SOUND PROJECTIONS
AN ONLINE QUARTERLY MUSIC MAGAZINE
EDITOR: KOFI NATAMBU
WINTER, 2019
VOLUME SIX NUMBER THREE
ANTHONY BRAXTON
Featuring the Musics and Aesthetic Visions of:
ISAAC HAYES
(December 29—January 4)
THOM BELL
(January 5-11)
THE STYLISTICS
(January 12-18)
THE O’JAYS
(January 19-25)
OTIS REDDING
(January 26-February 1)
BOOKER T. JONES
(February 2-8)
THE STAPLE SINGERS
(February 9-15)
OTIS RUSH
(February 16-22)
ERROLL GARNER
(February 23-March 1)
EARL HINES
(March 2-8)
BO DIDDLEY
(March 9-15)
BIG BILL BROONZY
(March 16-22)
Big Bill Broonzy was born William Lee Conley Broonzy in the tiny town of Scott, Mississippi, just across the river from Arkansas. During his childhood, Broonzy's family -- itinerant sharecroppers and the descendants of ex-slaves -- moved to Pine Bluff to work the fields there. Broonzy learned to play a cigar box fiddle from his uncle, and as a teenager, he played violin in local churches, at community dances, and in a country string band. During World War I, Broonzy enlisted in the U.S. Army, and in 1920 he moved to Chicago and worked in the factories for several years. In 1924 he met Papa Charlie Jackson, a New Orleans native and pioneer blues recording artist for Paramount. Jackson took Broonzy under his wing, taught him guitar, and used him as an accompanist. Broonzy's entire first session at Paramount in 1926 was rejected, but he returned in November 1927 and succeeded in getting his first record, House Rent Stomp, onto Paramount wax. As one of his early records came out with the garbled moniker of Big Bill Broomsley, he decided to shorten his recording name to Big Bill, and this served as his handle on records until after the second World War. Among aliases used for Big Bill on his early releases were Big Bill Johnson, Sammy Sampson, and Slim Hunter.
Broonzy's earliest records do not demonstrate real promise, but this would soon change. In 1930, the Hokum Boys broke up, and Georgia Tom Dorsey decided to keep the act going by bringing in Big Bill and guitarist Frank Brasswell to replace Tampa Red, billing themselves as "the Famous Hokum Boys." With Georgia Tom and Brasswell, Broonzy hit his stride and penned his first great blues original, "I Can't Be Satisfied." This was a hit and helped make his name with record companies. Although only half-a-dozen blues artists made any records during 1932, the worst year in the history of the record business, one of them was Big Bill, who made 20 issued sides that year.
Through Georgia Tom and Tampa Red, Big Bill met Memphis Minnie and toured as her second guitarist in the early '30s, but apparently did not record with her. When he did resume recording in March 1934 it was for Bluebird's newly established Chicago studio under the direction of Lester Melrose. Melrose liked Broonzy's style, and before long, Big Bill would begin working as Melrose's unofficial second-in-command, auditioning artists, matching numbers to performers, booking sessions, and providing backup support to other musicians. He played on literally hundreds of records for Bluebird in the late '30s and into the '40s, including those made by his half-brother, Washboard Sam, Peter Chatman (aka Memphis Slim), John Lee "Sonny Boy" Williamson, and others. With Melrose, Broonzy helped develop the "Bluebird beat," connoting a type of popular blues record that incorporated trap drums and upright string bass. This was the precursor of the "Maxwell Street sound" or "postwar Chicago blues," and helped to redefine the music in a format that would prove popular in the cities. Ironically, while Broonzy was doing all this work for Melrose at Bluebird, his own recordings as singer were primarily made for ARC, and later Columbia's subsidiary Okeh. This was his greatest period, and during this time Broonzy wrote and recorded such songs as "Key to the Highway," "W.P.A. Blues," "All by Myself," and "Unemployment Stomp." For other artists, Broonzy wrote songs such as "Diggin' My Potatoes." All told, Big Bill Broonzy had a hand in creating more than 100 original songs.
When promoter John Hammond sought a traditional blues singer to perform at one of his Spirituals to Swing concerts held at Carnegie Hall in New York City, he was looking for Robert Johnson to foot the bill. Hammond learned that Johnson had recently died, and as a result, Big Bill got the nod to appear at Carnegie Hall on February 5, 1939. This appearance was very well received, and earned Broonzy a role in George Seldes' 1939 film Swingin' the Dream alongside Louis Armstrong and Benny Goodman. In the early '40s, Big Bill appeared at the Café Society, the Village Vanguard, and the Apollo Theater, in addition to touring with Lil Greenwood, all of which kept Big Bill busy during the AFM recording ban. By the mid- to late '40s, the operation in Chicago with Melrose had finally begun to wind down, just as electric blues started to heat up. Big Bill continued to record for labels ranging from majors Columbia and Mercury to fly-by-nights such as Hub and RPM. In 1949, Broonzy decided to take some time off from music, and got a job working as a janitor at the Iowa State University of Science & Technology in Ames.
In 1951 Broonzy was sought out by DJ and writer Studs Terkel and appeared in the latter's concert series I Come for to Sing. Suddenly, Broonzy started to get a lot of press attention, and by September of that year, he was in Paris recording for French Vogue. On this occasion Broonzy was finally able to wax his tune "Black, Brown and White," a song about race relations that had been in his book for years, but every record company he had ever sung it for had turned it down. In Europe, Broonzy proved incredibly popular, more so than at any time in the United States. Two separate documentary films were made on his life, in France and Belgium, respectively, and from 1951 until ill health finally put him out of the running in the fall of 1957, Broonzy nearly doubled his own 1927-1949 output in terms of new recordings.
Broonzy updated his act by adding traditional folk songs to his set, along the lines of what Josh White and Leadbelly had done in then-recent times. He took a tremendous amount of flak for doing so, as blues purists condemned Broonzy for turning his back on traditional blues style in order to concoct shows that were appealing to white tastes. But this misses the point of his whole life's work: Broonzy was always about popularizing blues, and he was the main pioneer in the entrepreneurial spirit as it applies to the field. His songwriting, producing, and work as a go-between with Lester Melrose is exactly the sort of thing that Willie Dixon would do with Chess in the '50s. This was the part of his career that Broonzy himself valued most highly, and his latter-day fame and popularity were a just reward for a life spent working so hard on behalf of his given discipline and fellow musicians. It would be a short reward, though; just about the time the autobiography he had written with Yannick Bruynoghe, Big Bill Blues, appeared in 1955, he learned he had throat cancer. Big Bill Broonzy died at age 65 in August, 1958, and left a recorded legacy which, in sheer size and depth, well exceeds that of any blues artist born on his side of the year 1900.
https://musicians.allaboutjazz.com/bigbillbroonzy
Although William Lee Conley “Big Bill” Broonzy achieved fame and success in the Chicago blues scene and the folk revival in the United States and abroad, some of his earliest encounters with the blues and his earliest experiences as a performer and song writer were in Arkansas. Born in Scott, Mississippi, on June, 26 1893, to Frank Broonzy and Mittie Belcher, Big Bill Broonzy was one of seventeen children. Broonzy soon moved with his family to the Pine Bluff area (Jefferson County), where he spent most of his childhood years. He began performing music at an early age, playing for social and church events on the fiddle, which he learned from his uncle, Jerry Belcher. In addition to odd jobs as a musician, Broonzy also served briefly as a pastor in the Pine Bluff area before 1918.
