APPEARS ON: Robert Johnson: The Complete Recordings [Sony]; Rory Block: Gone Woman Blues [Rounder]
If you’re going to talk about the blues, & especially about the blues from the Mississippi Delta region—home to a great many remarkable musicians—you have to talk about Robert Johnson. This man lived a short life—he died at the age of 27—& actually was somewhat obscure in his own time, certainly not as well known in the Delta region as Charlie Patton & Son House. Since his death, however, & especially since the 1961 release of the King of the Delta Blues lp, he has grown enormously in stature & is generally considered as a seminal figure not only in the blues, but also in the development of rock & roll.
He recorded 29 songs during his lifetime, but not all were released & none were major hits, even within the Delta. In fact, the song we’re looking at today was his most commercially successful side, selling around 5,000 copies.
“Terraplane Blues” isn’t really a song about a car, tho it’s worth knowing that the Terraplane, a model made by the Hudson Car Company in the 1930s, is the auto referred to in the lyrics. The song is ultimately about infidelity & loss of desire. This specific metaphor didn’t originate with Johnson—one notable example of the car as sexual metaphor in the old time blues is Blind Boy Fuller’s “Worn Out Engine,” which is very different musically but shares some of the same images of sexual dysfunction. Johnson’s setting, however, is remarkable for the guitar virtuosity he displays over the top of a standard 12-bar blues progression. One characteristic of Delta blues is the driving, damped bass strummed or plucked on the lowest 3 strings of the guitar. Johnson was a master of this & “Terraplane Blues” is a great example.
Johnson also very frequently employed a slide with his playing, & “Terraplane Blues” includes some memorable slide riffs. Perhaps what’s most notable about the song in this regard, however, is the fact that the slide is used only for a few riffs within the song. More typically in the Delta blues, the slide will be the “response” to the singer’s “call,” & thus be used often within a song. To confine its use to a handful of riffs is somewhat unusual—for one thing, wearing a slide effectively removes one left hand finger from fretting & in that sense is a bit of a handicap.
Why was “Terraplane Blues” moderately successful while others of Johnson’s songs were not? There are, for instance, some notable musical similarities between “Terraplane Blues” & “Cross Road Blues,” tho the latter makes more use of the slide. Was it the lyrics or was it something about the driving beat & the riffs? It’s hard to say what set this song apart during the 1930s from his other great recordings, but it’s most certainly a great blues tune. “Terraplane Blues” has been covered a number of times by such noteworthy musicians as Peter Green, Canned Heat, Eric Clapton, Foghat & Roy Rogers (the bluesman, not the singing cowboy!) I’ve chosen to add a video of one of my one favorite blues players, Rory Block, who does a great job both with the vocal & the guitar.
Hope you enjoy the song.
Terraplane Blues
And I feel so lonesome, you hear me when I moan When I feel so lonesome, you hear me when I moan Who been drivin' my Terraplane for you since I been gone.
I'd said I flash your lights, mama, you horn won't even blow (spoken: Somebody's been runnin' my batteries down on this machine) I even flash my lights, mama, this horn won't even blow Got a short in this connection, hoo well, babe, it's way down below
I'm goin' hoist your hood, mama, I'm bound to check your oil I'm goin' hoist your hood, mama, mmm, I'm bound to check your oil I got a woman that I'm lovin' way down in Arkansas
Now, you know the coils ain't even buzzin', little generator won't get the spark Motor's in a bad condition, you gotta have these batteries charged But I'm cryin', please, please don't do me wrong. Who been drivin' my Terraplane now for you since I been gone.
Mr. highway man, please don't block the road Please don't block the road 'Cause she's reachin' a cold one hundred and I'm booked and I got to go
Mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm Yoo ooo ooo ooo, you hear me weep and moan Who been drivin' my Terraplane now for you since I been gone
I'm goin' get down in this connection, keep on tanglin' with your wires I'm goin' get down in this connection, oh well, keep on tanglin' with these wires And when I mash down on your little starter, then your spark plug will give me fire
SONG: Cool Drink of Water BY: Tommy Johnson PERFORMED BY: Tommy Johnson
APPEARS ON: Tommy Johnson: Complete Recorded Works 1928-1929 (Document); Rory Block: Gone Woman Blues (Rounder)
If someone wanted to create a fictional blues legend, it would be hard to improve on the real life legend of Tommy Johnson—the “other” & lesser-known blues playing Johnson from the Delta region. In fact, Tommy Johnson shares much with Robert Johnson (the two were not related); in both cases, there’s was a story circulating that each had sold his soul to the devil at a crossroads in order to master the blues—however, while we don’t know for sure whether Robert Johnson was behind this story about himself, we do know that Tommy Johnson played an active role in telling how he had come to mastery of the blues. Both were exceptional guitar players & singers—Tommy Johnson was known to play the guitar behind his back, behind his head, & toss the guitar in the air mid-song—all this happening roughly 40 years before the heyday of Jimi Hendrix; of course, Charlie Patton, who was Tommy Johnson’s contemporary, also engaged in this sort of showmanship. The most important thing is that—showmanship aside—Johnson could really play.
