On May 11th, we celebrated the 110th birthday of Robert Johnson, the grandfather of the Delta Blues. Wait a minute…if Muddy Waters was the grandfather, then I guess that makes Mr. Johnson…the great-grandfather?
Either way, there’s no way anyone can listen to Johnson and not feel a weird sense of transported history. Apart from his palpable contribution to Americana, he also brings with him an amazing body of folklore.
* * *
Just now, I was trying to see how much I could figure out about Robert Johnson via Wikipedia. You know what?!? Robert Johnson didn’t care about Wikipedia. He was a man of the swamps. (It should be noted at this point that nothing I write can be corroborated.)
From what I heard, there were only 2 or 3 legitimate photos of Robert Johnson taken that still exist today. To boot, he sold his soul to the Devil at a crossroads. In my book, that’s pretty B.A. and I think that Mr. Danzig would concur.
And so, we salute you, Mr. Johnson. May your laments be the music to which we imbibe.
If you don’t listen to the track below, you’re an asshole. And you hate Robert Johnson.
Station 18 1/2 