Between the years 1917 and 1919, Broonzy served in the U.S. Army and was stationed in Europe. After his discharge in 1919, Broonzy returned to Arkansas for a brief time, playing in clubs around the Little Rock (Pulaski County) and Pine Bluff areas. In the early 1920s, Broonzy moved to Chicago, Illinois, where he switched instruments to the guitar, taught to him by Papa Charlie Jackson, and began a prolific recording career under the Paramount, Columbia, Bluebird, Okeh, and Chess record labels. Examples of his recording career can be found on numerous compilations. The most comprehensive collection is the twelve-volume anthology of “The Complete Works of Big Bill Broonzy,” which was produced by Document Records beginning in 1994.
Influenced by musicians such as Jimmie Rodgers, Blind Blake, Son House, and Blind Lemon Jefferson, Broonzy developed an amalgamated form of the blues. By combining ragtime and hokum blues with country blues, he created a style that foreshadowed the post�”World War II Chicago sound, which was later defined by such artists as Muddy Waters and Willie Dixon.
In 1938, Broonzy filled in for Robert Johnson, who had died unexpectedly, at the Spirituals to Swing Concert produced by John Hammond at Carnegie Hall. The fame achieved from this event and a follow-up concert in 1939 established Broonzy as a key figure in the Chicago blues scene. While in Chicago, Broonzy recorded more than three hundred songs and remained a popular and well-respected artist throughout the 1940s. His prolific musical output is evident from his fruitful solo career and his collaborations with other artists, such as Sonny Boy Williamson and Brownie McGhee.
With the rise of electric blues in the early 1950s, Broonzy became an active supporter of the folk blues genre. He played a Martin model 00028, a beautiful instrument. Bill played one of these from the 1950s to his death in 1958. In 1951, Broonzy took his first tour of Europe, where he was met with enthusiasm and appreciation. His appearances in Europe introduced the blues to European audiences and were especially influential in London’s emerging skiffle and rock blues scene. Broonzy’s success also set the stage for later blues artists such as Sonny Boy Williamson II and Muddy Waters to play European venues. Broonzy toured Europe again in 1955 and 1957.
Broonzy’s autobiography, Big Hill Blues, was published with the aid of Danish writer Yannick Bruynoghe in 1955. Shortly after his final tour in 1957, Broonzy was diagnosed with throat and lung cancer. He continued to perform until his death on August 14, 1958, in Chicago. Broonzy was inducted into the Blues Foundation Hall of Fame in 1980.
Source: James Nadal
SCOTT SIMON, Host:
From member station WCPN, David C. Barnett has the story of a performer who survived by constantly reinventing himself.
DAVID C: The man who came to be known as Big Bill Broonzy arrived in Chicago sometime in the early 1920s, playing acoustic country blues.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
BARNETT: Musician Billy Boy Arnold was a teenager when he first saw Broonzy at a club, two decades later.
BILLY ARNOLD: This big giant of a guy came in the doorway with a guitar in his hand.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
ARNOLD: And he was muscular - he wasn't fat. Black as midnight, you know, and drank and, you know, and seemed to be a very jolly guy.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "I LOVE MY WHISKEY")
BIG BILL BROONZY AND HIS FAT FOUR: (Singing) I love my whiskey, and I got a quarter right here in my hand...
BARNETT: Broonzy became the king of the Chicago blues scene but the king was about to lose his crown.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
BARNETT: A younger generation of blues performers was starting to pack audiences into South Side clubs. Billy Arnold says everything changed in 1950 with the release of Muddy Waters' "Rollin' Stone."
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "ROLLIN' STONE")
MUDDY WATERS: (Singing) I went to my baby's house, and I sit down, oh, on her steps...
ARNOLD: It was real powerful and as lowdown as you could get. And the people really liked that 'cause that's what they feel in they heart, see?
BARNETT: So, Big Bill Broonzy changed his musical direction. Chicago was home to a growing folk scene, fueled by young, white intellectuals. It was a time when performers were using music as a tool for social change, and Broonzy was inspired to write what would become one of his most memorable songs.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "BLACK, BROWN AND WHITE BLUES")
BILL BROONZY AND HIS FAT FOUR: (Singing) This little song that I'm singing about, people you all know it's true. If you're black and gotta work for a living, now this is what they will say to you. They says, if you's white, you're alright. If you's brown, stick around. But if you's black, oh brother, get back, get back, get back.
BARNETT: Billy Arnold wasn't very fond of his old friend's new direction.
ARNOLD: I didn't like the folk stuff he was doing. And he didn't play that Jimmy Crack Corn in no black clubs, 'cause that wouldn't have went over no kind of way.
BARNETT: Broonzy biographer Bob Riesman thinks that the singer's new focus was just a demonstration of his versatility and his instinct for survival.
BOB RIESMAN: I don't think he would have seen that as compromising his integrity in any way. He was a working musician.
BARNETT: But Broonzy changed more than his musical style. Throughout his life, the singer also altered parts of his personal history.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
BARNETT: During a lengthy recording session in 1957, he told some compelling stories about his childhood in rural Mississippi and about the roots of his music.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
BILL BROONZY AND HIS FAT FOUR: My mother was a slave, my father was a slave, and I'm just going by what I got from them about different songs.
BARNETT: But Bob Riesman says the singer didn't really come from Mississippi, his parents were not slaves and his name wasn't Broonzy.
RIESMAN: It turned out that he was Lee Bradley of Jefferson County, Arkansas, about 60 miles or so southeast of Little Rock.
BARNETT: After 10 years of research, Riesman says he's come to reconcile the facts of Broonzy's life with the stories he told.
RIESMAN: He treated his life story as a set of fluid possibilities, as opposed to fixed events. And his imaginative powers were formidable. As Studs Terkel said, Bill is telling the truth - his truth.
BARNETT: By the mid-1950s, Bill Broonzy was captivating audiences across the U.S. and Europe with his songs and stories.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
BARNETT: But his newfound success wouldn't last much longer. The singer's health started to deteriorate...
(SOUNDBITE OF COUGHING)
BARNETT: ...due to a cancer that was spreading through his lungs.
STUDS TERKEL: Bill, you want to hear how this sounds?
BILL BROONZY AND HIS FAT FOUR: Yeah, I did, yeah, if it ain't too horrible.
BARNETT: Chicago radio personality Studs Terkel oversaw Broonzy's final recording session, which had been set up by a Cleveland disc jockey. Bill Randle was nationally famous as a pop music hit-maker, having boosted the careers of the Crew Cuts and Pat Boone. In a 1999 interview, the late Randle said financing the Broonzy sessions was partially an act of penitence.
BILL RANDLE: In the course of it, I guess I developed what you would call a cultural guilt complex. And also I had the money. So, I decided that I would just do some things that I thought should be done, and one of them was to record Big Bill Broonzy. I didn't know that he was sick.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "KEY TO THE HIGHWAY")
BILL BROONZY AND HIS FAT FOUR: (Singing) I've got the key to the highway, yes, I'm billed out and bound to go. I'm gonna leave, leave here runnin' 'cause walk is most too slow...
BARNETT: The morning after the final session, Broonzy went into the hospital. He died about a year later. His funeral was an event. Gospel great Mahalia Jackson sang a hymn. His pall bearers included Muddy Waters, Tampa Red, Studs Terkel and Chicago folk legend Win Stracke. Stracke's daughter Jane recalls that this image of racial harmony was deliberately designed.
JANE STRACKE: My father made sure that there would be three white pall bearers and three black pallbearers. And he did it very consciously. He wanted it to be kind of a lesson.
