Showing posts with label Music The 500. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Music The 500. Show all posts

Monday, 26 August 2024

The 500 - #198 - The Best Of Little Walter - Little Walter

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 


Album: #198

Album Title: The Best of Little Walter

Artist: Little Walter

Genre: Blues

Recorded: May, 1952 - January, 1955

Released: 1958

My age at release: Not born

How familiar was I with it before this week: Not at all

Is it on the 2020 list? No

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Juke

Although I’ve improved, I am prone to shooting myself in the foot. Sometimes, I recognize I am doing it in real time. I’ll feel myself making an ill-advised decision and ignore every impulse to change course. It’s as if both my ego and superego are standing at a fork in the road frantically waving their arms and screaming for me to veer left. All the while, my Freudian Id is white-knuckling the steering wheel, banking hard to the right onto the precipice of social calamity.
I’m not alone. Psychologists recognize that, particularly when under stress, humans tend to retreat to habits of emotional regulation that were formed when they were young. Our Id takes over and our emotions and behavioural choices figuratively become driven by a toddler. We act impulsively, eschew judgment or foresight and declare, “No! My Way!"
University of Maryland professor Dr. Steven Stossy says:
“The Toddler brain is dominated by feelings rather than analysis of facts. (If the feelings are negative, they seem like alarms.) Not surprisingly, habits formed in the Toddler brain are activated by feelings rather than analysis of the conditional context of past mistakes and their consequences. When we feel that way again, for any reason, past behavioral impulses grow stronger, increasing the likelihood of repeating the mistake.”
Such was the fate of American Blues musician Little Walter whose short life was punctuated by alcoholism and avoidable violence due to his legendary temper.
Marion Walter Jacobs was born in Marksville, Louisiana, sometime between 1923 and 1930. There are no birth records and Jacobs often changed his date of birth when completing government documents. This was likely so that he could sign performance contracts when he wasn’t at the age of majority. He quit school early, likely at 12, so he could travel to several cities, including New Orleans, Memphis and St. Louis. There, he worked odd jobs and busked on the streets with his harmonica and guitar. During that time, he came under the tutelage of legendary blues performers such as Sonny Boy Williamson and Honeyboy Edwards. Diminutive in stature, but large in personality, he began using the pseudonym Little Walter. Some of his contemporaries sometimes added a four letter expletive in the middle of his name because of his fiery temper. Behind his back, he became “The Little (****) Walter”.
Like many musicians from the southern states, Jacobs eventually made his way to “The Windy City” of Chicago. Nestled on the southwestern shore of Lake Michigan, the major metropolis had become the hub for the blues. There are a few factors that contributed to this:
  • A mass migration of African Americans began with the end of the Civil War and continued through the early 1900s. The population shift was due to the implementation of “Jim Crow Laws” in the southern states, which codified racial segregation and made upward wealth mobility nearly impossible for black citizens.
  • The newly completed trans-continental railway system allowed for reasonably priced passage to the north …and Chicago was the end of the line.
  • The tradition of African American folk music and acoustic southern blues, or country blues, travelled north with the migrants. Chicago had been powered by electricity since 1888 and recording studios and nightclubs were abundant.
  • Additionally, the electric guitar was introduced in the late 1930s and blues musicians in Chicago adopted amplification. The sound changed, eventually leading to Rock and Roll.
Jacobs immediately found success in Chicago, working solo or playing harmonica with Muddy Waters’ band (three records on The 500 at #348, #242 and #38). He also worked as a studio musician with the Chess, and later Checker, record companies, supporting other artists with his groundbreaking harmonica (or mouth harp) skills. The first appearance of Jacob’s electrified harp was on July 11, 1951, when he supported Muddy Waters on his soon-to-be hit single, Country Boy. Soon after, Jacobs began to revolutionize the harmonica’s amplified sound by driving his amplification to the point of distortion. The adjustment became his signature style – an aggressive, but bewitching growl that energized blues music solos.
In 1952, Jacobs recorded the song Juke, which is still the only harmonica instrumental to secure the #1 position on the Billboard R&B Charts. He also reached the top ten 14 times, including with the songs Off The Wall, Sad Hours and My Babe – all of which appear on this Best Of Little Walter Anthology (at #198 on The 500). He was frequently invited to play harmonica with the stable of Chess record talent. They included legendary entertainers Memphis Millie, Jimmy Rogers, Otis Rush, and even singer turned children’s poet, Shel Silverstein (The Giving Tree, Where The Sidewalk Ends) on his humorously titled 1966 record, I’m So Good I Don’t Have To Brag.
Despite his fame and success, Little Walter and his legendary temper cost him dearly. He was a heavy drinker and prone to fits of rage, often culminating in violent encounters. A few months after returning from his second successful European tour he was involved in a fight while taking a break between sets at a club in Chicago’s south side. He seemed to have only suffered minor injuries, but they exacerbated existing damage his body had withstood from years of violence and alcoholism. He died in his sleep that night, February 15, 1968. The official coroner’s report listed his death as a coronary thrombosis (blood clot in the heart) – he was approximately 40 years of age.
Little Walter statue in Germany.
Little Walter and his revolutionary approach to the harmonica had a powerful influence on blues and rock and roll for generations. His approach to the instrument has led to comparisons with the likes of seminal musicians Django Reinhardt, Charlie Parker and Jimi Hendrix. Guitarist Eric Clapton (who appears on seven records on The 500) considered Jacobs “a powerful influence” on his style, and Rolling Stone guitarist Keith Richards (10 records) called Jacobs “one of the best singers of the Blues and a Blues harp player par excellence.”
Keith Richards and Eric Clapton performing in 2013
Jacobs was posthumously inducted into The Blues Hall of Fame (1991), The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (1995) and the Grammy Hall of Fame for his song Juke (2008). His innovation and legacy live on through The Little Walter Foundation in Chicago, established by his daughter in 2021. Such were the tributes accorded to a legendary performer whose career trajectory was tragically cut short – a victim of his own tempestuous fury.




