The following is an expanded and updated version of a post I made a little over a year ago on another site:

The 16th anniversary of the death of blues guitarist Stevie Ray Vaughan was last Sunday, 27 August 2006. Recently, his life and music have been on my mind.

There has been so much written about Stevie Ray Vaughan in print and on the net. Typing his name into Google returns 190,000 hits. I could say nothing about him that has hasn’t been said before by other, more knowledgeable, people. Because of that, I wish to share my thoughts and impressions about him and his music.

Youtube has a very good amature documentary of Stevie Ray’s life:

I knew of Jimmie Vaughan, the leader of The Fabulous Thunderbirds band. I don’t know when I first heard the name Stevie Ray Vaughan, Jimmie’s younger brother. I do, however, remember when i first became fully aware of Stevie Ray. It was August 27, 1990, just two months after returning from my first time living in Korea. Unfortunately, that was the day of Stevie Ray’s death.

I clearly remember all of my guitar-playing friends being quite surprised, shocked and amazed that he had died in a helicopter accident. I remember seeing pictures of the wreckage and news stories on TV. To me, it was only a passing news story about a musician I was not acquainted with.

I had missed the SRV heyday. Although SRV began to make a national and international name for himself with his big break in 1982, I didn’t get turned onto the blues until 1986, the year that SRV went into rehab for a drug and alcohol addiction. Even then, my interest in the blues was limited to the early acoustic blues of the 30s, 40s, and 50s. Although I had seen SRV tapes and discs available, I didn’t listen to them because I wasn’t interested in modern electric blues. Then, I was isolated from the blues from July 1988 through June 1990. Two months later SRV was gone.

Due to other extended stays in Korea, law school, and other things in my life, I didn’t get interested in or caught up in Stevie Ray’s music until much later.

During my second stay in Korea from 1991 and 1992, I had discovered Johnny Winter. As with SRV, I had seen his music, but never took the opportunity to listen to it. Johnny Winter’s screaming electric blues sucked me in. The feeling of the Texas Blues, the lightning fast licks, and the powerful slide of Johnny Winter were incredibly intense. I was instantly hooked.

Later, when I finally got around to hearing Stevie Ray Vaughan, I felt a lot of the same feelings and had a lot of the same impressions that I had listening to Johnny Winter. I was amazed by the same Texas Blues feeling, the speed, the intensity, the prowess, the intimate knowledge of the fretboard, and the musical flair of Stevie Ray.

I was also interested to note the many similarities between Johnny Winter and Stevie Ray Vaughan such as both being hard and fast electric blues-playing white boys from Texas with musically successful brothers. They even shared the same bass player, legendary bassist Tommy Shannon. Shannon, who knew SRV since SRV was 14 years old and played with him for several years until SRV’s death, had also played bass for Johnny Winter in the late 60s.

It was then that I started to backtrack through Stevie Ray Vaughan’s musical career and background to find out who and what he was. One of the first things I discovered was that he had provided the lead guitar tracks for David Bowie’s album “Let’s Dance”, including the hit songs, “Let’s Dance” and “China Girl”.

Simply listening to his music, you can hear that SRV is a great guitarist. I was thoroughly impressed by his talent. However, to only hear SRV and Double Trouble play is to miss out on an important aspect of the musical experience, and that is the visual element.

It is not uncommon to hear people say that concerts are a waste of money because you can spend half as much on the CD and sit home and hear the same songs in a quieter, more listener-friendly environment and the CD performance is better than live anyway. While this may be the case in a few instances, it is generally not true. Listening to audio only can be a satisfying and fulfilling experience, but attending a live concert where you get the sights, sounds, smells, psychology, and vibe of the audience and can see the intensity, effort, and body language of the musicians can be a transcendent experience.

It wasn’t until I obtained the DVD “Stevie Ray Vaughan and Double Trouble Live at Montreux 1982 & 1985″ that I because truly awed by Stevie Ray. I had heard it said several times that SRV played every piece of music as if his life depended on it. Watching the DVD, I saw that people people said such things because it was true. He did, indeed, play every piece as if his life depended on it. The absolutely raw and intense emotion he poured into and pulled out of his guitar is breathtaking. He never gave up or lessened his intensity regardless of how long he played. Literally soaked in sweat, near the end of a performance, he is still slamming the strings, bending the strings as fast and far, shimmying across the stage as continuously, and growling as loudly as he did at the beginning.

This awe of SRV as a performer and my never-to-be-humble opinion of him as one of the greatest guitarists ever to have lived is not limited to lowly blues musicians such as myself and die-hard fans. This sentiment was shared by his peers as well as those who came before and went after. Here are a few comments about Stevie Ray Vaughan from three blues guitarists who are legendary in their own rights:

Jimmie Vaughan:

If you’re a guitar player, or a jazz musician, or any kind of musician that plays from the heart that kind of music, it’s sort of like a radio. You’ve got to tune it in. But once you get it on the station, you just sort of receive it. He could go to that place when he was playing on stage. He would walk out on stage, pick up the guitar, and within a couple of songs, just go to that place where he was receiving inspiration…And that’s not easy to do.