BARNETT: As the crowd at the Metropolitan Funeral Parlor sat in quiet reflection, the room filled with the sound of Broonzy himself singing a spiritual, taken from the Randle recording session.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "SWING LOW, SWEET CHARIOT")
BILL BROONZY AND HIS FAT FOUR: (Singing) Swing low, sweet chariot, coming for to carry me home...
BARNETT: Standing at Broonzy's grave in Chicago's Lincoln Cemetery, biographer Bob Riesman says the singer's final encore did not go unnoticed.
RIESMAN: The reporters for both of the Chicago newspapers used exactly the same phrase, which was: Big Bill Broonzy sang at his own funeral.
BARNETT: (Soundbite of song, "Swing Low. Sweet Chariot")
BILL BROONZY AND HIS FAT FOUR: (Singing) ...of angels calling to me, coming for to carry me home.
BARNETT: For NPR News, I'm David C. Barnett.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "SWING LOW, SWEET CHARIOT")
BILL BROONZY AND HIS FAT FOUR: (Singing) Oh, you...
SIMON: This is WEEKEND EDITION from NPR News. I'm Scott Simon.
Alan Lomax collection (AFC 2004/004), American Folklife Center
https://www.mswritersandmusicians.com/mississippi-musicians/big-bill-broonzy
William Lee Conley Broonzy, one of the masters of country blues, was born in Scott, Mississippi, on June 26, 1893. However, one source says Broonzy had a twin sister name Lannie Broonzy, who says she has proof that she was born in 1898, on June 26. This information would have proved that Broonzy was five years younger than he pretended. Big Bill was the son of Frank Broonzy and Mittie Belcher, who had seventeen other children (Bruynoghe 9). During this time period, many black men added years to their age either to get a job or join the military, so the exact date of Broonzy’s birth is not clear (Barnwell 317).
Broonzy’s life as a child was hard because he received only minimal schooling. He had to quit school to help his sharecropping family around the house. Before he moved to Arkansas, Broonzy learned how to play the fiddle from his uncle Jerry Belcher. At the age of fourteen, he started working for tips at country dances, picnics, and he played for the church (Broonzy). During the years 1912-1917, Broonzy worked part time as a preacher and violinist.
Then Broonzy served in the US Army during World War I. After his discharge, he returned back to Arkansas. This is the time when he decided that farming was not what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. He wanted to make his living as a guitar player and singer. In 1924, Broonzy moved to Chicago to start his music career partly because of all the racism that was happening in the South. Under the guidance of Papa Charlie Jackson, Broonzy learned how to play the guitar. In the 1930’s Broonzy became known as one of the major artists on the Chicago Blues scene. During this time he performed with other top blues artist in Chicago– like Memphis Minnie, Tampa Red, Jazz Gillum, Lonnie Johnson, and John Lee “Sonny Boy” Williamson. Also, while trying to make it in the music business, he worked as a janitor and maintenance man (Big Bill Broonzy).
In 1938 Broonzy performed at John Hammond’s famous Spiritual and Swing concert at Carnegie Hall in New York City. This was the first time that he had ever performed in front of a white audience. After the concert, people started calling him “Big Bill” Broonzy. At this time Broonzy received newfound fame as the father of Chicago blues.(Broonzy). He was one of the best known blues players and recorded over 260 blues songs including Feelin’ Low Down, Remember Big Bill, Make Me Getaway, and Big Bill Broonzy Sings Country Blues (Brewer 15). His recording career spanned five long decades as he traveled from Mississippi to Chicago and even to Europe, where he became well-known. There are forty-two of his albums still available (Cox 113).
After the arrival of artists like Muddy Waters and the playing of the electric guitar, Broonzy’s brand of blues was pushed aside. Rather than retire, he changed his style of music to folk blues. In 1951, Broonzy toured Europe where he performed standard blues, traditional folk tunes, and spirituals to appreciative audiences. The following year Broonzy returned to Europe with pianist Blind John Davis. He opened the doors for other American blues artists to tour there as well. In 1955, with the help of writer Yannick Bruynoghe, he told the story of his life in the book Big Bill Broonzy. This book was originally published in London. Big Bill Broonzy’s book was one of the first autobiographies by a blues man (Big Bill Broonzy). In 1957, William Lee Conley Broonzy was diagnosed with throat cancer. He continued to perform, although he had with great pain, until he died of throat cancer on August 15, 1958. In 1980, he was inducted into the Blues Foundation’s Hall of Fame (Cox 113).
https://www.press.uchicago.edu/books/riesman/index.html
I Feel So Good: The Life and Times of Big Bill Broonzy
©2011, 328 pages, 31 halftones
Cloth $27.50 ISBN: 9780226717456 • Buy print book at 20% discount.
E-book edition is forthcoming on our website and from other e-book sources.
Big Bill Broonzy
(1893-1958)
Artist Biography by Uncle Dave Lewis
Big Bill Broonzy was born William Lee Conley Broonzy in the tiny town of Scott, Mississippi, just across the river from Arkansas. During his childhood, Broonzy's family -- itinerant sharecroppers and the descendants of ex-slaves -- moved to Pine Bluff to work the fields there. Broonzy learned to play a cigar box fiddle from his uncle, and as a teenager, he played violin in local churches, at community dances, and in a country string band. During World War I, Broonzy enlisted in the U.S. Army, and in 1920 he moved to Chicago and worked in the factories for several years. In 1924 he met Papa Charlie Jackson, a New Orleans native and pioneer blues recording artist for Paramount. Jackson took Broonzy under his wing, taught him guitar, and used him as an accompanist. Broonzy's entire first session at Paramount in 1926 was rejected, but he returned in November 1927 and succeeded in getting his first record, House Rent Stomp, onto Paramount wax. As one of his early records came out with the garbled moniker of Big Bill Broomsley, he decided to shorten his recording name to Big Bill, and this served as his handle on records until after the second World War. Among aliases used for Big Bill on his early releases were Big Bill Johnson, Sammy Sampson, and Slim Hunter.
Broonzy's earliest records do not demonstrate real promise, but this would soon change. In 1930, the Hokum Boys broke up, and Georgia Tom Dorsey decided to keep the act going by bringing in Big Bill and guitarist Frank Brasswell to replace Tampa Red, billing themselves as "the Famous Hokum Boys." With Georgia Tom and Brasswell, Broonzy hit his stride and penned his first great blues original, "I Can't Be Satisfied." This was a hit and helped make his name with record companies. Although only half-a-dozen blues artists made any records during 1932, the worst year in the history of the record business, one of them was Big Bill, who made 20 issued sides that year.
Through Georgia Tom and Tampa Red, Big Bill met Memphis Minnie and toured as her second guitarist in the early '30s, but apparently did not record with her. When he did resume recording in March 1934 it was for Bluebird's newly established Chicago studio under the direction of Lester Melrose. Melrose liked Broonzy's style, and before long, Big Bill would begin working as Melrose's unofficial second-in-command, auditioning artists, matching numbers to performers, booking sessions, and providing backup support to other musicians. He played on literally hundreds of records for Bluebird in the late '30s and into the '40s, including those made by his half-brother, Washboard Sam, Peter Chatman (aka Memphis Slim), John Lee "Sonny Boy" Williamson, and others. With Melrose, Broonzy helped develop the "Bluebird beat," connoting a type of popular blues record that incorporated trap drums and upright string bass. This was the precursor of the "Maxwell Street sound" or "postwar Chicago blues," and helped to redefine the music in a format that would prove popular in the cities. Ironically, while Broonzy was doing all this work for Melrose at Bluebird, his own recordings as singer were primarily made for ARC, and later Columbia's subsidiary Okeh. This was his greatest period, and during this time Broonzy wrote and recorded such songs as "Key to the Highway," "W.P.A. Blues," "All by Myself," and "Unemployment Stomp." For other artists, Broonzy wrote songs such as "Diggin' My Potatoes." All told, Big Bill Broonzy had a hand in creating more than 100 original songs.
