"You See Me Laughin'" Blues Documentary
Posted: June 27, 2005 4:14 pm
I had the good fortune to see Cedell Davis (one of the bluesmen who is the subject of the documentary below) a few years back who is a rare treat in today's music environment when so many artists rely so heavily on modern technology and recording techniques.
From Creem Magazine.com:
http://www.creemmagazine.com/BeatGoesOn ... n0506.html
You See Me Laughin'
The Last Of The Hill Country Bluesmen [DVD]
Fat Possum
In this rich travelogue we are treated to a rare glimpse into a far-removed and isolated area of the United States: rural Mississippi. Barbeque smoke seems to waft through all the exterior shots and every pick-up truck has a gun rack as standard equipment.
This is the land that produced the majority of our most vital singers and musicians over the past century. We now know this living phenomenon continued long after the familiar names had moved north to achieve their legend on a global scale.
Almost like wildcatters, the partners of Fat Possum records discovered this local reserve teeming right under their young, white noses. They developed cooperative business relationships with these musicians, now in their '50s and '60s and still playing jukes and house parties.
"I don't want my guys to die unknown. What good does it do them if their music is discovered 10 or 15 years after their death?" says Fat Possum founder, Matthew Johnson. Along with Bruce Watson, they beg comparison to the Chess brothers a half-century earlier in Chicago in their zeal.
Race plays a prominent role in the story. Not only is the audience for these artists outside of their community white, their most famous fans and supporters are Bono and Iggy. The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion went so far as to tour and record an album with them.
There is friendly and tacit mistrust for one another. Blues musicians, like independent record companies, seem to exist in the same ethical dimension as hookers and compulsive gamblers.
"Don't give the man all of your music. Give him part of it and let him beg for the rest of it. And make him pay."
All of the men chronicled in this film are powerful artists in their own right and uniquely gifted individuals. Past brutality, violence and jail time are common themes in their lives. They all share a similar drive to play their music for themselves, with no career ambitions. They also seem to be free of any stylistic influence of the past 50 or 60 years.
R.L. Burnside is the most successful artist of the group but continues to live in the same place he grew up working the fields. He also has the most professional attitude in regard to his expanding business in music. Unlike his peers, R.L. seems comfortable and confident in the world outside north Mississippi.
The performances captured here rock with a pure and raw authority. Junior Kimbrough, in particular, is a very commanding and intense presence. His music is deep, honest and bone rattling. He was the proprietor of his namesake juke joint for 30 years where the locals played and partied every Sunday. Junior had never left Mississippi before touring with Iggy Pop.
The footage of the local music scene is so incredibly hot you can feel the humidity. You just don't see people dance like that in the city.
There is an incredible sequence that looks like a home movie from the 70's. A younger, natty R.L. Burnside is playing a wild house party along with his teenaged, white guitar-playing protégé, Kenny Brown. Afros, bell-bottoms and platform shoes; dancing and drinking, it looks like Mississippi Soul Train in somebody's mobile home.
After a series of devastating maladies, accidents and injuries, Cedell Davis was forced to modify his guitar playing, adopting a very unique, butter-knife slide technique. This man totally reinvented his whole approach over tremendous adversity. There is a horribly beautiful quality to his music. Cedell has a fabulous song in praise of fat women in Arkansas.
T-Model Ford (the Tale Dragger) is another tough guy. After somebody unexpectedly plunged a knife in his back, he chased the bastard down and slit his throat. Ford was 58 years old before he ever picked up a guitar.
Johnny Farmer had three songs in his head. He bought a guitar so he could learn to play those three songs. Instead of performing, he felt it was better to teach others how to play those songs.
You See Me Laughin' is a significant film for its cultural, as well as, anthropological value. This is where the music came from and where it continues to thrive. These men must be heard.
There is a Lost World–Land That Time Forgot reality about his saga that makes it a great counterpoint to the spoiled rock-star, wretched excess image we are continually fed. There really must be something in the water.
—Chris Silagyi
From Creem Magazine.com:
http://www.creemmagazine.com/BeatGoesOn ... n0506.html
You See Me Laughin'
The Last Of The Hill Country Bluesmen [DVD]
Fat Possum
In this rich travelogue we are treated to a rare glimpse into a far-removed and isolated area of the United States: rural Mississippi. Barbeque smoke seems to waft through all the exterior shots and every pick-up truck has a gun rack as standard equipment.
This is the land that produced the majority of our most vital singers and musicians over the past century. We now know this living phenomenon continued long after the familiar names had moved north to achieve their legend on a global scale.
Almost like wildcatters, the partners of Fat Possum records discovered this local reserve teeming right under their young, white noses. They developed cooperative business relationships with these musicians, now in their '50s and '60s and still playing jukes and house parties.
"I don't want my guys to die unknown. What good does it do them if their music is discovered 10 or 15 years after their death?" says Fat Possum founder, Matthew Johnson. Along with Bruce Watson, they beg comparison to the Chess brothers a half-century earlier in Chicago in their zeal.
Race plays a prominent role in the story. Not only is the audience for these artists outside of their community white, their most famous fans and supporters are Bono and Iggy. The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion went so far as to tour and record an album with them.
There is friendly and tacit mistrust for one another. Blues musicians, like independent record companies, seem to exist in the same ethical dimension as hookers and compulsive gamblers.
"Don't give the man all of your music. Give him part of it and let him beg for the rest of it. And make him pay."
All of the men chronicled in this film are powerful artists in their own right and uniquely gifted individuals. Past brutality, violence and jail time are common themes in their lives. They all share a similar drive to play their music for themselves, with no career ambitions. They also seem to be free of any stylistic influence of the past 50 or 60 years.
R.L. Burnside is the most successful artist of the group but continues to live in the same place he grew up working the fields. He also has the most professional attitude in regard to his expanding business in music. Unlike his peers, R.L. seems comfortable and confident in the world outside north Mississippi.
The performances captured here rock with a pure and raw authority. Junior Kimbrough, in particular, is a very commanding and intense presence. His music is deep, honest and bone rattling. He was the proprietor of his namesake juke joint for 30 years where the locals played and partied every Sunday. Junior had never left Mississippi before touring with Iggy Pop.
The footage of the local music scene is so incredibly hot you can feel the humidity. You just don't see people dance like that in the city.
There is an incredible sequence that looks like a home movie from the 70's. A younger, natty R.L. Burnside is playing a wild house party along with his teenaged, white guitar-playing protégé, Kenny Brown. Afros, bell-bottoms and platform shoes; dancing and drinking, it looks like Mississippi Soul Train in somebody's mobile home.
After a series of devastating maladies, accidents and injuries, Cedell Davis was forced to modify his guitar playing, adopting a very unique, butter-knife slide technique. This man totally reinvented his whole approach over tremendous adversity. There is a horribly beautiful quality to his music. Cedell has a fabulous song in praise of fat women in Arkansas.
T-Model Ford (the Tale Dragger) is another tough guy. After somebody unexpectedly plunged a knife in his back, he chased the bastard down and slit his throat. Ford was 58 years old before he ever picked up a guitar.
Johnny Farmer had three songs in his head. He bought a guitar so he could learn to play those three songs. Instead of performing, he felt it was better to teach others how to play those songs.
You See Me Laughin' is a significant film for its cultural, as well as, anthropological value. This is where the music came from and where it continues to thrive. These men must be heard.
There is a Lost World–Land That Time Forgot reality about his saga that makes it a great counterpoint to the spoiled rock-star, wretched excess image we are continually fed. There really must be something in the water.
—Chris Silagyi