Hi all,
I've been listening recently to the Yazoo compilation "Twenty First St. Stomp--The Piano Blues of St. Louis", one of the discs from Yazoo's superlatively strong set of piano blues releases, put together by the late Francis Wilford-Smith. This track by James "Stump" Johnson caught my ear. He accompanied himself on piano for the cut, on which he was joined by Joe C. Stone, who on this track sounded neither like Jaydee Short, whom he has been surmised to be, nor the Joe Stone who recorded "It's Hard Time" and Back Door Blues". Stump's piano playing is serviceable, but his singing is really nice, and the melody he puts his lyrics to is the same one that Charlie Patton used for "High Sheriff Blues", one of the prettiest blues melodies, I think.
Stump has three tracks on the CD, and they all have exceptional lyrics. For reasons that are not clear to me, St. Louis blues of the period quite often seemed to have lyrics that were a noticeable cut above what was coming out of Chicago at the same time. Perhaps it was just a function of the individuals who happened to live there. In any event, these lyrics are very fine. And I can understand Stump's concern with his lard being thoughtlessly made available to others without his prior consent. Here is "Don't Give My Lard Away":
You may know, all my clothes in pawn
You may know that all my clothes in pawn
For the shape I'm in, babe, I can't do you no harm
I was listening to the tune of a saxophone 'cross the way
I was listening to the tune of a saxophone 'cross the way
Where Gutbucket Tillie showed her drawers 'til day
Joint we are in, babe, smell like a Kentucky mine
This joint that we're in, babe, smell like a Kentucky mine
We haven't had off our shoes, but we're havin' a stinkin' good time
Pull up your dress, babe, let your short man see
Pull up your dress, babe, let your short man see
Your bloomers is hangin', babe, sure is worryin' me
Please, my babe, don't give my lard away
Please, my baby, don't give my lard away
I'm a sick man, now, but I swear I'll be well someday
All best,
Johnm
I've been listening recently to the Yazoo compilation "Twenty First St. Stomp--The Piano Blues of St. Louis", one of the discs from Yazoo's superlatively strong set of piano blues releases, put together by the late Francis Wilford-Smith. This track by James "Stump" Johnson caught my ear. He accompanied himself on piano for the cut, on which he was joined by Joe C. Stone, who on this track sounded neither like Jaydee Short, whom he has been surmised to be, nor the Joe Stone who recorded "It's Hard Time" and Back Door Blues". Stump's piano playing is serviceable, but his singing is really nice, and the melody he puts his lyrics to is the same one that Charlie Patton used for "High Sheriff Blues", one of the prettiest blues melodies, I think.
Stump has three tracks on the CD, and they all have exceptional lyrics. For reasons that are not clear to me, St. Louis blues of the period quite often seemed to have lyrics that were a noticeable cut above what was coming out of Chicago at the same time. Perhaps it was just a function of the individuals who happened to live there. In any event, these lyrics are very fine. And I can understand Stump's concern with his lard being thoughtlessly made available to others without his prior consent. Here is "Don't Give My Lard Away":
You may know, all my clothes in pawn
You may know that all my clothes in pawn
For the shape I'm in, babe, I can't do you no harm
I was listening to the tune of a saxophone 'cross the way
I was listening to the tune of a saxophone 'cross the way
Where Gutbucket Tillie showed her drawers 'til day
Joint we are in, babe, smell like a Kentucky mine
This joint that we're in, babe, smell like a Kentucky mine
We haven't had off our shoes, but we're havin' a stinkin' good time
Pull up your dress, babe, let your short man see
Pull up your dress, babe, let your short man see
Your bloomers is hangin', babe, sure is worryin' me
Please, my babe, don't give my lard away
Please, my baby, don't give my lard away
I'm a sick man, now, but I swear I'll be well someday
All best,
Johnm