When promoter John Hammond sought a traditional blues singer to perform at one of his Spirituals to Swing concerts held at Carnegie Hall in New York City, he was looking for Robert Johnson to foot the bill. Hammond learned that Johnson had recently died, and as a result, Big Bill got the nod to appear at Carnegie Hall on February 5, 1939. This appearance was very well received, and earned Broonzy a role in George Seldes' 1939 film Swingin' the Dream alongside Louis Armstrong and Benny Goodman. In the early '40s, Big Bill appeared at the Café Society, the Village Vanguard, and the Apollo Theater, in addition to touring with Lil Greenwood, all of which kept Big Bill busy during the AFM recording ban. By the mid- to late '40s, the operation in Chicago with Melrose had finally begun to wind down, just as electric blues started to heat up. Big Bill continued to record for labels ranging from majors Columbia and Mercury to fly-by-nights such as Hub and RPM. In 1949, Broonzy decided to take some time off from music, and got a job working as a janitor at the Iowa State University of Science & Technology in Ames.
In 1951 Broonzy was sought out by DJ and writer Studs Terkel and appeared in the latter's concert series I Come for to Sing. Suddenly, Broonzy started to get a lot of press attention, and by September of that year, he was in Paris recording for French Vogue. On this occasion Broonzy was finally able to wax his tune "Black, Brown and White," a song about race relations that had been in his book for years, but every record company he had ever sung it for had turned it down. In Europe, Broonzy proved incredibly popular, more so than at any time in the United States. Two separate documentary films were made on his life, in France and Belgium, respectively, and from 1951 until ill health finally put him out of the running in the fall of 1957, Broonzy nearly doubled his own 1927-1949 output in terms of new recordings.
Broonzy updated his act by adding traditional folk songs to his set, along the lines of what Josh White and Leadbelly had done in then-recent times. He took a tremendous amount of flak for doing so, as blues purists condemned Broonzy for turning his back on traditional blues style in order to concoct shows that were appealing to white tastes. But this misses the point of his whole life's work: Broonzy was always about popularizing blues, and he was the main pioneer in the entrepreneurial spirit as it applies to the field. His songwriting, producing, and work as a go-between with Lester Melrose is exactly the sort of thing that Willie Dixon would do with Chess in the '50s. This was the part of his career that Broonzy himself valued most highly, and his latter-day fame and popularity were a just reward for a life spent working so hard on behalf of his given discipline and fellow musicians. It would be a short reward, though; just about the time the autobiography he had written with Yannick Bruynoghe, Big Bill Blues, appeared in 1955, he learned he had throat cancer. Big Bill Broonzy died at age 65 in August, 1958, and left a recorded legacy which, in sheer size and depth, well exceeds that of any blues artist born on his side of the year 1900.
https://musicians.allaboutjazz.com/bigbillbroonzy
Big Bill Broonzy
Although William Lee Conley “Big Bill” Broonzy achieved fame and success in the Chicago blues scene and the folk revival in the United States and abroad, some of his earliest encounters with the blues and his earliest experiences as a performer and song writer were in Arkansas. Born in Scott, Mississippi, on June, 26 1893, to Frank Broonzy and Mittie Belcher, Big Bill Broonzy was one of seventeen children. Broonzy soon moved with his family to the Pine Bluff area (Jefferson County), where he spent most of his childhood years. He began performing music at an early age, playing for social and church events on the fiddle, which he learned from his uncle, Jerry Belcher. In addition to odd jobs as a musician, Broonzy also served briefly as a pastor in the Pine Bluff area before 1918.
Between the years 1917 and 1919, Broonzy served in the U.S. Army and was stationed in Europe. After his discharge in 1919, Broonzy returned to Arkansas for a brief time, playing in clubs around the Little Rock (Pulaski County) and Pine Bluff areas. In the early 1920s, Broonzy moved to Chicago, Illinois, where he switched instruments to the guitar, taught to him by Papa Charlie Jackson, and began a prolific recording career under the Paramount, Columbia, Bluebird, Okeh, and Chess record labels. Examples of his recording career can be found on numerous compilations. The most comprehensive collection is the twelve-volume anthology of “The Complete Works of Big Bill Broonzy,” which was produced by Document Records beginning in 1994.
Influenced by musicians such as Jimmie Rodgers, Blind Blake, Son House, and Blind Lemon Jefferson, Broonzy developed an amalgamated form of the blues. By combining ragtime and hokum blues with country blues, he created a style that foreshadowed the post�”World War II Chicago sound, which was later defined by such artists as Muddy Waters and Willie Dixon.
In 1938, Broonzy filled in for Robert Johnson, who had died unexpectedly, at the Spirituals to Swing Concert produced by John Hammond at Carnegie Hall. The fame achieved from this event and a follow-up concert in 1939 established Broonzy as a key figure in the Chicago blues scene. While in Chicago, Broonzy recorded more than three hundred songs and remained a popular and well-respected artist throughout the 1940s. His prolific musical output is evident from his fruitful solo career and his collaborations with other artists, such as Sonny Boy Williamson and Brownie McGhee.
With the rise of electric blues in the early 1950s, Broonzy became an active supporter of the folk blues genre. He played a Martin model 00028, a beautiful instrument. Bill played one of these from the 1950s to his death in 1958. In 1951, Broonzy took his first tour of Europe, where he was met with enthusiasm and appreciation. His appearances in Europe introduced the blues to European audiences and were especially influential in London’s emerging skiffle and rock blues scene. Broonzy’s success also set the stage for later blues artists such as Sonny Boy Williamson II and Muddy Waters to play European venues. Broonzy toured Europe again in 1955 and 1957.
Broonzy’s autobiography, Big Hill Blues, was published with the aid of Danish writer Yannick Bruynoghe in 1955. Shortly after his final tour in 1957, Broonzy was diagnosed with throat and lung cancer. He continued to perform until his death on August 14, 1958, in Chicago. Broonzy was inducted into the Blues Foundation Hall of Fame in 1980.
Source: James Nadal
Big Bill Broonzy
The Blues: Chicago 1937-1945
AllMusic Review by arwulf
Released in 2002 by Fremeaux & Associes, The Blues: Chicago 1937-1945 is an exceptionally fine 36-track anthology of recordings made for the ARC, Vocalion, Okeh, and Columbia labels by Big Bill Broonzy during a period when he collaborated with some of the Windy City's most sure-footed players. In addition to pianists Blind John Davis, Joshua Altheimer, Horace Malcolm, Memphis Slim, and Big Maceo Merriweather, Broonzy is heard with trumpeters Punch Miller and Alfred Bell; clarinetist Odell Rand, saxophonists Buster Bennett and Bill Osborne; blues harpist Jazz Gillum, and a jug blower by the name of Oliver Nelson. Listen also for electrically amplified guitarist George Barnes, bassists Ransom Knowling and Bill Settles; and percussionists Judge Riley, Fred Williams, and Washboard Sam. Fremeaux's selections are generally well chosen, and on this, the label's only Broonzy
collection to date, the records document his progress from the late
'30s into a decade when the world became convulsed by war and the
accelerated pace of life began to be reflected in the music. In essence,
the period sampled on this collection was Broonzy's
first golden age. During the '50s he would become a living archetype of
the blues in his own land and especially in Europe. While his way of
handling the guitar was always substantial and pleasant, the main reason
to listen to Big Bill
is to absorb the incredible magic of his warm and expressive voice.
