I used to play piano in a Blues Club in Georgia. This was, of course,
a long time ago and in a different life time. My bones were much
less creaky and my skin less flappy and veiny. But man, I loved
that piano. Dewberry Jones used to say 'Jim, you can make that
thing hum-ding like a crystal spring'. Dewberry and the Bed Birds
used to rip that joint up, man. Dew had a sound comin' from the
heart of that smokey rickenbacker that could un-freeze the veins
of the coldest non-believer. I shared the stage with many greats;
Turk Vernon, J.J. Goober, TJ Loveshine, Captain Funk and the
Chunky Railroad Gang, Misty Starlight, Henry 'George' Wilton
and French Freddie.
But no one...and I mean NO one...could sing the way that Alberta
Airie could sing on friday night, man. Her voice was a freight train
of golden chills that would wake you up in the darkest night singing
gospel music. We played together for 7 years in the Dew Drop
Den. For about 2 years straight, we packed the place out. The
only thing you could see would be the smokey backstage light
shootin' down on you like an angel eye from heaven. But the
thing was her set never got good until about after the third
intermission. I would be on my 25th cigarette of the night,
sweat comin' out of every orifice of my body - even off my
tongue, it seemed. That blues joint was so packed to the gills
that no one could see, move or even breathe - but it didn't
matter. All eyes were on Alberta. She would sit on the piano
like a mermaid on an ocean shore stone, man. She
inspired. She enamored. She shined. She hummed. She
roared.
One time, some player from Rollin' Stone Magazine came
down to the club and wanted to take her picture and do
a write up but this player made the mistake of smackin' old
Alberta on the hind end. POW! She cold-cocked that sucker
in the lip and made him smash into 2 tables. She had spirit.
No one could break it.
And it's not like she wasn't beautiful to boot - she was a
sight, man. You'd go home and have her embroidered
under your eyelids.
Dew used to say we had a chemistry that was 'beyond the
bubble of this bumblin' tumblin' world'. We would be playin'
and the slightest key change or melodic adjustment would
happen in the slightest body shift or hand gesture from her.
She once told me that she dug playin' with me more than
anyone - but she was nice to a lot of folks. Dew once said
'Man, if I ain't met a hundred cats who want to be beside
Alberta, I met a million. You are one lucky duck.'
Ha. Old Dew. Too bad he passed on. Lung cancer.
I'm glad you found this old painting, Jake. A lot of
memories in this painting. Keep playing your guitar. It's
important to remember what it's all about.
