When Houston Had The Blues

Houston, we have had problems, so many that we wrote a pile of songs about them that changed the planet, as seen in the crucial music documentary When Houston Had The Blues, directed by Alan Swyer. It is an encyclopedic study of the rise and fall of the Houston blues movement of the 50s and 60s. Despite its lasting influence on music history, Houston is still not seen as an American music city like New Orleans or Memphis. Swyer seeks to set this right with lots of interviews with blues greats, the relatives of blues greats, and the musicians who worked with them. Also, music historian Roger Wood fills in a lot of the big picture of the whole scene.

We find out Lightning Hopkins got his name from a gig where he played with another musician named Thunder. We get hip to the fact that Gatemouth Brown hid joints in the headband of that hat he wore. We are schooled on Clifton Chenier, the king of Zydeco, as well as Katie Webster, the queen of the swamp boogie blues. Homage is paid to the kings of Texas Blues guitar: Freddy King, Albert King, and Albert Collins, all of whom could rip it to pieces onstage. And how hardcore do you have to be to already be aware of Grady Gaines and the Texas Upsetters?

“…an encyclopedic study of the rise and fall of the Houston blues movement of the 50s and 60s.”

We are lucky enough to have in-person interviews with living legends, like Guitar Shorty, who did flips onstage while playing guitar. We also get to hear from the great women of Houston Blues, like Big Mama Thornton, Jewel Brown, Trudy Lynn, and Dr. Maple Johns. Also, Billy Gibbons of the Moving Sidewalks and ZZ Top speaks about how the Houston Blues sound guided a lot of where rock and roll ended up going.

My Blues balls didn’t drop until I turned 50. Even back in Austin during the 90s, when I lived a few yards from Antone’s famous Blues club, I couldn’t stand the style, as it was miles away from punk or new wave. I learned to enjoy a lot of different genres of music over the years, except Blues. Then I heard Albert King’s I’ll Play The Blues For You album, and suddenly I could not get enough. Maybe you need enough life in the rearview mirror to appreciate just how rooted Blues is in everything you ever liked. Maybe it’s just the great backward where, at a certain age, everyone else is dead, so we just go back to where it all began.