This double-disc set is recommended for anyone who loves or would like
to learn to love the blues as it sounded at the end of the Great
Depression and during the Second World War.
https://www.press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/I/bo6701925.html
Big Bill Broonzy was one of America's most popular blues
musicians — a father figure to many blues legends and an acknowledged
influence on rockers such as Eric Clapton and Pete Townshend. Yet Broonzy's life has remained something of a mystery until now. A new biography called I Feel So Good: The Life and Times of Big Bill Broonzy
traces the musician's path from the rural South to the South Side of
Chicago. Author Bob Riesman's decade of research has yielded some
surprising results.
Broonzy landed in Chicago sometime in the early 1920s, playing acoustic country blues. He was an accomplished guitarist, and his sense of showmanship at dances and on his early recordings made him a popular entertainer with black audiences.
Fellow musician Billy Boy Arnold saw Broonzy at a Chicago club two decades later, when Arnold was a teenager.
"This big giant of a guy came in the doorway with a guitar in his hand," Arnold says. "And he was muscular, not fat. Black as midnight. Smiled all the time, and seemed to be a very jolly guy."
By then, the older musician had switched from acoustic to electric guitar and adapted to the slower urban blues style. Broonzy became the king of the Chicago blues scene. But it wasn't long before the king lost his crown.
A younger generation of blues performers was starting to pack audiences into South Side clubs. Arnold says everything changed in 1950 with the release of Muddy Waters' "Rollin' Stone."
"It was real powerful and lowdown as you could get," Arnold says. "And, you see, the people really liked that, 'cause that's what they feel in their heart."
So Big Bill Broonzy changed his musical direction. Chicago was home
to a growing folk scene, fueled by young, white intellectuals. It was a
time when performers were using music as a tool for social change. And
Broonzy was inspired to write what would become one of his most
memorable songs, "Black, Brown and White Blues":
This little song that I'm singing about
People you all know it's true
If you're black and gotta work for a living
This is what they will say to you
They says, "If you're white, you're all right
If you're brown, stick around
But if you're black, oh brother,
Get back, get back get back"
"Black, Brown and White Blues" was probably heard more by white audiences than black. And in spite of the song's pointed critique of discrimination, there were some in the black community who didn't appreciate Broonzy's shift into folk music.
"I didn't like the folk stuff that he was doing," Arnold says. "And he didn't play that 'Jimmy Crack Corn' in no black clubs, because that wouldn't have went over no kind of way."
But Broonzy biographer Bob Riesman says the singer's new focus was just a demonstration of his versatility — and his instinct for survival.
"I don't think he would have seen that as compromising his integrity in any way," Riesman says. "He was a working musician."
Changing The Story
Broonzy changed more than his musical style. Throughout his life, the singer also altered parts of his personal history. During a lengthy recording session in 1957, he told some compelling stories about his childhood in rural Mississippi and about the songs he learned from his parents, who he said were slaves. But Riesman says the singer didn't really come from Mississippi, his parents were not slaves and his name wasn't Broonzy.
"It turned out that he was Lee Bradley of Jefferson County, Ark., about 60 miles southeast of Little Rock," Riesman says.
After 10 years of research, Riesman says he's come to reconcile the facts of Broonzy's life with the stories the musician told.
"He treated his life story as a set of fluid possibilities, as opposed to fixed events," Riesman says. "And his imaginative powers were formidable. As Studs Terkel said, 'Bill is telling the truth — his truth.' "
By the mid-1950s, Broonzy was captivating audiences across the U.S. and Europe with his songs and stories. But his newfound success wouldn't last much longer. The singer's health started to deteriorate due to a cancer that was spreading through his lungs.
A Chicago radio personality, Studs Terkel oversaw Broonzy's final recording session, which had been set up by a Cleveland disc jockey. Bill Randle was nationally famous as a pop-music hit-maker, having boosted the careers of The Crew Cuts and Pat Boone. In a 1999 interview, the late Randle said financing the Broonzy sessions was partially an act of penitence.
"In the course of it, I guess I developed what you would call a cultural guilt complex," Randle said. "And also, I had the money. So I decided that I would just do some things that I thought should be done. And one of them was to record Big Bill Broonzy. I didn't know he was sick."
Lessons In The Afterlife
The morning after the final session, Broonzy went into the hospital; he died about a year later in 1958. His funeral was an event. Gospel great Mahalia Jackson sang a hymn. His pall bearers included Muddy Waters, Tampa Red, Studs Terkel and Chicago folk legend Win Stracke. Stracke's daughter, Jane, recalls that this image of racial harmony was deliberately designed.
"My father made sure that there would be three white pall bearers and three black pallbearers," she says. "And he did it very consciously. He wanted it to be kind of a lesson."
As the crowd at the Metropolitan Funeral Parlor sat in quiet reflection, the room filled with the sound of Broonzy himself, singing a spiritual taken from the Randle recording session.
Standing at Broonzy's grave in Chicago's Lincoln Cemetery, Riesman says the singer's final encore did not go unnoticed.
"The reporters for both of the Chicago newspapers used exactly the same phrase," he says, "which was, 'Big Bill Broonzy sang at his own funeral.' "
At the end of a life that spanned thousands of miles, a range of musical styles and a chameleon-like ability to adapt when others told him not to, Big Bill Broonzy got the last word.
https://www.udiscovermusic.com/stories/big-bill-broonzy-a-sadly-neglected-blues-hero/
https://www.press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/I/bo6701925.html
I Feel So Good
The Life and Times of Big Bill Broonzy
Biography and Letters
Chicago and Illinois
Music: General Music
https://www.npr.org/2011/06/25/137398692/big-bill-broonzy-historys-musical-chameleon
Chicago and Illinois
Music: General Music
https://www.npr.org/2011/06/25/137398692/big-bill-broonzy-historys-musical-chameleon
Big Bill Broonzy: History's Musical Chameleon
Broonzy landed in Chicago sometime in the early 1920s, playing acoustic country blues. He was an accomplished guitarist, and his sense of showmanship at dances and on his early recordings made him a popular entertainer with black audiences.
Fellow musician Billy Boy Arnold saw Broonzy at a Chicago club two decades later, when Arnold was a teenager.
"This big giant of a guy came in the doorway with a guitar in his hand," Arnold says. "And he was muscular, not fat. Black as midnight. Smiled all the time, and seemed to be a very jolly guy."
By then, the older musician had switched from acoustic to electric guitar and adapted to the slower urban blues style. Broonzy became the king of the Chicago blues scene. But it wasn't long before the king lost his crown.
A younger generation of blues performers was starting to pack audiences into South Side clubs. Arnold says everything changed in 1950 with the release of Muddy Waters' "Rollin' Stone."
"It was real powerful and lowdown as you could get," Arnold says. "And, you see, the people really liked that, 'cause that's what they feel in their heart."
This little song that I'm singing about
People you all know it's true
If you're black and gotta work for a living
This is what they will say to you
They says, "If you're white, you're all right
If you're brown, stick around
But if you're black, oh brother,
Get back, get back get back"
"Black, Brown and White Blues" was probably heard more by white audiences than black. And in spite of the song's pointed critique of discrimination, there were some in the black community who didn't appreciate Broonzy's shift into folk music.
"I didn't like the folk stuff that he was doing," Arnold says. "And he didn't play that 'Jimmy Crack Corn' in no black clubs, because that wouldn't have went over no kind of way."
But Broonzy biographer Bob Riesman says the singer's new focus was just a demonstration of his versatility — and his instinct for survival.
"I don't think he would have seen that as compromising his integrity in any way," Riesman says. "He was a working musician."
