| David
'Honeyboy' Edwards
Charlies, Tuesday 15th
November 2005
Public Enemy
The Forum, Wednesday 16th Novemeber 2005
Reviewed by Ricardo.
Photos by Stephen Sleddon (Honeyboy) and Ricardo (Public Enemy)
It's
been an innarresting week of gig going that got me to thinking about
the nature of the blues, my own (white european) response
to it and about how time, as they say, makes a change.
In
the 1930's black Americans synthesised a musical style that gave
voice to their disenfranchisement in the language and symbols of
the era - The Blues. 50 years later, the playing field still not
level, another generation of black Americans did exactly the same
thing. The form was different, but a new synthesis evolved which
expressed the daily realities of life for black people in America
in terms relevant to the times. It became known as Hip Hop.
David 'Honeyboy' Edwards began his musical career
in Mississippi in the 1930s, was a contemporary of Robert
Johnson, Charlie Patton and Big
Joe Williams and can be counted as one of the few remaining
links back to the origins of what we now understand as 'The Blues'.
Public Enemy emerged in the 1980's as one of the
leading forces of Hip Hop. Raw and direct and not without controversy,
they championed a musical form that, as with the blues, was so compelling,
the message so universal, that it was able to transcend it's specific
origins and connect with people all around the world.
The
links between blues and hip hop are widely recognised, but it was
an interesting couple of gigs to attend back to back. Both, to an
extent, were of 'historical' interest. With Honeyboy
because of the rarity of living connections to those times and with
Public Enemy because it felt almost like a nostalgia
tour - the majority of the thirty/fortysomethings in the audience
were, I suspect, there for 'back in the day' reminiscence reasons
rather than to be right at the cutting edge of newest-latestness.
So a pair of gigs where the attendance, the act of homage, was
almost the point of the thing. Thankfully then they both turned
out to be good in their own right...
Organisers
Geordie & John had, by all
accounts, taken a bit of a chance in putting Honeyboy on.
A £20 ticket on a Tuesday night in a one-off venue is no
way to guarantee a crowd, but after a quietish start the venue
filled out pretty well and hopefully we'll be seeing some more
top international acts playing down there in the future.
Dave Peabody kicked things off with his laid back
fingerstyle acoustic country blues - Blind Blakes
'Diddy Wah Diddy', and Blind Willie McTells 'Statesborough
Blues' stood out, as well as his own 'Hard to write a blues when
you're happy'. Towards the end of the set we had 'guest' turns with
first Rob Mason, then Paul Lamb
(what is it about the Northeast that turns up top harp players?)
which got the energy up in the room ready for Honeyboy to take the
stage.
Joined
by long time associate Michael Frank (founder of
Earwig
Records - 'When the blues big bites, wig out!"),
Honeyboy settles himself into his chair, straps on an electric
guitar and launches into a deep, dark, dirty 'Rolling Stone'. His
guitar playing has a sparse, raw feel, yet everything is there.
It's not particularly technical, and at times his 90 year old fingers
aren't quite up to his ambition, but that sort of thing never really
mattered anyway. What he is able to do fantastically well on the
guitar is create a feeling, generate a vibe, that fits perfectly
with the song and which fills out all the texture and tone, all
the colour and vibrancy which is needed to bring it to life.
And then there's the voice. Again, it's all about texture and tone
- deep, richly grained, and multi layered. His voice evokes a way
of life that no-one in the audience can claim to have a real understanding
of, but which Honeyboy conjures right there in front of us. 'Sweet
Home Chicago', almost a joke cliche of a blues tune now, here played
by a man who understands it's original meaning and context, is
extraordinary, and fresh.
After some initial difficulty getting harp and guitar locked into
sync it all comes together for Jimmy Rogers' 'That's
Alright', and it turns out Michael Frank is a pretty good harmonica
player who's clearly studied his Walters, large and small. Guitar
wise, I was struck by the similarity between Honeyboy and Dan
Auerbach of The Black Keys, but Whilst
Auerbach's playing could be described as a post-modern deconstruction,
it would be strange to say the same thing about Honeyboys. Draw
your own conclusions about there being a 'correct' way to play the
blues.
The
music stops for a while as Frank orchestrates a story telling session
with Honeyboy talking about recording with Alan Lomax - "He gave me 20 dollars - more money than I'd ever had. Took
me a month to spend it in 1942!" - and various 'romantic' situations
- "Time is out now. I used to be alright with the women but
time is out now". For the second set they're joined by Dave
Peabody and later another local legend, Big Joe Louis
makes an appearance. There's a bit of struggling with Honeyboy's
loose interpretation of the 'rules' - 'Long Chords' and 'Short Chords'
as Peabody put it - but the overall sound is all the better for
it.
Generally speaking, I'm deeply suspicious of the reverence which
infects the blues. It seems that almost from the outset peaple were
talking nonsense about 'authenticity' and claims for being the 'real
deal' abound throughout the history of the music. To paraphrase
Ray Charles, there are only two kinds of music - Good and Bad. Honeyboy's,
I'm pleased to say, falls into the first category, regardless of
how 'important' he may or may not be.
Bring
that beat back! Public Enemy in er... full effect
The
next night, another gig. This one started with a strange synchronisity. At
the bar in a not especially packed Forum (or Town & Country
Club if you're of a certain gig going age) I spotted a woman in
a Paul
Lamb and the Kingsnakes T-Shirt. Having already spent
some time musing on the blues/hip hop question, and having seen
Paul play with Honeyboy the night before, I was intrigued so
I spoke to her. Turned out she's a Dutch florist whose friend
gave her the shirt. She's not keen on the blues, or Hip Hop,
and is only there because she's meeting someone. So much for
grand theories.
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About
half past nine mate... |
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Anyway,
back to Public Enemy. For those of you who don't know, this
is the group that features Chuck D, as seen on the 'Godfathers & Sons'
film in the Scorsese 'Blues' series hanging out
with Marshall Chess. Like most of the crowd, Chuck's
put on a bit of weight since the photos's for the cover of 1988's 'It
Takes Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back' were taken, but he's
still there in full, forceful, effect. Watching him made me think
of the quiet power of Muddy Waters amongst all
the rock shenanigins in 'The Last Waltz'. Flavor Flav's
still checking what time it is on his now even more enormous chest
clock and looking like a late period Miles Davis.
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More
('silly') rabbit than Chas n' Dave... |
Along
with the full crew, including S1W's and band, they're still angry,
still clever and still rockin' the great beats. Assisted by a genuinely
knee trembling sound system they came on strong right from the start
and we had all the big ones from the past as well as some newer
material. I'll spare the Bluesinlondon reader too much detail, except
to say that at one point, Chuck himself acknowledged the hip hop/blues
connection, name checking blues greats while introducing the undoubtedly
terrific band.
Now, if you think hip hop's all about bling and gangsta's and bitches
and ho's, then I'd urge you to think again. Hip hop and the blues
come from the same place, and the thing that connected you to the
blues is the same thing that will connect you to hip hop. You could
do worse than start with Public Enemy.
Peace.
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