Other Aspects Names First Winner of its Zebedee Award: the Greatest Guitarist All Should Know

Some artists are so far ahead of their time that the world isn’t ready for their genius. Some are their own worst enemies. Others are simply unlucky. Racism can raise its ugly head. Sometimes it’s a combination of factors. Whatever the cause, though, too many truly great musicians live, create, and die in relative obscurity.

One goal of this blog is to shine a light on musicians who are not as known or appreciated as they should be. There are at least two reasons. (1) The musicians deserve wider recognition, usually both for their brilliance and their importance as artists. (2) Listeners deserve to have their lives enriched by hearing them.

Henceforth, Other Aspects will recognize special, underappreciated musicians with its soon-to-be-coveted Zebedee Award (the “Zeb”, for short).

The first Zeb goes to the blues guitarist after whom it is named: Earl Zebedee Hooker. If you’ve never heard of him, do yourself a favor and dig in. If you play the guitar, or love listening to someone who really can, you are in for a treat.

Guitar Wizard

Virtuosity

Whatever one’s favorite manifestation of virtuosity on the guitar – sheer speed, tone, swing, timing, taste, or inventive improvisation – it’s in ample supply with Hooker. From exhilarating single-note runs to impeccable accompaniment, delights come at the listener from all angles, no matter the setting or the song.

That taste element is worth emphasizing. With his chops, it must have been tempting to use everything in his arsenal to just blister any musician around him. That never happens. Whether leader or sideman on a given date, Earl made everything being played and everyone around him better – even as he dazzled. He also made it seem easy.

Versatility

Hooker was a bluesman through and through, but there seems nothing he couldn’t play, and well. On the list of the great Blues guitarists, no one can match Earl’s amazing versatility. Jazz, rock, country and western –all could be featured in improvised bursts or sustained throughout a piece. That last genre is neither a misprint nor just thrown onto the list, by the way. If the Blues scene were slow, Earl Hooker would just gig with a band playing (as the joke goes) country OR western.

Bottleneck/Slide

Like all other guitarists, Earl was influenced by T-Bone Walker and B.B. King. Unlike many of his generation, though, B.B. was not his principal mentor. That distinction goes to the much less famous Robert Nighthawk, especially with regard to bottlenecking. As country blues morphed into urban, the technique of bottlenecking wasn’t dropped, but changed.

Metal slides replaced broken or sawed off necks of glass bottles on the finger, but the big change was the eerie sustain possible with electrical amplification. Muddy Waters and Elmore James created unmistakably personal sounds with the slide, even while bringing the essence of masters like Blind Willie Johnson, Son House, and Robert Johnson to the city.

Nighthawk, an interesting character in his own right, seems to have created a lithe approach more out of Tampa Red’s influence. He certainly took the young Earl Hooker under his wing; Hooker’s talent and skill would take Nighthawk’s approach to unimagined heights. One key was the use of a smaller slide to allow rapid alternating between it and regular fretting – even within the same note. While Elmore often created his majestic sound by sliding chords, Earl was just as inclined to use it on individual notes.

Other Devices

No purist he, Hooker was on the cutting edge of technical advances as they became available. Echo, delay, and especially the wah-wah pedal were eagerly embraced. As much as Earl loved his gizmos, though, he insisted they be musical instruments- not just gimmicks. He demanded of himself both mastery and integration of the toys into his approach to music before subjecting the public to the new sound. Once mastered, though, each tool was instantly available to Hooker.

Vocalist

Earl Hooker as a singer is an oddly complicated topic. The easy facts to relate are that he didn’t sing much, and the lack of vocals almost certainly were an impediment to stardom. Some say he couldn’t sing, yet there are recorded examples that range from effective to rather good.

So, is it that Earl couldn’t, or simply didn’t, sing much? The topic is addressed in Danchin’s biography, and it does seem that Hooker both did not like to sing and simply loved to play guitar – his real voice. Interestingly, Hooker was remarkably adept at making his guitar sound like a human voice, even to the point of simulating words.

In an interview with the founder of Arhoolie records, Chris Strachwitz, Earl uses the word “ashamed” in reference to his singing. He seems to be referring to a lack of strength and wind, which would result from his lifelong battle with tuberculosis. Another possible factor is a trait he shared with his cousin John Lee Hooker – a fairly pronounced stutter when speaking. Though not evident in Earl’s recorded vocals, it may have contributed to his reluctance to sing.

In any event, there was no telling who besides Earl might be handling the vocal on an Earl Hooker record – from A. C. Reed, Lillian Offitt, Harold Tidwell, and Junior Wells in the earlier years to Andrew “Voice” Odom, Johnny “Big Moose” Walker. Toward the end, as we’ll see, ABC Bluesway had the good sense to have Earl play lead guitar on a series of great albums featuring well-known singers. While Earl was a better singer than he thought he was, finding singers willing to work with a guitarist of Hooker’s ability was not a problem.

