I heard blues records earlier than I can remember. My dad had Sonny Terry & Brownie McGhee albums, and a family friend had records by Lead Belly and Jesse Fuller. It was the Folk Boom of the mid/late ’50s, and blues was mixed in with commercial stuff like the Kingston Trio, so the acoustic, rural variety was termed “folk blues.” That even carried over to electric blues, like the American Folk Blues Festival tours of Europe in the ’60s and a raw, live Argo album called Folk Festival Of The Blues, featuring Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, Buddy Guy, and Sonny Boy Williamson – a far cry from folk.
My introduction to singer/guitarist John Hammond was on the Blues At Newport compilation recorded at the 1963 Newport Folk Festival in Rhode Island. The liner notes referred to the 20-year-old as a “fair-haired, pink-cheeked collegian,” but quickly credited him with learning his lessons well.
His self-titled debut LP was released that year, followed by groundbreaking electric-ensemble albums, featuring Billy Butler, Mike Bloomfield, Charlie Musselwhite, and members of The Band. But he returned to solo performance off and on, as on the previously unreleased/45-song You’re Doin’ Fine: Blues at the Boarding House, June 2 & 3, 1973.
Few performers of any style can summon the power that Hammond delivers all by himself. Rory Gallagher got the idea to use a hefty Sears Craftsman socket wrench for slide from him. Taking on Howlin’ Wolf and his band solo is no mean feat, but Hammond holds his own on “Wang Dang Doodle.” Unlike the easy swing of Muddy Waters’ recording of “I Can’t Be Satisfied,” Hammond’s herky-jerky take ups the intensity. Billy Boy Arnold’s “I Wish You Would” sounds like a whole band, but it’s just Hammond’s voice, guitar, harmonica, and foot.
Son of the famous record producer of the same name, the blues singer sometimes goes by John Paul Hammond or John Hammond, Jr. But with 40 albums under his belt, he escaped his dad’s shadow decades ago.
Courtesy of San Francisco underground stations KMPX and KSAN, I heard the then-unavailable homemade 1964 “Typewriter Tapes” of Janis Joplin backed by Jorma Kaukonen with his then-wife typing in the background – a fascinating window into their pre-Big Brother and Airplane days. Even more illuminating, Reno Road consists of Kaukonen’s early attempts at the Gary Davis style he learned from obscure legend Ian Buchanan. Taped by his lifelong bandmate, Jefferson Airplane and Hot Tuna bassist Jack Casady, its 23 tracks date to 1960, with 19-year-old Kaukonen showing almost as much facility as later served him as the prototypical psychedelic guitarist.
The repertoire mirrors Davis and contemporaries like Dave Van Ronk and Tom Paley – “Candy Man,” “Death Don’t Have No Mercy,” “That’ll Never Happen No More.” Jorma’s singing register is probably higher than he can reach now; happily, at 84 he’s still making great music. Hot Tuna’s electric tours have been retired, but he and Casady still hit the road acoustically. One can now wonder if a tape of their teen instrumental combo, the Triumphs, will surface someday. Meanwhile, Reno Road is an unexpected treat for fans of his various incarnations.
It’s easy to see why Jontavious Willis has received praise from Taj Mahal. Following Spectacular Class, produced by Keb’ Mo’ and nominated for a Grammy (Delbert McClinton took home the trophy), the singer/guitarist rolls on with West Georgia Blues. Its 15 originals demonstrate authority and versatility of the 28-year-old Georgia native. His slide shadowing the vocal on “Too Close To The Finishing Line” recalls Robert Johnson, and guitarist Jon Atkinson guests on “A Lift Is All I Need.” “Time Brings About A Change” is still and reflective, while “Jontavius’ West Georgia Grind” is a raucous instrumental featuring drums, piano, and distorted electric guitar – the kind of thing sure to get people up dancing at a juke joint.
At Austin’s recent East Side Kings Festival, I caught a set by Harrell “Young Rell” Davenport. Besides guitar, harmonica, and vocals, he impressed with his stage presence. By the time you read this, his debut album will hopefully be out. New artists like him and Willis provide assurance that the blues is in good hands.
Postscript
The first time I interviewed John Hammond was in ’79, for Frets magazine. He played a solo show in Santa Cruz, much like the Boarding House tapes. In tan shoes and a suit the color of vanilla ice cream, he looked so cool. We talked in the dressing room after the show until everyone was gone and the street was empty. I watched him walk to a parking lot that was empty except for his rented Cadillac. He put his steel-bodied National and Gibson flat-top in the trunk and drove off into the night. It struck me like what Robert Johnson might have done had he lived long enough – the modern equivalent of riding the blinds.
© 2024 Dan Forte; all rights reserved by the author.
This article originally appeared in VG’s February 2025 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