B.B. King:

You stop and think, “My God! Listen to this guy play!” His Hands! — They seemed to be flawless the way he moved with it. When I play, I play sort of like talking. Syllables. You say a sentence here, a sentence there. And then I’ve got to stop and think of something else to keep my conversation going. Be he didn’t seem to be doing that at all. It was fluent. He flowed when he played….It would just go on and on, and ideas continuously flowed. I don’t have that.

Eric Clapton:

About three or four times in my life…in a car listening to the radio, where I’ve stopped the car, pulled over and listened, and thought”“I’ve got to find out, before the end of the day…not sooner or later… but I have to know NOW who that is”….He never ever seemed to be lost in any way. It wasn’t ever that he took a breather, or paused to think where he was going to go next. It just flowed out of him. It always seemed to flow out of him…

He seemed to be an open channel and it just flowed through him…I sometimes stop every now and then I stop and think, “What am I going to do now” or “I don’t want to repeat myself.” So I’ll get caught up somehow. You freeze. You kind of freeze. Most players do, and I never saw him do that. He was a channel in some way…

When we were at Alpine Valley [The concert after which SRV was killed]. I couldn’t let myself [surrender completely to his music]. I had to put up a bit of resistance in order to keep my own self-esteem up. Because I wouldn’t have been able to go on otherwise. I’m not joking! To have been completely absorbed by what he was doing, I would have thought “What’s the point?” and done a runner, cleared off, run away.

Praise like that could easily go to your head. During my five years as a radio DJ at some of the top stations in Northern Utah, I attended an unbelievable number of concerts and met many top recording stars of the late 1980s. They ran the gamut from humble, grateful, appreciative artists who realized they were blessed to some of the most self-centered, arrogant people I have ever met. From everything I have ever read about Stevie Ray, he never lost site of who he was, where he came from, and who came before him. He appears to me to have be a real human’s human.

He may have been a little too human. Like many great musicians and others, he fell into the trap of alcohol and drugs. These vices very nearly killed both Stevie Ray and his bassist Tommy Shannon.

Thankfully, Stevie Ray and Tommy Shannon entered treatment on the same day in 1986, thus saving the lives of two great musicians. Unfortunately, Stevie Ray was preserved for only four more years. How he used those remaining years to affect the lives of others both through his music and outside of his music is a testament to the heart of a real human being.

One of the most moving statements I have read about Stevie Ray’s last few years was a letter written by Tommy Shannon in October 1996. The letter can be found on Tommy Shannon’s website at tommyshannon.com. The full text of the letter reads:

October 3, 1996

My name is Tommy Shannon. I would like to share a brief letter with you about my friend Stevie Ray Vaughan.

I have known Stevie since he was fourteen years old. That’s a long time. There is no way I can say everything I would like to in this letter. However, I would like to share with you what kind of person Stevie was. The books and articles written about him focused mostly on his guitar playing. They never talked much about the depth and beauty of his spirit.

Like I said, I have known Stevie since he was a kid. We became friends then. About a year after I met Stevie, we played in a band called, “Blackbird,” and then later in a band called, “Kracker Jack.” Then, in 1981, I joined him in Double Trouble.

About Stevie:

First of all, I have to say Stevie Ray Vaughan was not perfect. He was a human being like you and I. He had problems just like everyone else. He had to work on those problems like anyone who has the courage to try and live a spiritual life. It’s not easy. Many people dare not to choose that path. It means letting go of an old self and by the grace of God becoming our true selves: that which we were meant to be all along. I do not want to sound like I am preaching. I’m not qualified to do that. However, to write about Stevie and who he really is, I have to write about spirituality.

Stevie is the best friend I have ever known. We shared things with each other that no one will ever know. While I was playing with him in Double Trouble, I lived with him and his wife, Lenny (until I got married). While we were on the road, we always had adjoining rooms, so we could always be in touch. I love him so much, it can not be put into words.

Stevie and I went through a lot of changes together. When we were much younger, (before Double Trouble) we had no money. Sometimes we went without food, and other things we needed. However, we didn’t mind this much. We were playing music…that seemed to be the only thing that mattered.

About my nine years with Double Trouble:

During the first few years, Stevie and I were doing a lot of drugs and alcohol. For a long time, we were having a lot of fun. Sex, Drugs, and Rock n’ Roll…that’s how we lived. Eventually, things got worse. Our personal lives, and our relationships with others kept getting worse, and worse. We reached a point where we knew we were in deep trouble. The truth is, at that time we couldn’t stop. There was no human power that could help us. Our friends tried to help, but they couldn’t. I will always remember one night, we got down on our knees and prayed for help. There was no instant answer. We continued getting high. Was that prayer unanswered because we kept using?

