Decca 7279 – Sleepy John Estes – 1935

Producing more than fifty recordings between 1929 and 1941, Sleepy John Estes ranks alongside Blind Boy Fuller, Big Bill Broonzy, Peetie Wheatstraw, and a few others as one of the most prolific of the pre-war bluesmen.  Though not considered the most capable guitarist, Estes amply made up for whatever he may have lacked in instrumental ability with his distinctive “crying” vocals and storytelling talent.  Estes’s songs—many of which were based on things that happened to him or people he knew—are considered by some to be among the best of their kind, and have proved influential among the generations of musicians that followed him.

Sleepy John Estes with Yank Rachell and Hammie Nixon in 1964. Photo by Len Kunstadt, published in Record Research magazine.

John Adams Estes (while his headstone and modern sources give his middle name as “Adam”, early documents seem to support the “s” as in our second president) was born on January 25 of either 1899 or 1900, in Ripley, Tennessee.  As a youth, he moved with his family to the nearby town of Brownsville, where he learned to play guitar with local musician Hambone Willie Newbern.  Though a farmer by trade, he established himself in the blues scene alongside the likes of Son Bonds, Charlie Pickett, and his frequent accompanists Hammie Nixon and James “Yank” Rachell.  In 1929, veteran blues artist Jim Jackson brought Estes and his compatriots to the attention of Ralph S. Peer of the Victor Talking Machine Company.  Thereafter, Estes made his debut recordings at a series of sessions in September and October of 1929 in Memphis, Tennessee, backed on most by his friend Yank Rachell on mandolin and pianist Jab Jones of the Memphis Jug Band.  He continued to record for Victor until late in 1930, producing sixteen sides including such excellent recordings as “Diving Duck Blues”, “Milk Cow Blues”, and “The Girl I Love She Got Long Curly Hair”, as well as four sides as a member of Noah Lewis’ Jug Band.  As the onset of the Great Depression largely quelled on-location recording activities, Estes had to travel to Chicago and New York to make further recordings, and he did so in 1935 for the fledgling Decca record company, initially appearing on their Champion subsidiary (which they had recently acquired from Gennett).  Joined on most by Hammie Nixon’s harmonica and on many others by Charlie Pickett’s guitar, Estes produced thirty vocal recordings for Decca between 1935 and 1940, as well as several more accompanying pianists Lee Brown and Lee Green, and fellow Brownsville bluesman Son Bonds   Among those thirty were many of his most famous songs, including “Someday Baby Blues”, “Floating Bridge”, “Everybody Oughta Make a Change”, and “Liquor Store Blues”.  Estes final pre-war session was on September 24, 1941, with Son Bonds and Raymond Thomas joining him to wax twelve sides for RCA Victor’s Bluebird label, three of which were credited to Estes, another three found him accompanying Bonds, and the rest were released under the name “The Delta Boys”.  After the war, Estes unsuccessfully attempted to revive his recording career with sessions for Ora Nelle in 1948 and Sun in 1952, but none of the recordings were issued, and he descended into obscurity.  As the folk music revival brought new fame to old blues musicians in the late 1950s and early ’60s, Estes’s recordings were reissued on several prominent compilations, but he was initially believed to be dead (thanks in no small part to the testimony of Big Bill Broonzy).  When he was eventually rediscovered by folkorists Sam Charters and Bob Koester, he was in fact very much alive, albeit blind and living in abject poverty.  Sounding much the same in old age as when he was a young man, Estes, along with Nixon and Rachell, returned to recording and touring with considerable success for the decade-and-a-half that followed.  On June 5, 1977, John Estes suffered a stroke, and died at his home in Brownsville, Tennessee, which has since been preserved for posterity as a museum.

Decca 7279 was recorded on July 9, 1935, in Chicago, Illinois, and was originally issued on Champion 50068 (which does not turn up very often).  This issue.was released in March of 1937.  It features Sleepy John Estes singing and playing guitar, accompanied by Hammie Nixon on harmonica.

On side “A”, Estes sings “Someday Baby Blues” backed by Nixon’s harmonica, an iconic performance if there ever was one (and that’s not a term I use lightly), which inspired numerous covers transcending the blues genre into jazz and country music.  Though Estes and Nixon are credited as the song’s composers and often considered the originators the song, Estes’s rendition was preceded by an unissued recording by Memphis Willie B. the previous year, which did not see the light of day until finally being remastered and released by John Tefteller’s Blues Images in 2022.

