All language subtitles for BBC Arena 2017 American Epic 1of4 The Big Bang_Subtitles01_Unnamed

In the Roaring '20s,
two worlds collided.

One southern, rural and traditional.

The other northern, urban and
industrial.

America was in motion.

Record companies sent scouts across
the United States,

searching for new artists and
sounds.

They travelled to remote regions,

auditioned thousands of everyday
Americans and issued

their music on phonograph records.

It was the first time America
heard itself.

The artists they discovered
shaped our world.

Here are some of their stories.

The Appalachian mountain range was
the western frontier

of America's first British colonies.

Over the centuries,

its isolated rural communities
preserved and evolved

their own dialects, customs
and music.

MUSIC: Wildwood Flower
by Maybelle Carter

# Oh, I'll twine with my mingles
and waving black hair

# With the roses
so red and the lilies so fair

# And the myrtle so bright
with the emerald dew

# The pale and the leader
and eyes look like blue... #

Though poor in material goods,

the mountain folk are rich with
tradition.

And none more so than the founders
of modern country music,

the Carter Family.

My name's Dale Jett and I'm the
grandson of AP and Sara Carter,

and I'm sitting on my great aunt
Maybelle Carter's porch as we speak.

This area has been Poor Valley as
long as I've known it

and I grew up half a mile from here.

It may not look like it, but, as the
name implies, it's a poor area.

There's not a lot of work here and
it's pretty rugged terrain.

Hillside farming is about all that
you can do around here so,

you know, whether we like it or not,

we're in what a lot of people refer
to as poverty-stricken Appalachia,

and we are indeed, but in this area,
these big porches lend theirselves

to people just hanging out
and picking music.

And to me, music,

that's probably the most important
thing to come out of Poor Valley.

The mountain folk had always sung
and played together,

but those familiar sounds were
transformed by AP Carter

into a popular style
and a national career.

And like every great country song,
it all started with a love story.

Clinch Mountain's about 3,000 feet
and my grandfather AP was over in

that area selling fruit trees and
went up a holler one evening

and said he heard the prettiest
singing that he'd ever heard,

a just angelic voice.

# Bring back my boy,
my wandering boy... #

You know, it just pulled him up the
holler and it was Sara.

She was sitting out on the porch
and AP stopped over there.

He wanted her name and everything,
cos aunt Sara was beautiful.

She was one beautiful woman and she
had that gorgeous voice,

and he just fell deeply in love
with her.

# ..with faded cheeks and hair

# At their old home
is waiting him there... #

Sara was actually selling china.

You know, mail-order dishes, and AP
bought all the dishes that he could

afford to try to put himself in
good graces.

Oh, her voice was out of this world.

Everybody noticed it.

I mean, all she had to do to get a
crowd in was to get out and sing

on anybody's porch.

# Bring back my boy
My wandering boy

# Far, far away
Wherever he may be... #

He worshipped her, I really believe,
from the time that he first heard

her singing in that holler across
the mountain.

I don't think that he ever lost
that love.

# At their old home
is waiting him there. #

AP and Sara married, started a
family and began singing together

with Sara's teenage cousin,
Maybelle.

Aunt Maybelle, she was the kindest,
sweetest person you ever saw,

and one of the most talented.

She was a musician and wonderful car
driver.

She could do anything.

She taught herself the guitar when
she was six years old, I think.

Not much to do except to pick up an
instrument and start playing.

She did it with such ease, it was
like it was no struggle with her.

It was just there.

# Sweet fern

# Oh, tell me,
is my darling still true?

# Sweet fern

# I'll be just as happy as you... #

You know, they didn't really have
any influences,

because in Poor Valley there were no
record players, there wasn't radio,

there wasn't television.

I mean, the only influences they had
were family and friends,

was the people immediately around
them that you heard live and
first-hand.

The Carter Family played only at
home and for small local gatherings,

but the world outside Poor Valley
was about to come calling.

For 30 years, record companies had
marketed their music primarily to

the urban middle class.

But, by the mid-1920s,

that audience was switching to
the new technology - radio.

Faced with plummeting sales,

the record-makers turned to rural
and ethnic consumers,

who were being ignored by
the national broadcasters.

They sent recording teams south
and advertised for musicians

to come and audition.

Well, this was in about 1927 and the
first time that we'd ever gone out

on the road.

So, we would decide that we would
record, for instance,

in Johnson City, Tennessee.

And then it would be mentioned in
the paper and the word would get

around in churches and schoolhouses
that somebody was going to come

down there for a recording to do.

And these people would show up from
sometimes 800-900 miles away.

How they got there, I'll never know.

And how they got back,
I'll never know.

