1 AESTHETICS & AUTHENTICITY: THE ART OF AUDIO RECORDING IN THE B L U E S CANON

PASCAL LOUIS MOWLA WORD COUNT: 8,515 2 INTRODUCTION The following dissertation will seek to de-construct aesthetic notions of authenticity within audio recordings of the canon. Via the analysis of specific sound objects and prominent works within the idiom, one would hope to further understand the perceived authentic Blues ideal without the distraction of romantic Blues myth and legend. The lack of knowledge and clear facts that surround prominent Bluesmen only help to perpetuate such myth and legend. Indeed the vast majority of early Bluesmen left little trail of their existence other than a small collection of recordings and often unfounded claims. Referred to as the ‘devil’s music’ by some, the Blues has long been associated with tales of the supernatural . Among the idiom’s observers, delta Bluesman Robert Johnson is continually mythologised to have made a ‘deal with the devil’ in return for virtuosic guitar technique and is also said to possess two potential graves in the American Deep South. Due to the uncertainty and unsubstantiated claims that ensconce much of the idiom’s early pieces and their artists, audio recordings perhaps remain to be the only entry to understanding authenticity within the canon based on tangible evidence and not romantic stories. As a consequence this essay will hone in on such evidence in order to unpack any potential constructions of authenticity, whilst also seeking to asses the extent of such constructions and their validity. It is also perhaps important to note the definition of authenticity within a music recording as a perceived closeness to ‘genuine experience’, or valid cultural ties to specific locations and heritage. Through the chronological assessment of three selected artists working within the Blues canon, spanning over thirty years, I will seek to first establish how an authentic Blues ideal was constructed and then extended deep into the mid-twentieth century. The assessment of prominent Bluesman Son House within the first chapter serves to aid the de-construction of an ‘authentic’ audio recording via the analysis of musical and aesthetic traits preserved within them, as well as scrutinise the methods or processes which helped bring such audio recordings into existence. Following the trajectory of the Blues canon, advancing recording technology placed importance on hi-fidelity, creating a designer aesthetic space which offered Bluesmen a contemporary new vehicle for their music. The second chapter will examine artist Howlin’ Wolf’s body of work in relation to this topic, before moving onto evaluate how such aesthetic space opened up an entry within the idiom to all-comers. The final chapter will provide an overview of the revival of the 1960’s as bands such as rose to stardom, using many of the concrete motifs which had anchored the canon before them. As The Rolling Stones began to deviate from producing reformations of an authentic Blues ideal, the essay will also take a critical turn, seeking to evaluate their success and the resulting musical culture. 3 I: THE CREATION OF AN AUTHENTIC BLUESMAN As Blues music developed and permeated across the Mississippi Delta in the late 1800’s and early twentieth century, advancements in recording technology allowed the music of the Afro- American people who inhabited the Delta and its neighbouring areas to be captured, noted and consequently defined for the first time. Before the Blues revival was to reach mass white audiences around the globe, it could be argued that white musical archivists such as Alan Lomax or ‘race’ record labels such as Paramount helped to cement a definitive Blues idiom within the parameters of a music recording. Through the collation and cataloging of the most prodigious Blues artists, or in some cases simply those who could be found, A. Lomax and others set out on musical expeditions across the southern states of America with the aim to record what they conceived to be an authentic Blues and Afro-American sub-cultural ideal. The aesthetic attributes captured within these recordings would continue to define the boundaries of Blues music for many years to come as well as to help propagate the idea of what constituted an authentic Bluesman. This chapter will seek to analyse the musical recordings of prominent artist Eddie James ‘Son’ House Jr. (b. 1902- d.1988) over three distinct stages of his career; ranging from his discovery and first recordings made for Paramount in 1930, to his re-discovery by revivalist Al Wilson in the 1960’s. By comparing specific sound objects from these select periods within Son House’s recording career and via the assessment of the processes undertaken which resulted in their creation, one may go someway to being able to deconstruct and thus understand how the ideal of an authentic Bluesman was created almost solely through music recordings. Born on the outskirts of Clarksdale, Mississippi in 1902, Son House spent many of his formative years in Louisiana where his father played the Tuba in a marching band. Much of House’s early life was spent devoted to the church, becoming a preacher as he entered manhood (Hardy, 2001). Due to his religious belief and engagement with the church, House did not consider the Blues or even begin to play guitar until he left the church on his return to Mississippi, in his mid- twenties. He was to be influenced by the work of James McCoy, Willie Wilson and perhaps most significantly , whom he would go onto perform with (Guralnick, 1992, p.50). It is also perhaps interesting to note Son House’s self-proclaimed tutoring of renowned Blues artists Robert Johnson and (Lomax, 1993, p.16), however this essay will focus on tangible audio artefacts and not Blues mythology. Before the idea of an authentic Bluesman could be established or any Blues idiom at all, musical recordings had to be conducted (for commercial benefit or otherwise) in order to produce a less ambiguous, more concrete Blues discourse. It was through fellow Delta Blues progenitor 4 I: THE CREATION OF AN AUTHENTIC BLUESMAN Charley Patton and his relationship with white businessman H.C Speir that enabled Son House to make his first recordings for Paramount in 1930. Guralnick (1992, p.52) states that ‘Patton brought him to H.C Speir, and Speir packed them all up - Patton, House, Willie Brown, and a teenage pianist named Louise Johnson - and sent them up to Grafton, Wisconsin. There Patton did four numbers and House recorded ten titles which met with little commercial success’. Based in the North of America, record labels akin to Paramount depended on local recommendation in order to discover new artists within the field, meaning H.C Speir among other white talent scouts and archivists ultimately made the choice of which artists would be recorded and catalogued (Oliver & Smith, 2012). In doing so it could be argued that they were as significant in establishing an authentic blues ideal as the artists themselves. The selective processes undertaken by such scouts to record artists based on either future commercial viability, their accessibility or because they met a conceived romantic ideal would inevitably mean that some regional styles or artists of value were not catalogued and forgotten, consequently shaping the idea of an authentic Bluesman. ‘Preachin’ Blues Pt. 1’ (Son House, 1930) is