Cover Images: Left: Ida Cox, Right: Papa
Eagle Rock Me Mama, Sally Long
marked the debut of the only successful male solo artist in the first
six years of blues recordings (1920-1925): Papa Charlie Jackson - referred
to in my Introduction. Playing a big six-string banjo-guitar he was
very much in the vaudeville blues mould as well as drawing on a
minstrelsy repertoire including a few rural blues sides. One of his
earliest and most popular songs was Salty Dog Blues
[Paramount 12236]. This was covered by a handful of male
artists -including Kokomo Arnold and Leadbelly - and a lone female
version by Clara Smith in 1926. Also in this year, Jackson re-cut his
song with Freddie Keppard’s Jazz Cardinals, laying aside his
on Salty Dog [Columbia 14143] Clara Smith sang most of
Papa Charlie Jackson’s lyrics she gives the song an entirely new
setting, a new ‘feel’, with her low-down moaning style backed very ably
by Fletcher Henderson on piano. While Kokomo Arnold’s Salty Dog
[Decca 7267] features a rural blues atmosphere with his fluid slide
guitar at a tempo more akin to that of Jackson. As with Papa Charlie
Jackson, Arnold includes a verse about Uncle Bud Russell. (see CD2) But
unlike Jackson he includes a second verse, one from Doc. Reese (see CD2)
with no attempt at masking the words as Rochelle French had done some
two years previously. Indeed, Kokomo Arnold sings the verse with gusto,
adding a denigrating epithet:
Old Uncle Bud is
a man like dis;
his money an’ use his fist.
You salty dog.
Ah! You puppy!
Ah! You salty dog.
Charlie Jackson re-appears, this time in a duet with Ida Cox (more from
her later). A humorous dialogue which refers to a couple more dances,
one of which seems to have ancient links in Native American culture.
I’m gonna Eagle
Rock you papa, then I’m goin-a Sally Long;
Mister Man. Man,
I’m gonna Eagle
Rock you papa, then I’m goin-a Sally Long.
Oh! Man, man,
I’m gonna win
you back, sweet papa, an’ stop singing this lonesome song.
Oh! Man, man,
appearance of Eagle Rock on disc seems to be either Monday Morning
Blues [OKeh 4345] by the Norfolk Jazz Quartet in early March, 1921;
or Daisy Martin with her Spread Yo’ Stuff [Star Canadian
9115] in early April of the same year. As both dates bear the
abbreviated legend ‘c’ for circa, it is quite possible the two records
came out at the same time; although composer credit is given to the
‘Norfolk Jazz Quartette’ on the Mary Stafford version (November, 1921)
reissued on Archeophone Records. [Footnote 18: See the
essential vaudeville-blues reissue on Archeophone 6006. Ain’t Gonna
Settle Down(the pioneering blues of Mary
Edith Wilson) 2 x CD
set released in 2008-in amazing sound.] In any event
this dance got introduced from minstrelsy and vaudeville sources, in the
first instant. While the Norfolk’s song was covered by other singers,
Spread Yo’ Stuff makes its lone appearance, via the Daisy
Martin opus, in B.&G.R. It is quite likely the very first recording to
link the word ‘rock’ to a dance rather than sexual activity! Regaling
yet another vamping queen - ‘Susie Brown’ - Ms. Martin sings with piping
enthusiasm, an essentially vaudeville performance.
startin’ to shake.
Swingin’ it an’ wingin’ it;
Shoutin’ an’ singin’ it.
Oh! How the gal was swaying.
And when the party got rough;
Susie would yell “Spread yo’ stuff”.
Keep on a-goin’ it. Heelin’ an’ toein’ it;
But don’t your daddy get rough.
Oh! Baby, first grip your knees, under a tree; [made with
the hands above the head]
Let’s float around like a ship that’s lost at sea.
Keep on a-doin’ it;
Keep on a-ruein’ it.
All over the floor.
Eagle Rock-that’s the shock-watch the clock;
‘Cos we ain’t got time.
To do a dance that’s nice an’ fine. [nice and ‘respectable’]
Let’s do it nice;
Let’s make a paradise.
mid-1920s, the Eagle Rock was usually joined by another newer dance, as
seen with the Ida Cox quote above; the Sally Long and would appear in at
least one rural blues, in 1929. This was Black Gypsy Blues
[Vocalion 1547] by Furry Lewis (See JSP
Eagle Rock me,
mama. Sally Long me, too. (x 2)
nobody in town can Eagle Rock like you.
quite likely to have heard a 1924 recording by Sara Martin called
Eagle Rock Me Papa [OKeh 8203].