They never asked me for money.

They didn't question anything
at all.

They just were happy to sing
and play.

They had made a phonograph record,
and that was the next thing to being

President of the United States
in their mind.

Field recording sessions, organised
by producers like Frank Walker,

immortalised Americans from every
walk of life.

The Victor Talking Machine Company
hired Ralph Peer,

a man with a proven track record,
to find and develop new talent.

Peer's landmark recordings already
included the first hit record

marketed to an African-American
audience,

the first hit by a white
country musician,

and the most important artist in the
history of jazz.

He was the man who
caught lightning in a bottle.

If I have a favourite saying,

it's the art of being where
the lightning is going to strike.

And how in God's name you can detect
that, I wouldn't know,

but I have always been able
to do it.

Ralph Peer must have been a
visionary, because he saw potential

in music and acts that I don't think
anybody else really did.

He was very much in favour of ethnic
music and also promoted, you know,

acts, some of which became
legendary later on,

that would never have been recorded
without his support.

Ralph Peer recorded the music of
everyday working people.

He was using the revolutionary new
Western Electric recording system

which, for the first time, could
capture the true sound of voices
and instruments.

It was the beginning of modern
sound recording.

I'm Craig Raguse, my grandfather
Eimer Raguse was

a Western Electric engineer.

And he helped develop the electrical
recording system at Western Electric

that Ralph Peer and others took on
the road with them.

And when they went to these
makeshift studios,

they couldn't just plug it
into the electricity,

it was not a stable source.

So they had to take West cell
batteries, similar to these,

to run the system.

The artists basically had a single
take to record.

If they made a mistake, they had to
scrap what they were doing

and do it over again.

So, there were no overdubs or
anything like that,

because there was no mix, it was all
one take, one microphone,

recorded onto a wax disc.

What's great about America is
someone will work hard

in some garage or basement somewhere
and invent something incredibly

cultured and life-altering for
everybody to experience.

And the next step is to figure out
how we can monetise

and make money off of this, and
that's the part that starts to get

really interesting, because once you
are aiming to try to make money off

of a format of some kind, then happy
accidents start happening.

And that's how we accidentally got
all these amazing artists to record,

who never would have been recorded.

In the summer of 1927, Peer
travelled to Bristol, Tennessee,

and set up his recording equipment
in the empty warehouse

of the Taylor-Christian Hat Company.

He placed an article in the local
newspaper, tempting musicians

to come and audition.

So, here's a copy of the Bristol
News bulletin from July 27, 1927,

which was just at the start of the
Bristol sessions,

and this was typically a way my
father, Ralph S Peer,

would look for new talent.

And so the story reads,
"Mountain songs recorded here

"by the Victor Company.

"This morning, Ernest Stoneman and
company, from near Galax, Virginia,

"were performers and they played
and sang into the microphone.

"Stoneman receiving 100 and each of
his assistants 25.

"He received from the company $3,600
last year as his share

"of the proceeds from the songs."

Now, that was a lot of money in
those days and, believe me,

a lot of people who had talent said,

"Gee, I'd like to give that a try
myself."

VOICE OF ERNEST STONEMAN: After you
read this,

if you could play a C on the piano,

you're going to become
a millionaire.

The news of Peer's session attracted
dozens of performers to Bristol.

JP Nestor from Galax, Virginia.

Ernest Phipps and his Holiness
Singers from Corbyn, Kentucky.

And an aspiring singer, who drove
across the Smoky Mountains

from Asheville, North Carolina.

His name was Jimmy Rogers.

# Doo-doo-doo-doo

# Doe-dee-oh-doe

# Doe-dee-oh-doe-dee-oh-doe

# All around the water tanks

# Waiting for a train

# A thousand miles away from home

# Sleeping in the rain

# I walked up to a brakeman

# To give him a line of talk

# He says if you've got money,

# I'll see that you don't walk

# I haven't got a nickel

# Not a penny can I show

# Get off, get off, you railroad bum

# And he slammed
the boxcar door... #

HE YODELS

Jimmy Rogers brought a new bluesy
flavour to country music.

YODELLING CONTINUES

But country's deep, traditional
roots will forever be associated

with another group who showed up at
the Bristol sessions.

AP had been to Bristol one day
and he'd heard about this guy,

Ralph Peer, looking for new talent

and, of course, he was insistent
on going.

They were, "Oh, that's way out
there, we do need to do that.

"Nothing good'll come of it."
But he persisted.

It would have been a difficult task
to sell Sara and Maybelle in that

we're going to go record in Bristol,

which would have been a big journey
itself, so he had to coax them to
go.

Maybelle was pregnant with Helen.

