Cover photo © 2019 Joseph A. Rosen In This Issue Marty Gunther has our feature interview with Lucky Peterson. We have 10 Blues reviews for you this week including new music from Magic Slim & The Teardrops, Michael Mills, AWEK, Featured Interview – Lucky Peterson Wait a minute! That can’t possibly be true! Lucky Peterson is still a relatively young at age 55. How in the world could he be celebrating his 50th anniversary as a professional musician? As strange as that might seem, however, it’s a fact! Born Judge Kenneth Peterson on Dec. 13, 1964, in Buffalo, N.Y., and the fourth member of his family with Judge as a given name, Lucky was making final preparations before leaving for Brazil to kick off a world tour to celebrate his milestone as a blues Golden Ager can when Blues Blast caught up with him. One of four children born to guitarist and bar owner James Peterson, Lucky’s been blue from birth. Deeply influenced by Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, B.B. King and Jimmy Reed, James Peterson was a juke joint owner’s son and grew up singing gospel in rural Alabama. A talented musician in his own right, he taught himself how to play the six-string after leaving home for Gary, Ind., at age 14. Possessing a gritty singing voice that reminded some folks of Wolf and others Freddie King, James relocated to western New York in 1955, working at Allied Chemical before running a used car lot by day and Governor’s Inn — a nightclub with the feel of a Southern juke – at night, opening it a few months after Lucky was born. Peterson fronted Jesse James And The Outlaws and brought world-class talent into the club, which quickly became the go-to place for blues royalty from Chicago, Detroit and Cleveland to play in route to bigger shows along the East Coast. Like his name implies, Lucky’s lived an unbelievably fortunate life since childhood. He was three years old and riding in his grandmother’s lap when the car they were riding in was rear-ended, sending him flying and landing without a scratch. He’s been Lucky ever since. As a toddler, the future multi-instrumentalist was initially fascinated by the drums and the loud sounds they produced. He picked up a pair of sticks some time that same year and began mimicking the pros he’d seen working their magic on stage as he beat out a rhythm on the bar’s house kit, and he quickly became a novelty sitting in with the Outlaws and his dad during their sets. As the thrill faded, Lucky picked up the bass for a while. But that only lasted a short time before he became bored. The ah-hah moment in his life came at age five when James booked organist Bill Doggett for a gig. One of the most important organ players ever, Doggett was a Philadelphia native whose trademark instrumental, “Honky Tonk,” hit the top of Billboard’s 1956 R&B charts. Even more impressive, it spent two weeks in the No. 2 position in the broader Hot 100 listings. “My dad said I always liked big stuff,” Lucky recalls today. “Big things always fascinated me. When I saw that organ, I just went crazy. I would just sit there in front of it and see what it was. I guess I did fall in love with the organ then.” Later that night, as his parents slept, he crept downstairs to the bar to get a closer look – tripping the burglar alarm in the process and waking up the whole house. James Peterson rushed to the showroom to discover his son seated at the piano bench and staring at the huge instrument in front of him. Instead of getting angry, however, James immediately threw the switch to power up the B-3 and taught Lucky how to play the 1-4-5 blues progression by using a cigarette – the butt for the one, the white portion for the four – a piece of electrical tape to mark the five. “It was a clever way of doin’ it,” Lucky says, “and it worked!” A quick study, he only had to be shown one time before picking up the progressions naturally and altering them into a way they immediately made musical sense. It was a jaw-dropping moment. James instantaneously recognized Lucky’s talent, and – with Doggett leaving town the next morning — he recruited the best man he could think of to teach his son the ropes. It was Buffalo-area native Dr. Lonnie Smith. Then only in his early 20s and a resident of Miami for decades, Smith frequently played at Governor’s Inn before becoming jazz superstar who worked extensively with Grover Washington Jr., Lou Donaldson and George Benson before launching a solo career in which the Jazz Journalist Association has honored him nine times as its organ keyboardist of the year. “My father told him: ‘I think my son can play the organ,’” Lucky recalls, “and he went: ‘Yeah, right! Let me see…Show me!’ “I sat down and did somethin’ that caught his attention, and he said: ‘Yeah. Let me teach him’ — and it went from there.” Peterson remains grateful. “I thank my father, I thank God and I thank Dr. Lonnie Smith for bein’ there,” he says, “and doin’ what he did to get me started.” When Lucky played behind Lightnin’ Hopkins and Jimmy Reed, they though the organ was rigged. Other blues legends – including Buddy Guy and Junior Wells, Muddy Waters and Koko Taylor – appeared regularly at the Inn. But when Willie Dixon came in to gig, Lucky’s life changed forever. A giant of a man both physically and musically as a bass player, songwriter and the man who coordinated many of the most important sessions for Chess Records in the golden age of Chicago blues in the 1950s. Dixon immediately recognized Lucky’s unique star potential. After discussions with James, he brought the boy to Paragon Recording Studio in the Windy City, where they recorded Our Future: 5 Year Old Lucky Peterson, an album released on both sides of the Atlantic on the Today/Perception label. Written by his father and based on the James Brown number, “Please Please Please,” the “1, 2, 3, 4” was released as a single backed by Dixon’s “Good Old Candy.” It became a hit. The joke at the time was that Lucky had to stop at four because he couldn’t count to five. Almost immediately, Lucky was making appearances on Johnny Carson’s Tonight Show, Ed Sullivan and Soul Train as well as Sesame Street and the TV game show What’s My Line? Lucky quickly became the regular keyboard player in his father’s band. Three years later, they returned to Today/Perception to record The Father, The Son, The Blues. It was James’ first appearance on vinyl in a career that included releases on Ichiban, Waldoxy/Malaco and King Snake before his death at age 63 following a heart attack in 2010. Young Peterson started playing guitar at age eight or nine, once again showing early that he had prodigious skills. But he was on stage one night when James snatched the instrument from his hands. He was so upset about the way Lucky was playing, he told him never to pick up a guitar again. Fortunately for blues lovers, however, Lucky didn’t listen. He began practicing his chops when his father was out of the house by playing B.B. King and Little Milton records, slowing down the 45s to 331/3 to learn the guitar parts note-for-note. He picked up French horn when attending Buffalo Academy For Visual And Performing Arts, played in the school symphony and sang in the choir – but never learned how to read music, doing everything by ear. The Peterson family lived in transition for several years after James finally tired of the brutal Buffalo winters, moving first to St. Petersburg, Fla., in 1975, where James opened Club 31, then back to New York three years later, where he relaunched Governor’s Inn. The family finally settled in Tampa in the early ‘80s, where James operated the After Dark Club. That’s where Lucky was living when Little Milton hired him as his keyboard player. He was fresh out of school and only 17 years old, but it didn’t take long for him to make his mark. Within seven months, young Peterson was promoted to bandleader and opening shows with 45-minute sets of his own. “Little Milton was like a father to me,” Lucky recalls. “Little Milton and my father were like really good friends. When he passed through Buffalo, he played the club. I met him back then, but really didn’t meet him until we moved to Florida. “He was supposed to play a couple of nights – one in Orlando and another in Tampa. But his band got stuck in Memphis in a snowstorm. So Milton called my father and said: ‘Didn’t you tell me your son could play?’” Lucky imitated Milton’s voice as he spoke, and did the same when he delivered James’ gravelly response: “Yeah, my son’s bad. He’s a bad muthafuckah!’ “’But can he play the blues?’ “’Where do ya think he come from?’ my father asked. ‘Who do you think he learned from?’ “We went and did the first job in Orlando,” Lucky says, “and he was impressed. That was Friday. On Saturday, the band showed up in Tampa – with everybody but the keyboard player.