Eagle Rock me,
daddy an’ Sally Long me, too.
pretty papa while I tell you what to do.
Martin and Furry Lewis connecting the dance to sexual symbolism.
Especially Martin’s phrase ‘Daddy, rock me on your knees’.
pre-history Native Americans included the Woodland tradition which
“began to take shape in the eastern United States, most notably along
the Mississippi and Ohio rivers, around 1,000 B.C.; it lasted with
modifications, until around A.D. 700”
This is the age of the mysterious and semi-mythical Mound Builders. One
of the greatest in size is the Serpent Mound in southern Ohio.
“Another animal effigy mound that can still be seen is at the Rock Eagle
site in Georgia. Here rocks were piled into the shape of a bird,
perhaps an eagle or a buzzard … archeologists have no clue to its use”.
The Rock Eagle Mound is situated in
the northern end of Putnam County, some 140 miles southeast of
Atlanta. It is reasonable to assume
Rock Eagle Mound
some 140 miles
southeast of Atlanta, Georgia.
blues singers adapted the name of this
mound by reversing the words. It is almost certain to have to been an
eagle at this site. Hudson observed “one of the most highly prized
birds in the Southeast [by Native Americans] was the bald eagle,
the symbol of peace …The killing of an eagle concerned an entire village
and it could only be undertaken by a professional eagle killer who knew
the prayers necessary to keep the eagle from taking vengeance on the
village … If anyone dreamed of an eagle or of eagle feathers, he had to
sponsor an eagle dance, else someone in his family would die”.
This was surely an early precursor
or ancestor of the Eagle Rock.
Eagle Rock Dance : Illustration by W.
Crumbo (Potawatomi Creek) 1941.
the earlier 1830s, George Catlin described The Eagle Dance of the
Choctaw. “This picturesque dance was given by twelve or sixteen men,
whose bodies were chiefly naked and painted white, with white clay, and
each one holding in his hand the tail of the eagle, while his head was
also decorated with an eagle’s quill. Spears were stuck in the ground,
around which the dance was performed by four men at a time, who had
simultaneously, at the beat of the drum, jumped up from the ground where
they had all sat in rows of four, one row immediately behind the other,
and ready to take the place of the first four when they left the ground
fatigued, which they did by hopping or jumping around behind the rest,
and taking their seats, ready to come up again in their turn, after each
of the other sets had been through the same forms”.
beginnings of the 20th. Century many black citizens could
(and sometimes did) claim to have some Native American blood. Most
famously, Charley Patton who probably inherited some Choctaw link from
his forebears. [Footnote 19: See Red Man And The Blues.
Dissertation by Max Haymes. 1991. Lancaster University, reproduced by
Alan White on earlyblues.com.] The cultures of the Native
American and the African American often became interwoven. In the
sources of some of the Brer Rabbit stories, and practices in hoodoo for
example. The adopting of the Eagle Rock by blues singers may be added
to the list. “Many tribes, among them the Cherokee, and Choctaw,
performed Eagle Dances for many different reasons: to create or cement
friendships, ensure a successful hunt or battle, cure sickness
(particularly ‘eagle sickness’), or make peace between antagonistic
tribes. The dances all had in common dancers who moved, and sometimes
dressed, like eagles, usually carrying a wand with eagle tail or
The hand and arm movements described by Daisy Martin
& Co. are not very different to some of those depicted in the Eagle
Dance illustration by Woodrow W. Crumbo - a Potawatomi-Creek - sans the
eagle feathers. (see pic. above) The Eagle Rock is alluded to by Bob and
Earl in their classic 1960s soul hit Harlem Shuffle where the
lady being addressed is encouraged to ‘shake a tailfeather, baby’. Paul
Oliver refers to some dances as ‘movements’ which were also incorporated
into other dances. “Some dances had a relatively long life, and
certain steps and movements were readily transposed to a variety of
dance tunes which, in themselves, only enjoyed a brief vogue”.
