EVERY GENRE PROJECT - March 12 - Acoustic Texas Blues
Genre of the Day - Acoustic Texas Blues
Album of the Day - Blues In My Bottle by Lightnin’ Hopkins (1961)
March 12, 2024
The stars align yet again for the Lone Star state today. Texas’ arguably most famous musical export, Beyoncé, at last announced the name of her hotly-anticipated act ii to her Renaissance trilogy, entitling the country-turned chapter “Cowboy Carter.” Though per usual the singer is elusive about the background of the album, taken as a whole the Renaissance project seeks to excavate and expose the Black roots of integral American genres from dance to country. While today’s album is technically blues, not country, today’s album begs the question: what really differentiates the two? I also bring it up because I am curious to see if she specifically looks at Texas blues-styled instrumentals and evokes the simple plainspokenness there as she curated this album’s sound. Lightnin’ Hopkins and Beyoncé both have spent significant time in the Third Ward of Houston: no matter what pundits say, Black music history and country music history are not separate spheres with overlap, but Black people were integral to country music from the get-go.
I may not be Beyoncé, but today it’s my turn to shed light on a vital artist to Texan Black music. I’ve covered acoustic Texas blues’ electrified twin before, but acoustic Texas blues is more of a harkening to historical roots, dating all the way back to the late 1800s rather like yesterday’s genre. Like electric Texas blues, the main hallmark of the genre is virtuosic guitar playing to swing rhythms. Artists in the tradition spin the strings of a guitar into pure gold as they manage to emulate a whole band with just two hands as the guitar melodies extend one’s voice. Additionally, acoustic Texas blues is notable for its incisive lyricism: while a lot of blues’ songbooks (as music in general) focus mostly on love, acoustic Texas blues tackled the hardships of being Black in Texas in the early 20th century, decrying the brutality of prison and the hardship of farm labor.
Like electric Texas blues’ heavyweight Stevie Ray Vaughan, Lightnin’ Hopkins’ early life was steeped in immense hardship. He had no father figure to look up to: his grandfather had reportedly committed suicide and his father was killed at the age of three in a contentious card game. He turned to music, and saw that the way out of hardship was to be as bold as he possibly could at pursuing his guitar dexterity. At one of Blind Lemon Jefferson’s concerts, who was the big name in acoustic Texas blues when Hopkins grew up, he began playing along with the famed blind singer who upon learning the man interrupting his playing was just a boy allowed him up on the stage and accepted him as his life’s one protégé. While fame came to him on the blues circuit, Hopkins’ life remained arduous with a jail stint in the ‘30s. Tough times cultivate some of the richest musicians, though, and he became famous in his own right for his sorrowful, world-wearied voice and guitar genius.
Today we experience just one set of Hopkins’ insane Prince-esque cache of over 600 songs, an astonishing feat too when you consider how much more work it was to get into the studio in his time. He was about efficiency, though, recording songs in one go, letting the blues spirit hang in the air with his songs’ of-the-moment and off-the-cuff authenticity. While the first couple of songs saunter lyrically through minutiae such as a swinging tune about downing a bottle of wine (“Wine Spodee-O-Dee”), he deftly tackles darker topics as well. He recalls his time in jail with the lingering “Jailhouse Blues,” drawing on the vowel in ‘days’ to allow the listener to dwell in the dreariness of prison life at the time. “Death Bells” finds Hopkins contemplating his own morality while emphasizing the importance of remembering and honoring the dead at a time when amidst racism and tribulations family ties were more vital than ever: “I want you to remember every living people / Every living people is bound to die.” In the meanwhile, he transforms the guitar into an orchestra: to him, it’s a melodic bass, a freewheeling plucked instrument, a wellspring of opportunity. He didn’t just capture lightning in a bottle with his musicianship: he is the lightning and the vessel that displays that talent all at once.