Changing The Story
Broonzy changed more than his musical style. Throughout his life, the singer also altered parts of his personal history. During a lengthy recording session in 1957, he told some compelling stories about his childhood in rural Mississippi and about the songs he learned from his parents, who he said were slaves. But Riesman says the singer didn't really come from Mississippi, his parents were not slaves and his name wasn't Broonzy.
"It turned out that he was Lee Bradley of Jefferson County, Ark., about 60 miles southeast of Little Rock," Riesman says.
After 10 years of research, Riesman says he's come to reconcile the facts of Broonzy's life with the stories the musician told.
"He treated his life story as a set of fluid possibilities, as opposed to fixed events," Riesman says. "And his imaginative powers were formidable. As Studs Terkel said, 'Bill is telling the truth — his truth.' "
By the mid-1950s, Broonzy was captivating audiences across the U.S. and Europe with his songs and stories. But his newfound success wouldn't last much longer. The singer's health started to deteriorate due to a cancer that was spreading through his lungs.
A Chicago radio personality, Studs Terkel oversaw Broonzy's final recording session, which had been set up by a Cleveland disc jockey. Bill Randle was nationally famous as a pop-music hit-maker, having boosted the careers of The Crew Cuts and Pat Boone. In a 1999 interview, the late Randle said financing the Broonzy sessions was partially an act of penitence.
"In the course of it, I guess I developed what you would call a cultural guilt complex," Randle said. "And also, I had the money. So I decided that I would just do some things that I thought should be done. And one of them was to record Big Bill Broonzy. I didn't know he was sick."
Lessons In The Afterlife
The morning after the final session, Broonzy went into the hospital; he died about a year later in 1958. His funeral was an event. Gospel great Mahalia Jackson sang a hymn. His pall bearers included Muddy Waters, Tampa Red, Studs Terkel and Chicago folk legend Win Stracke. Stracke's daughter, Jane, recalls that this image of racial harmony was deliberately designed.
"My father made sure that there would be three white pall bearers and three black pallbearers," she says. "And he did it very consciously. He wanted it to be kind of a lesson."
As the crowd at the Metropolitan Funeral Parlor sat in quiet reflection, the room filled with the sound of Broonzy himself, singing a spiritual taken from the Randle recording session.
Standing at Broonzy's grave in Chicago's Lincoln Cemetery, Riesman says the singer's final encore did not go unnoticed.
"The reporters for both of the Chicago newspapers used exactly the same phrase," he says, "which was, 'Big Bill Broonzy sang at his own funeral.' "
At the end of a life that spanned thousands of miles, a range of musical styles and a chameleon-like ability to adapt when others told him not to, Big Bill Broonzy got the last word.
https://www.udiscovermusic.com/stories/big-bill-broonzy-a-sadly-neglected-blues-hero/
SCOTT SIMON, Host:
From member station WCPN, David C. Barnett has the story of a performer who survived by constantly reinventing himself.
DAVID C: The man who came to be known as Big Bill Broonzy arrived in Chicago sometime in the early 1920s, playing acoustic country blues.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
BARNETT: Musician Billy Boy Arnold was a teenager when he first saw Broonzy at a club, two decades later.
BILLY ARNOLD: This big giant of a guy came in the doorway with a guitar in his hand.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
ARNOLD: And he was muscular - he wasn't fat. Black as midnight, you know, and drank and, you know, and seemed to be a very jolly guy.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "I LOVE MY WHISKEY")
BIG BILL BROONZY AND HIS FAT FOUR: (Singing) I love my whiskey, and I got a quarter right here in my hand...
BARNETT: Broonzy became the king of the Chicago blues scene but the king was about to lose his crown.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
BARNETT: A younger generation of blues performers was starting to pack audiences into South Side clubs. Billy Arnold says everything changed in 1950 with the release of Muddy Waters' "Rollin' Stone."
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "ROLLIN' STONE")
MUDDY WATERS: (Singing) I went to my baby's house, and I sit down, oh, on her steps...
ARNOLD: It was real powerful and as lowdown as you could get. And the people really liked that 'cause that's what they feel in they heart, see?
BARNETT: So, Big Bill Broonzy changed his musical direction. Chicago was home to a growing folk scene, fueled by young, white intellectuals. It was a time when performers were using music as a tool for social change, and Broonzy was inspired to write what would become one of his most memorable songs.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "BLACK, BROWN AND WHITE BLUES")
BILL BROONZY AND HIS FAT FOUR: (Singing) This little song that I'm singing about, people you all know it's true. If you're black and gotta work for a living, now this is what they will say to you. They says, if you's white, you're alright. If you's brown, stick around. But if you's black, oh brother, get back, get back, get back.
BARNETT: Billy Arnold wasn't very fond of his old friend's new direction.
ARNOLD: I didn't like the folk stuff he was doing. And he didn't play that Jimmy Crack Corn in no black clubs, 'cause that wouldn't have went over no kind of way.
BARNETT: Broonzy biographer Bob Riesman thinks that the singer's new focus was just a demonstration of his versatility and his instinct for survival.
BOB RIESMAN: I don't think he would have seen that as compromising his integrity in any way. He was a working musician.
BARNETT: But Broonzy changed more than his musical style. Throughout his life, the singer also altered parts of his personal history.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
BARNETT: During a lengthy recording session in 1957, he told some compelling stories about his childhood in rural Mississippi and about the roots of his music.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
BILL BROONZY AND HIS FAT FOUR: My mother was a slave, my father was a slave, and I'm just going by what I got from them about different songs.
BARNETT: But Bob Riesman says the singer didn't really come from Mississippi, his parents were not slaves and his name wasn't Broonzy.
RIESMAN: It turned out that he was Lee Bradley of Jefferson County, Arkansas, about 60 miles or so southeast of Little Rock.
BARNETT: After 10 years of research, Riesman says he's come to reconcile the facts of Broonzy's life with the stories he told.
RIESMAN: He treated his life story as a set of fluid possibilities, as opposed to fixed events. And his imaginative powers were formidable. As Studs Terkel said, Bill is telling the truth - his truth.
BARNETT: By the mid-1950s, Bill Broonzy was captivating audiences across the U.S. and Europe with his songs and stories.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
BARNETT: But his newfound success wouldn't last much longer. The singer's health started to deteriorate...
(SOUNDBITE OF COUGHING)
BARNETT: ...due to a cancer that was spreading through his lungs.
STUDS TERKEL: Bill, you want to hear how this sounds?
BILL BROONZY AND HIS FAT FOUR: Yeah, I did, yeah, if it ain't too horrible.
BARNETT: Chicago radio personality Studs Terkel oversaw Broonzy's final recording session, which had been set up by a Cleveland disc jockey. Bill Randle was nationally famous as a pop music hit-maker, having boosted the careers of the Crew Cuts and Pat Boone. In a 1999 interview, the late Randle said financing the Broonzy sessions was partially an act of penitence.
BILL RANDLE: In the course of it, I guess I developed what you would call a cultural guilt complex. And also I had the money. So, I decided that I would just do some things that I thought should be done, and one of them was to record Big Bill Broonzy. I didn't know that he was sick.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "KEY TO THE HIGHWAY")
BILL BROONZY AND HIS FAT FOUR: (Singing) I've got the key to the highway, yes, I'm billed out and bound to go. I'm gonna leave, leave here runnin' 'cause walk is most too slow...
BARNETT: The morning after the final session, Broonzy went into the hospital. He died about a year later. His funeral was an event. Gospel great Mahalia Jackson sang a hymn. His pall bearers included Muddy Waters, Tampa Red, Studs Terkel and Chicago folk legend Win Stracke. Stracke's daughter Jane recalls that this image of racial harmony was deliberately designed.
