Archive for March, 2006
Willie Kent - Dead at 70

Arguably the greatest electric bass blues player ever to have lived, Willie Kent, lost his battle with cancer on March 2, 2006. He is survived by his wife of 49 years, Ruth; by nine children, numerous grandchildren and great-grandchildren; and by a brother, Walter, of New York.

This site is beginning to look like a memorial site.  I have written about the deaths of six blues legends over the past seven months.

Somehow, his passing slipped under my news radar.  My thanks to my friend, Mike Duffy, for sending me word of his passing.  I paid my musical respect to Willie Kent a few minutes ago.   The blues world at large, and the Chicago blues world in particular has suffered a huge loss with Willie Kent’s death.

To get a better idea of who he was and what a great bluesman he was, read this from Willie Kent’s homepage

When he sang, Willie Kent’s voice blazed out from the heart of the blues. Below the singing, you heard his bass guitar, flawless and rich. Between these two runs the music, a deep, honest blues that flowed from rural Mississippi to urban Chicago and remembers everything it learned along the way.

Willie Kent was born in 1936 in the small town of Inverness, Mississippi, just a hundred miles south of the border with Tennessee, and his memories had the blues running all through them. He recalled the sweet sounds made by Dewitt Munson, a neighbor wending homeward late nights with a guitar in his hand and a bottle in his pocket. Music came into the house through radio station KFFA’s famous “King Biscuit Time”, and young Willie basked in the sounds of Arthur Crudup, Sonny Boy Williamson, and especially Robert Nighthawk. By the time he was eleven, he was regularly slipping out to the Harlem Inn on Highway 61 to hear it all live: Raymond Hill, Jackie Brenston, Howlin’ Wolf, Clayton Love, Ike Turner, Little Milton.

He left home at the age of thirteen. In 1952 he arrived in Chicago, where he soon was working all day and listening to music all night. One of his co-workers was cousin to Elmore James - and Willie Kent (still underage) took to following that famous bluesman from club to club, absorbing his music. Each weekend he’d go out looking for blues, and he found it: Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, J.B. Lenoir, Johnnie Jones, Eddie “Playboy” Taylor, A.C. Reed, J.B. Hutto, and Earring George Mayweather.

His love for the music led him further and further into it. He bought himself a guitar, and in 1959 through guitarist friend Willie Hudson, linked up with the band Ralph and the Red Tops, acting as driver and manager and sometimes joining them onstage to sing. He made a deal with Hudson, letting him use the new guitar in trade for lessons on how to play it. One night’s show was decisive: the band’s bass player arrived too drunk to play, and because the band had already spent the club’s deposit, they couldn’t back out of the gig; so Willie Kent made his debut as a bass player, on the spot. He never looked back.

From that point on, his credits as a musician read like a “Who’s Who” of Chicago blues. After the Red Tops, he played bass with several bands around the city and stopped in often for Kansas City Red’s reknowned “Blue Monday” parties. He was increasingly serious about his music and formed a group with guitarists Joe Harper and Joe Spells and singer Little Wolf. By 1961, he was playing bass behind Little Walter, and by the mid-60’s was sitting in with Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, and Junior Parker. Toward the end of the 60’s, he joined Arthur Stallworth and the Chicago Playboys as their bass player, worked briefly with Hip Linkchain, then played bass behind Jimmy Dawkins.

He joined Jimmy Dawkins on his 1971 European tour, but when they returned to the States, their paths diverged: Dawkins wanted to keep touring and turned over his regular gig at Ma Bea’s Lounge to Willie Kent, who wanted to stay in Chicago. For the next six years, the Ma Bea’s house band was known as Sugar Bear and the Beehives, headed by Willie Kent (the Sugar Bear himself) with guitarist Willie James Lyons and drummer Robert Plunkett. In that setting, he set the tone of the club and backed up a stellar guest list including Fenton Robinson, Hubert Sumlin, Eddie Clearwater, Jimmy Johnson, Carey Bell, Buster Benton, Johnny Littlejohn, Casey Jones, Bob Fender, Mighty Joe Young, B.B. Jones, and Jerry Wells. (For a taste of the music, check out the superb 1975 recording Ghetto – Willie Kent and Willie James Lyons live at Ma Bea’s.)

Willie Kent had played occasionally with Eddie Taylor’s blues band during the late 70’s, and in 1982 became a regular member of the band, which then included Eddie Taylor on guitar, Willie Kent on bass, Johnny B. Moore on guitar, and Larry and Tim Taylor on drums. His relationship with Eddie Taylor was both a solid friendship and a warm musical partnership (evidenced in Eddie Taylor’s fine recording Bad Boy on Wolf Records).

