29.01.2015 Views

Download - Downbeat

Download - Downbeat

Download - Downbeat

SHOW MORE
SHOW LESS

You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles

YUMPU automatically turns print PDFs into web optimized ePapers that Google loves.

The original idea for this story<br />

involved walking Pinetop<br />

Perkins from his hotel in<br />

Chicago’s South Loop to the nearby<br />

Buddy Guy’s Legends blues club,<br />

where he would sit at the piano and<br />

explain a few patented moves. That<br />

didn’t happen. Not that Perkins is lazy,<br />

or uninterested in revisiting his favorite<br />

blues and boogie-woogie standards. He<br />

regularly works the international blues<br />

festival circuit and at home in Austin,<br />

Texas, Perkins plays, sells his CDs or<br />

sits among dozens of adoring young<br />

fans every night at clubs like Antone’s.<br />

It’s just that at 95 years old, Perkins does<br />

whatever he wants. For about an hour this past<br />

June, that meant sitting near his hotel pool where<br />

he drank big cups of sweetened coffee, smoked<br />

menthol cigarettes and kept his eyes open in<br />

case a woman in a bathing suit should happen to<br />

walk by. As one dove into the pool, he turned<br />

and muttered, “I look at ’em, talk to ’em and<br />

that’s about it.”<br />

Aside from that supposed physical limitation,<br />

Perkins would make for quite a date. He’s been<br />

playing piano (and, early on, guitar) behind<br />

some of the biggest names in blues history.<br />

Indirectly, Perkins inspired rock ’n’ roll. At an<br />

age when most people consider retirement, he<br />

started his solo recording career about 20 years<br />

ago. This doesn’t include the multitude of<br />

picaresque adventures, alongside ups, downs<br />

and a few near fatal incidents that took him from<br />

the early 20th century South to Chicago and<br />

back down South again as a new century began.<br />

Still, Perkins didn’t say all that much about<br />

any of this as he sat by the pool. Not that he<br />

can’t talk. “He clams up around the press, but<br />

riding in the van you can’t get Pine to shut up,”<br />

said his longtime bassist Bob Stroger.<br />

Maybe for the laconic blues hero an interview<br />

is like a performance: Sparse words are<br />

supposed to convey as much as minimal tones.<br />

“Pinetop plays few notes, but it’s all about<br />

where he puts them,” said pianist Barrelhouse<br />

Chuck (a.k.a. Charles Goering), who has been<br />

his friend for more than 30 years. “I heard him<br />

play with lots of different bands, and when he<br />

was younger, the way he got behind and backed<br />

the band was incredible. His rhythm, where he<br />

put all those notes to bring the band to a certain<br />

level.”<br />

Nowadays, Perkins’ groups are usually made<br />

MAN<br />

OF FEW<br />

NOTES<br />

Pinetop Perkins’ Instinctive<br />

Playing Still Defines Blues Piano<br />

By Aaron Cohen<br />

up of longtime friends and rotating guests.<br />

Drummer Willie “Big Eyes” Smith worked with<br />

Perkins throughout much of the 1970s in Muddy<br />

Waters’ band, and Stroger has performed with<br />

the pianist since he went on his own in the early<br />

’80s. They form the backbone of much of this<br />

year’s Pinetop Perkins And Friends (Telarc),<br />

which includes guest appearances from B.B.<br />

King and Eric Clapton, as well as younger musicians<br />

like singer Nora Jean Brusco.<br />

“He knows what to do instinctively,” Smith<br />

said. “Pinetop’s been doing that his whole life<br />

and will be doing that on his dying bed. He’s<br />

slower than he was, but the instinct is still there.<br />

He knows what he’s supposed to do.”<br />

Peter Carlson’s 2007 documentary, Born In<br />

The Honey: The Pinetop Perkins Story, delves<br />

into the roots of these instincts: his birth (as Joe<br />

Willie Perkins) on the Honey Island Plantation<br />

of Belzoni, Miss., to pulling cotton and playing<br />

music in the state’s juke joints and the Sanctified<br />

church. To this day, Perkins grapples with the<br />

decision he made to follow a secular path.<br />

“I pray to the Lord, ‘Please forgive me for<br />

the stuff I’m doing,’” Perkins said as he turned<br />

away from the pool. “I’m trying to make a dollar<br />

and I hope He listens to me. The Lord don’t like<br />

that bluesy stuff, but I ask him to forgive me for<br />

it. I’m trying to make people happy to make a<br />

Photo by Jack Vartoogian<br />

dollar, because it’s all I know how to do. I didn’t<br />

do any schooling to get a good job.”<br />

The seminal blues musicians who Perkins<br />

encountered throughout Mississippi offered<br />

Perkins a different kind of education. He’d work<br />

with two of them—Robert Nighthawk and Earl<br />

Hooker—for years afterwards. The boogie-woogie<br />

pianist Pinetop Smith permanently lent his<br />

style, as well as his nickname, to the younger<br />

musician. Perkins also absorbed enough to teach<br />

piano to a young Ike Turner. After Nighthawk<br />

left the state for Helena, Ark., to perform on the<br />

“King Biscuit Time” radio program in 1943, he<br />

invited Perkins to join him.<br />

Perkins built his early reputation playing in<br />

town on the radio behind Sonny Boy<br />

Williamson. At some point in the early ’40s, his<br />

career—and possibly, his life—almost ended<br />

when a drunken woman slashed the tendons in<br />

his left arm (she mistakenly thought he locked<br />

her in a bathroom). Although that happened<br />

more than 60 years ago, Perkins continues to<br />

mention the incident in regretful tones as if it<br />

happened last month.<br />

“I can’t play boogie-woogie like I used to<br />

since that woman stabbed me in the arm,”<br />

Perkins said. “I can’t play with my left hand like<br />

I used to. I can’t play bass like I used to. I play<br />

behind the bass now. I used to play a lot of gui-<br />

September 2008 DOWNBEAT 53

Hooray! Your file is uploaded and ready to be published.

Saved successfully!

Ooh no, something went wrong!