JANE STRACKE: My father made sure that there would be three white pall bearers and three black pallbearers. And he did it very consciously. He wanted it to be kind of a lesson.
BARNETT: As the crowd at the Metropolitan Funeral Parlor sat in quiet reflection, the room filled with the sound of Broonzy himself singing a spiritual, taken from the Randle recording session.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "SWING LOW, SWEET CHARIOT")
BILL BROONZY AND HIS FAT FOUR: (Singing) Swing low, sweet chariot, coming for to carry me home...
BARNETT: Standing at Broonzy's grave in Chicago's Lincoln Cemetery, biographer Bob Riesman says the singer's final encore did not go unnoticed.
RIESMAN: The reporters for both of the Chicago newspapers used exactly the same phrase, which was: Big Bill Broonzy sang at his own funeral.
BARNETT: (Soundbite of song, "Swing Low. Sweet Chariot")
BILL BROONZY AND HIS FAT FOUR: (Singing) ...of angels calling to me, coming for to carry me home.
BARNETT: For NPR News, I'm David C. Barnett.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "SWING LOW, SWEET CHARIOT")
BILL BROONZY AND HIS FAT FOUR: (Singing) Oh, you...
SIMON: This is WEEKEND EDITION from NPR News. I'm Scott Simon.
Copyright © 2011 NPR. All rights reserved. Visit our website terms of use and permissions pages at www.npr.org for further information.
NPR transcripts are created on a rush deadline by Verb8tm, Inc.,
an NPR contractor, and produced using a proprietary transcription
process developed with NPR. This text may not be in its final form and
may be updated or revised in the future. Accuracy and availability may
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The Invention and Reinvention of Big Bill Broonzy
by Kevin D. Greene
242 pp., 6.125 x 9.25, 10 halftones, notes, bibl., index
- Paperback ISBN: 978-1-4696-4649-7
Published: November 2018 - Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-4696-4648-0
Published: November 2018 - eBook ISBN: 978-1-4696-4650-3
Published: September 2018
Buy this Book
- E-Book $22.99
-
For Professors:
Over the course of his long career, legendary bluesman William “Big Bill” Broonzy (1893–1958) helped shape the trajectory of the genre, from its roots in the rural Mississippi River Delta, through its rise as a popular genre in the North, to its eventual international acclaim. Along the way, Broonzy adopted an evolving personal and professional identity, tailoring his self-presentation to the demands of the place and time. His remarkable professional fluidity mirrored the range of expectations from his audiences, whose ideas about race, national belonging, identity, and the blues were refracted through Broonzy as if through a prism. Kevin D. Greene argues that Broonzy's popular success testifies to his ability to navigate the cultural expectations of his different audiences. However, this constant reinvention came at a personal and professional cost. Using Broonzy's multifaceted career, Greene situates blues performance at the center of understanding African American self-presentation and racial identity in the first half of the twentieth century.
Through Broonzy's life and times, Greene assesses major themes and events in African American history, including the Great Migration, urbanization, and black expatriate encounters with European culture consumers. Drawing on a range of historical source materials as well as oral histories and personal archives held by Broonzy's son, Greene perceptively interrogates how notions of race, gender, and audience reception continue to shape concepts of folk culture and musical authenticity.
About the Author:
Kevin D. Greene is the Nina Bells Suggs Assistant Professor of History and Director of the Center for Oral History and Cultural Heritage at the University of Southern Mississippi.
For more information about Kevin D. Greene, visit the Author Page.
Reviews:
"A wonderfully engaging and intellectually creative rendering of African American life, the city, and even U.S. foreign affairs through the life and music of Big Bill Broonzy."--Davarian L. Baldwin, author of Chicago's New Negroes
"By emphasizing Broonzy's successive (and successful) eras of self-reinvention, Greene persuasively positions this blues musician as a prism for understanding shifts in racial, national, and global identity in the twentieth century."--Joel Dinerstein, author of The Origins of Cool in Postwar America
Quick Links
Related Subjects
The Civil Rights Act of 1964: A Long Struggle for Freedom Blues Musician "Big" Bill Broonzy Interviewed by Alan Lomax in 1947
Blues musician "Big" Bill Broonzy
(1893–1958) recalls the brutal racism that African American veterans of
World War I faced when they returned home from fighting for their
country in an interview conducted by Alan Lomax (1915–2002) in 1947.
https://www.mswritersandmusicians.com/mississippi-musicians/big-bill-broonzy
Big Bill Broonzy
Major Works
-
Big Bill Blues 2001
- House Rent Stomp 1999
- I Feel So Good 1998
- Remembering 1990
- 1955 London Sessions 1990
- Big Bill Broonzy In Concert 2002
- Mississippi River Blues 2001
- Legendary Blues Recordings: Big Bill Broonzy 2001
- Essential 2001
- Trouble In Mind 2000
- Post War Years Vol 2:1945-1949 2000
- Absolutely The Best 2000
- Chicago Calling 1999
- Warm Witty & Wise 1998
- Treat Me Right 1996
- Big Bill’s Blues 1996
- Just A Dream 1995
- I Feel So Good 1995
- Black Brown & White 1995
- Baby Please Don’t Go 1994
- Vol. 4-(1935-36) 1992
- 1935-47 1991
- Bill Broonzy Story 1960
- Historic Concert Recordings 1957
- Sings Folk Songs 1956
- 1955 London Sessions 1955
- Good Time Tonight 1930
- Young Big Bill Broonzy 1928-35 1928
- Do That Guitar Rag 1928-35 1928
William Lee Conley Broonzy: A Biography
by Anton Duck (SHS)William Lee Conley Broonzy, one of the masters of country blues, was born in Scott, Mississippi, on June 26, 1893. However, one source says Broonzy had a twin sister name Lannie Broonzy, who says she has proof that she was born in 1898, on June 26. This information would have proved that Broonzy was five years younger than he pretended. Big Bill was the son of Frank Broonzy and Mittie Belcher, who had seventeen other children (Bruynoghe 9). During this time period, many black men added years to their age either to get a job or join the military, so the exact date of Broonzy’s birth is not clear (Barnwell 317).
Broonzy’s life as a child was hard because he received only minimal schooling. He had to quit school to help his sharecropping family around the house. Before he moved to Arkansas, Broonzy learned how to play the fiddle from his uncle Jerry Belcher. At the age of fourteen, he started working for tips at country dances, picnics, and he played for the church (Broonzy). During the years 1912-1917, Broonzy worked part time as a preacher and violinist.
Then Broonzy served in the US Army during World War I. After his discharge, he returned back to Arkansas. This is the time when he decided that farming was not what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. He wanted to make his living as a guitar player and singer. In 1924, Broonzy moved to Chicago to start his music career partly because of all the racism that was happening in the South. Under the guidance of Papa Charlie Jackson, Broonzy learned how to play the guitar. In the 1930’s Broonzy became known as one of the major artists on the Chicago Blues scene. During this time he performed with other top blues artist in Chicago– like Memphis Minnie, Tampa Red, Jazz Gillum, Lonnie Johnson, and John Lee “Sonny Boy” Williamson. Also, while trying to make it in the music business, he worked as a janitor and maintenance man (Big Bill Broonzy).