Someday Baby Blues, recorded July 9, 1935 by Sleepy John Estes.

On the reverse, he sings the far less famous, but also excellent “Who’s Been Tellin’ You Buddy Brown Blues”.  The titular character, (known to “eat his breakfast, and then lay back down”) has appeared in a few other blues songs, most notably “Texas” Alexander’s “Ninety-Eight Degree Blues” of 1929.

Who’s Been Tellin’ You Buddy Brown Blues, recorded July 9, 1935 by Sleepy John Estes.

QRS R. 7049 – James (Stump) Johnson and his Piano – 1928

The Jazz Age saw several notable pianists by the name of “James Johnson”: stride master James P. Johnson, Lonnie Johnson’s brother James “Steady Roll” Johnson, songwriter and bandleader J.C. Johnson (who, in fact, was not named “James”, but is sometimes misidentified as such), and the St. Louis blues singer James J. “Stump” Johnson.  Perhaps one day every one of those Johnsons will have his time in the Old Time Blues limelight, but today we turn our attention only to the last, with his first and surely most popular recording.

James Jesse Johnson was born on January 17, 1902, to Henry F. and Betty Johnson of Clarksville, Tennessee.  When he was about seven years old, his family relocated to St. Louis, Missouri.  Growing up in a city rich in blues and ragtime, Johnson taught himself to play piano.  Standing just under five feet tall and just over two-hundred pounds as an adult, he earned the nickname “Stump” from his squat stature.  With the aid of his brother Jesse Johnson, a prominent music promoter and owner of the De Luxe Music Shoppe in St. Louis, he made a career for himself as a musician.  In late 1928, brother Jesse arranged for A&R man “Uncle” Art Satherley to bring Stump and his sister-in-law Edith North Johnson to the studio for their recording debut with a pair of discs for the short-lived QRS label, produced by the manufacturer of the eponymous piano rolls.  Subsequently, he made a series of sporadic recordings for various labels in the years that followed, both under his own name and under several pseudonyms, typically not making more than one or two records at a time.  His next record date came in August of 1929 with a Chicago session for the Brunswick company, making a single record under the name “Shorty George” with Tampa Red backing him on guitar.  In October of the same year, he went to Richmond, Indiana, to cut four sides with a small ensemble at the Gennett studio to be released on Paramount.  The following month, he was back in Chicago making two records for Okeh as “Snitcher Roberts” with pianist Alex Hill and guitarist Harry Johnson (presumably his brother of the same name).  Although Johnson himself was a competent piano player, a number of his recordings found him only taking the vocal while other pianists provided his accompaniment.  He next made one further Paramount in February of 1930 at their new Grafton, Wisconsin, recording facility.  It would be two more years before Johnson record again, breaking that dry spell with a February, 1932, session for Victor in Dallas, Texas, waxing another two sides, on which he was accompanied by fellow pianist Roosevelt Sykes (a.k.a. Willie Kelly)—plus one accompanying blues singer Walter Davis.  His last pre-war recording session was in Chicago in August of ’33, for RCA Victor’s Bluebird subsidiary, producing three sides featuring the piano of Aaron “Pine Top” Sparks and guitar of Joe C. Stone (believed to be a pseudonymous J.D. Short), one of which found him in duet with Dorothea Trowbridge.  As work for a musician became scarcer during the Great Depression, Johnson turned to work as a deputy constable and tax collector for the city of St. Louis, and he served in the army during the Second World War.  More than thirty years after his previous session but still in fine form, Stump made his final recordings in St. Louis in 1964, one of which appeared on the Euphonic label.  Only five years later, on December 5, 1969, Stump Johnson died from esophageal cancer at the Veterans’ Administration Hospital in his hometown of St. Louis, Missouri.

QRS R. 7049 was recorded in Long Island City, New York, in December of 1928 (some sources suggest January, 1929) and released the following year.  It was also issued on Paramount 12842.  As the label indicates, it features James “Stump” Johnson singing and accompanying himself on the piano.