His voice was also remarkable. For my money, he had the most compelling falsetto in old-time blues—a sound that brings to mind the great “high lonesome” voices of Appalachian music, but in a much different setting. The effect is similar, however—that tingling sense of existential despair that rings true whether it’s sung by a white banjoist from the mountains—Roscoe Holcomb, for instance—or the African-American man from the Mississippi Delta.
Johnson’s lyrics are often quite interesting in themselves, even above his ability to put them across vocally, & you could make an argument for today’s song, “Cool Drink of Water” having perhaps his most compelling lyrics. A song of betrayal & displacement that leaves a lot of gaps for the imagination, it begins with the enigmatic & chilling statement “I asked for water, & she gave me gasoline.” The song goes on to describe how the singer is trying to get back home by “riding the blinds.” For those who don’t know, this meant catching a (free) ride on a train by riding on the front platform of a passenger car’s baggage car. The fact that baggage was piled up against the door meant that the seat was relatively secure, because the door wouldn’t be opened. Still, the rider was vulnerable to a shower of water or hot coals if the fireman decided to dislodge him—you can read about this & other ways to catch a train hobo-style here on the Hobohemia page. The fact is that while riding the blinds was safer than riding the top or riding the rods, there is no way to ride with much real safety on the outside of a fast-moving train!
Johnson only recorded 16 songs—a real shame, because he never recorded after 1929, tho he lived until 1956. Apparently, he believed (erroneously of course) that he had signed away his right to record. Sadly, he was also a severe alcoholic. He wrote the song “Canned Heat” about drinking Sterno, & there is every reason to believe this is autobiographical.
The sound quality on Johnson’s recordings isn’t what we might wish, but the power of his playing & singing does come thru. Oh yes, & that is mandolin you hear in the background, played by Charlie McCoy; the mandolin is a much under-rated blues instrument!
Rory Block also does a fine cover of this on her great Gone Woman Blues album; Block’s voice has a spectacular range & she’s really able to do justice to Johnson’s music. Of course her amazing guitar playing helps too! She does change the line “this train ain’t none of mine” to “this train don’t run no more”—unfortunately, an appropriate revision in the contemporary U.S.
Hope you enjoy the song.
Cool Drink of Water
I asked for water, and she gave me gasoline I asked for water, she gave me gasoline I asked for water and she gave me gasoline Lord, Lordy, Lord
Crying, Lord, I wonder will I ever get back home Crying, Lord, I wonder will I ever get back home Lord, Lordy, Lord
I went to the depot, looked up on the board I looked all over, "How long has this east bound train been gone? Lord, Lordy, Lord
Lord, I asked the conductor, "Could I ride these blinds?" (Want to know, can a broke man ride the blinds) "Son, buy your ticket, buy your ticket, 'cause this train ain't none of mine"
"Son, buy your ticket, train ain't none of mine" "Son, buy your ticket, 'cause this train ain't none of mine" Lord, Lordy, Lord "Train ain't none of mine"
PERFORMED BY: Skip James—also Rory Block, Beck, John Cephas et al.
APPEARS ON: Skip James: The Complete Early Recordings of Skip James (Yazoo), Rory Block: Gone Woman Blues (Rounder), etc.
The old blues often isn’t “easy” music—if we listen to the lyrics of many of these tunes, we encounter violence, both random & that spurred by powerful negative emotions, particularly sexual jealousy, & often violence against women—this can arise in songs by even relatively affable singers such as Mississippi John Hurt; while his later version of the song “Ain’t Nobody’s Business” is quite mild, his 1926 version is quite violent. Singers such as Robert Johnson seem to celebrate murder & beating (“32-20 Blues” & “Me & the Devil”) & Skip James—the great bluesman we’re considering here today—wrote the musically great but lyrically disturbing song “Crow Jane,” in which the singer apparently shots Crow Jane simply because she held her “head up high.” Those of us who like to listen to traditional music really are bound (my opinion) to come to terms with this; & those, like myself, who play & perform this music have to come to terms with it in different & perhaps more exacting ways.