one song originally recorded by House for Paramount in 1930 that would be revisited later in his career. Somewhat typical for the Blues discourse at the time and in similarity with Charley Patton and other contemporaries, House’s guitar and voice are in constant battle with surface noise, rendering some parts of the recording relatively inaudible. By contrast, more commercially successful recordings produced in the same year such as ‘Blue Yodel No. 9’ (Jimmie Rodgers, 1930) are of a comparatively higher fidelity. This noticeable difference in fidelity and production aesthetic becomes hugely significant when de- constructing the ideal authentic Bluesman. It could be argued that the rugged, nomadic, working class personalities as characterised via the lyrical subject matters, correlate with the dirty sounding, imperfect nature of the recordings they exist within; thus helping to propagate the idea of an authentic Bluesman. Such typical lyrical content is present in ‘Preachin’ Blues Pt. 1’ (Son House, 1930) with House singing; ‘Oh, I'm gon' get me religion, I’m gon' join the baptist church Oh, I'm gon' get me religion, I'm gon' join the baptist church I'm gon' be a baptist preacher and I sure won't have to work Oh, I'm gonna preach these blues now, and I want everybody to shout Mmm-mmm, I want everybody to shout I'm gonna do like a prisoner, I'm gon' roll my time on out 5 I: THE CREATION OF AN AUTHENTIC BLUESMAN Oh, in my room I bowed down to pray Oh, up in my room I bowed down to pray Then the blues come along and they blowed my spirit away Oh, I'd'a had religion, Lord, this very day Oh, I'd'a had religion, Lord, this very day But the womens and whiskey, well, they would not let me pray Oh, I wish I had me a heaven of my own (praise God almighty), Yeah, heaven of my own, Then I'd give all my women a long, long happy home Yeah, I love my baby just like I love myself Oh, just like I love myself But if she don't have me she won't have nobody else’

The topics broached within this piece exhibit some of the lyrical tropes present in the Blues idiom. With references to conflict between faith and Blues, imprisonment, intensive labour, acknowledgement of the spirit world and the temptations of sex and alcohol, one could state that House has gone someway to help define or propagate an authentic blues ideal through the use of such recurring lyrical topics. The aforementioned lyrical tropes found within early Blues recordings such as Houses’ ‘Preachin Blues Pt.1’ (Son House, 1930) are pertinent, as such topics became part of a common lyrical narrative within the idiom that would continue for decades. Furthermore ‘Preachin’ Blues Pt. 1’ (Son House, 1930) also features the Blues standard, three-line stanza, which Oliver (2009, p.24) defines as consisting of a repeated first line and a third rhyming line, with each three lines corresponding to the chords rooted from the first, fourth and fifth degrees of the scale respectively. This traditional stanza form which can be observed in almost all twelve-bar Blues music, further helps to cement the songs placing as definitive for the genre and therefore a forerunner in helping to establish the idea of an authentic Bluesman. House spent much of his boyhood and young manhood devoted to the Church and eventually became a preacher. Evans (1975, p.150) claims that ’this religious background may also be responsible for the impression this music gives of being the outpouring of a tortured soul’. Now considered a Blues standard, this is no more evident than within the aforementioned, religiously themed ‘Preachin Blues Pt.1’ (Son House, 1930) which perfectly exhibits the perceived ‘outpouring of a tortured soul’ through the use of vocal moans, growling and falsetto, heralding to what is now conceived to be an authentic blues ideal. 6 I: THE CREATION OF AN AUTHENTIC BLUESMAN The next time Son House would come to record would be almost by accident some eleven years later in 1941, for the Library of Congress . As Guralnick (1992, p.52) writes ‘He happened to be in Lake Cormorant when Alan Lomax passed through there on a field recording trip, and when he came back a year later Lomax took the trouble to look him up’. It was this chance meeting that would lead to the recording of fifteen songs in total for Lomax in 1941 and ’42, including a renowned adaptation of Charley Patton’s ‘Pony Blues’ (Patton, 1929). ‘Shetland Pony Blues’ (House, 1941) is another House piece, which helps to better illustrate the creation of an authentic Bluesman within the parameters of a music recording. It is important to note that ‘Shetland Pony Blues’ (House, 1941) was the only song of the session which House recorded unaccompanied; the following year all recordings conducted by Lomax of House would also be solo performances. This could correlate to Lomax’s own conception of an authentic blues ideal, as he was believed to be a ‘somewhat regressive defender of old ways and styles’ Beaumont recalls (2011, p.104). It was therefore perhaps Lomax’s influence upon House to record the songs in this fashion who viewed the six-string guitar as a ‘portable orchestra, capable of sounding several parts at once’ (Lomax, 1993, p.359). This gives further backing to the claim that archivists such as Lomax were tantamount in establishing what would later be conceived as an authentic Blues ideal. As well as the piece exhibiting some of the precursory lyrical, structural and production attributes mentioned, ‘Shetland Pony Blues’ (House, 1941) also features the sound of a steam train rolling on by (audible from one minute, eleven seconds) in the distance. Beaumont (2011, p.95) states that Lomax’s field recording equipment, ’a Presto Model Y unit, consisting of a sixteen-inch turntable, an amplifier, and a speaker, produced recordings on the spot on acetate discs’. As a consequence the sound of the steam train could only ever be considered an accidental inclusion due to the unpredictability of a modest field recording, yet still significant as an inevitable, mobile, sound object that echoed across the Mississippi Delta. The same session with Lomax also saw House re- record ‘Walking Blues’ (House, 1941), a number he had recorded years earlier for Paramount that also features the sound of a steam train roaring through the mix (audible from around two minutes). Beaumont (2011, p.101) claims ‘… Son House rolled through the song like a locomotive. And while his vocal on the Paramount version is good, on the 1941 version he sings verses with more swagger and more confidence, colouring the notes with more variety than he did in the Grafton version’. It could be argued that the audible rolling and tumbling of the steam train captured quite literally in the aforementioned recordings is a sound object that is continually referenced throughout the rhythmic patterns of uptempo songs within the idiom. Perhaps a symbol of social mobility and a 7 I: THE CREATION OF AN AUTHENTIC BLUESMAN sound artefact now synonymous with the Mississippi Delta, the sound of the steam train presented within these recordings incidentally draws an explicit link between the authentic landscape of the cradle of the Blues and House’s music. This quite literal link further helps to propagate the idea of an authentic Bluesman via a music recording through such an implicit, even if accidental reference to an authentic site-specific, sonic landscape. It