Relative Obscurity

Earl Hooker’s too-short life is packed with contradictions and unique aspects; even his obscurity is unique. While true that, during his life as now, few music fans could tell you who he is, there were many small pockets of devoted fans all over the country. Those who got to see this itinerant bluesman perform live in small clubs and juke joints wouldn’t forget his electrifying performances and couldn’t wait until he got back to their town.

Earl was a superstar mainly to other musicians. Their regard for Hooker’s artistry was the impetus for a full-fledged biography, Earl Hooker, Blues Master, by Sebastian Danchin (2001, University Press of Mississippi). The Blues Music Hall of Fame named the book its 2020 Classic of Blues Literature – and deservedly so, for the exhaustive research, documentation, insights, and quality writing. The book’s subject was a 2016 HOF inductee.

If you haven’t heard Earl, but his last name sounds familiar, that is probably because of his much more famous second cousin, the iconic John Lee Hooker. One doesn’t have to be a Blues aficionado to know who he is. Before moving on from John Lee, however, let’s say this: If you know him just for his guitar boogies, you’ve missed the best parts. Go back to earlier stuff, where he was one of the essential bridges between rural and urban blues, and one of the most moving primal forces ever to sing the Blues.

Born near Clarksdale, Mississippi probably (though not certainly) on January 15, 1929, Earl Hooker moved with his parents to Chicago sometime in 1930. Thus, he was born into Jim Crow America and was part of the great migration from the Delta to the urban North.

He started playing guitar as a kid. Spectacularly disinterested in schooling, an eleven to twelve year old Earl would dodge truant officers while playing for change with his buddies on Southside street corners. One of those friends was Ellas McDaniel, later known as rock pioneer Bo Diddley. By later in his teens, he was traveling and playing all over the South and Midwest. Except as limited by the tuberculosis that eventually would take him, Earl Hooker was the urban version of the itinerant bluesman for the rest of his life.

Character-and-a-Half

Playing For the Door

Those who knew Earl loved him, except when they wanted to kill him. Hooker was a piece of work, alright, and in several different, exasperating ways. While very few could stay mad at him indefinitely, there can be little doubt that Hooker’s eccentricities and flaws hurt him over the long haul.

Of course, the life of an itinerant musician, especially a Black blues man in the ‘50s and ‘60s, was no walk in the park under the best circumstances. A favorite story in Danchin’s biography involves the common practice of a traveling band “playing for the door”. This meant the club made what it could on food and drink, while the band got paid what was collected at the entrance door in cover charges. In the Social-Darwinism world of the music circuit, club owners had every incentive to understate the cover charges collected.

One night, after playing to a packed house all night in Lake Charles, Louisiana, the owner told Earl he didn’t have much coming. When Earl told him he had seen the SRO crowd in the club, the owner dismissed him with “You were playing for the door, and this is all we got at the door.” So, Hooker and others in the band took the club’s door off its hinges and put it in their bus. “Hey, what you all doin’?!” “We just played for the door”, Hooker replied, “and now it’s mine.” More appropriate negotiations ensued.

Other Misadventures

As funny as the story is, it is no less dismaying to learn that Earl would turn around and do exactly the same thing to his sidemen. He was notorious for underpaying his band. Earl owned the band’s limo or bus and did all the driving, which made it difficult for band members to quit in the middle of a road trip. Some quit anyway and used what was left of their money (or earned some if there wasn’t enough) for bus fare home.  Apart from a few mainstays in the band who did better, there was constant turnover. Earl just recruited talented but less experienced and more naïve young talent.

Yet, Earl Hooker was also renowned for generously sharing his time and expertise with young musicians, including tips on how to play and how to cope. Earl may have brought more good young talent to Chicago, and into the Blues, than anyone.

When he recruited singers who sounded like someone with hit records, Earl encouraged them to call themselves a name reminiscent of the more famous singer. His tenor sax man Aaron Corthen sounded a lot like Jimmy Reed (dozens of hits for Vee-Jay records) when he sang. So Earl had him change his name to A. C. Reed, suggesting without saying that he was Jimmy’s younger brother. Soon there were Little [Famous Singer]s or [Famous Singer] Juniors all over the place.

Sometimes Earl had his newfound talents pretend to actually be the star. Once singer Ricky Allen, who had had a few hits with Earl, booked a gig only to learn he was competing with himself. Hooker was playing right down the street featuring singer “Ricky Allen”.

The book mentions another bad habit, previously unknown to me, that undoubtedly hurt Hooker over time: helping himself to stuff, including equipment. If a club owner notices a microphone missing after you’ve played, how likely is he to book you in the future?