Skip James was almost certainly a musical genius, if the term means anything at all. His fingerstyle blues—quite a bit different in technique from contemporaries such as Robert Johnson & Son House from the same Mississippi Delta region—involved guitar playing of a very high order. It’s been said that his 1930s version of “I’m So Glad” (musically quite different from Cream’s later cover) is as fine a piece of fingerstyle guitar as you can hear. In some cases—as in the song under consideration, “Devil Got My Woman”—James used an innovative tuning which made the guitar’s unfretted strings play an E minor chord; this tuning is sometimes called “Bentonia tuning” after James’ hometown, or “Cross Tuning,” a term, as I understand, coined by James himself. A lot of people write about this tune as accentuating the “minor” or mournful character of the songs, & there’s certainly truth in this. On the other hand—& to be technical for a moment—the difference between a major & minor chord is one tone—the third tone of a given scale. So for instance an E major chord contains the notes E, G# & B; an E minor chord contains the notes E, G natural & B. Much of blues playing involves a play between those two forms of the third tone—in E, for instance, a rocking back & forth between G# & G natural. This produces a very characteristic sound. However, if you look at James’ Cross Tuning, you’ll notice that the G natural appears on an open string only once: the tuning goes E, B, E, G, B, E. Because of this, the guitar player is able to limit the use of the third tone, making the song in a sense more eerie, because for stretches of time it doesn’t resolve to either major or minor, but exists in a sort of nether world between.
But what about the lyrical material? “Devil Got My Woman” is a landscape of betrayal—the woman betrays the singer, the singer betrays his friend, & at least in some sense, the friend also betrays the singer. This song is generally considered to be inspired by James’ own broken marriage. However, the motivations behind all these betrayals aren’t understood in terms of human impulses: sexual desire, anger, disappointment, jealousy. They are explicitly understood in a frame of reference of demonic possession. James himself said:
You can lay down happy at night, you and your companion... and in harmony. Everything goin' well. Satan'll creep in the house overnight... next mornin' you cannot get a good word out of her. Why? Because Satan has got the bill of sale over her. He done crept in overnight...
James was, like Son House, a mass of contradictions when it came to religion. He was an ordained Baptist preacher who reportedly believed in Voodoo practices, & also was reputed to be a compulsive womanizer & gambler. He claimed to always carry a gun, & said, “I never draw a gun unless I pull the trigger.” These contradictions certainly come out in his music. For a compelling account of James, you might look at The Haunting of Skip James on the Fascinating People blog.
There are two versions of this song in circulation—one is James’ 1930s version, which only contains three verses, & I must say I find the condensed form very effective. The other version is typified by John Cephas’ cover in the video below; while Cephas is a very gifted singer & guitar player, I find this version a bit more unfocused. I’d also commend Rory Block’s version (as “Devil Got My Man”). Ms Block is a favorite artist of mine—someone who has the rare gift of being able to play old-time blues very close to the source & yet at the same time make the music seem completely her own.
Finally—& to return at last to my original point—I’m aware that this song is sometimes considered misogynist for the line “I’d rather be the devil than to be that woman’s man.” Comparing this with “Crow Jane,” for example (you can see the lyrics for "Crow Jane" here)—a song I can appreciate musically but wouldn’t perform—it seems that the landscape is much more complicated, involving demonically-inspired betrayal, & a sense that relationships exist in a place where human agency only has a limited influence.
I’d be interested to hear what others think of these songs along these lines.
Devil Got My Woman
I'd rather be the devil, to be that woman’s man I'd rather be the devil, to be that woman’s man Aw, nothin' but the devil, changed my baby's mind Was nothin' but the devil, changed my baby's mind
I laid down last night, laid down last night I laid down last night, tried to take my rest My mind got to ramblin', like a wild geese From the west, from the west
The woman I love, woman that I loved Woman I loved, took her from my best friend But he got lucky, stoled her back again And he got lucky, stoled her back again
After a hiatus, I want to revive Just A Song. My move east has exposed me to all kinds of new (to me) talent who have inspired me to take pen in hand. As always, all entries will include the name of the artist and song, the albums it appears on, miscellaneous notes, the lyrics, and an audio and/or video of the song. Some entries will also feature annotations and/or a brief essay about the song. I'll also include links to official web sites and reviews.
