MY EXPOSURE TO MUSIC, RECORDED AND LIVE

 So, I'm from Seattle and I'm supposed to be hip. . . . . that's a laugh.

True, I always listened to music, but not Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, Pearl Jam, Foo Fighters, Nirvana.  

Those groups came well after I left town in '66 for a brief 4 years in Brownsville.

Jimmie Rogers

The music that I listened to growing up was played by musicians like Jimmie Rogers, Roger Miller and Roy Orbison.

"Oh, Honeycomb, won't you be my baby

Well, Honeycomb be my own

Got a hank o' hair and a piece o' bone

And made a walkin' talkin' Honeycome"

The dj's told us that was Western music.  No one said anything about country.  

"Pretty Woman" by Roy Orbison certainly caught my attention and I sang it in the shower and in my car.

My '59 VW, purchased when I was 15 and totally paid for before I was old enough to drive it on my 16th birthday, had a great German radio and KJR Seattle came through loud and clear.

"California Dreamin'" by the Mamas and Papas caused me to buy my first record.  

Then, "Daydream," by the Lovin' Spoonful, another record.  

"Along Comes Mary" by The Association was behind my third purchase.

"Rubber Soul" by the Beatles totally blew my mind and I had to share it with my Uncle Joe and Aunt Doris.  Aunt Doris totally got it but my Uncle Joe was so hung up on Nat King Cole he couldn't open his ears.

But, when KJR played "Positively 4th Street" by Bob Dylan I remember pulling my car to the side of the road and yelling: "You can't say that!" at his line "You'd rather see me paralyzed."

But, it was Paul Sanders, my front desk mate at the Valley Inn in Brownsville, that turned me on to Joan Baez in '66 and, when I saw so many of her songs were written by "B. Dylan," I had to examine his stuff more closely.

Around '67 Santiago Na'me, the guitarist at the Valley Inn lounge, could play the instrumentals of all the Beatles' hits and would be serenading a young lady outside the bar in the walkways of the hotel.

Paul usually gave the pair a room that had not been cleaned to satisfy themselves.

Tom Robinson in '67 bought a Rolling Stones record and it annoyed me a little when he reminded me not to "scratch it up" when he loaned it for a listen.

In '70 my scene changed to Arkansas with nothing but country music on the radio.

I must have heard "Rose Garden" by Lynne Anderson 1,000 times:

"I beg your pardon
I never promised you a rose garden
Along with the sunshine
There's gotta be a little rain sometime
When you take you gotta give so live and let live or let go
Oh-whoa-whoa-whoa
I beg your pardon
I never promised you a rose garden"

In '74 we took all of our records with us to Little Rock, but life sidetracked us for a time.

Sure, we had all of the Beatles, including the solo stuff after the breakup.

Nena had her Temptations from her army days.

It would be a few years before we got another taste of live music.

There was this unpretentious place on Main Street in Little Rock, Juanita's.

They served Mexican food on the restaurant side, but half of the building was reserved for live music with a standing audience of 550, as designated by the fire marshal.

Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown

Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown was the first guest I remember, with 11 harmonicas on his belt, taking his guitar into "outer space" and back, the playing the fiddle for several tunes.

We became regulars at Juanita's and saw the Fabulous Thunderbirds, Joan Baez, Joe Louis Walker and the Boss Talkers and many, many groups, mostly blues.

Some time in the late 80's we saw and advertisement in the window of a drug store for John Mayal and the Bluesbreakers and Buddy Guy.

A stage was set up on the levee of the Arkansas River and we were just to the right of the stage.

John Mayall was great.  After his set, we watched as the stage was cleared.  

When someone tried to unplug Mayall's guitar from his amp, he screamed:  "Don't touch my damn guitar!"

Then, Mayall went up to the man and apologized:  "It's just that I don't let anyone else handle my equipment," he explained.

As the sun set, a stagehand came out to Nena and I asking us to move a few feet.

"Buddy likes to go out into the crowd and he has to walk through here."

Fine.

At dusk, this man dressed in overalls with a big smile and gleaming white teeth hit the stage and shouted:

"Damn right I've got the blues!"

That was the first of several times of seeing Buddy Guy.

"You damn right, I've got the blues
From my head down to my shoes
You damn right, I've got the blues
From my head down to my shoes

I can't win, 'cause I don't have a thing to lose

I stopped by my daughter's house
You know I just want to use the phone
I stopped by my daughter's house
You know I just want to use the phone

You know my new grandbaby came to the door
And said, granddaddy, you know ain't no one at home"

Little Rock was about a 2-1/2 hour drive from Memphis.

For several years we witnessed Memphis In May featuring all the blues legends, more than I could begin to enumerate her.

But, we became semi-regulars at B.B. King's Club in Memphis and saw so many performers including B.B.

With that live music background, we were so pleased to discover Ben Neece's Crescent Moon in 2004.

Henry Lee

I'm pretty certain we were there every night it was open and Ben brought so much live music to Brownsville: Henry Lee, the Earthmen, Lords of D'Nile, Louis Villarreal, the Foncerrada family, Los Bluzanos, Clay Moore, etc.

J.J. Struebelt and the editor

J.J. Strubelt was the bartender who made us feel comfortable.

Joe Hugonette with the editor

Damn, those were good times.

Louie Villarreal and the Goodtime Band

Later, a much larger venue, the Half Moon was opened by George Ramirez, who made a valiant attempt at offering live music, but the acoustics of the building were just not the same as the Crescent Moon.