"I play so rough - I stomp 'em - I don't peddle 'em"
White explaining how he played his National Steel guitar
Although he is often times now remembered more for being the older first cousin of blues legend B.B. King, Booker "Bukka" White was a powerful country blues guitar player and singer who helped make the resonator guitar a genuine staple of the country blues genre. His style was rough and unvarnished with a raw power that exemplified a stinging style of guitar playing that influenced and continues to influence music.
Born on November 12th in either 1902 or 1909 (official records in rural areas were kept haphazardly or not at all at the turn of the century) on a farm near Houston, Mississippi, he was one of seven children. White was raised by his maternal grandfather, the Reverend Punk Davisson while his father, a railroad fireman and part-time musician split his time between the road and the rails. When his father was in town, he taught White to play the guitar after giving him his first when White turned 9 years old. The elder White took his children to the local Baptist church where the influence of the gospel music was not lost on Bukka.
"My father, John White, was a railroad man. I got the trains from him. I got the music from him too," White recollected about his father.
Around 1919, the family relocated to Grenada, Mississippi and Bukka found himself in the midst of the growing Delta blues scene. White often said that it was seeing Charlie Patton play in Grenada that helped him realize that blues was his music. "You can write the truth with the blues. You see, I tell you, you gotta feed your mind with something all the time."
As White began to expand upon his own style, he began to take any gig he could find. After long days working the fields, White would play delta juke joints, honky tonks, dances, pool rooms and bars and on the streets from Grenada to St. Louis. At the time, he was learning some guitar and piano from a local blues artist, Johnny Thomas. As one would expect, there was not much pay for the gigs. "I played for a rabbit sandwich, piece of egg pie or tater pie and all the water I could drink," White said of the early days.
White married in 1925 and as a gift, his father presented him with a brand new Stella guitar. Sadly, White's wife passed away three years after they were married from a ruptured appendix.
In 1930, while playing in Memphis, White met up with Ralph Lembo, a white furniture dealer, who happened to be an agent for the Victor Record label. Lembo convinced White to record 14 sides for the label in Lembo's makeshift studio inside of his furniture store. Most of what White recorded was gospel records. As this was in the middle of the Great Depression, Victor opted to only release 4 of the sides, none made much of an impact on the record buying public.
White spent some time hopping the trains around the country for in the early 30's and eventually returned to Aberdeen, Mississippi where he re-married. Although he continued to perform occasionally (working with his wifes uncle George "Bullet" Williams), he also spent time pitching for the Birmingham Black Cats of the Negro Leagues, fighting as a semi-professional boxer and making moonshine to squeeze out a living.
In the summer of 1937, White had arranged an audition with Vocalion Records in Chicago. Before he could record for the label, he and a friend from Chicago decided to return south for a visit. When they neared their home, White was attacked by a man who had been looking for him. White always claimed self-defense. "Well, I had a .38 Colt in there and I let it loose. And I just shot him where I wanted to shoot him. Broke his thigh". White was arrested for the shooting and sentenced to the infamous Parchman Farm prison for a term of two years. However before he began to serve his sentence, White returned to Chicago and recorded two sides for Vocalion ("Pinebluff, Arkansas" and "Shake 'em on down"). There are several different stories about how he managed to make it to Chicago to record the sides from him breaking bail to Vocalion intervening to allow him the time but after the recording session White returned to Parchman prison and served his full term. While at Parchman,Vocalion released "Shake 'em on down" which sold 16,000 copies. Although the number may not seem impressive by today's sales standards, for a blues record released in the midst of the Great Depression, it was a major hit. White also recorded two sides for Library of Congress archivist Alan Lomax while serving his time.
When he was released, Vocalion was ready and waiting, anxious to capitalize on the success of "Shake 'em on down". White wanted to do his own takes on some popular blues tunes of the day but Lester Melrose of Vocalion had other ideas. Melrose knew that there was more profit in copy-writing original material so he gave White a 'meal ticket' (free room and board at a hotel) and instructions to come up with new material. By March of 1940, White recorded 14 tracks for the label including "Fixin' To Die Blues", "Parchman Farm Blues" and "Aberdeen, Mississippi Blues" and Melrose couldn't have been happier.
In an interview later in his life, White said "I never had a man, black or white, kiss me dead on the mouth before, but that's what he done (speaking of Melrose). He say "Lord man, you done 100%. I've been on this job 35 years and I never seen a man do what you done in two days." He said "Just how the hell did you get it? Where did you come from? When you came up here before, you had what all the other folks had. You was doing Peetie Wheatstraw and Tampa Red and all the others. But this stuff is Booker White all the way." '
And yet despite the accolades of Melrose, White's early career never found legs. He continued to play locally and occasionally on the chitlin' circuit but he sustained himself primarily through odd jobs. He eventually faded from view all together and by the end of the 1950's, he was rumored to have died.
But, as luck would have it, the blues 'boom' of the early 1960's resurrected the prematurely reported dead Bukka White. Blues fans and researchers were not convinced that White had died but no one knew where he was living. In 1963, UC-Berkley student and blues fan, John Fahey, listened to Whites recording 'Aberdeen Blues' which contains the line 'Aberdeen is my home but the mens don't want me around' and decided to take a chance. The story is that Fahey decided to write a letter to 'Bukka White (Old Blues Singer), c/o General Delivery, Aberdeen ' and sent it off. Relatives of White's received the letter and passed it on to Bukka and he wrote back to Fahey. Within two hours of receiving the letter, Fahey and another student left for Memphis where they located White.
The duo recorded a few tracks from White the day they arrived and recorded and released a full length record from him a few weeks later.
In short order, White's career was revived and launched him into the public eye in a way that he could have never have imagined. In the remaining years of his life, White played blues festivals, colleges, coffee houses, concerts in the United States, Europe and Asia as well as playing at the Olympic Games in Mexico City in 1968.
White died of cancer at the age of 70 in 1977.
Along with his powerful playing and skill with a resonator and his thunderous vocal style, White may have a less direct influence on blues. Whites former manager Arne Brogger recalled an incident at show at Western Illinois University in 1974 where White shared the bill with his cousin B.B. King and Muddy Waters. "At the close of the show, B.B. called Bukka up on the stage to acknowledge him. Bukka grabbed the mike and began to talk. He reminded B.B. of the first guitar B.B. ever had – a red Stella given to him by Bukka. Bukka said B.B. was about 9 years old at the time. "You remember B., you was so little next to that big red Stella …" There was absolute silence. B.B. was looking at the tops of his shoes. His eyes were filling. He looked for all the world like a 9 year old boy standing on the stage. "Yeah, I sure do remember," he finally said, and then he threw his arms around Bukka. The audience erupted.'
It's funny how one seemingly insignificant act could, in its own way, help create a legend and perhaps nudge the direction of a entire genre.
[FONT=Tahoma]"All I can do is be me ... whoever that is". Bob Dylan [/FONT]