After the death of Eddie Taylor, Willie Kent formed a new band, Willie Kent and the Gents, with Kent on bass and vocals, Tim Taylor on drums, and Jesse Williams and Johnny B. Moore on guitar. And the Gents have endured. Over the years, the composition of the group has shifted as musicians joined or moved on, but the music has remained as clear, powerful and steady as the bass line that holds it true: a pure Chicago West Side blues.

Willie Kent and the Gents are now well-known and respected in the blues world, but getting there wasn’t easy. In 1989, a series of heart problems led to life-changing triple bypass surgery. As he healed, Willie Kent spent time reflecting on blues music, his career, and the future. He gave up his day job and turned his full attention to music.

His discography bears witness: before 1989, there were just two recordings to his credit; in the years since, he’s had ten releases in his own name, has recorded behind many other blues artists, and has appeared in countless blues compilations.

His work is gradually getting the attention it deserves:

W.C. Handy Awards: Best Blues Instrumentalist, Bass
          (ten times: 1995, 1997, 1998, 1999, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, and 2005)

Critics’ Choice: Most Outstanding Blues Musician, Bass
          from Living Blues magazine (1995, 1996, 1997, 1998, 1999, 2001)

Readers’ Choice: Album of the Year 2001
          from Soul Bag magazine, France, for Comin’ Alive (Blue Chicago BC-5006)

Critics’ Choice: Album of the Year 2001
          from Soul Bag magazine, France, for Comin’ Alive (Blue Chicago BC-5006)

France Blues Award: Best Blues Musician, Bass
          for the years 2002, 2003

Chicago’s Album of the Year 1998
          for Make Room for the Blues (Delmark DE-723)

Library of Congress’ Best Blues Recording of the Year 1991
          for Ain’t It Nice (Delmark DD-653)

And what is it, this music of Willie Kent?

It’s a sound emerging from the deep blues tradition, a hypnotic body-tempo rhythm drawing you into the music’s core. It’s that most human of all poetry, the Mississippi Delta 12-bar blues. It’s the balanced, clean sound of Chicago’s West Side, where each separate musician creates the ensemble, and where simple musical lines burst into labyrinths of controlled passion. It’s a shout, a melody, a ringing, honest voice crying out love and pain.

You can dance to it, or just let it wash over you — but if you listen, you’ll be moved. This music touches you where it hurts, then heals you.

In short, it is the blues.

St. Patrick’s Weekend at O’Brien’s Pub in Pusan, Korea

A few pictures of me playing as part of the St. Patrick’s Day weekend events at O’Brien’s Irish Pub here in Pusan, South Korea.

Ali Farka Toure - Dead at 66…or 67

“It is forbidden in a noble family to be an artist. It is simply not allowed….I wasn’t allowed to play or be an artist… but God gives ambitions to all of us. And we know that we’ve got a right to these ambitions.” - Ali Farka Toure

“My music is about where I come from and our way of life. In the West, perhaps this music is just entertainment and I don’t expect people to understand. But I hope some might take the time to listen and learn.” - Ali Farka Toure

Ali Farka Toure, a musical master from Mali passed away earlier this week. Although few people outside of Mali will know it or appreciate it, the world has lost a huge chunk of its musical soul with the passing of Ali Farka Toure. I first became aware of Ali Farka Toure while watching Martin Scorsese’s “Feel Like Going Home” section of “The Blues” series. Here is an excerpt:

Click here to watch the video.  (pause the video untill it is completely loaded for smooth playback)

For more on Ali Farka Toure and the history of the blues from Mali, click here to see and listen to the NPR story.  

Ali Farka Toure, 67; Malian Guitarist Was Hailed in U.S. as the ‘Desert Bluesman’
By Jocelyn Y. Stewart, Times Staff Writer
March 8, 2006

Before the blues arrived in the Mississippi Delta, it lived in the desert of Mali, West Africa, and was known by a different name.

The sound of Ali Farka Toure was like the DNA that proved the paternity of the music, a link between the people and places that claimed it as their own.

“I’ve stayed in the tradition, and they’ve evolved in exile,” he said of African American bluesmen who observers wrongly assumed had influenced his playing. “It’s very important that these musicians go back to Africa to see where the music comes from, because in that way they’ll find the origins, the roots of their music.”