As for the women and children in his life: Let’s just say Earl’s funeral was chaotic, adding to the distress of Bertha, Earl’s wife of seven years. Bertha, whose favorable portrayal in Danchin’s bio rings true, maintained her Catron home in southern Missouri. It was Earl’s other home base, but his legal residence remained his mother’s place in Chicago. Yet, whatever his ramblings had been, Earl was a loving, caring and generous husband to Bertha and her two children from a previous marriage – when he was there.

Recordings

The quantity is not what it should have been, but Earl took care of the quality. It’s helpful to divide Hooker’s recording career into three segments.

The first, consisting of most of his career from the Fifties into the early Sixties, saw sporadic recording of singles on small labels like King, Argo, States, Bea & Baby, Chief, Age, and Mel-Lon. The last three of these labels were owned and run by Mel London.

Acting on a tip from Buddy Guy that Hooker was the Chicago guitarist to record next, Chris Strachwitz signed Earl on the spot for his Arhoolie label after seeing him at the White Rose in Chicago on November 9, 1968. The resulting records are the second segment.

A third phase of Hooker’s recording career came about when cousin John Lee used Earl’s group as his band for a few engagements in California and then a recording session for ABC Bluesway. Producer Ed Michel quickly signed Earl for future recordings.

Early Stuff/Mel London

Most of Earl’s best early stuff was done for Mel London. He was a musician and talented song-writer (Junior Wells’ first two hits “Little By Little” and “Messin’ With the Kid”). That, combined with decency and attention to detail, allowed Earl to flourish. Classic instrumentals like “Blue Guitar”, “Universal Rock”, “Blues in D Natural” and “Rockin’ Wild” will be featured in any compilation of this material one can find.

Then there’s the soaring “Calling All Blues”, one of the masterpieces of instrumental blues. Earl’s slide guitar and Junior Wells’ chromatic harmonica push each other to astounding heights. (Yes, Junior did go from one of the all-time great guitarists, Earl, to another, Buddy Guy. See the 5/10/20 post “Dynamic Musical Duos”.)

Some of the singles feature fine vocals by saxophonist A. C. Reed (“This Little Voice”, “Lotta Lovin’”), drummer Harold Tidwell (“Swear to Tell the Truth” also featuring Big Moose Walker’s early electric piano), and Lillian Offitt (“Oh Mama”, “Will My Man Be Home Tonight”). That last is notable for two things: (1) Offitt’s vocal includes an ill-advised (to these  ears) crying sequence that manages not to ruin a good song; and (2) The tune’s melody became a favorite warm-up instrumental, called “I Wonder Why”, for other great guitarists like Otis Rush.

The instrumental “Blue Guitar” later became a vocal when Muddy Waters took the entire performance and dubbed a vocal, “You Shook Me”, over it. There are a few oddities in the early stuff, like” Apache War Dance” and “Galloping Horses, A Lazy Mule”, but even these are salvaged somewhat by Earl’s guitar.

Arhoolie

There were three LPs – Two Bugs and a Roach, Hooker And Steve, and Earl Hooker, His First and Last Recordings. They more-or-less became two CDs – Two Bugs and a Roach, with some of his first recordings added and The Moon Is Rising, which is the Hooker And Steve LP, with some of his last recordings. The recommendation here is for both CDs.

The first Arhoolie, Two Bugs and a Roach, is essential, the album to get if you’re only getting one. The CD features three (!) very good vocals by Earl: his superb redo of Robert Blackhawk’s “Anna Lee”, “You Don’t Want Me”, and an early “I’m Going Down the Line” from 1953. Other highlights include the title track (discussed below), harmonica great Carey Bell’s first appearance on record, a vocal by Andrew Odom, and the steel guitar of Fred Roulette, (blending beautifully with Earl’s guitar stylings).

Then there’s “Wah Wah Blues” – masterful almost beyond description, it is the epitome of turning what could be a gimmick into beautiful music. Jimi Hendrix took the pedal in a different direction to enormous success, but there can be little doubt where his inspiration arose.

The second Arhoolie starts with another lengthy cover of a Blackhawk number that gives the CD its name; it’s nearly as good as “Anna Lee”. While still mostly quite good, the LP is no match for Two Bugs and a Roach, but the CD The Moon Is Rising is hugely enhanced by the add-ons. These consist of four improvisations by Earl recorded live by Hooker’s friend Dick Shurman in Chicago clubs – “Dust My Broom”, “Frosty”, “Can’t Hold Out Much Longer”, and “Swingin’ at Theresa’s”. This is the closest we will ever come to experiencing Earl Hooker in the setting he loved best: just playing for the people in a club he liked. It’s tempting to put these cuts on continuous loop and listen indefinitely.