An instant classic, “The Duck—Yas—Yas—Yas” (better known as “The Duck’s Yas Yas Yas”) was undoubtedly Stump’s most famous and successful song, spawning cover versions for decades to come, by artists ranging from hokum kings Tampa Red and Georgia Tom to jazz bands like Eddie Johnson and his Crackerjacks.  Stump himself re-recorded the song at least twice.

The Duck—Yas—Yas—Yas, recorded c. December 1928 by James (Stump) Johnson.

Though not as big of a hit as the former, “The Snitchers Blues” was evidently another of Johnson’s signature songs, as he recorded it several times over the course of his career, and adopted it’s title as his nom de disque for his Okeh recordings of 1930.  Stump’s exclamation at the end of “What?  Well give me another drink then, that’s all right then,” was apparently a candid remark in reference to the booze offered to him and other black musicians in the studio by the record producers in hopes of loosening them up and getting better performances.

The Snitchers Blues, recorded c. December 1928 by James (Stump) Johnson.

Bluebird 34-0706 – Tommy McClennan – 1942

One of the roughest-hewn bluesmen to emerge from the Mississippi Delta, Tommy McClennan was known for his distinctively uncomplicated but hard-grooving style of guitar playing, coarse and gravelly vocals, and evocative, sometimes provocative lyrics.  Though his recording career spanned only three years, McClennan’s records were among the best selling by a Delta musician in the pre-World War II era.  Despite that success, most of the details surrounding McClennan’s life and work are uncertain, if not outright lost to time.

A crop of the only known photograph of Tommy McClennan, pictured in Bluebird catalog supplement.

Tommy McClennan is believed to have been born on January 4, 1905, in Durant, Mississippi, one of Virgil and Cassie McClennan’s several children.  He grew up on plantations in Carroll and Leflore Counties, and was later known to have spent much of his time in Yazoo City and Greenwood.  As a musician, he associated himself with fellow bluesmen Robert Petway and David “Honeyboy” Edwards, and was well known around the southern Mississippi Delta as “Sugar” or “Bottle Up”.  While living on the Sligh Plantation in Yazoo City in 1939, McClennan was “scouted” by Chicago blues impresario Lester Melrose.  Subsequently, like so many of compatriots, he traveled north to make a record.  At five sessions between November 22, 1939, and February 20, 1942, Tommy McClennan recorded forty sides for RCA Victor’s Bluebird label, cutting exactly eight tracks each time—plus an appearance on his friend Robert Petway’s “Boogie Woogie Woman” at the last date.  His twenty records saw considerable success compared to those of many of his contemporaries, and many of songs inspired covers in later years.  Among his recorded songs were his famous “Bottle it Up and Go”, “Cross Cut Saw Blues”, and “Deep Blue Sea Blues”—the last of which he called “the best one I’ve got.”  He was well remembered during that period by Big Bill Broonzy, who later recounted some sordid tales of him, such as an occasion in which Broonzy purportedly shoved him out the window of a Chicago blues club after some of the controversial verses in his “Bottle it Up and Go” riled the crowd to the point of violence.  Although his recording career came as the rural-flavored, unelectrified blues of pre-war years was being supplanted by a more urbane, amplified and ensemble-based style that would dominate in years to come, his music and lyrics were deeply steeped in the Delta blues tradition of his earlier contemporaries.  After the conclusion of his recording career, McClennan evidently remained in Chicago, where he is thought to have continued to perform for about a decade before descending into alcoholism and underworld life.  On May 9, 1961, Tommy McClennan died of bronchopneumonia at the Cook County Hospital in Chicago at the age of fifty-six, just as the folk and blues revival was beginning to gain steam.  Though he didn’t make it to see the revival firsthand, many of McClennan’s recordings have since been reissued on prominent blues compilations, earning him well-deserved recognition in the years and decades since his death.

Bluebird 34-0706 was recorded on February 20, 1942, in RCA Victor’s Studio A in Chicago, Illinois—Tommy McClennan’s last session.  McClennan’s vocal and guitar are accompanied by the prolific Ransom Knowling on string bass.

On the “A” side of 34-0706, Tommy McClennan sings “Roll Me, Baby”, espousing a common theme in blues songs, very similar to Arthur “Big Boy” Crudup’s “Rock Me Mamma” or “Rockin’ and Rollin'” as made famous by Little Son Jackson.