In 1938 Broonzy performed at John Hammond’s famous Spiritual and Swing concert at Carnegie Hall in New York City. This was the first time that he had ever performed in front of a white audience. After the concert, people started calling him “Big Bill” Broonzy. At this time Broonzy received newfound fame as the father of Chicago blues.(Broonzy). He was one of the best known blues players and recorded over 260 blues songs including Feelin’ Low Down, Remember Big Bill, Make Me Getaway, and Big Bill Broonzy Sings Country Blues (Brewer 15). His recording career spanned five long decades as he traveled from Mississippi to Chicago and even to Europe, where he became well-known. There are forty-two of his albums still available (Cox 113).
After the arrival of artists like Muddy Waters and the playing of the electric guitar, Broonzy’s brand of blues was pushed aside. Rather than retire, he changed his style of music to folk blues. In 1951, Broonzy toured Europe where he performed standard blues, traditional folk tunes, and spirituals to appreciative audiences. The following year Broonzy returned to Europe with pianist Blind John Davis. He opened the doors for other American blues artists to tour there as well. In 1955, with the help of writer Yannick Bruynoghe, he told the story of his life in the book Big Bill Broonzy. This book was originally published in London. Big Bill Broonzy’s book was one of the first autobiographies by a blues man (Big Bill Broonzy). In 1957, William Lee Conley Broonzy was diagnosed with throat cancer. He continued to perform, although he had with great pain, until he died of throat cancer on August 15, 1958. In 1980, he was inducted into the Blues Foundation’s Hall of Fame (Cox 113).
https://www.press.uchicago.edu/books/riesman/index.html
I Feel So Good
The Life and Times of Big Bill Broonzy
by Bob Riesman
A
record by Big Bill Broonzy was the first blues record I purchased. I
got it in the spring of 1960 at my local music store in Ealing in West
London where I grew up. Bill’s record was in the Folk Music section,
alongside Pete Seeger, Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee, Leadbelly and
possibly Joan Baez. I listened to these other artists a year later. Bill
had toured in Europe quite a bit, and was a well-known name to me. I
loved his voice, his guitar playing and his handsome face. I was 15
years old, and had been playing guitar for four years. It wasn’t until
two years later that I discovered that in Ealing we were lucky enough to
have The Ealing Club, a crypt-like basement where Alexis Korner and
Cyril Davies regularly performed (as did the fledgling Rolling Stones a
little later)—they had met and worked with Big Bill a few times, and
played some of his songs. I always felt close to Big Bill. He was my
first Blues crush. I felt I had sat at his feet. If I were to allow my
heart to tell the tale, I would say that I had actually sat at his feet,
and had heard the pain and joy of his life firsthand through his
wonderful songs.
Bob Riesman’s book makes quite a bit of the way Big Bill reinvented himself, and possibly invented much of his past in a creative manner. I’m not known for my love of facts either. If a Blues, R&B or rock ’n’ roll career life-story is worth telling, it’s worth dressing up. I’m not an academic biographer. Riesman is that, and he gets close to the real truth about Big Bill’s life, but does so in a generous and non-judgemental way that actually deepens the impact and power of everything Bill did as a creative artist and musician who reserved the right to gild the lily. In particular, Bill’s family life, his years doing rough work, and his ability to reflect the stories and experiences of his contemporaries, all combine in this book to bring the terrible racial events and atrocities of those times back into relevance as historical facts rather than blues hearsay.
We’ve heard the songs, we’ve seen the face, we may even have listened to Big Bill himself telling interviewers like Alan Lomax how it really was, in his own inimitable and creative way. This book sets Bill’s extraordinary life and career in meticulously researched perspective. This giant of man—Big Bill Broonzy—deserves such a book, and Riesman is clearly the right man for the job. His affection for his subject is as evident as his respect. This is a compelling historical biography of an artist who sang right at the beginning of a musical era that later included rock ’n’ roll. If rock ’n’ roll and all its recent spawn can in any sense be regarded as art, or carries any social meaning, or transmits reflective or historical relevance to those who love it, this book will help to explain why.
Back before it all caught fire, we heard Big Bill, and we knew that music could tell the truth as well as entertain. Riesman makes it clear that such music might not relate the facts, but he never for a second doubts that Big Bill Broonzy knew the truth, even if he couldn’t resist dressing it up sometimes.
I toast the research. I toast the show business. I mourn the big African-American man who taught me that when you are a minstrel your main job is to entertain. The truth will follow.—Pete Townshend, December 2010
“Big Bill Broonzy was one of the most influential African American blues artists in the 1930s and 1940s and the leading figure in the spread of blues to Europe in the 1950s. Up to now, much of his life has been shrouded in mystery and fable, largely created by Broonzy himself. Bob Riesman’s book lifts the veil and reveals a life that was every bit as interesting as the legend.”—David Evans, author The NPR Curious Listener’s Guide to the Blues
Bob Riesman’s book makes quite a bit of the way Big Bill reinvented himself, and possibly invented much of his past in a creative manner. I’m not known for my love of facts either. If a Blues, R&B or rock ’n’ roll career life-story is worth telling, it’s worth dressing up. I’m not an academic biographer. Riesman is that, and he gets close to the real truth about Big Bill’s life, but does so in a generous and non-judgemental way that actually deepens the impact and power of everything Bill did as a creative artist and musician who reserved the right to gild the lily. In particular, Bill’s family life, his years doing rough work, and his ability to reflect the stories and experiences of his contemporaries, all combine in this book to bring the terrible racial events and atrocities of those times back into relevance as historical facts rather than blues hearsay.
We’ve heard the songs, we’ve seen the face, we may even have listened to Big Bill himself telling interviewers like Alan Lomax how it really was, in his own inimitable and creative way. This book sets Bill’s extraordinary life and career in meticulously researched perspective. This giant of man—Big Bill Broonzy—deserves such a book, and Riesman is clearly the right man for the job. His affection for his subject is as evident as his respect. This is a compelling historical biography of an artist who sang right at the beginning of a musical era that later included rock ’n’ roll. If rock ’n’ roll and all its recent spawn can in any sense be regarded as art, or carries any social meaning, or transmits reflective or historical relevance to those who love it, this book will help to explain why.
Back before it all caught fire, we heard Big Bill, and we knew that music could tell the truth as well as entertain. Riesman makes it clear that such music might not relate the facts, but he never for a second doubts that Big Bill Broonzy knew the truth, even if he couldn’t resist dressing it up sometimes.
I toast the research. I toast the show business. I mourn the big African-American man who taught me that when you are a minstrel your main job is to entertain. The truth will follow.—Pete Townshend, December 2010
More About the Book
I Feel So Good is the definitive account of Bill Brooonzy’s life and music and features many rarely seen photos. Read more about the book. The author, Bob Riesman, is also co-editor of Chicago Folk: Images of the Sixties Music Scene: The Photographs of Raeburn Flerlage. He produced and co-wrote the television documentary American Roots Music: Chicago, and was a contributor to Routledge’s Encyclopedia of the Blues. He will be appearing at a number of events for the book.
“Big Bill Broonzy was one of the most influential African American blues artists in the 1930s and 1940s and the leading figure in the spread of blues to Europe in the 1950s. Up to now, much of his life has been shrouded in mystery and fable, largely created by Broonzy himself. Bob Riesman’s book lifts the veil and reveals a life that was every bit as interesting as the legend.”—David Evans, author The NPR Curious Listener’s Guide to the Blues
Book details:
Bob Riesman
I Feel So Good: The Life and Times of Big Bill Broonzy
©2011, 328 pages, 31 halftones
Cloth $27.50 ISBN: 9780226717456 • Buy print book at 20% discount.
E-book edition is forthcoming on our website and from other e-book sources.
For information on purchasing the book—from bookstores or here online—please go to the webpage for I Feel So Good: The Life and Times of Big Bill Broonzy.
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