He describes the Eagle Rock movement “with
extended arms and bird-like flapping, [which was] … popular for a
1923, vaudeville blues singer Virginia Liston (1890-1932) cut
Sally Long Blues [OKeh 8115] which is about a feisty young woman
of this name doing the Eagle Rock and her family were doing it a long
time back - ‘before she were born’. Another fine artist in the second
line, this is a low-down blues with Clarence Williams playing some
excellent corresponding piano. [Footnote
20: For more on the Sally Long see Songsters & Saints-in
bibliography - by Paul Oliver (p.p.44-45). And From
To Vaudeville (Theatrical Spectacle In America 1830-1910)
p.p. 68-69 for an opera link
and p.p. 71-72 for a transcription of Lucy Long - both from 1842.
Robert M. Lewis (Ed.). [The John Hopkins University Press. Baltimore &
Sally Long got
the blues. It cannot be true. (x 2)
Got drunk and told the judge just what she would do.
They Eagle Rocked in Sally’s family before she were born;
Eagle Rock in Sally’s family before she were born.
She said ‘I’m gonna Eagle Rock until I’m dead an’ gone.
concluded with the verse that Furry Lewis featured six years later.
Virginia Liston c.
- first recording of
You Don’t Know My Mind
- subsequently covered by many blues singers, both vaudeville &
Eagle Rock me
papa. Sally Long me, too. (x 2)
There’s nobody Eagle Rock me like my daddy do.
quite possible that Ms. Liston is claiming an ancient Native American
ancestry for ‘Sally Long’ via the long-standing tradition of the Eagle
Dance by way of the Eagle Rock.
verses in the Blues are an a essential ‘tool of the trade’ for the early
singers. Briefly, if a country blues guitarist is half-way through a
song and suddenly his/her inspiration dries up, such a verse which is
well-known to the black audience, can be brought into play. One example
I’m going down
the road, feeling bad.
worst old feeling I’ve ever had.
one includes the line ‘If you don’t believe I’m sinking, look what a
hole I’m in’. It is quite likely that the majority of these verses
emanated from early unrecorded country blues singers. But there is a
good chance some first saw the light of day sung by a vaudeville blues
January, 1922, Essie Whitman cut two takes of her If You Don’t
Believe I Love You [Black Swan 2036]. She sings floating verses
with a novel adaptation of her own.
don’t believe I love you, look what a fool, [I’ve
don’t believe I’m sinkin’, look what a hole I’m in.
omission of the phrase ‘I’ve been’ in the opening line suggest that Ms.
Whitman’s audience were already familiar with these lyrics indicating an
earlier (than 1922) vintage for this particular floating verse. It
could well have been extant at the end of the 19th. Century
when Henry Thomas - b.1874 -(see JSP 7730-A) picked it up and
reproduced a variant he recorded on Bull-Doze Blues [Vocalion
1230] in 1928. His sound with driving rhythms and stabbing reed pipes/syrinx
giving out an archaic atmosphere - in the best sense of the word.
don’t believe I’m sinkin’, look what a hole I’m in; (x 2)
If you don’t believe I’m sinkin’, look what a fool I’ve bin.
weeks later, Mississippi’s Ishmon Bracey (see JSP 7715-E)
included similar lines in his awesome Trouble Hearted Blues-Tk.2
[Victor unissued] which sounds equally as archaic.
believe I’m sinkin’. Mmmmmmmmmmm;
See what a hole
You don’t believe I lay there. Think what a fool I bin.
was also one of only two featured on Stealin’ Stealin’
[Victor V38504] by the Memphis Jug Band recorded just over a fortnight
years prior to the Memphis Jug Band recording, Edna Hicks included the
verse, from which they derived their title, at the conclusion of her
Squawkin’ The Blues (Vocalion 14659] in 1923. Born in New
Orleans in 1895, she was half-sister to the much better known Lizzie
Miles and an actual sister to trumpet player Herb Morand; latterly of
Harlem Hamfats fame.(101)
Once referred to as a light-voiced singer
Ms. Hicks “has attracted very little attention from either jazz or
over the ensuing years. Yet she should be
ranked up there in the
Edna Hicks c. 1923
‘second line’ of vaudeville blues singers with Rosa
Henderson, (CD 4) et al.
Furthermore, she appeared to be much more
involved in the Blues. As Rye said: “… she comes over very much as a
blues singer, rather than as merely a vaudeville singer who performed
As in the case of say, Daisy Martin or
Leona Williams (CD 2). Most of the five verses on Squawkin’ The
Blues came from the rural blues tradition. As her man has left
her, she feels her love has ‘been abused’.