Uncle Eck did not want her to go

because she was close
to her ninth month.

And Sara had Joe,
who was still nursing.

Of course, AP was very persistent.

It took them all day to get from
here to Bristol.

They had the ford creeks,

they avoided the river,
and they were in a Model T,

constantly fixing flats.

There was muddy roads, you know.

They didn't even have gravel roads,
it was mud tracks.

So, they'd been trying to get there
any way they could.

And you know, Aunt Maybelle was
nine months pregnant,

didn't feel very good,

and every time she hit a bump,
she didn't know,

you know, we going to have this baby
out here or what?

When they got to the studio that day
they said that they went in

the back way because they were
ashamed of

the clothes that they wore.

They didn't have stage clothes.

They didn't know anything about
that.

'They came into record and brought
the children dressed in rags

'and he's dressed in overalls.

'And the women are countrywomen from

'way back there, calico clothes on.

'They looked like hillbillies.
That's just what they looked like.

'But on that very first test record,
why I recall distinctly,

'as soon as I heard Sara's voice,
that was it.

'I began to build around it.

'And all the first recordings were
on that basis.'

# My heart is sad and I'm in sorrow

# For the only one I love

# When shall I see him?

# Oh, no, never

# Till I meet him in heaven above

# Oh, bury me under
the weeping willow

# Yes, under
the weeping willow tree

# So he may know where I am sleeping

# And perhaps he will weep for me

# They told me
that he did not love me

# I could not believe it was true

# Until an angel softly whispered

# He has proven untrue to you

# Oh, bury me under
the weeping willow

# Yes, under the weeping willow tree

# So he may know where I am sleeping

# And perhaps he will
weep for me... #

The second day of August 1927,

it was my first record.

Well, they just had an old building

that we recorded in,

that wasn't a regular studio.

It was just an old warehouse.

They cut it on a big wax.

If you make a mistake, you have to
shave it off, you know.

You couldn't erase it like you do a
tape.

And a lot of times we should have
done it,

but we didn't, you know.

I'd say, "Please, do that over."

And when it come out, it come out
with the mistake on it.

He said, "Well, it makes people
listen, you know."

Just see what's going
to happen next.

# Tomorrow was our wedding day

# But, oh, Lord, oh, where is he?

# He's gone to seek him
another bride

# And he cares no more for me... #

We were extremely lucky in the 1920s
and '30s that rural artists were

recorded that would never have been
recorded had these companies

not wanted to sell records
to urban and rural people.

And a lot of these songs have
changed the world, really.

They changed music, they changed
popular music

and they changed popular culture
around the world

for the last hundred years.

# Oh, bury me under
the weeping willow

# Yes, under the weeping willow tree

# So he may know
where I am sleeping

# And perhaps he will weep for me. #

Those Carter family records are
treasures

that are passed from generation to
generation to this day.

If you're lucky enough to have good
Carter Family 78s that are in good

condition...

When you pass them down along with,
you know,

great-grandma's Victrola...

with extra needles that haven't been
opened from back then,

you can't even imagine what that is.

They were really very popular.

And the backbone of any kind
of country, old-timey music.

# Oh, listen to the train

# Coming down the line

# Trying to make up
for all of her lost time

# From Buffalo to Washington... #

After that first trip to Bristol
they recorded 12 places like Camden,

New Jersey, New York City, Memphis,

Lowville, Charlotte, Atlanta.

And after all of that
they recorded 326 songs.

# My baby's left me

# She even took my shoes

# Enough to give a man
doggone weary blues

# She's gone, she's solid gone. #

I grew up hearing all their songs

and I was a huge fan
of theirs all my life.

# Can the circle be unbroken

# Bye and bye, Lord, bye and bye

# There's a better home a-waiting

# In the sky, Lord, in the sky. #

Mother Maybelle
and the Carter Family,

they were the founder and the
starter of a lot of great artists

across the board.

And I think once you hear
the original Carter Family

you don't have to explain why they
were special. It all was.

# Oh, can the circle be unbroken?

# Bye and bye, Lord, bye and bye

# There's a better home a-waiting

# In the sky, Lord, in the sky... #

Always heard that the Carter Family,

that they didn't charge widows and
orphans...

..at a performance.
And I know that seems odd,

but there was a gentleman walked up
one day, and he said,

"When I was a little boy," he said,
"I went to a Carter Family concert."

And he said, "I paid my 15 cents
and they gave it back to me."

So I know it's true, you know.

That touched me, so, I mean...

I mean, that...

I'm sorry.

That tells me it was about music
and not about money.

You know what I mean.

It's the way it ought to be.

I'm sorry.