was not until 1964, a whole twenty-two years on since his previous recordings made for Lomax that House would be rediscovered by white Blues enthusiasts (notably Al Wilson) and was encouraged to perform once again. Suffering from an alcohol related tremor which inhibited his ability to play the guitar as he once did, House’s vocal control remained. Despite this it was his inability to recall all the songs he once performed that would prove to be a stumbling block on his return to music (Guralnick, 1992, p.52). Al Wilson in Davis (1998, p.42) states that ‘at a short gig at the Unicorn when sober he was pathetic. When he was drunk, he a) played the best blues I have heard up to the time, on occasion, b) gave the crowd 10- minute sermons which were not only nonsensical but nearly unintelligible, and c) took as long as five minutes to tune his guitar’. It was this struggle with alcoholism, coupled with the inability to remember the catalogue of songs recorded for both Paramount and Lomax that led Al Wilson to teach Son House how to play Son House. According to Beaumont (2011, p.22) Wilson gradually became more and more involved with Son House’s performances, supposedly playing the guitar with House ‘everyday as he worked through his prewar repertoire. Wilson would have been especially helpful since his own approach to the old blues was to learn the songs note for note. For Wilson the songs were, like scripture, not to be tampered with’. Wilson’s reverence for House’s work can not be disputed, however his reasons for such reverence and bringing House back from the proverbial dead and into the limelight could be. Through musical recordings alone House had made a lasting impression upon Wilson, with Wilson perceiving House’s work to be, according to friend Evans in Davis (1998, p.41) some of the ‘very greatest, deepest country blues’. It could be argued that Wilson’s reverence for House was born out of a romanticisation of an authentic blues ideal gleaned from House’s earlier recordings. As a Blues enthusiast and musician himself Wilson was perhaps attempting to imbue himself with some of House’s perceived authenticity by rediscovering him, playing alongside him and finally thrusting him into the spotlight. Folklorist Evans goes on to state in Davis (1998, p.43) that ‘I felt that Al really went a little too far in performing with these artists in public… But that’s what he wanted to do. I kind of left them alone out of respect. I guess I felt that it was kind of wrong to impose myself on the musicians - to some extent even to play with them’. It could be proclaimed 8 I: THE CREATION OF AN AUTHENTIC BLUESMAN that white revivalists such as Wilson who performed alongside House were perhaps responsible in some way for diluting the idiom’s cultural heritage as they sought to fulfil their own conceptions of an authentic Blues ideal. Once more, question marks could be raised when discussing if House’s 1960’s recordings are an authentic representation of his own work and the idiom altogether. Wilson who stemmed from a white middle-class background, was not even born during the time House’s first recordings were produced and this distance from the origin of House’s work could be viewed as a potential dilution or contamination of the work’s authenticity. As revivalists coaxed older Bluesmen back into recording careers there was no doubt that in many cases, as in House’s, his skill had somewhat diminished over the years and ‘the fiery bottleneck guitar work on his 1930 recordings was something that had slipped away with time and age’ Davis (1998, p.42). The re- recording of ‘Preachin’ Blues’ (House, 1965) conducted during the 1960’s perfectly highlights this reduction in ability and change in style as a consequence. When analysing the performance in the later recording, House’s guitar work feels somewhat forced, or lackadaisical and lacks the ebb and flow captured in the original. Furthermore the advancements in recording technology meant that by the time House came to record in the 1960’s he was able to be captured with a much higher fidelity, resulting in an increased ease to identify any possible instrumental mistakes. Whether House’s later recordings could be considered authentic or not due to the involvement of white revivalists such as Wilson, is perhaps a question of a more socio-political nature and thus beyond the scope of this essay. In conclusion, House is a significant and suggestive figure as one seeks to analyse the creation of an authentic Bluesman via music recordings, offering us three distinct bodies of work which critically inform one another. The tropes and attributes that can be observed within his work would go onto influence and set boundaries within the idiom for decades, influencing white revivalists and musicians both in the United of States of America and across the Atlantic in the United Kingdom. 9 II : BLUES & THE MODERN RECORDING STUDIO If Son House, among his contemporaries helped to first define and propagate an authentic Blues ideal, then a new breed of Bluesman was set to emerge in the 1950’s who would help diversify the idiom - offering a point of entry for all comers in the process. This new breed of Bluesman would emanate from the cities of the North, most notably Chicago. Having migrated from the rural areas of the South, many African Americans entered the cities of the North in the hope of higher-paying jobs and the chance of a better education, whilst also seeking to escape the racial inequality of the Jim Crow laws (Derek et al, 2010, p.263). Following in the musical footsteps of House, Patton and other progenitors of the genre, artists such as Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf came to the fore in the 1950’s. Armed with electric instruments and amplification, Waters and Wolf had arrived in the era of the modern recording studio, equipped to capture the nuance of tone and performance. If the aesthetic charm of House’s unaccompanied, brittle- sounding, recordings was a result of his geographic and existential remoteness, then by the same equivalency, electric city Blues could be considered the antithesis of this aesthetic. Just as the sound of a steam train heard echoing across the Delta in ‘Shetland Pony Blues’ (House, 1941) aided to define a sonic environment and the music which reflected it, studio recordings produced by Howlin’ Wolf had a contemporary feel and invited listeners to take up a position within the sonic- architectural space of the instruments present. It was this new found accessibility which served to extend the idiom’s appeal, encouraging white musicians born many miles across the world to pick up instruments and imitate what they had heard on record. This chapter will aim to analyse Chicago Bluesman Howlin’ Wolf’s production style through his most prolific years, before going onto assess how records such as his opened up a new aesthetic space in which outsiders were able to find a debatably authentic mode of entry. Hailing from West Point near Aberdeen, Mississippi, Howlin’ Wolf was born Chester Arthur Burnett (b.1910- d.1976) onto the Young and Mara plantation. Despite not being a Bluesman himself, Wolf states in Guralnick (1992, p.153) that it was his father that bought him his first guitar. ‘I played in the South ever since 1928, the fifteenth day of January, that was when he got it for me. Guitar and mouth organ both, cause