The Blues Are the Truth

Buddy Guy's heart is on the South Side



In 1957, Buddy Guy, still in his teens, left his home and job in New
Orleans and went North, to Chicago, to play the blues. For three
weeks he scrounged around the South Side trying to get a gig, trying
to get someone to listen to him play. Finally someone agreed to give
him a chance. After listening to Buddy play, he offered him a drink.
Buddy hadn't eaten in two days and all he wanted was a meal, so the
man bought him some food and then carried his amplifier and guitar
down to the 708 Club and had Buddy play for the owner. He was hired
for $25 a night. That was an awful lot of money right then and Buddy
didn't argue. He had made it.

He was an immediate hit and started gigging regularly around the
South Side clubs, from 62nd & Cottage Grove to Sylvio's to Theresa's
where he first hooked up with Junior Wells. Although he never
formally became a part of Junior's band, Buddy played with Wells'
group on weekends at Theresa's long enough to establish himself as
the prime candidate to suceed the immoral B. B. King.

Buddy's recording career began, like so many other blues performers,
at Chess Records; Leonard Chess originally signed Buddy as a soul
singer not long after turning him down at his initial audition as a
guitarist.

It was because of his Chess contract that Buddy never gained true
recognition for his many recordings as a sideman on other labels.
Either he was never mentioned on the record sleeve at all, or, as on
the Delmark Junior Wells series, he was listed as "Friendly Chap."
Since his contract with Chess expired he's been free to use his real
name, and, since signing with Vanguard, has recorded an album of his
own, A Man and the Blues, and two with Junior Wells, for Vanguard.

Buddy's musical indoctrination came at the hands of Texas-Louisiana
blues pickers Lightnin' Hopkins, Mance Lipscomb and John Lee Hooker.
In fact, it's Buddy's ambition to do a solo gig with acoustic flat-
top guitar, singing just country songs. He's always dug jazz as
well -- many of his licks are obviously jazz-influenced -- and he
does some Grant Green-George Benson fingering on a few of his
numbers.

Since he started working regularly on the road with his own group,
which includes saxophonist A. C. Reed, Jimmy's brother, Buddy has
had to extend his repertoire to R&B.

"The people expect more than just the same old slow blues. We've got
to give it to them," Buddy admits. So his band does "Knock On Wood"
and a few Wilson Pickett and James Brown numbers.

But he's a serious blues musician and he's written some beautiful
songs. "The blues are the truth," he says. "One time a friend of
mien was recording in Chicago and got so carried away he repeated
the line 'Keep on lovin' me Kathy' over and over again. Kathy was
his girlfriend's name. The trouble came when his wife heard the
record and asked him who was he talkin' about? He didn't remember
he'd ever done it but there was nothing he could do. She had him.
She knew what he sang was the truth.

"When I was eighteen there was a woman about thirty years old who
wanted to divorce her husband and marry me. I didn't want any part
of it. I told her so and wrote a song that went 'Woman, you must be
crazy/or out of your mind.' The blues is the truth. You'd better
believe that what they're telling you is the truth."

Though he's still in his twenties, Buddy's had a great deal of
experience. The first time B.B. King heard him play he made him come
up on stage during his own set. Instead of being content to back B.
B. up, Buddy upstaged him by going through all of B. B.'s original
licks note for note. The crowd loved it and B. B. had nothing but
praise for him. Buddy was the first one he asked to play with him
during a recent date at The Showcase, an R&B Club, in Oakland.

Mostly quiet and soft-spoken off-stage, Buddy's stage appearance is
one of strength and confidence. He is definitely "the leader" when
performing. "I carry the band," he says. "I make them get up and go.

"Some nights I can't get anything out of them and I've just gotta
keep pushin' 'em harder. But when they've got it on, there's no one
can do it any better."

Buddy and his band are into the blues constantly. "We don't do any
rehearsin'. We just get up there and play. We don't need much time
to get together. We've all been there before."

Buddy still loves Chicago the most and feels that performing in the
bars on the South Side is where the blues is really at. "Playing at
the Fillmore or Carousel, or at colleges around the country is
great," he says, "the kids give you a good feeling, you get
something special and different from them, but you know there's a
guy sitting in that bar just waiting for a blues. He doesn't care if
he has to wait all night for only one real old blues he's heard
hundreds of times before. It's just the way he feels. And when you
give it to him the blues are where they belong. The blues are at
home."

He enjoys Clapton, Bloomfield, Bishop and some of the other young
white blues guitarists, but "the best young player I've seen yet,"
he claims, "is a twelve-year-old kid in Philadelphia who came up to
my hotel room and laid down all of Jimi Hendrix's moves faster than
Hendrix himself.

"Eric Clapton tried to talk me into using one of those big, powerful
Sunn amps to get more sound. But I don't care how loud I play. I
still like to stand behind the amplifier when I play and I couldn't
do that with one of those huge ones, the people wouldn't be able to
see me."

He feels kids' heads today are in a better place than ever before
and he's sure the racial situation can't help but improve. "Just so
long as they keep sellin' that grass," he says.

Buddy believes he plays best in person so he's cutting an album live
at the New Orleans House in Berkeley. He agrees with Clapton
that "working in a studio doesn't inspire you to cut loose and top
what you've done before."

Buddy's good looks have always attracted a large female audience.
He's trim and like most of the older city bluesmen, he dresses well,
but not flamboyantly.

"I dig those fancy clothes. I like to wear 'em myself. But it's not
necessary to my music. They've gotta dig what I play, not what I
wear when I play."

He says "there are three women who follow Junior and me around from
club to club whenever we play in Chicago. They're always there with
a couple of bottles of scotch. They just love to hear us play the
blues."



BARRY GIFFORD
(Posted Sep 28, 1968)