The ABC Bluesway Series

Thank goodness John Lee Hooker brought Earl and his guys to the recording session. Understandably delighted with the album featuring the Hooker cousins, If You Miss ‘Im…I Got ‘Im, producer Ed Michel signed Earl and the band. It turned into a marvelous series of six more albums featuring Earl:

1. Earl Hooker, Don’t Have To Worry (recorded same day as John Lee’s album, 5/29/69)
2. Andrew “Voice” Odom, Farther On Down The Road (6/4/69)
3. Johnny Big Moose Walker, Rambling Woman (6/9/69)
4. Jimmy Witherspoon, Hunh! (9/15/69)
5. Charles Brown, Legend (9/16/69)
6. Brownie McGhee & Sonny Terry with Earl Hooker, I Couldn’t Believe My Eyes (9/24/69)

So, the first three headlined Earl and two of his band members, who were also two of his best friends and collaborators over the years. The last three had Earl playing lead guitar for world-famous Blues singers with good supporting casts. Earl is superb on all. Any fan of Witherspoon, Brown, or Sonny & Brownie must hear albums 4, 5, and 6 respectively. They, along with albums 1 and 2 and the John Lee are recommended without reservation.

There are two aspects of Walker’s album #3 worth mentioning. Terrific over the years on both piano and organ, Big Moose’s vocals are, to me, uneven. With the right vehicle (“Would You Baby”), he’s effective. Otherwise, it seems a reach.  The record’s other acquired taste is Otis Hale’s tenor sax. It is electrified, with a wah-wah pedal that is used incessantly. Though fun in spots, sublime it is not.

Here are a few thoughts on the other albums. #1 would be another good place to start exploring Earl Hooker, with two good vocals by Earl, three by Odom, and great instrumentals, including a “Universal Rock” even better than the original. #5’s critical acclaim was richly deserved. Re-creations of Charles Brown’s classics “Drifting Blues”, Black Night”, and “Merry Christmas Baby” are the highlights. Andrew Odom was nobody’s junior as a fine blues singer, as #2 attests, even if Hooker called him “B.B. King, Jr.”  Earl is incredible supporting his favorite singer, including one of the best versions ever of T-Bone Walker’s anthem, “Stormy Monday”.

Finally, there’s #6, Earl’s last studio recording. From the bio, Ed Michel and Danchin apparently both considered the pairing of Terry and McGhee with urban bluesmen disappointing – “the mixing of these various ingredients sounds pointless because the musicians fail to adjust themselves to the situation” (p. 300). I couldn’t disagree more. It’s a wonderful album, well worthy of anyone’s attention. The playing, the singing, and the songs themselves are all top-notch. A few of the songs, including the title track and “Tell Me Why”, are sadly and startlingly relevant to this day.

Video

There is very little video of Earl Hooker, unfortunately. What little exists all seems to come from the American Folk Blues Festival tour in 1969. This is Volume 2 of a DVD series, all of which is priceless for capturing blues legends performing for appreciative European audiences in the ‘60s. Earl’s individual on-stage performances are limited to two instrumentals. Backstage snippets, including him entertaining the entourage with Ernest Tubbs’ “Walking The Floor Over You”, give a glimpse of Earl’s persona.

That TB Bug

One should not have to die of TB in 1970, but Earl Hooker did. Whether he simply wouldn’t or just couldn’t, Earl Hooker certainly didn’t take care of himself. He traveled, worked, and played himself to exhaustion – stopping only when he had to be admitted to the hospital. Then he’d leave medical care too soon and start the cycle all over again.

In addition to Earl’s typically stellar playing, the title track from Two Bugs and a Roach features a spoken interplay between Hooker and Andrew “Voice” Odom. Odom opens, asking Earl where he’s been so long. 1919 West Taylor, Hooker replies, giving the State TB Hospital’s address where he’d been confined for months. He’d been messing around with Dr. Newhouse; he had to get rid of that TB Bug. How’d he do that? By hittin’ it something like this! Then Earl launches into a rip roaring guitar solo.

The humor in this exchange is more literally of a “whistling past the graveyard” nature than anyone would have wanted for Earl. He played, and lived, like someone well aware of how finite one’s life is. It was recorded on November 16, 1968; TB took Earl Hooker on April 21, 1970. He did indeed attack life’s difficulties by hitting it on his guitar.

Coda

Without Mel London, Chris Strachwitz, and Ed Michel, we’d have little but stories to celebrate. Thanks to them, we get to revel in a singular man’s gifts. At one time or another, a very long list of the greatest guitarists has called Earl Hooker the best electric guitarist of his generation, or ever. Enjoy!

In a season for the blessings of Hope and aspirations for Peace that is darker than usual, there’s this: Amid our faults, limitations and idiosyncrasies, the glory is in the striving. Whatever unique gifts and flaws are ours, how special what’s possible can be.

Ken Bossong

© 2020 Kenneth J. Bossong