that’s what had me interested. The first piece I ever played in my life was by Charley Patton… I just naturally liked the way he played’. Wolf would go on to endure a large part of his adulthood working as a farmer in the Deep South before eventually moving to West Memphis in 1948, where he drew interest from Sam Phillips of Sun records and then Chicago’s (Hardy, 2001). It was Chess records that would later group Wolf with guitarist and writer , a working relationship which would span a 10 II : BLUES & THE MODERN RECORDING STUDIO decade, ending in 1964 (Lean’tin Bracks, 2012). Taking heed from the founding fathers of the idiom, Wolf’s electric, city, Blues would build on and push the boundaries set before him, helping to propel the genre and break down ethnological barriers in the process via audio recordings. The big cities offered Bluesmen a point of musical transition, from an acoustic, rural, folk tradition to electrified ensembles, complete with drums and multiple instrumentalists. Progression in the build of electric guitars and amplification allowed artists to perform for ever-growing audiences, whilst the modern recording studio was fit to capture this new aesthetic and city radio stations offered an effective avenue of promotion. Furthermore ‘the introduction of the microphone in the 1930s enabled the voice to be amplified above other sound sources’. The development of the microphone over the coming decades would afford artists forms of vocal expression that were softer or more intimate and therefore previously un-captured in the studio (Derek et al, 2010, p.319). Once in Memphis, Wolf would no longer perform solo, alongside a band he ‘…would alternate between harmonica and guitar, but for the most part he would concentrate on his singing and selling spots… on station KWEM in West Memphis. It was this more than anything else that landed him a recording contract’ Guralnick (1992, p.154). Despite this Schwartz (2008, p.50) states that ‘a different aspect of urbanisation may have been responsible for the new sound of the blues’, with big cities providing a ‘radically different sonic environment to the rural American South’. Consequently, it could be argued that the plethora of aforementioned factors contributed to the diversification and aesthetic change within the idiom. The previous chapter analysed and sought to define how an authentic Blues ideal was first established through recurring tropes in the audio recordings of Son House. However, this chapter will focus on how advancements in music technology were perhaps most significant, or tantamount in aiding to create and expand a new authentic, aesthetic space within the idiom. Drawing attention to advancing sound reproduction and the role of the virtual architectural space of a recording as ‘psychologically revealing’ and an ‘expression of authentic emotion’ (Derek et al, 2010, p.318). This new aesthetic space opened up with the idiom as a result of advancing technologies would eventually go onto challenge preconceived notions of authenticity as white musicians, influenced by the records of Wolf and his contemporaries, began to emulate the music of the rural, American South. Prior to the predominately white, British led Blues revival in the 1960’s, an inviting, accessible aesthetic space needed to be opened up within the idiom in order to encourage the participation of cultural and geographical outsiders. ‘Moanin’ At Midnight’ (Wolf, 1951) was Wolf’s first single released on Chess records. Whilst the single does not quite feature the same 11 II : BLUES & THE MODERN RECORDING STUDIO sophisticated production which can be observed in Wolf’s later work, it could be viewed as a blueprint and a foundation in which a new aesthetic space could be built upon. Akin to his predecessors, Wolf and his band battle against surface noise throughout the recording, yet the single still marks a significant reduction in noise and therefore, shift in recording capacity. When juxtaposed with the more antiquated sounding ‘Pony Blues’ (Patton, 1929) progression in recording technology and the environments in which Bluesmen were recorded become particularly apparent, as Patton’s voice and acoustic guitar struggle for clarity amidst an abundance of noise. Furthermore Son House’s ensemble recording of ‘Walking Blues’ (House, 1941) could be described as muddy, with each instrumentalist struggling for sonic space, resulting in an ambiguous definition of the instruments present as well as the musical function they serve. Featuring electric instruments and a drum kit, ‘Moanin’ At Midnight’ (Wolf, 1951) marks a significant change in musical style, made possible by advancing recording technology. The nuance and range of Wolf’s vocal performance is effectively captured, from his smooth, opening howl to the jagged verses heard later in the song. Moreover there is sonic space for the other instruments present, the drums serve a clear rhythmic function whilst the harmonica and electric guitar repeat a simple riff which helps drive the song. It is important to note that the harmonica only appears without vocals, weaving in and out of the verses to emphasise the guitar riff in the absence of the voice. It is also during the absence of vocals that the guitar deviates from the relatively simple, repetitive riff heard through the verses. The guitarist performs higher pitched notes and slides in-between riffing, adding intrigue and showcasing elements of virtuosity during vocal interludes. This clear understanding of musical roles not only demonstrates a ‘tightness’ between the performers but also a new self-consciousness in regards to music recording within the idiom. The harmonica and guitar both possess a frequency range similar to that of the human voice (Stereo Review, 1980) and so the clear separation of these instruments must be considered both a production and musical choice in the anticipation of a recording. Speaking of an early Wolf performance in Chicago, Guralnick (1992, p.157) recounts ‘he was appearing at the Club 47 in Cambridge, a small basement coffeehouse which was only then beginning to make the transition from strict folk to and amplified music. Wolf practically forced the change all by himself. With his extravagant act, the overpowering force of his voice, above all that gargantuan presence he very nearly overwhelmed the club’. Just as it could be argued that House’s records echoed the sound world of the Mississippi Delta, Wolf’s records began to reflect his own performances with more and more intensity. However, rather than echo specific 12 II : BLUES & THE MODERN RECORDING STUDIO geographic locations, Wolf’s recordings emulated a particular ambience and showcased a persona - encouraging listeners to take up a seat within a virtual concert hall or studio. ‘’ (Wolf, 1956) is one Wolf recording which, amongst many others effectively illustrates the creation of a virtual space via a music recording. Wolf’s voice is doused with reverberation, a process was used to an increasing degree in the 1950’s as the development of echo chambers, as well as plate and spring reverbs rose to prominent use of the effect (Lacasse, 2003). The other instruments present are also privy to similar treatment within the recording, serving to further the connection between the record and a particular ambience. Derek et al (2010, p.320) states that ‘manipulation of these