Toure, the two time-Grammy Award winner, the musician dubbed “the desert bluesman” and hailed by many as Africa’s finest guitarist, died in his sleep Tuesday of bone cancer at his home in Mali. Though Toure did not know the exact date of his birth, he believed his age to be 67.

“It’s impossible to calculate the importance of John Lee Hooker, Muddy Waters and now Ali Farka Toure,” Bonnie Raitt, who played with Toure, told The Times on Tuesday. “He’s a giant.”

News of his death came as friend and executive producer Nick Gold was set to travel to Mali to deliver a Grammy Award that Toure and fellow musician Toumani Diabate won last month for “In the Heart of the Moon,” said Dave McGuire, spokesman for World Circuit Records, Toure’s London-based label.

The death of Mali’s beloved son ? a farmer turned musician and cultural ambassador, who was later appointed mayor of his village ? was the cause for mourning: Radio and television stations played his music.

The Malian president was expected to participate in a tribute to Toure at the musician’s house, McGuire said. Toure is survived by a wife and many children.

Guitarist Ry Cooder, who collaborated with Toure on a Grammy-Award winning CD “Talking Timbuktu,” said Toure carried a sense of connection with the past, one that guided rather than limited his music.

He played an instrument known as a djerkel, a one-string guitar, and played traditional music on an electric guitar.

He was “highly conscious of the presence of the ancestors,” Cooder said. “I asked him one time … ‘Especially when you’re playing music, where are they?’ He said, ‘They’re just behind me and above my head.’ I said, ‘How many?’ He said, ‘A thousand years of ancestors.’ “

Ali Ibrahim Toure was born in 1939, in the village of Kanau in northwest Mali, the 10th son of his mother but the first to survive infancy. For his strength and tenacity, for surviving, the family nicknamed him “Farka,” which means donkey.

If Toure had abided strictly by tradition and culture, he might have never touched an instrument. Born into a noble family, he was expected to become a farmer or an artisan. As a boy he farmed and was an apprentice to a tailor, but music was his calling; the spirit ceremonies in villages along the banks of the Niger River, the sound of the instruments, mesmerized him.

When he was 12, he made a djerkel and taught himself to play. It was the spirits, he later said, who gave him the gift of his talent. Years later, a performance by Guinean guitarist Keita Fodeba changed his life: “That’s when I swore I would become a guitarist. I didn’t know his guitar, but I liked it a lot. I felt I had as much music as him and that I could translate it.”

Under a government program to promote national culture, Toure worked with an art troupe, composing, playing guitar and singing. He earned a reputation as a traditional musician in the 1960s, playing the flute and n’goni, a traditional instrument, on Radio Mali, and later guitar. Eventually he sent his recordings to the Son Afric record company in Paris.

By the late 1980s, Toure was playing for European and U.S. audiences ? and though his repertoire included much more than the music that earned him the moniker “desert bluesman,” it was that sound that startled listeners and drew comparisons to the likes of John Lee Hooker.

“He was the first guy to really give us sort of the African take on the blues and give us a glimpse of where the blues comes from,” said Tom Schnabel, producer of Cafe L.A. on KCRW-FM (89.9) and program director for World Music for the L.A. Philharmonic.

Though a fan of blues and soul music, he was not, he said, influenced by the music; he did, however, recognize the sound as belonging to Mali.

“I just was knocked over by the obvious roots of the blues,” Raitt said.

The sound that usually is associated with sadness, longing and grief, in Toure’s hands is “very soul-connecting. It’s erotic and spiritual at the same time,” Raitt said.

For Toure, the substance of the music was “more important than the formation of the song, the melody or the rhythm.”

“My music is an education, a history, a legend, an autobiography. It tells a valuable story of something true,” he told The Times in 1993.

His 1994 collaboration with Cooder, “Talking Timbuktu,” helped expand the U.S. public’s awareness of Toure’s music, Raitt said. It earned a Grammy Award.

The unique sound was a result of his willingness to take traditional music and push it forward, layering his own personality.

With his success, Toure could have left Mali and lived well in Paris, said Nnamdi Moweta, host of Radio Afrodicia on KPFK-FM (90.7).

Instead, his fame helped him help others. He took care of many people in his village and was deeply proud of and concerned about his nation.

“People looked at him like a peacemaker,” during a 1999 conflict in Mali, Moweta said. “He was singing in all the people’s languages: Songhai, Fulani and Tamashek. He used the music as a weapon to bring peace. People listened, and at that time that was what was needed, for people to listen.”