If he didn’t love me, he didn’t love me, he had no right to stall;
didn’t love me, he had no right to stall.
‘Cos I can
get more men than a passenger train can haul.
If you get a
man. A lovin’ man, you better pin him to your side;
if you love him, please, pin him to your side.
‘Cos if he
flags my train, I’m sure gonna let him ride.
me stealin’. You see me stealin’. Please, don’t you tell on me;
see me stealin’. Please, don’t you tell on me.
‘Cos I am
just stealin’ back to my used- to-be.
featured in several musical comedy shows in various theatres in New
York, Chicago, and Cincinnati, Ohio. Tragically, she suffered an
accident at her home in Chicago, involving gasoline. She was taken to
“Provident Hospital where she died of burns; [and was] buried
[in the] Holy Sepulchre Cemetery, Worth, IL.”.
vaudeville blues singers, Edna Hicks played a piano but only on a demo
disc - if at all - at the start of a recording career. She also wrote at
least two of her own songs, which she recorded.
One of these was Hard Luck Blues
[Paramount 12023]. This included a verse which would appear in blues
recordings down through the years, with a variation in the second line
which seems unique to Ms. Hicks.
||I loved a
man, his name was Jimmy, born down in Alabam;
He always had a hand full of
‘gimme’, a mouth full of ‘Thank you, ma’m,.
or so years later, legendary country blues singer Sleepy John Estes (see
JSP 7779) cut his Drop Down Mama [Champion 50048] in
1935 which even got issued on a 78 single in the UK!
Some of these women sure do
make me tired;
Gotta handfulla ‘gimme’,
mouthfulla ‘much obliged’.
Well, my mama
she don’t allow me to fool round all night long;
Now, I may look like I’m crazy, poor John do know right from
follows the original phrase which first appeared in Gulf Coast
Blues [Paramount 12030] by Texas singer Monette Moore in
January, 1923, and just prior to the Bessie Smith version.
of you men sure do make me
You got a
handful of ‘gimme’ an’ a mouthful of ‘much obliged’.
there are ten recordings of this song which were all made in the first
half of 1923. All were released except the one by Desdemona Jones.
c. 20/3/23. N.Y.C.
||c. 18 May, 1923.
c. late May,1923. N.Y.C.
as for 5.
Pathe Actuelle 021005
c. late May, 1923. N.Y.C.
All of the
9 issued sides, including the one by Edna Hicks, use this phrase and 5
of them followed Esther Bigeou’s slight alteration ‘The men up north
sure do make me tired’. Only Bessie adhered to Monette’s original
recording. Composer credit is given as ‘Williams’ who is presumably
Clarence Williams and who played piano on some of these versions of
Gulf Coast Blues.
self-penned Hicks title is Poor Me Blues [Paramount 12089]
also from 1923. This might be distantly related to Poor Me
[Vocalion 02651] Charley Patton recorded in 1934, shortly before
his death. Actually a different song and apart from the title the Edna
Hicks side has only two tenuous links with the Patton recording. To the
accompaniment of a fine jazz trio led by Porter Grainger, she introduces
I left my
mother, the best friend I had;
For the man that took me, that’s why I’m all in bad.
Nobody gives me
That’s reason [sic] why I cry ‘Poor me’.
alone, I can see a thousand miles away. (x 2)
I can see the man that made me what I am today.
the concluding line in verse 2 was picked up and rearranged as a title
by a minstrel/medicine show entertainer known as Hound Head Henry. Now
called Cryin’ Blues [Vocalion 1210] he half sings-speaks
and ‘cries’ his way through the lyrics including a refrain which Charley
Patton incorporated into his own recording 6 years later.
Poor me, poor me;
Lord, have mercy on poor me.
I ain’t got
nobody to pity on poor me.
You may go; You may stay;
come back some sweet day.
So it’s bye
you bye, sweet mama, bye you bye.
months before his death, Charley Patton recorded his version as
Poor Me . Whether he was tired at this session on 1st.
February, or he was trying to re-capture Hound Head Henry’s ‘crying’
atmosphere is difficult to determine. Certainly his deteriorating heart
condition (which killed him in April) was a contributing factor to the
atypical ‘lack of fire’ even for 1934. John Fahey said of this song
“Neither its structure nor its text is blues … It is probably of Tin Pan
(112) An excellent guitarist himself,
Fahey listed the total (then available) recorded output of Charley
Patton into six categories. No.5 is titled ‘Miscellaneous’ and the four
songs listed-including Poor Me - “do not fit into any of
the previous categories and which have been described as problematical”.
event, Patton added a surreal verse of his own. The implication being
that the subject (the singer) has already died and his spirit is looking
down through the trees at his last common-law wife, Bertha Lee who
survived him by several decades.
moon look pretty shinin’ down through the trees?