elements in the recording and production process can specify varieties of physical space (size and type), the position of the sound source within that space and the proximity of the sound source to the listener. These in turn influence the emotional character of a recording, because they specify a location and physical relationship between listener and sound source’. The levelling of instruments within the mix of ‘Smokestack Lightning’ (Wolf, 1956) is also essential in creating a contemporary feel and perpetuating a mood or ambience. Leading the song, the voice sits right at the very front of the mix, as does the harmonica in its absence. Derek et al (2010, p.319) claims that ’the effect of the voice at the front of the mix is a prioritisation of attention on the artist and his/her identity, and that of the character performed by the artist’. Consequently it could be considered an aesthetic choice, designed to reel the listener in to a virtual space and bring them closer to the performer. The drum kit cuts through the mix filling a large sonic space, whilst the guitar although distant at times, is relentless and drives the song with a distinctive riff from beginning to end. The piano however, is incredibly distant within the mix rendering the instrument to be borderline inaudible and unidentifiable for large parts of the recording. Instruments such as the bass guitar or piano which are capable of playing within a lower to middle register are un-emphasised in the mix. It is also interesting to note the musical function of the piano, which can be heard performing mostly extemporised, ‘filler’ material. This leads to a murky, muddled lower end and aids to evoke a particular mood. Hardy (2001) substantiates this claim, writing that records such as ‘Smokestack Lightning’ (Wolf, 1956) ‘accorded with his [Wolf’s] imposing and even menacing stage presence’. It could be argued that the aforementioned aesthetic choices within the mix allowed for this re-manifestation of Wolf’s onstage persona and emotional authenticity, hooking listeners into the virtual realm of the recording. In spite of this, one could still make the claim that this was not an aesthetic choice but rather a byproduct of recording live during the 1950’s with the limitations that it presented. However, 13 II : BLUES & THE MODERN RECORDING STUDIO when comparisons are drawn across a range of Wolf’s recordings within the same era it becomes more favourable for one to make the statement that the levelling of instruments were aesthetic choices and not limitations. When juxtaposed with ‘Smokestack Lightning’ (Wolf, 1956), the mix of ‘Sitting On Top Of The World’ (Wolf, 1957) sounds noticeably different with the piano and bass guitar featuring prominently throughout. The piano can be heard extemporising, performing snappy, higher-pitched virtuosic phrases, weaving in and out of Wolf’s vocals. Its inclusion could also be considered an aesthetic choice, serving to intensify the mood of Wolf’s vocal performance and provoking thoughts of a alternate virtual sound world. It was ultimately advancing recording technologies which helped to realise a virtual space in music recordings via some of the foregoing processes mentioned. The virtual sound world created as a result of such processes aided to establish an authenticity within a recording, creating a higher level of intimacy between listener and performer (recording). The advent of hi-fi culture also insured that listeners were increasingly able to experience the nuance of performance or ambience originally captured in a studio, in their own homes (Derek et al, 2010, p.112). Derek et al (2010, p. 112) goes on to cite that ‘the fidelity of sound reproduction is characterised as sufficient to give the listener an experience of being transported to the location of the musicians or vice versa’. This is no more apparent than within Wolf’s own body of work, in which listeners are encouraged to take up a position within the sonic architectural space of the music recording. The studio offered a level playing field regardless of heritage and meant that cultural outsiders were able to emulate the aesthetic, (and therefore authenticity) created by artists such as Wolf through the mechanisms of the modern recording studio, irrespective of race, creed or geography. The new possibilities afforded by advancing recording technology allowed Wolf singularly to create a signature environment - one in which his howl predominates - and to define a potent template for future blues recordings. This dislocation to a virtual, designer space represents a significant qualitative leap from the aesthetic of the rural blues and it is the exploration of this entirely new, artificial yet audibly authentic space which was to provide the entry point for later artists.

14 III : THE BRITISH BLUES REVIVAL Once artists such as Wolf had opened up this tangible aesthetic space, accessible via modern recording techniques, then a non-discriminate entry to the Blues discourse had also been forged, making way for the British Blues revival in the 1960’s. By utilisation of the musical, recording and mixing tropes established within the idiom through artists including Wolf as well as his predecessors, British artists such as The Rolling Stones, Fleetwood Mac and rose to fame. Aspiring to extend the various attributes already established within the discourse, British Blues acts perhaps represented a new form of musical learning, as they imitated and re-appropriated the recorded music of the rural, American south with a debatably technocratic indulgence. Burdon et Craig (2001, p.53) claim that American Bluesman described Newcastle, (birthplace of British Blues act The Animals) as ’a gritty, working-class city…’ that ‘… could have been situated right in the deep American South’. However, whilst some were tempted to draw parallels between the hardships of life in Britain and the Deep South - British Blues could only ever be considered a musically reactive event, as American records began to trickle into the British market towards the mid twentieth century. Schwartz (2008, p.15) describes how the limited number of American Jazz and Blues records first available in the U.K led to an increased importance, perhaps changing modes of listening within the specific communities which received them. ‘British collectors… were in many respects the custodians of Jazz history. Before the advent of the long-playing record and the market for re-releases created by the New Orleans revival only a small sampling of American Jazz as available for general purchase. The devoted few who ordered… from the U.S at great cost or combed junk shops looking for recordings cast off by American servicemen… were sources of unique knowledge; their prized recordings of early New Orleans outfits,… “race” blues, and African American spirituals were often the only copies in the country’. As a result one could argue that the limited number of Jazz and Blues records available in the U.K helped to induce a new form of stringent analytical listening, with musicians and listeners alike placing great significance on the records they found. Ward (1998, p.10) writes that there was a perception among whites that ‘…black styles were somehow purer, more authentic, less haunted by the spectre of an all-powerful commercial apparatus controlling the production and consumption of the music’. Despite