# Can the circle be unbroken?

# Bye and bye, Lord, bye and bye

# There's a better home a-waiting

# In the sky, Lord, in the sky. #

In the '30s, during the Depression
era, the recording, I think,

was kind of winding down and maybe
they weren't finding as many songs.

AP and Sara separated,
ultimately divorced.

He was gone a lot,
she was home a lot

and she didn't really care that much
about going after the music.

She liked kind of being at home.

I think he was broken-hearted
because he worshipped Sara,

and it's sad.

I mean, I'm not sure that he ever
really wanted a whole lot

more so than to make music with her.

He didn't just lose his wife,
he lost his showmanship,

and he loved that part of his life.

And he was a sad man,
more than anything,

the fact that they weren't working
together any more.

I mean, that was his passion,

and I can't help but believe that he
was alone,

that you would have to think back
about those times

and the songs and the lyrics and the
love.

I would think that that would be

really foremost on your mind.

After the original Carter Family
from 1927 to 1940,

Maybelle went on to have her own
successful career,

and Elvis even toured with her for a
time.

And then in Knoxville she picked up
a guitar player by

the name of Chet Atkins.

And they took him to the
Grand Ole Opry and, I mean,

Chet Atkins changed the whole way
that things were done in Nashville.

And then June Carter, Maybelle's
daughter, she married Johnny Cash,

and that led into yet another love
story.

And then June's children,

you've got Carlene is a successful
recording artist, married Nick Lowe.

Rosanne Cash,
who's a singer-songwriter,

married Rodney Crowell.

Cindy Cash married Marty Stuart.

It gets really complicated.

It's hard for me to keep track,

but of all that came from that first
recording trip to Bristol in 1927.

So, as Johnny Cash referred to it,
The Big Bang of country music.

Hey, that sound that you hear there,

that's the sound of the original
Carter Family,

who were just elected to the
Country Music Hall of Fame.

The original Carter Family were
AP, Sara and Maybelle.

And tonight, for the first time
together in 27 years,

Mother Maybelle and Sara Carter.

Mama, I've long been
a Carter Family fan,

as you well know, and I'd love to
take Uncle AP's part on one of those

final hymns. We'd love to have you,
John. How about that, Aunt Sara?

Sure. All right.

APPLAUSE

# When my soul is singing

# In that promised land above

# I'll be satisfied
Satisfied

# Praising Christ the Saviour

# For redeeming grace and love

# I'll be satisfied
Satisfied

# When my soul is resting
in the presence of the Lord

# I'll be satisfied
Satisfied... #

APPLAUSE

Many of the songs that
the Carters developed,

these songs have become popular
throughout time since then.

And you can hear a lot of songs
today that,

if you listen just a little bit
harder,

you can understand the original
Carter Family songs

were at the root of these.

You know, there's so much music
and so many branches to that tree

that came from three people piling
in a little car

and leaving here to go to Bristol,

and leaving pretty much right where
I sit.

# Oh, bury me under
the weeping willow

# Yes, under the weeping willow tree

# So he may know where I am sleeping

# And perhaps he will weep for me. #

A world away from Poor Valley,
the teeming city of Memphis,

Tennessee, was the commercial and
cultural gateway for the south.

Set on the banks of the Mississippi
River, Memphis is a rowdy port city,

famous for its booming cotton trade.

Memphis never closed up then.

The boats would run from
Memphis to New Orleans,

Stop all down through
the Mississippi Delta,

pick up cotton bales.

And they had me working on the boat.

When they came in, the man from
the boat would tie up

and you'd get paid off,
then you'd go uptown

and start spending the money,
get drunk. Memphis was an open town.

It never closed up.

A wide-open town with one of the
highest crime rates in the country,

Memphis was home to a vibrant music
scene known for its witty lyrics

and rough street rhythms.

As the Carter Family's music
reflects the hills of Appalachia,

the songs of the Memphis jug band
reflect an urban underworld

full of drugs, gambling,
prostitution and violence.

By the 1920s, the heart of
the action was Beale Street.

The jazz addict is not likely to
find on Beale Street today

very much of what the music
historian calls

"the style of the '20s",

but there is a kind of music that
still continues

the feeling of the past.

It's as old as peewees
and as authentic.

And you can still hear it played by
an occasional wandering minstrel

or two, in the guise of a jug band
with or without a jug.

For example, take the work of
Charlie Burse and Will Shade,

two practising musicians of
Beale Street 1958.

How about an example, Charlie?

Yes, we've been here a long time,
we would like to give you a little

synopsis of what we used to hear.
Would you like to hear one? Fine.