Monday, 5 June 2023

The 500 - #262 - Self-Titled Debut - Crosby, Stills & Nash

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 



Album: #262
Album Title: Self-Titled Debut
Artist: Crosby, Stills & Nash
Genre: Folk Rock, 
Recorded: Wally Heider Studios, Hollywood, California, U.S.A.
Released: May, 1969
My age at release: 3
How familiar was I with it before this week: Very
Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #161, moving up 101 spots since 2012
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Suite: Judy Blue Eyes
Sometimes, late at night when my "old man bladder" rouses me from slumber, my thoughts drift toward the negative and I am filled with overwhelming feelings of hopelessness, failure and existential dread.
Sometimes, horrifyingly, this is coupled with sleep paralysis -- I am "conscious" but unable to move, with an intense pressure on my chest that restricts my breathing and holds me in place. As my students would say ... "Pure Nightmare Fuel".
There is no logical reason for any feelings of dread. I live a wonderful life with a beautiful wife, good health, a purposeful job I love and enough money to be comfortable.
I'm not alone, researchers say about 11% of the North American population suffer nocturnal anxiety, parasomnia and disruptive sleep disorders. Consequently, I sought help from professionals. My family doctor prescribed a low dose of mirtazapine, a mild, anti-anxiety medication with sleep promoting benefits. He also directed me to a cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT) clinician.
Unlike psychoanalysis or interpersonal therapy, CBT is a time-limited, problem-focused and goal-oriented form of psychological treatment. I attended only three sessions and the strategies I learned made a world of difference. I get to sleep more easily. More importantly, I stay in the deeply resting phase of "low wave sleep" (N3) more often and, if I wake prematurely, I am able to drift off again with fewer incidents of dread creeping into my psyche. More importantly, sleep paralysis is now an annual event, rather than a monthly one.
I'm a realist, I suspect the mirtazapine is doing the heavy lifting with my treatment. However, the CBT strategies are not without merit. These are particularly effective when those clouds of dread permeate my psyche, on any occasion. Often, it is the specter of mistakes, indiscretions and the reckless misjudgments from my past that persist and haunt me most. Bad decisions I made, sometimes many years earlier. Their gloomy voices echoing through my mind, reamplifying embarrassment and shame:
  • Why did you do that?
  • Why would you say that?
  • Why weren't you smarter? more patient? kinder? more respectful? less-judgmental?
During these times, it is a single lyric from the opening track, on the debut record from Crosby, Stills & Nash that has served as a mantra while I allow those thoughts, like a cloud in the sky, to pass over my mental horizon -- granted, with a small pronoun variation.
"Don't let the past remind you of what you are not now."
The lyric is from the song Suite: Judy Blue Eyes, penned by Stephen Stills, one-third of the aforementioned Crosby (David), Stills, and Nash (Graham). It appears on their self-titled record from 1969, an album that was introduced to me in high-school by my friend Don Robertson. It, along with the group's second record, Deja Vu (#220 on The 500), played frequently when the two of us lived together in a London, Ontario townhouse in 1993.
My 1993 roommates - Don (left) and Steve Mackison.
Stills wrote the song about his then girlfriend, singer, song-writer, and actor Judy Collins. The title is a play on words "Sweet Judy Blue Eyes" but is composed in four sections or movements, imitating a classical music suite - hence the double entendre.
Stills and Collins (1968).
The lyrics reflect on Stills' thoughts about Collins as he prepared himself for the couple's imminent break-up. Stills and Collins, who met in 1967, had dated for two years. In the summer of 1969, Collins was appearing in the New York Shakespeare Festival in a musical production of Ibsen's Peer Gynt and had fallen in love with her co-star, Stacey Keach.
Collins and Keach in costume for a promotional
photograph from Peer Gynt.
Stills has, in subsequent interviews, made it clear that he knew their break-up was "imminent", saying, "we were just a little too big for one house". However, the lyrics, particularly in verse 9, petition Collins to save the relationship.
"Change my life, make it right
Be my lady."
Prior to the release of the record, he brought his guitar to Collins' hotel room to play the song for her. In a 2007 interview, Collins recounted the event, saying,
"I told him, 'Oh, Stephen, it’s such a beautiful song. But it’s not winning me back.'  I’ve always understood that people have to write about their lives. Most of all, I felt the song was flattering and heartbreaking – for both of us. Neither one of us walked away from that relationship relieved."
And, of course, there is that lyric that has stuck with me for decades and eventually became a consequential mantra

"Don't let the past remind us of what we are right now".

In context of his song, Stills is attempting to ease the pain of separation. He may be addressing Collins (or, perhaps, himself) about letting go of the great love they once had in order to accept the new reality of a life without each other.
Cover for the single release of Suite: Judy Blue Eyes.
Unlike Stills, I am not lamenting an unrequited love, but that short lyric is also a way of moving me forward. Psychologically, I am letting go of the worst version of the man, and sometimes the boy, I used to be. It is a way of forgiving myself the regrets of my past, in order to embrace the person I am now. A better man...who needs a good night's sleep, free of anxiety and dread.