this, as the appeal and influence of the Blues extended over the Atlantic it could not be argued that some of the resulting British acts became some of the most commercially successful artists of all time - aiding to kick-start a faddish musical culture in the process. This final chapter will asses the work of seminal Rock ’n’ Roll act The Rolling Stones, who are named in reverence to prodigious Bluesman Muddy Waters’ ‘Rollin’ Stone’ (Waters, 1950). By 15 III : THE BRITISH BLUES REVIVAL analysing the aesthetic value represented in their body of work, as well as its constituted authenticity, one would hope to de-construct the self-conscious British Blues musician, effected by advancing technologies and methods of examination. As established in the first chapter, authenticity within the idiom was often connected to racial, cultural, or geographical circumstance but this shifted as the modern studio began to offer an accessible designer space open to anyone who walked through its doors. Perhaps a necessity to the continuum of the Blues canon, The Rolling Stones’ records possessed a retrospective power, refracting elements of the idiom for large, contemporary audiences, first in the U.K and then around the world. Earlier releases such as ‘’ (The Rolling Stones, 1964) demonstrated The Stones’ aptitude in imitating some of the musical and aesthetic features exhibited on the records of their African American idols - in this case Wolf’s own, ‘The Red Rooster’ (Wolf, 1961). Recordings are unable to differentiate between the accidental or deliberately executed and so the preservation of mistakes (bottleneck noise, mis- tunings, throat clearing, spontaneous sighs) within early recordings in the idiom arguably also gave bands such as The Rolling Stones an expressive, aesthetic license as well as a musical one. As the bands popularity surged through the 1960s, The Stones began to deviate from copy-cat, reformations of Blues classics. The aesthetics of records such as ‘Aftermath’ (1966), ‘Their Satanic Majesties Request’ (1967) and ‘’ (1969) started to pose suggestive juxtapositions of progressive, white, British and African American musical culture. It is the resulting aesthetic space which is the topic of the following writing. ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’ (The Rolling Stones, 1969) is the last song featured on the album ‘Let It Bleed’ (1969). Clocking in at seven minutes and twenty-nine seconds, it is perhaps first significant to note the difference in economy of expressivity when contrasted with the recordings of Charley Patton or Son House1. Advancing technologies through the 1940’s and 50’s made way for the introduction of long-playing records (Keightley, 2003), a luxury not typically afforded to the aforementioned Bluesmen. Long-playing records offered The Rolling Stones and their contemporaries the luxury of time. Arguably self-indulgent ‘jams’ could now be preserved via recordings, whilst the general advancement of recording technology and subsequent time spent in the studio allowed for the creation of more expansively imaginative works. Keightley (2003) goes on to state that ‘the advent of a youth market for LPs in the mid-1960s was linked to the development of the album as the vehicle for artistic seriousness and experimentation within rock culture. More than merely a collection of songs, the album here is associated with ideas of

1 Son House’s return to recording in the 1960’s as prompted by Al Wilson resulted in the creation of some long-form works. 16 III : THE BRITISH BLUES REVIVAL complexity. Unlike the single, the album may be conceived as involving a larger totality, with a continuity and coherence of theme, mood, sound or narrative across its duration. Albums have also permitted a movement away from the relatively abbreviated length of the popular song - which had itself been formalised by the limited length of early recording media’. ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’ (The Rolling Stones, 1969) perfectly illustrates this luxury due to its longer run time and unorthodox, movement-like structure. Featuring three distinct sections; a chorale-like opening before reverting back to a more typical ‘rock’ band formation which ever builds in intensity and culminates in an expanded ‘jam’ which signals the return of the choir. The song opens with an all male choir section performing the vocal refrain that can be heard throughout the following choruses. The ambient reverberation of the choir instantly puts the listener within the space of a virtual church, a location associated with chorale music for centuries in the western world (Choir, 2013). It is discernible from the recording that grown men are performing the harmonic part of the section, with elongated vowel sounds providing a chordal backing for the higher-pitched melody sung by boys. Younger males singing Jagger’s lyrics represents a collapse in age association and helps to place the recording on an ethereal platform. The choir can be heard singing until the fiftieth second of the song and do not return until six minutes, thirteen seconds alongside the band. This effect of book-ending in ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’ (The Rolling Stones, 1969) re-enforces the virtual church and notions of worship in the introduction and outro, framing the main body of the song in a pseudo-religious, reverential state. The introductory chorister section is followed by an acoustic guitar performing a relatively simple and typical-for- the-genre harmonic rhythm. The guitar is joined seconds later by a French horn. Serving a melodic function, the horn adeptly echoes imagery of an outdoor, pastoral landscape and places the listener within a vastly different virtual acoustic or space. Succeeding the church style choir by only six seconds, the atypical pairing of French horn and guitar becomes even more significant when juxtaposed with earlier artists of the Blues canon. The recordings of Bluesmen such as Howlin’ Wolf typically suggest a singular virtual space, rather than the fluid combination of several as heard in ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’ (The Rolling Stones, 1969).

17 III : THE BRITISH BLUES REVIVAL The lyrical content also differs from the Blues norm established by recordings such as ‘Preachin’ Blues Pt.1’ (House, 1930) discussed in the first chapter. Following the extended introduction lead singer goes onto sing; ‘Well, I saw her today at the reception A glass of wine in her hand I knew she would go meet her connection At her feet was her footloose man…’

‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’ (The Rolling Stones, 1969) lyrically reflects an aristocratic, cosmopolitan lifestyle and so could be considered of no relation to House’s locale, instead articulating a 20th century fantasy and white, British aspirations. Lomax (1993, p.358) writes that ‘the blues have been mostly masculine territory… down in the land where the blues began, the majority of real, sure-enough, professional, and aspiring-to-be-professional blues singers… wore pants’. As the song progresses, verses are sung over a ‘jam’ style instrumentation, with electric guitar and organ loosely extemporising Blues phrases around Jagger’s voice. The rhythmic section is more consistent however, technocratically driving the song, whilst also perhaps acting as a buffer between the various virtual spaces represented in the recording. The imitation of virtuosic Blues guitar playing could be identified as a representation of masculinity and has long been an association present in the idiom, with Lomax (1993, p. 360) suggesting that the guitar could ‘turn on all the little women between both the oceans’. However despite vocalist Mick Jagger being male by definition, he has long been renowned for not being an ‘…archetypical masculine heartthrob’, possessing ‘an androgynous, almost camp style’ (WGSN, 2011). Consequently this juxtaposition between Jagger’s noted star image and the masculine Blues projection of the band bring about internal aesthetic and conceptual conflict within the recording. Frith (1996, p.212) effectively describes this phenomena by suggesting that ‘first, [pop singers] are involved in a process of double enactment: they enact both a star personality (their image) and a song personality, the role that each lyric requires, and the pop star’s art is to keep both acts in play at once’. This is important to note when contrasting the aesthetic expressivity of ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’ (The Rolling Stones, 1969) and previously analysed Blues recordings which precede it. The Rolling Stones take on the aesthetics of many roles, (or personas) within the recording and some of conflicting interest. This could be viewed as an extreme shift when compared with the bands own earlier work, or the recordings of Howlin’ Wolf or Son House who often portrayed a singular persona or image through the aesthetics of their own recordings. 18 III : THE BRITISH BLUES REVIVAL In conclusion one could critically reflect on ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’ (The Rolling Stones, 1969) and the bands attempt to allude to multiple aesthetic spaces within a singular work. The band ‘jam’ heard from around four minutes, twenty seconds onwards, is a largely extemporised section and one could describe this act as self-indulgent and immature when contrasted with the restraint shown in Wolf’s body of work. The fade-out of the recording perhaps gives heed to the other spiritual elements of the recording (choral singing), as the song appears to never end and instead forms part of an eternal continuum - something never present within the work of House or Wolf. Ultimately, the imposition of various layers of instruments and the different perspectives they offer within ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’ (The Rolling Stones, 1969) are eloquent of multi-track recording and advancing technologies. Despite this new found freedom in the studio, it could be said that the slick, eloquence of technology utilised by The Rolling Stones is thrown into relief, by the simple poignancy of the steam train heard roaring through ‘Shetland Pony Blues’ (House, 1941). Motifs that appear in earlier works of the band such as ‘Little Red Rooster’ (The Rolling Stones, 1964) hark back to notions of authenticity by imitating the musical or aesthetic language propagated by the idiom’s progenitors. However these motifs could now be assessed as twee, faddish tools that are interchangeable and superficial. The sitar featured on ‘’ (The Rolling Stones, 1966) can be easily exchanged for the French horn on ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’ (The Rolling Stones, 1969). Previously unheard within the Blues discourse this interchangeability represents a vastly expanded notion of social mobility, as The Rolling Stones constitute various backgrounds and re-appropriate a plethora of cultures in the anticipation of the bands global success. Despite this somewhat estranged direction from the Bluesmen who preceded them, The Rolling Stones can still be considered an essential part of the Blues canon. By using some of the tropes that were established within the idiom long before the British Blues revival, The Rolling Stones remain part of a Blues continuum in which their body of work can critically inform generations past and present. 19 CONCLUSION The assessment of Son House’s career in three distinct stages helps to illustrate the creation of an authentic Blues ideal via audio recordings. Through the use of recurring motifs, or musical and lyrical tropes, artists such as House were able to define the idiom for the first time through the continued use of such parameters within the recordings they made. However, as discussed in the first chapter, not all artists who toiled within the idiom were recorded (and therefore preserved), whilst the Bluesmen who found themselves in front of the microphone were often fulfilling a white American desire, or prospect of financial gain. The proof given for the often accidental discovery of Bluesmen as documented in the first chapter via primary accounts, perpetuates the idea that perhaps not all significant performers were preserved through audio recordings, thus skewing conceived ideals of authenticity. The interference of previously mentioned white archivists and musicians, such as Lomax and Wilson only further the claim that some of the idiom’s most prolific artists suffered a dilution or change in material as a result of external influence and choice. Despite this external influence, vast numbers of Bluesmen were still catalogued through the early twentieth century, with the body of work that they left behind all pointing in a similar aesthetic and musical direction. This leads to the assumption that whilst there was perhaps some bias, or chance determinism in the selection of recorded artists, the body of early Blues recordings left behind is large enough to remain a reliable source and critically informative of the genre. Progression in recording technology further helped to propel the idiom into a new aesthetic space, bridging cultural gaps in regions or countries where the music of the Blues once appeared alien and inaccessible. Growing up in similar circumstances to Charley Patton or Son House in the Deep South permitted artists such as Howlin’ Wolf credibility due to his closeness, both physically and culturally to the music’s authentic origins. Wolf’s migration North coincided with the establishment of a contemporary aesthetic space within the idiom that was fit for purpose amongst the contemporary audiences in the Northern cities. Advancing technologies and the manipulation of sound offered up the possibility for a designer space within an audio recording that could authentically represent a virtual room or perpetuate a mood. The resulting aesthetic space was inclusive in contrast to the remote recordings made by Son House and offered outsiders a seemingly authentic mode of entry to the idiom via the modern recording studio. Stringent, analytical listening equated in the technocratic musical learning among white musicians in the U.K who sought to imitate the recordings of the delta Bluesmen. By copying and expanding upon the techniques of the Bluesmen who preceded them, bands like The Rolling Stones expanded the musical vocabulary of the Blues through the examination of previous works. 