# I went up Main

# I turned down Beale

# I's trying to find the little
chick that they call Lucille

# I gotta move to Kansas City

# Sure as you're born

# I gotta move to Kansas City

# Where I belong

# I gotta move, baby

# Honey, where they don't allow you

# Lordy, lordy, lordy, Lord, oh, boy

# T for Texas, T for Tennesee, ha

# Boll weevil's got the cotton
and the gal's got me

# I'm gonna move to Kansas City

# Sure as you're born

# I'm gonna move to Kansas City
Where I was born... #

Well, I'll tell you, ladies and
gentlemens,

my name is William Shade Jr.

I was born in Memphis, Tennessee,
born in 1893.

# Them boll weevils got the cotton
and the women's got me

# I gotta a move to Kansas City

# Oh, yeah, sure as you're born

# We gotta move to Kansas City

# Where I belong

# We gotta move, baby

# Honey, where they don't allow you

# Lordy, lordy, lordy, Lord, oh, boy

# If you don't like my peaches

# Why did you shake my tree?
All right

# I wasn't after that chick
But she was after me

# We gotta move to Kansas City... #

I learned to play music the hard
way. I learned from the stump on up,

so I didn't have no money
to get no bass.

So, I got a can that some people
called a garbage can

with a streamlined base.

# If you didn't like my peaches

# Why did you shake my tree?

# I wasn't after that chick
But she was after me

# I gotta move to Kansas City

# We're gonna
move to Kansas City... #

And everybody in Memphis had a
jug back then, so I breezed me up a

little band which was called
the Memphis Jug Band.

# Lordy, lordy, lordy, Lord, oh, boy

# Lookee here, some like high yellow

# Some like teasin' brown
Hey!

# It takes a teasin' woman
to get me down

# I gotta move to Kansas City

# Well, well, move to Kansas City

# Where I belong

# We gotta move, baby

# Honey, where they don't allow you

# Lordy, lordy, lordy, Lord. #

In the 1920s, the Memphis Jug Band
and other street musicians

too poor to afford trumpets and
clarinets

picked up home-made instruments
and formed groups called jug bands.

# Went downtown to have a little fun

# Bought myself a razor and
a shiny gun

# Carried it home,
laid it on the shelf

# Doggone hard got to get it
myself

# Off that sheet, foldin' bed,

# I believe I'm gonna tear it down

# Tear it down, slats and all

# Tore it down
You make my baby squall

# Tore it down

# Baby, come on

# Don't take no time at all

# Come on out of that foldin' bed

# I believe I'm gonna tear it down

# I went home about four o'clock

# Knocked on the door
and found it locked

# Round to the window
and I took a peek

# A sheik there fast asleep

# That'll only be my foldin' bed

# Come on out of that foldin' bed

# I believe I'm gonna
tear it down. #

Well, a jug band is some guys making
music off of cheap instruments.

You know, they couldn't afford,
like, trumpets and
fancy brass instruments,

so they have like, a washboard,
a kazoo, harmonicas and guitars.

Just, affordable instruments that
they could get their hands on.

The jug band was just really
infectious. It makes you smile,

it makes you happy, it makes you
want to dance.

It's good-time music.

My name is Charlie Musselwhite.

I came to Memphis in 1947.

I grew up here,

I fell in love with the sound
of the Memphis Jug Band,

and Will Shade
was the driving force.

# I know they're gonna write to me

# When they get across the sea

# Every chance when
that Washington lands in France

# I say, whoa now, sugar baby... #

The Memphis Jug Band, they started
playing in Handy Park

and on the corners on the streets
downtown Memphis,

up and down Beale Street.

And they sounded good,
people liked them.

They started getting a following.

# You went way across the sea

# To keep from doing
that Lindy Bird with me

# Oh, babe, now I done told you... #

At that time, Beale Street was this
thriving, colourful, alive,

just pulsing-with-energy
neighbourhood.

It was a poor neighbourhood, but,
man, there was so much going on.

Out by the alley where Will Shade
played at night,

there'd be these jam sessions,

guys playing guitars and harmonicas
and passing the bottle,

It was just...

It was just rich with the music.

It was saturated.

But it was rough and wild,
no doubt about it.

Will Shade made it way more
colourful than

anybody ever described it.

There's so much excitement happening
down on Beale Street, it'd take me

to the end of the day to tell you
about all that excitement.

It used to be the red-light
district or something like that.

You could walk down the street
in days of the 1900s,

you could find a man,
throat cut from ear to ear.

Also you could find people getting
knocked on the head with bricks

and hatchets and hammers and pocket
knives and razors,

and sometimes you'd find them
throwed out of windows and so forth.

Oh, they used to have a wonderful
time here in Memphis, Tennessee.