Well, I can see Bertha Lee,
Lord, but she can’t see me.
Edna Hicks’ third verse quoted above, from her Poor Me Blues.
As the Revenant Records crew point out in the notes to their incredible
7x CD box set of Charley Patton & friends, Walter Davis had sung a
variation of this verse in 1932 on his M.&O. Blues No.3
(115) with some scintillating piano from
However, Davis may have heard a live
performance by Patton in 1932 prior to recording. In his earlier
recording years, he sometimes made the trip from St. Louis (where he had
moved to) to his home town of Grenada (pronounced ‘Greneyda’ in the
South) in the Mississippi Delta. Patton may have picked up on a
floating verse and adapted it to his own personal situation - fear of his
imminent demise. Of course there is the possibility that Walter Davis
originated this verse himself. Although as one of the Blues’ finest
lyricists, this seems to be out of context with his theme on M. &
O. Blues No.3. That is, to escape from an ‘unruly’ woman by
catching the Mobile and Ohio train to parts unknown.
previously on this set, some songs were ‘straight’ covers from
vaudeville to country blues. Ma Rainey and Charley Lincoln (CD 2), for
example. Others were very similar and can be seen as variations of the
same song, as with Ora Alexander and Jed Davenport (CD 1), and the Hound
Head Henry/Charley Patton sides (CD 3). Two more are included here. In
1924, Ma Rainey hollered and sang her way through Booze And Blues
[Paramount 12242] to the raucous accompaniment of a top rate
section of the Fletcher Henderson band, including Charlie Green’s
‘dirty’ trombone. As we have seen, Charley Patton listened to earlier
recordings by different blues singers and this Ma Rainey song obviously
impressed - and inspired - him enough to do a remake of his 1929 Tom
Rushen Blues [Paramount 12877] some five years
later as High Sheriff Blues in 1934 for Vocalion.
“This was noted by
Calt & Wardlow in 1988—see King Of The Delta Blues (Rock Chapel Press).”
Railroadin’ Some. Ibid.
p.282. See bibliography for full details. More details of the other
names Patton sings about are in Calt & Wardlow, Ibid.]
The earlier piece referred to a local
Delta law officer (white) called Tom Rushing to whom Patton gave a copy
of the Paramount record. Rushing was proud to relate this to
researchers in the 1960s. Rainey’s main biographer, Sandra Lieb, notes
that Booze And Blues was “not copyrighted in Ma
Rainey’s name, and
thus we cannot be sure that she was the original performer,”.(116)
While Calt & Wardlow state that Rainey’s
song was “credited to T. Guy Saddoth”.
reference to husband and wife teams as a very popular part of the
vaudeville blues in the 1920s (see CD 4). This phenomenon brought to
light some more male singers - in addition to Papa Charlie Jackson - in this
genre. One of these is the fine example of George Williams who was born
in Houston, Texas, “about 1899”.
He was usually featured with his wife Bessie Brown
(CD 4). As with other of these duos, he gets the odd solo number. On
his A Woman Gets Tired Of One Man All The Time [Columbia
14002] he takes a more cynical, but sometimes true, look at married life
which seems to be growing stale with the passage of time. Especially
when one partner is working at one of the few legitimate jobs open to
blacks, to make ends meet.
Me an’ my wife, here of
late, says we don’t get along so well;
The older she gets, the more to me she seems to change her
She used to
be so good to me, I didn’t think a wife could be so kind;
But when I
come home, now I [be]’lieve my wife don’t pay me no mind.
it strange how women can change;
That wife o’ mine is ‘bout to drive me insane.
Now, a woman gets
tired, I mean real tired of one man all the time.
Now, the reason so many mens is wearin’ over-halls today;
Every Saturday night they let they wife draw their pay.
A woman gets
Now, when I’m out on my
wagon tryin’ to sell some coal;
She’s round the corner sellin’ sweet jelly roll
A woman gets
Chris Smith is quite dismissive of the talents of George Williams - and
Bessie Brown - I think this is showing some in-built prejudice on his
part, which I have to say is not
typical of his writings.
