"Johnny had so much success because he is way more than a three-chord, 12-bar musician," Wood says. "His compositions have interesting bridges and intricate melody lines, and are much more like what you think of Duke Ellington sounding like than, say, Robert Johnson or Jimmy Reed."
Brown, adds the professor, "plays like a jazz guy but thinks like a blues guy, and that makes him something very special."
Sherman Hatton
Drummer Jackie Gray has kept time for Earl Gilliam, Texas Johnny Brown, the late Clarence Green and numerous other Houston blues greats.
Sherman Hatton
Pee Wee Stephens played on albums by the late Jerry Lightfoot. Today his Blues For 2 Band, with guitarist Pops Stewart, has residencies at Natachee's Supper & Punch and the Chicago Bar & Grill.
Details
Related Content
More About
Especially to Inner-Loopers more likely to hang out at Poison Girl or Fitzgerald's than The Big Easy, perhaps no one represents the face of Houston blues more than Little Joe Washington. The diminutive guitarist with the wild-man visage is a familiar sight on the streets of Midtown and the adjacent Third Ward, often with his bicycle in tow.
Because of his eccentricity and bouts with homelessness and poverty — including earlier this summer, when he was forced to find new lodgings when his roommate became a full-time caretaker to her terminally ill sister — Washington has probably had more press than all the other blues elders combined, including a 2001 Houston Press cover story by Jennifer Mathieu (see "Hitting the Highs and Lows with Little Joe Washington," March 22, 2001).
What sets Washington apart from these others is his adoption by a younger audience. Brown and the others have their younger fans, to be sure, but play mostly for white, middle-aged, generally affluent crowds, while Washington's normal milieu is Boondocks, where he has a long-running residency on Tuesdays, as well as the Continental Club, where he recently began working a monthly happy hour on Fridays. Washington used to live above the Continental, and had a happy-hour residency at the club for many years that certainly brought him to the attention of a broader crowd than the other Houston blues giants normally attract.
And the fact of the matter is, Washington's sets are wild. Whereas Gaines, Brown and Hopkins sport a dignified, well-dressed stage presence, Washington barely seems to notice what he is wearing and gets up to all sorts of less-than-dignified shenanigans onstage, among them playing his guitar with his tongue or rubbing it on his private parts. He attacks his music like a rock and roller, which is undoubtedly part of his appeal to a wider crowd.
One man you will never catch rubbing his guitar anywhere near his crotch is Milton Hopkins. Always impeccably dressed, he was in Johnny Ace's band that Christmas Day in 1954 when the young star committed suicide while playing Russian roulette backstage at Houston's City Auditorium. Hopkins recently went to Memphis, where he received the Albert King award for best guitarist from the Jus' Blues Music Foundation, which also honored Hopkins's frequent stage partner Trudy Lynn with the KoKo Taylor award for best female vocalist.
Hopkins believes Houston is far from the best city for a blues musician to make a living. He knows too many people in other places, he says, who "have a nice house and a nice car and they don't do anything but play music. You can't do that in Houston anymore. So to me, saying Houston has the best blues scene in the country doesn't really wash.
"You can't make a living being a blues musician in Houston today," elaborates Hopkins. "There aren't enough gigs and there isn't a big enough fan base, so there's just not enough money in the blues to make a decent living without touring."
Beyond the current generation led by Lynn, Greenleaf, Robertson and Leonard "Lowdown" Brown, Hopkins doesn't hold out much hope for the blues. He's noticed the general decline of interest in the music as close as his own family, which has one of the most famous last names in blues history — certainly in Texas.
"Honestly, it's about history, and most people just don't seem that interested," he explains. "Back in the day, you had teachers like Conrad Johnson and Sammy Harris at the schools who gave a lot of guys a nudge in the right direction. I don't see that anymore.
"I come from a large family, but I can tell you that when we all get together, there are teenagers in our family that don't even know who Lightnin' is, who don't know that I play guitar," Hopkins continues. "So I don't see a lot of hope for this music going forward beyond the people who will still be attracted to recordings."
Even Wood, as big a booster of the Houston blues community as there is, admits that while the Houston scene is still fairly vibrant at the moment, taking a longer view means acknowledging that it is in decline.
"We still have a good number of high-quality shows going on, but it's no use pretending things haven't changed here," he says. "In 1994-95, seven days a week, you could find something solid happening at a wide array of joints. And don't forget, the whole Houston tradition of Blue Mondays was very much going full-tilt, and that has all but vanished.
"Now we're down to a handful of places putting on quality local blues shows, and that's mostly just Friday and Saturday nights," Wood says. "Other than that, it's mostly blues jams."
_____________________