Nothing but underworld people
dealing and snatching.

Pickpockets, dope fiends,
cocaine fiends and everything.

In February, 1927, my father had
been to Memphis, Tennessee,

which is not exactly the place you'd
think as the nicest place to go to

listen to music, but it was here
that he made the first recordings

of the Memphis Jug Band.

They had a raw taste to them.

They were very unusual and these
recordings made history.

When Ralph Peer and his recording
crew arrived,

they set up their studio in
a warehouse just off Beale Street.

One of the first acts to audition

was Will Shade and the
Memphis Jug Band.

I was going down Beale Street
playing the Memphis Jug Band Blues.

Charlie Wilson at the Beale Street
Palace, he came over to Mr Peer,

RS Peer and a Victor recorder,

and, er, we made the record at
McCall Building on McCall Street.

On the fourth floor
of the McCall Building,

my father and Will Shade started on
a series of recordings.

The first one was called Newport
News Blues and this became a very

important part of the
RCA Victor Race Series now.

We were talking about R&B
at this point in time,

which was a progression
along the type of black music

which was being recorded
at the time.

Negroes would sing a song in
Memphis

and you'd never hear the same
song anyplace else,

because every song was strange
and new to these white man's ears.

# I'm goin' to Newport News, mama

# Gonna catch a battleship
across the doggone sea

# What you goin' over
there for, boy?

# I'm goin' to Newport News, mama

# Gonna catch a battleship
across the doggone sea

# What you gonna do?

# For, Lord, the woman that
I'm lovin', great God, partner

# Do not care for me

# What kind of woman is that?

# And she's got a man on her man

# Done got a kid man
on her she can't kid

# She's got a man on her man

# Done got a kid man
on her she can't kid

# Have mercy, have mercy

# Kid man has got so buggish,
great God, partner,

# Just can't keep it hid

# What are you gonna do with him?

# Ah, don't you wish your easy
roller, partner

# Was little and cute like mine?

# I sure do, boy

# Ah, don't you wish your easy
roller, partner

# Was little and cute like mine?

# For every time she walks

# Lord, she sure brings that
jack to town

# I sure wanna see her. #

Will Shade learned Newport News from
an old Memphis musician

named Tiwi Blackman, but his musical
roots went much deeper.

I remember Will Shade telling me
that he learned harmonica

from his mom and his mom grew up
in slavery.

I started from a kid up.

I first remember when my mother
singing On The Road Again.

"Natural born eastman on the road
again."

# I would not black woman
Tell you the reason why Why?

# Black woman's evil
Do things on the sly No!

# You look for your supper
to be good and hot

# She never put a neckbone
in the pot

# She's on the road again

# Just as sure as you're born

# Lord, a natural born eastman
on the road again

# She's on the road again

# Sure as you're born

# Lord, a natural born eastman
on the road again

# I went to my window
My window was propped

# I went to my door
My door was locked

# I stepped right back
I shook my head

# A big black nigger
in my folding bed

# I shot through the window
I broke the glass

# I never seen a little nigger
run so fast

# She's on the road again

# Sure as you're born

# Lord, a natural born eastman
on the road again... #

Well, the Memphis Jug Band,

it sounds like something today and
these guys are talking about women,

carrying guns,
protecting their honour,

chasing after some woman
who's done them dirty.

This is not high society black
folks, this is the down under.

You know, street, wild black folk
that they're singing about.

It's the same as today,
it's the same as rap music today.

# She's on the road again

# Sure as you're born
A natural-born eastman

# On the road again

# She's on the road again

# Sure as you're born
A natural-born eastman

# On the road again

# Your friend at your house
just to rest his hat

# Next thing, he wanna know
where your husband's at

# She says, "I don't know,
he's on his way to the pen."

# Come on, Mama, let's get
on the road again

# She's on the road again
Sure as you're born... #

This music from Memphis,

they were rapping about street life
and gangster life and hustling,

and just a dark side of the world.

# I would not black woman
Let me tell you why Why?

# Black woman's evil
Do things on the sly No!

# You look for your supper to
be good and hot Hot!

# She'll never put
the neck-bone in the pot

# She's on the road again... #

It just goes to show me that rapping
is a natural, poetic thing.

It's always been here.

As long as there was English and
black people,

you know what I'm saying,
there was rap.

The Memphis Jug Band, they wanted
everybody to like what they were

doing, so they wanted to have a real
wide arsenal of tunes.

And I believe black and white people
bought their records because

they played all kinds of stuff, like
waltzes, blues, popular tunes,

but in the setting of a jug band.

They got so famous that Mayor Crump
used them for his campaign.