20 CONCLUSION In this referential act, The Rolling Stones amongst others demonstrated virtuosic elements present within the idiom that did not previously interest Lomax or Wilson, because it was a potential indicator of white musical training. This in turn highlighted the original or truly authentic purveyors of virtuosic technique within the idiom, prompting the further analytical discussion and listening of recorded objects. However, when assessed, the work of The Rolling Stones becomes seemingly estranged and inauthentic. Fad culture within the 1960’s led to the creation of incoherent works and cliched use of motifs, the success of which depends on the listener’s vested interest in the band’s star image. As drummer (2006) confesses ‘when you cover songs, invariably they’re not really as good as the originals… we’ve done great cover versions of great blues singer’s songs… they can be different and be good at being different’. Despite this, the aesthetic spaces presented within the band’s recordings, as well as technocratic reproduction of small musical details and virtuosity helps to establish their position as a meaningful one within the discourse. The dichotomy of authentic and in-authentic becomes irrelevant in the discussion of The Rolling Stones as they occupy a retrospective space, which is a necessity to the logical continuum of the Blues idiom. Listeners often experienced music by way of gramophone or television and so it could be said that the artist’s identity did not matter much for the aesthetic experience. The proliferation of recording allowed for the nuances of performance to be captured with increasing detail regardless of background and it would be the master of such aesthetic tools who would have access to a perceived authentic Blues ideal. ! 21 BIBLIOGRAPHY Audio Recordings ‘Aftermath’ (1966) The Rolling Stones. Decca ‘Blue Yodel No. 9 (Standin’ on the Corner)’ (2013) Jimmie Rodgers on The Essential Jimmie Rodgers. RCA/Legacy. (Originally recorded for Victor in 130). ‘Let It Bleed’ (1969) The Rolling Stones. Decca ‘Little Red Rooster’ (2004) The Rolling Stones on Singles 1963-1965. ABCKO Records and Music Inc. (Originally recorded for Decca in 1964) ‘Moanin’ at Midnight’ (2011) Howlin’ Wolf on Smokestack Lightning/The Complete Chess Masters 1951-1960. Geffen Records. (Originally recorded for Chess Records in 1951) ‘Paint It Black’ (1966) The Rolling Stones on Aftermath. Decca ‘Pony Blues’ (2013) Charley Patton on Pony Blues. Supreme Media. (Originally recorded for Genett Records in 1929) ‘Preachin’ Blues Pt.1’ (2003) Son House on Martin Scorsese Presents The Blues: Son House. Columbia/Legacy. (Originally recorded for Paramount in 1930). ‘Preachin’ Blues’ (1965) Son House on Father of Folk Blues. Columbia ‘Rollin’ Stone’ (2014) Muddy Waters on Anthology. U-5. (Originally recorded for Chess Records in 1950) ‘Shetland Pony Blues’ (2014) Son House on Delta Blues. Vintage Music Association S.P. (Originally recorded for the Library of Congress in 1941) ‘Sitting On Top Of The World’ (2011) Howlin’ Wolf on Smokestack Lightning/The Complete Chess Masters 1951-1960. Geffen Records. (Originally recorded in 1957 or Chess Records) ‘Smokestack Lightning’ (2001) Howlin’ Wolf on His Best. Geffen Records. (Originally recorded for Chess Records in 1956) ‘The Red Rooster’ (2007) Howlin’ Wolf on The Howlin’ Wolf Anthology. Spectrum Music. (Originally recorded in Chess Records in 1961) ‘Their Satanic Majesties Request’ (1967) The Rolling Stones. Decca ‘Walking Blues’ (2003) Son House on Martin Scorsese Presents The Blues: Son House. Columbia/Legacy. (Originally recorded for the Library of Congress in 1941) ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’ (1969) The Rolling Stones on Let It Bleed. Decca Published Books Burdon, Eric with Craig, Marshall, J (2001) Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood. Thunder’s Mouth Press Derek, B, Scott et all (2010) Ashgate Research Companion to Popular Musicology. Ashgate Publishing Group Frith, Simon (1996) Performing Rites. Cambridge; Harvard University Press Guralnick, Peter (1992) Feels Like Going Home. Third Edition. Lomax, Alan (1993) The Land Where the Blues Began. Methuen London Schwartz, RF (2008) How Britain Got the Blues : The Transmission and Reception of American Blues Style in the United Kingdom. Ashgate Publishing Group. 22 BIBLIOGRAPHY Ward, Brian (1998) Just My Soul Responding: Rhythm And Blues, Black Consciousness And Race Relations: Rhythm and Blues, Black Consciousness and Race Relations Since 1945. Routledge Internet Resources Beaumont, DE 2011, Preachin' the Blues : The Life and Times of Son House, Oxford University Press, USA, Cary, NC, USA. Available from: ProQuest ebrary. [24 November 2014]. Bracks, Lean’tin. Howlin’ wolf (1910-1976) (2012). [Online]. In African American almanac : 400 years of triumph, courage and excellence. Canton, MI: Visible Ink Press. Available from: http://arts.idm.oclc.org/login?qurl=http%3A %2F%2Fsearch.credoreference.com.arts.idm.oclc.org%2Fcontent%2Fentry%2Fvipaaalm %2Fhowlin_wolf_1910_1976%2F0 [Accessed 9 February 2015]. Choir (2013). [Online]. In The Columbia Encyclopedia. New York, NY: Columbia University Press. Available from: http://arts.idm.oclc.org/login?qurl=http%3A%2F%2Fsearch.credoreference.com.arts.idm.oclc.org%2Fcontent%2Fentry %2Fcolumency%2Fchoir%2F0 [Accessed 26 February 2015]. Davis, Rebecca. Child is Father to the Man - How Al Wilson taught Son House how to play Son House. Accessed: 18 November 2014 from http://www.wirz.de/music/house/grafik/wilson.pdf Hardy, Phil. Howlin’ wolf (2001). [Online]. In The faber companion to 20th century popular music. London, United Kingdom: Faber and Faber Ltd. Available from: http://arts.idm.oclc.org/login?qurl=http%3A%2F %2Fsearch.credoreference.com.arts.idm.oclc.org%2Fcontent%2Fentry%2Fffcpop%2Fhowlin_wolf%2F0 [Accessed 3 February 2015]. Keightley, K. (2003) Album. [Online]. In Continuum encyclopedia of popular music of the world: Media , industry and society. London, United Kingdom: Continuum. Available from: http://arts.idm.oclc.org/login?qurl=http%3A%2F %2Fsearch.credoreference.com.arts.idm.oclc.org%2Fcontent%2Fentry%2Fcontpmwmis%2Falbum%2F0 [Accessed 26 February 2015]. Lacasse, S. (2003) Reverb. [Online]. In Continuum encyclopedia of popular music of the world: Performance and production. London, United Kingdom: Continuum. Available from: http://arts.idm.oclc.org/login?qurl=http%3A%2F %2Fsearch.credoreference.com.arts.idm.oclc.org%2Fcontent%2Fentry%2Fcontpmwpp%2Freverb%2F0 [Accessed 13 February 2015]. Oliver, P. and Smith, C. (2012) "Blues" in Continuum Encyclopaedia of popular music of the world, Bloomsbury, London, United Kingdom. Accessed: 12 November 2014, from Credo Reference

Oliver, Paul. Barrelhouse Blues : Location Recording and the Early Traditions of the Blues. Boulder, CO, USA: Basic Civitas, 2009. ProQuest ebrary. Web. 17 November 2014.

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Son House (1975) Review by: David Evans. Ethnomusicology, Vol. 19, No. 1 (Jan, 1975), pp. 150-152. Published by: University of Illinois Press on behalf of Society for Ethnomusicology. Accessed: 19 November 2014 from http:/ www.jstor.org.arts.idm.oclc.org/stable/849757 Stereo Review (April, 1980) ‘The Frequencies of Music’ diagram. Accessed: 13 February 2015 from http:// www.psbspeakers.com/articles/The-Frequencies-of-Music Watts, Charlie (2006) Interview on The Rolling Stones Youtube Channel. Accessed: 2 March 2015 from https:// www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gqm8Qn3iGIM WGSN (2011) Style Icon: Mick Jagger. Accessed: 27 February 2015 from http://www.wgsn.com.arts.idm.oclc.org/ content/board_viewer/#/18274/page/1