me and the Devil Blues. One character who sells his soul to the devil in order to play the guitar in O Brother, Where Art Thou? is based on Robert Johnson. The reason he was only able to record 29 songs is because someone poisoned his moonshine with strychnine while he was playing a club one night. He actually recovered from the poisoning, but died only a few short days later, after contracting pnuemonia due to complications stemming from the poisoning. The rumor is that he went out on his hands and knees, howling like a hound, only (about) 27 years old.

posted by John and Mag @ 4:39 PM