That prayer was answered in the most profound way. That prayer was the turning point of our lives. We had to continue doing what we were doing until the pain became too hard to bear. We were broken inside. First Stevie, and then myself. We had no power, nothing to stand upon. We were beaten. However, that was the best thing that ever happened to us. Even that suffering was a gift from God. We had to reach the bottom, before we could be open to God’s grace.

On October 13, 1986, we checked ourselves into treatment…Stevie in Atlanta, and me here in Austin. After that, we started in a program in which we worked on twelve steps which transformed our lives. I watched Stevie grow and change. Stevie was always kind and helpful to others. Whenever he had a chance to help someone else who was suffering what he had suffered, he was there. His eyes would light up and you could see his love and sincerity.

Stevie helped more people get clean and sober than anyone I know. So many people were blessed by his life. So was I blessed by his life.

All of you reading this know how beautiful his music was, how great his talent. I wish you could have known him, I really do…because his spirit was even more beautiful. He was humble, yet strong. All of Stevie’s life he wanted to do the right thing. Even when he was still using drugs and alcohol, he wanted to do the right things. He was always that way.

I believe that if Stevie could speak to you right now, he would say:

“Take care of each other. Learn to love. Turn to God. He has all power. No matter how bad your condition is, he can and will change it…if you let him. Have faith, no matter what.”

On October 13th, 1996, I will have ten years of living clean and sober. Each year, in the program, we celebrate by picking up a chip (or medallion) with the number of years of sobriety on it. Stevie had four years of sobriety when he died. Each year, when I pick up my chip, I also pick one up for Stevie. I will do so this year also, and I will do so for as long as I stay sober. When I pick up these chips, I always talk about, and to Stevie.

In closing this letter, I would like to say that Chris Layton and myself are doing fine. We are playing in a band called “Storyville.” We just released a record on the Code Blue/Atlantic label, entitled, “A Piece of Your Soul.” Also, I would like to say Chris is a wonderful person. Stevie loved him as much as any friend. We were all like family. That also includes Reese.

I would like to thank Martha Vaughan, Stevie’s wonderful mother. In her, I see where Stevie’s gifts come from. I have no doubt that she lives in the spirit of God. I have never known anyone with more strength and faith.

I would also like to thank Jimmie Vaughan. Without him, Stevie would never have become what he was. Jimmie was Stevie’s biggest influence, and his biggest inspiration.

Thank you, Beverly Howell, for asking me to write this letter. There will be more in the future.

God Bless, and thank you,

Tommy

Although it took a decade or more longer for me than it did for others, I finally came to understand the shock and sadness at the loss of Stevie Ray Vaughan.

I will never be able to play anything like SRV played. I will never come close. I take comfort in knowing that his legacy as an icon will be preserved because no one else can or will play like him.

I recently obtained another DVD titled “A Tribute To Stevie Ray Vaughan.” That DVD contains a song written by Aaron Neville titled “Six Strings Down” performed live by blues and jazz greats Jimmie Vaughan, Eric Clapton, Bonnie Raitt, Robert Cray, B.B. King, Buddy Guy, Dr. John, and Aaron Neville.

As I watched and listened to Jimmie Vaughan’s smooth vocals launch into the incredibly touching song about his six-string guitar-playing brother’s tragic death in a downed helicopter after a concert at Alpine Valley in August 1990, backed up by Clapton, Cray and Guy, who were also at that last SRV concert, and other great musicians, I did something that I have not done while listening to music in a long time. I cried.

I choke up now, just reading the lyrics to that song. They lyrics are:

Six Strings Down - by Art Neville

Alpine valley
In the middle of the night
Six strings down
On the heaven-bound flight

Got a pick, a strap, guitar on his back
Ain’t gonna cut the angels no slack
Heaven done called
Another blues-stringer back home

See the voodoo chile
Holding out his hand
I’ve been waitin’ on you brother
Welcome to the band

Good blues-stringin’
Heaven-fine singin’
Jesus, Mary and Joseph
Been lis’nin’ to your playin’

Heaven done called
Another blues-stringer back home
Lord they called
Another blues-stringer back home

Albert Collins up there
Muddy an’ Lightnin’ too
Albert King and Freddy
Playin’ the blues

T-Bone Walker, Guitar Slim
Little Son Jackson and
Frankie Lee Sims

Heaven done called
Another blues-stringer back home
Lord they called
Another blues-stringer back home

People often ask me why I sit down when I play the guitar.  I will usually say something about being a classical guitarist and maintain the position out of habit, or I will mention that these resonators weigh a ton.

To see the other, unspoken reason why I play sitting down, continue reading by clicking on the “read more” link below:

(more…)

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.

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.

“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)