Comparing this duo unfavourably with the likes of
Butterbeans and Susie (CD 4) is being a little disingenuous. Williams
and Brown were a
long-standing and very popular team in the 1920s, as Chris notes, and I
feel sure it was in part to NOT sounding like said Butterbeans and
Susie. What these duos included in their dialogue and songs was often
of major importance to black listeners - as indeed it is with the blues
of the rural singers. Listeners should try and ‘see’ the lyrics through
the eyes of an African American, certainly at the time. As Paul Oliver
said so many years ago in his groundbreaking book Blues Fell This
Chris Smith’s comments on Bessie Brown’s
Hoodoo Blues and George Williams’ Chain Gang Blues and
their accompaniments are “of more verbal than musical interest”
should be seen as a plus rather
than a minus aspect. But the listeners can make up their own minds, and
I would only add that repeated listenings can be very rewarding. In
passing, the famous duo of Leroy Carr
and Scrapper Blackwell (see JSP 7710 & JSP 77125) cut an
urbanized version in 1929 adapted to their Don’t You Get Tired Of
Riding That Same Train All The Time (JSP 7710).
event, in 1927, Sam Jones as Stovepipe No.1, who also cut vaudeville
blues recordings (back in 1924), put out a very fine rural performance
of the George Williams song. (see also JSP 77125 D). He
accompanied himself on part of a domestic appliance, a wood-burning
stove. Featuring what has to be the longest stovepipe solo on a record,
the singer repeats his opening verse and ends with the truncated phrase
“Ain’t it funny”
and lets his great instrument ‘sing’ it out.
to the discussion above on George Williams and Bessie Brown, are the
forthright comments from Ida Cox on her Blues Ain’t Nothin’ Else
But [Paramount 12212]. One of the four biggest ‘heavy hitters’
of vaudeville blues, Ida Cox also known as ‘The Uncrowned Queen Of The
Blues’ laid down for recorded posterity what the Blues really IS!
Oh! The Blues ain’t nothin’
but your lover on your mind. (x 2)
The man that keep you
worried an’ always cryin’.
Oh! The Blues ain’t nothin’
but a woman wantin’ to see her man. (x 2)
him when she want him, gotta catch him when she can.
The Blues ain’t nothin’ but a slow-achin’ heart disease. (x 2)
consumption it kill you by degrees.
Oh! The Blues ain’t nothin’
but a good woman feelin’ bad.
Unknown stove pipe
c. turn of 20th. century
[Image kindly supplied by
Marshall Wyatt, Old Hat Records]
some excellent cornet by an unidentified player. Twelve years further
down the line, the celebrated Robert Johnson used Cox’s definition and
added one of his own.
is a low-down shakin’ chill;
Yes! Preach ‘em now.
low-down shakin’ chill.
had ‘em, I hope you never will.
Well, the blues is a achin’ old heart disease;
Do it now. You gon’
do it? Tell me all about it.
The blues is
a low-down achin’ heart disease.
Like consumption, killin’ me by degrees.
Kokomo Arnold 1937.
Mister Man - Pt.II
Papa Charlie Jackson 1925.
Spread Yo’ Stuff
Daisy Martin 1921.
Black Gypsy Blues
Furry Lewis 1929.
Eagle Rock Me Papa
Sara Martin 1924.
Ballantine B. & I.
p.38. (S. & S.)
Sally Long Blues
If You Don’t
Believe I Love You
Essie Whitman 1922.
Henry Thomas 1928.
Ishmon Bracey 1928.
Notes to Edna Hicks Vol.1
[Document Records. DOCD-5428] 1996.
Squawkin’ The Blues
Edna Hicks 1923.
Hard Luck Blues
Edna Hicks 1923.
Drop Down Mama
Sleepy John Estes
Gulf Coast Blues
Monette Moore 1923.
Poor Me Blues
Edna Hicks 1923.
Hound Head Henry
Calt & Wardlow
Notes to George Williams & Bessie Brown
[Document Records. DOCD-5527] 1997.
A Woman Gets Tired
Of One Man All The Time
See p.p.10-11. Also see Max Haymes and Meaning In The Blues
4 CD S. JSP. Ibid.
A Woman Gets Tired
Of One Man All The Time
Blues Ain’t Nothin’
Ida Cox 1924.
Robert Johnson 1936.
© Copyright 2012 Max Haymes. All rights reserved.
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