I’m not a musician. I can’t keep a decent beat when I clap along. Throughout my life, I haven’t been an avid listener, either. I’ve enjoyed lots of music but often couldn’t tell you who sang a song or even the title.

Then, the pandemic hit and I found a new hobby of listening to YouTube songs, especially reactions to ones I’ve enjoyed. Through this, I realized I love the blues. And while I like the modern singers, I’m captivated by the early ones.

Those tinny, scratchy recordings that echo through the years. The hollow voices are rife with deep emotion we call soul. I can’t adequately put it into words, but the music feels important. When I listen, at a basic level, I feel I’m exploring the human condition.

Recently, my husband and I traveled to Memphis, then down Mississippi’s Blues Highway to Clarksdale, home of the Delta Blues Museum. Well worth the effort to get to this small, impoverished town that gave rise to an unexpected number of great musicians.

One was Son House who, early in life, claimed to be “churchified.” Starting out as a preacher, he later gave that up and transferred the passion he radiated from the pulpit to singing and playing the slide guitar. He soon became prominent on the blues circuit.

Around 1930, Son House came across a nineteen-year-old named Robert Johnson who could play the Jew’s harp. Son later said, “I think it was in Robinsonville I met him. I got friendly with his mother and father, and he was blowing Jew’s harp. Why then he could blow the pants off just about anyone, but he wanted to play guitar.”

Son House claimed he made “such a racket you never heard!…get that guitar away from that boy.” He was so awful, everyone begged him to stop. Young Robert reportedly took off for parts unknown. In time, he showed up again. Son asked him if he’d remembered anything of the guitar.

“He showed us something and we didn’t believe what we saw. I said to old Bill, ‘That boy’s good’.”

So good, Son reportedly said, “He sold his soul to the devil to get to play like that.”

And the legend was born. It’s said that Robert Johnson was down on his luck at the Clarksdale crossroads. A stranger offered to tune his guitar, which Johnson allowed. Turns out the stranger was the Prince of Darkness himself, who offered him uncommon talent for his soul. To the minds of many, that deal allowed Robert Johnson to become the best blues guitarist of all time.

His music influenced country music, gospel, rhythm and blues, and eventually, rock and roll. The symbol of crossroads resounds through all those traditions.

Robert Johnson traveled much throughout his short career, setting crowds on fire. His recording opportunities spanned only seven months, leaving us with “Sweet Home Chicago”, “Walking Blues”, and “Crossroads Blues”.

He had a love of wine and women, however, that may have led to his downfall. According to Son House, “But Robert was too quick to get excited and he’d believe everything the girls say; they’d be sayin’ things to him and he’d be thinkin’ they was meanin’ it; but we told him they didn’t mean no good and he went and got killed on the levee camp.”

There is much conjecture about the premature death of Robert. At the age of twenty-seven, he may well have died from poisoning. Playing at a place called Three Forks, he messed with a married woman. Her husband slipped some stuff called naphthalin in Johnson’s drink. Apparently, it was made from mothballs and used to calm rowdies in bars. It’s possible the husband just wanted to sicken Robert. But the singer had an ulcer. Under those circumstances, the potion became deadly.

There’s that. Then, his death certificate claims syphilis as the cause.

Or was it something more odious? Had the Devil returned to collect his due?

Early this morning

When you knocked upon my door

Early this morning ooh

When you knocked upon my door

And I said, “Hello Satan”

“I believe it’s time to go”

            Robert Johnson, “Me and the Devil Blues”

A little fun from the article “Writing and Singing the Blues: Some Guidelines (Funny Stuff)” per Dr. Rock. Read the entire piece at https://www.aggh.net/discussion/index.php?topic=28445.0. It’s hilarious!

Make your own Blues Name Starter Kit:

 a. name of physical infirmity (Blind, Cripple, Lame, etc.)

 b. first name (see above) plus name of fruit (Lemon, Lime, Melon, Kiwi, etc.)

c. last name of President (Jefferson, Johnson, Fillmore, etc.)

For example: Blind Lime Jefferson, Jackleg Lemon Johnson or Cripple Kiwi Fillmore, etc. (Well, maybe not “Kiwi.”)

Note: Persons with names like Michelle, Amber, Debbie, and Heather can’t sing the Blues no matter how many men they shoot in Memphis.

List your new name in the comments!

Works Cited

“Clarksdale Crossroads.” Atlas Obscura, http://www.atlasobscura.com/places/clarksdale-crossroads. Accessed 30 June 2024.

DrRock. “Writing and Singing the Blues: Some Guidelines (Funny Stuff).” Aussie Guitar Gear Heads, 22 May 2011, http://www.aggh.net/discussion/index.php?topic=28445.0. Accessed 30 June 2024.

Gilbert, Jerry. “Unravelling the Legend of Robert Johnson.” TeachRock, 1971, teachrock.org/article/unravelling-the-legend-of-robert-johnson/#:~:text=Son%20House%20met%20Johnson%20in. Accessed 30 June 2024.

O’Malley, Sheila. ““He Sold His Soul to the Devil to Get to Play like That.” – Mississippi Bluesman Son House on Robert Johnson | the Sheila Variations.” The Sheila Variations, 8 May 2024, http://www.sheilaomalley.com/?p=137166#:~:text=Sophie%20Scholl%20%E2%86%92-. Accessed 30 June 2024.

“Son House.” Wikipedia, 18 Feb. 2020, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Son_House.

Taub, Matthew. “The Not-So-Mysterious Missing Grave of Blues Legend Robert Johnson.” Atlas Obscura, 23 Oct. 2019, http://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/where-is-robert-johnson-buried.

Wikipedia Contributors. “Robert Johnson.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 17 Feb. 2019, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Johnson.