Roll Me, Baby, recorded February 20, 1942 by Tommy McClennan.

And on the “B” side, Tommy delivers a fine performance on “Blue as I Can Be”, a number which seems to be one of his more popular recordings in the present day.  It is as good an example as any of his famously rugged fashion of both singing and guitar playing.

Blue as I Can Be, recorded February 20, 1942 by Tommy McClennan.

Paramount 12855 – Will Ezell – 1929

At Old Time Blues, we have developed a tradition of honoring both the legends and the lost of recorded American music—and quite often both are one and the same.  In that vein, let us take a look herein at the life and career of Texas native ragtime pianist, boogie-woogie pioneer, and Paramount recording star Will Ezell, and a record that some have hailed as the birth of rock ‘n’ roll.

William Ezell was born in Brenham, Texas, on December 23, 1892, one of six children born to Lorenza and Rachel Ezell.  Beginning in his teenage years, Will was playing piano in juke joints and lumber camp barrelhouses around eastern Texas and western Louisiana—the country where boogie-woogie was born.  As an itinerant piano player, Ezell was known to have played in various locations from Dallas to New Orleans, where he was living by the time of the First World War.  It was perhaps during this time in Louisiana that he encountered blues singer Elzadie Robinson—a native of the Shreveport area—and the two struck up something of a partnership.  Around 1925, Ezell and Robinson traveled north to Chicago, where they made their phonograph recording debut for the New York Recording Laboratories of Port Washington, Wisconsin, manufacturers of Paramount Records.  Subsequently, between 1926 and 1931, Ezell recorded somewhat prolifically for Paramount, both solo and as an accompanist.  A few of his notable piano recordings include “Barrel House Man”, “Heifer Dust”, “Mixed Up Rag”, “Bucket of Blood”, and “Pitchin’ Boogie”.  As an accompanist, Ezell played piano behind such blues singers as Lucille Bogan, Bertha Henderson, Side Wheel Sally Duffie, Blind Roosevelt Graves, and of course Elzadie Robinson.  In 1929, he appeared with Blind Lemon Jefferson, Blind Blake, Papa Charlie Jackson, Charlie Spand, and the Hokum Boys on the “Hometown Skiffle”, a “descriptive novelty” record featuring Paramount’s top stars.  It has been reported, of uncertain veracity, that Paramount commissioned Ezell to escort the body of their star recording artist Blind Lemon Jefferson home to Texas upon his untimely demise in late 1929.  When the Great Depression struck and severely affected Paramount’s recording activities, Ezell’s output slowed considerably, and he made his final known recordings in early 1931, accompanying Sam “Slim” Tarpley on one record.  Although he made no further recordings, his existing body of work began to see reissues as early as the 1940s.  Subsequently, he reportedly went back on the road, returning for a time to Louisiana, before settling in Chicago permanently by the end of the 1930s, where he found work for the WPA.  According to John Steiner—who revived the Paramount label in the late 1940s—Ezell later made appearances alongside fellow former Paramount artists Blind Leroy Garnett and Charlie Spand at the Big Apple Tavern in Chicago, owned by prolific pianist Cripple Clarence Lofton.  Ezell called Chicago his home for the rest of his life, and he died there on August 2, 1963.

Paramount 12855 was recorded at the Starr Piano Company’s recording laboratory in Richmond, Indiana, on September 20, 1929.  Will Ezell is on the piano, and is accompanied by Blind Roosevelt Graves on guitar, his brother Uaroy Graves on tambourine, and probably “Baby Jay” James on cornet.

Ezell’s hard-driving “Pitchin’ Boogie” is often suggested to be an early antecedent of rock ‘n’ roll, with its stomping barrelhouse piano beat coupled with the guitar and cornet of the Graves brothers’ Mississippi Jook Band making for a prototype of the early rock band lineup.

Pitchin’ Boogie, recorded September 20, 1929 by Will Ezell.

On the “B” side (which the original owner evidently enjoyed more than the former), “Just Can’t Stay Here” dishes out more of the same stuff, but arranged more as a standard twelve-bar blues song than a rent party rollick.

Just Can’t Stay Here, recorded September 20, 1929 by Will Ezell.

