Skip James was a guy with the blues. And he knew how to sing about it.
A few weeks ago I posted my latest recording to my YouTube channel. It’s a live recording of my song “Isolation Blues”. The song is inspired by the old country blues style, specifically, an attempt at the Delta blues music that was made in the 1920s and 1930s. It was made by guys like Skip James who never got the credit they deserve.
I’m not pretending to be Skip James’ equal
One could be forgiven for asking, “What business does a middle class white dude from the heart of Wisconsin have singing Delta blues?” It’s probably a fair question.
Well, my opinion that musical inspiration can–and should be allowed to–strike anyone no matter what their race or situation may not matter. But it’s the way I feel.
No, I haven’t lived the blues the way those dirt-poor black musicians did back in the deep south in unimaginably hard times. But I, like everyone, have lived my own version of the blues, and I try to conjure those memories and feelings when I write and sing my original acoustic blues tunes.
Wisconsin played an important role in blues history
Besides all that, you might not realize it, but Wisconsin played an extremely important role in the history of the blues.
Back in the early years of the previous century, recordings where just beginning to become popular. While you can carry your “record player” around in your hip pocket these days, back then the phonograph was about the size of your college dorm refrigerator…only bigger.
These things were not just record players, they were furniture. And so, it’s no surprise that phonograph cabinets used to be sold in furniture stores. And, to encourage the sales of these pieces of furniture, some of these stores started their own record labels. Sounds crazy, but it’s true.
Such a company existed in Port Washington, Wisconsin (just north of Milwaukee). The Wisconsin Chair Company wanted to sell more of the phonograph cabinets it produced, so they started a record label called Paramount Records.
Skip James headed north to record the blues
Paramount Records, based in nearby Grafton, Wisconsin, recorded and released jazz and blues records. As it turns out, the label recorded some of the most important blues records of the era.
In 1931, Skip James, a dirt-poor musician from the deep Mississippi Delta won a talent contest and as the prize, won a trip to Wisconsin to record for Paramount Records.
Most people have never heard of Skip James. Paramount’s records where not exactly of the highest quality, and James’ recordings never won commercial success.
But thankfully those recordings did survive. James recorded 13 songs on guitar and five on piano. He was perhaps the only blues man of the era to be a two-instrument musician.
Skip James did not sing of daisies and lollypops
It’s easy to see why James’ recordings did not achieve commercial success. His style was haunting and brutal. His songs were the blues deep down into the soul, and there was no sugar coating. They were rough and mean. But man, where they great.
The song “Hard Time Killing Floor Blues” is my favorite. They don’t come any more haunting than that. That’s blues deep in the gut.
Lord, these hard times gon’ kill you, just drag on slow
James had a hard, hard life. He never did achieve any measure of commercial success in his life. Reportedly he received $40 for those Paramount recordings, and quit the music business for years out of disgust.
By the time he was rediscovered (and finally physically located) in the ’60s, he was in poor health, and it turned out that all those years later, his music was still too brutal for the blues revival fans of the time. His comeback was scarcely more successful than his original run.
Brutal inspiration
But listen to his music. It’s amazing. Haunting and poignant. He’s an inspiration to me. I have to be glad that I have not experienced the pain that inspired these songs in him. I almost feel guilty for enjoying his music as much as I do.
And I don’t pretend that my version of those old Delta Blues matches up, but consider my attempt to be a tribute. A tribute to Skip James and all the other men and women who sang the blues with such conviction long before I was born.
Where that ol’ floor so hard and cold
James was a gift. If you haven’t discovered him, give a listen. This ol’ Wisconsin corn eater will continue to try and draw inspiration from the music of James and his contemporaries. I’ll never match what they did, but damn it, I’ll have fun trying!