Will Shade wrote a tune
for Mayor Crump

It was a big hit for Mayor Crump
and for the Memphis Jug Band

and got Crump elected.

Will Shade told me that he once
played for the President.

I forget which one, it might have
been one of the Roosevelts.

# That woman I'm lovin'
She just my height and size

# She's a married woman
Come to see me sometimes

# If you don't believe I love ya
Look what a fool I've been

# If you don't believe I'm sinking
Look what a hole I'm in

# I'm stealing, stealing

# Pretty mama, don't you tell on me

# I'm stealing back to my
same old used-to-be

# I'm stealing, stealing

# Pretty mama, don't you tell on me

# I'm stealing back to my
same old used-to-be

Will Shade's success established
Memphis as a vibrant new

African-American recording centre.

And, as a talent scout for Victor
Records, he helped launch the

careers of performers like Memphis
Minnie, Furry Lewis and Gus Cannon.

My father made a very close personal
friendship with Will Shade and,

in fact, employed him for a number
of years to be his eyes and ears

in the Memphis part of the world.

Will Shade was real proud to be
associated with Victor and Mr Peer

would always send him money whenever
Will Shade said, I'm a little short
this week, or this month,

I need some rent money.

So, I guess he made a lot of money
for Victor and Mr Peer.

People wanted to work with
Will Shade, he was so respected.

He was the Memphis Jug Band.

I mean, he could have replaced
anybody in the band,

got other musicians - it would
still be the Memphis Jug Band

with his sound, his music,
his ideas.

It was his vision.

# Cocaine habit is mighty bad

# It's the worst old habit
that I ever had

# Hey, hey, honey,
take a whiff on me

# I love my whisky
and I love my gin

# But the way I love my coke
is a dog-gone sin

# Hey, hey, honey,
take a whiff on me

# It takes a little coke
to give me ease

# Strut my stuff long as you please

# Hey, hey, honey,
take a whiff on me

# Let's all take a whiff
on Hattie now

# Hey, hey
Hey, hey

# Hey, hey-ey
Hey-ey-ey. #

Cocaine Habit, cracked me up.

Here's the subject.

# Cocaine habit... #
Right on top of that.

# Cocaine habit, now, ain't so bad

# It's the worst damn habit
I ever did have

# Hey, hey, hey

# Baby, take a whiff on me. #

These are the kinds of sliding in
and out.

Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da
de-da-da-da-da-di-da,

la-da-da-di-da-da-di-da.

# I went to Mr Beaman's in a lope

# Sign on the window saying
"No more dope"

# Say, hey, hey

# Honey, take a whiff on me... #

It just tells you something about
American culture,

American music and, you know,

when they look down on hip-hop music
and look down..

..because of the words that we use,
and stuff like that,

it didn't start with hip-hop,
this started a long time ago.

This started with America.

As blues gave way to swing and R&B,

the Memphis Jug Band
faded from view.

When I met Will Shade, I was 18.

I loved his music,

I'm hanging out at Will Shade's
house every chance I can.

There was a two-storey
apartment building,

it had one bathroom at the end of
the hall for each floor

and he had the last two rooms
upstairs and a potbelly stove.

I remember him cooking, in fact,
the best hamburger

I ever had in my life,
Will Shade cooked it.

I had the impression that Will Shade
was important and famous

just by all the people that came by
all the time to talk to him

and you could tell by the way they
talked to him that

they revered him and looked up to
him and respected him greatly.

# I ain't got no stockings
I ain't got no shoes

# All I've got is the
Memphis Jug Band blues... #

On one hand, I mean, it was really
poor, I mean, like, squalor.

On the other hand, it was this
energetic, totally alive,

wonderful place to be.

And Will would sit by the window in
a chair so he could see everybody

coming up and down the alley.

And if there was a musician, maybe
he'd come up and play something.

# And if you meet the devil

# He asks you how you do

# I'm on my way to heaven
Don't you wanna go, too?

# Know there's a place

# I'd do just as well

# They call White Wash Dishes
ten miles from hell... #

And Will Shade became one of my best
teachers for harmonica and guitar,

and we would just sit around
and he'd play whatever

he felt like playing.
And I'd play along with him.

He just loved it that I was
interested in learning his music.

It's hard to put into words.

In some ways, he's like a father,
in some ways he's like a brother,

and in other ways,
he's just a good friend.

In the 1950s, a young Memphis
musician fused the rhythms

of Beale Street with a country
twang of Bristol

to ignite a new
Big Bang called rock and roll.

# Well, I've got a gal
that I love so

# I'm ready, ready, ready

# I'm ready, ready, I'm ready

# I'm ready, ready, ready

# I'm ready, ready, ready
to rock and roll... #

The first recordings of the Memphis
Jug Band were, in their own way,

a Big Bang of R&B music.