Paramount 12650 – Blind Lemon Jefferson – 1928

Back in the days of 78 RPM, it was not an altogether uncommon sight to find records bearing elaborate and often colorful “picture labels” (not to be confused with picture discs), individuating special releases or records by big-time hit-makers from the hoi polloi.  The Columbia company was perhaps the chief exploiter of this gimmick, issuing special label designs on many discs by their stars Paul Whiteman and Ted Lewis in the 1920s, and one more on their subsidiary Okeh for Seger Ellis.  On the other hand, the New York Recording Laboratory of Port Washington, Wisconsin, manufacturer of Paramount records produced only three such picture labels, which were used for only three different records; the first was in 1924 for their top star “Ma” Rainey, the next for white preacher Rev. J.O. Hanes in 1927, and finally, in 1928, one for their new big moneymaker, Blind Lemon Jefferson.

On a striking bright label of white and (appropriately) lemon yellow—in stark contrast to Paramount’s standard black and gold design—were emblazoned the words “Blind Lemon Jeffersons’ [sic] Birthday Record”.  As to exactly what day it was celebrating, that is not concretely known.  The most commonly agreed upon date attributed to Lemon Jefferson’s birth is September 24, 1893, supported by both the 1900 and 1910 United States censuses, but others have been suggested.  Lemon himself gave a date of October 26, 1894, to one Edward Seaman, registrar of his 1917 draft card, which also seems to be supported by his reported age of twenty-five in the 1920 census.  His 1930 obituary in the Wortham Journal gave his age as forty-five, suggesting he was born as early as 1884.  Others still have proposed a birth date of July 11, 1897.  Some oddities exist surrounding Lemon’s census records, which further complicates matters.  In his entry in the 1900 census, the enumerator, one Leonard Carrier, appears to have reported his birth date as “Sept 24”, with the number written in small print above the month, despite the fact that dates of birth were not recorded in that census, only months, and no other birth dates were recorded for other individuals in the same or adjacent pages.  Why then, did Mr. Carrier seemingly write down the full date of birth for Lemon and only Lemon?  Did he somehow foresee that this six-year-old blind boy would one day be a star, and this information would be valuable one-hundred years from then?  Did Lemon’s mother or father give the full date (which incidentally is the only date or month recorded for the entire Jefferson family) and he decided to write it down for the heck of it, despite no space for it being given?  Or could this errant “24” have some other obscure meaning, perhaps lost to time?  Those are questions which I, at this time, cannot answer.  Perhaps some census expert may have better insight.  The same census also reported Lemon’s name as “Jefferson, Lemmon\Bl”, which has been misinterpreted to mean that Lemon’s real, full name was “Lemmon B. Jefferson”.  That is not the case—in fact, the “Bl” next to his name was to denote his blindness (some censuses contained a separate column to indicate whether the subject was blind, but 1900 did not); so it seems that, at least by the United States federal government, he was already dubbed “Blind Lemon Jefferson” by the age of six.  The anomalous spelling of “Lemmon” can be easily discounted as well, for the census was taken orally and filled out be the enumerator, thus numerous spelling errors are present.  In any event, Lemon’s “Birthday Record” was released to the public in August of 1928, which could be interpreted as belatedly celebrating his July birthday, or preemptively celebrating his September birthday—that is assuming it was not simply a marketing gimmick irrespective of the actual date of his birth, a prospect that may well be the most probable.

Paramount 12650 was recorded circa March and June of 1928, respectively, and was released in August of the same year, with the first advertisement for it appearing in the Chicago Defender on August 4, 1928.

“Piney Woods Money Mama” is one of Lemon;s lyrical masterworks, one of many songs he recorded which appear to be mostly original, rather than drawn from the “floating verse” tradition, as so many blues songs of his day were.  “She got ways like the devil and hair like a Injun squaw; she’s been tryin’ two years to get me to be her son-in-law.”

Piney Woods Money Mama, recorded c. March 1928 by Blind Lemon Jefferson.

On the “B” side, the hoodoo-tinged “Low Down Mojo Blues” is perhaps not as memorable a song as the former, but still a testament to Lemon’s songwriting genius and expressive guitar playing.

Low Down Mojo Blues, recorded c. June 1928 by Blind Lemon Jefferson