Will Shade came up with a lot of
different types of music

from a lot of different people.

And this music remained a permanent
influence on American R&B.

Will Shade had a tremendous effect
on American music.

But he would see other Memphis
singers,

you know, getting recognition,
and he thought there was still

a chance as long as he was alive
and able to play

that he might get one more break.

I think he...that was
a dream of his.

All the times I would
visit Will Shade,

he would always play this song.

And if it was not his favourite,
it was one of his favourites.

It was
Well, I'll Get A Break Some Day.

# Mississippi River

# So deep and wide

# Woman that I'm loving

# She's on that other side

# But I'll get a break

# Yes, somewhere

# My lovely one... #

You know, when he died in 1966,
he really didn't have anything.

And most people really
didn't remember his music.

But, today, all these years later...

..right down on Beale Street
in front of Handy Park,

there's a brass note with
Will Shade's name right on.

# When I had money

# I had friends for miles around

# Now I'm broke, ragged and hungry

# None of my friends can be found

# But I'll get a break

# Yes, somewhere

# My lovely one. #

# Ever since my sin

# Was taken away

# My heart keeps singing

# Singing, singing all night... #

# Lord, I'll die with my hammer
in my hands, I'll die

# Lord, I'll die with my hammer
in my hands... #

# I'm goin' away to a world unknown

# I'm goin' away to
a world unknown... #

My aunt Bessie would say that
Charley Patton

was the ultimate showman.

I'll say it like she said it -
he could pick the guitar...

with his mouth, with his hands,
behind his back, crawling,

laying on the floor,

simulating different acts on stage.

He was like a one-man band.

It's really hard to know
how far-reaching the influence

of Charley Patton is.

I mean, he influenced the first
generation of Delta guys.

You know, guys like Muddy Waters,
BB King, and John Lee Hooker.

But his big thumbprint
is on Howlin' Wolf.

Wolf clearly states that he went
over to Patton

and sat down and
Patton showed him his tunes

and the way he played them.

You can't get that unless
you're right next to him.

You had to be able to watch him play
it every night.

For several every nights.

Tell us something about it.
When we first started playing

together, we started playing because
we wanted to play rhythm and blues,

and Howlin' Wolf was
one of our greatest idols.

So I think it's about time you shut
up and we had Howlin' Wolf on stage.

I agree!

# You couldn't believe a word
I say... #

# John Henry told his captain

# Man ain't nothin' but a man

# Before I be beaten by
this old steam drill

# I'm gonna die with my hammer
in my hand, Lord, Lord

# Die with my hammer in my hand... #

They recorded six songs

and they got paid $25 a song.

And that was all,
no royalties or anything.

They just got paid $25 a song,
and that was it.

Makes a lot of difference in getting
paid 50 cents a coal car, you know.

Dad worked in the coal mines
all of his life.

From what I heard, he started,

like, when he was 13 years old.

One time, Dad took me down in one,
maybe two miles.

And I didn't want no more.

I said, "Get me back out of here."

It's an eerie feeling, man,
all that dirt overhead.

# Old black dog when I'm gone,
Lord, Lord

# Old black dog when I'm gone

# When I come back with a $10 bill

# And it's, "Honey, where you been
so long...?" #

It was dangerous just to go in,
let alone work in it.

You know, there was a lot of mining
accidents back then.

My dad told me, every time you go
down at that time,

you were just taking your life
in your own hands.

# Then taken away

# My heart keeps singing

# Singing, singing on all night

# Then Jesus washed

# In his blood

# My heart keeps singing

# Singing, singing all night

In the 1920s, Triumph Church,
church in general, period...

..was everything.
Because everything was segregated,

and the blacks
went to their churches,

whites went to their churches,

and the black people back in
that day didn't have much.

The only thing that they had was -
by the church -

was hope for the future.

Hoping that there would be a better
day coming than what they were

experiencing at that
very present time.

# I'm singing

# I'm singing
I'm singing

# I'm singing

# Singing

# Singing for the Lord

# I'm singing

# I'm singing
I'm gonna sing my song!

# I'm gonna sing, I'm gonna sing,
I'm gonna sing,

# I'm singing
Oh, yes, I'm singing

# I'm singing
Help me, please

# I'm singing... #

In that era, music was
a break from reality.

Reality was you're a sharecropper,

you're working hard every day
of your life.

And it gives you an opportunity
to get a break from that

hard day-to-day work. That's why
it's so impactful, even to this day.

And we've always found a way
to scream through the music.

# I'm told, baby

# That you ain't
never loved me right. #