On Saturday, September 4, 2004, I was sitting around backstage at the Long Beach Blues Festival chewing the fat and trying to find a spot of shade I could call my own. Nothing too unusual about that… What made this afternoon special was that I was with a friend who I had gotten to know over the past few years. We spoke a couple of times on the phone after that, exchanged some e-mails and cards at Christmas, but I didn’t know it would be the last time I would ever see him. He was bragging about how good he felt. He was happy to be turning 70 that coming Tuesday. "Come on, guess my age." His name was Milton Campbell known throughout the world as Little Milton.

Milton and I drove over to the gig together that Saturday to check out Jimmie Vaughan’s set at the festival. After Jimmie got done playing he wandered over to where we were hunkered down in the shade to say "hey" and join in our animated conversation. Jimmie told me just a few years earlier what an enormous fan he was of Milton’s guitar playing. Milton told me the night before how much he admired Jimmie’s playing, which prompted his joining me at the gig. After the usual, “Great set. How’s it going?" Milton asked Jimmie, “What’s up with Anson?” I don’t remember the answer.

They then began a conversation that extolled the virtues of Anson Funderburgh and his guitar playing, his technique, tone, phrasing and so on. Having been an enormous fan of Funderburgh myself for many years I wasn’t surprised. It did however reinforce what I already knew, which is that the title of “Texas Guitar Legend” as it applies to Anson is well deserved. It certainly had the proper endorsements on this hot afternoon.

It was twenty years earlier that Anson Funderburgh’s life would take a dramatic turn when a chance meeting led to a significant relationship for him and the blues world. He met an accomplished blues musician who hailed from Laurel, Mississippi named Sam Myers. Sam Myers was a multi-talented, multi-instrumentalist with a larger than life persona, whose primary imprint on the blues landscape had come as a songwriter, vocalist and harp player. His songs My Love is Here to Stay and Sleeping in the Ground made the R&B charts in the 1950’s. He had also been a drummer and harp player in Elmore James’ great bands for many years. He was traveling the "chitlin circuit "when he met the young Texas guitarist. Anson already had a band, the Rockets, and recorded two albums on the fledging Black Top label out of New Orleans.

For the next twenty years Anson Funderburgh and the Rockets featuring Sam Myers would become one of the most celebrated blues bands on the scene. They racked up countless Handy nominations and took home nine W.C. Handy awards in all. They barnstormed the world playing up to 300 nights a year. The Anson and Sam duo along with the various fellow Rockets would make a total of 7 studio albums (five on Black Top /two on Bullseye) They would also record one stellar live album on Black Top Records called Live at the Grand Emporium. Anson and Sam as well as the other Rockets would go on to be the de facto “house band” at Black Top, backing up and guesting on albums from their diverse roster of artists.  

Just a few months after Milton asked Jimmy, “What’s up with Anson?” Milton suffered a massive stroke and passed away a few days later, never seeing his 71^st birthday. Sam Myers would be diagnosed with throat cancer. It effectively ended one of the great musical partnerships in blues history. Sam died on July 17, 2006. He was also 70 years old.

Not long after that Anson Funderburgh was diagnosed with prostate cancer. 

On June 11^th 2011, Anson Funderburgh made a rare trip to the West Coast. He was the featured guest at the Rock Academy of San Diego. I caught up with Anson at the school which was founded and operated by San Diego based musician Scottie Blinn. Anson reunited with former Rocket pianist, Carl “Sonny” Leyland. The two world class musicians were joined by Scottie and other San Diego based players for a brief concert that was followed by a Q and A.  Later that evening Anson joined Scottie Blinn and the Burnsville Band at the House of Blues in San Diego’s historic gas lamp district. I told Anson I wanted to update his story and we agreed to stay in touch.

A few days ago I got a phone call at 6:00am PDT.  

I answered the phone only to hear the distinct sound of a thick Texas accent say, “Oh sh*t did I wake you up?” I lied and said “no”. Over the next four and half hours this “interview” turned into a freewheeling, wide ranging conversation. Anson was honest, up front and modest to a fault. He seemed relaxed and at ease with himself, his life and his legacy. By the time the conversation was over I think I can confidently answer the question: What’s up with Anson?

AF: Are you from California originally or Texas?

DM: I am a native Californian but lived in Texas from 1981 – 1993.

AF: Where did we first meet?

DM: I thought I was asking the…Bob Claypool introduced the two of us at a Rockets gig in Houston…1987 I think.

(I put my phone on speaker and grabbed some coffee. I don’t care if it’s T-Bone “freakin” Walker on the phone. This ain’t happening without a cup of joe)

AF: Good ole Bob Claypool. They don’t make ‘em like that anymore.  In Houston there were two pretty good newspapers with two great writers, Marty Racine at the Chronicle and Bob Claypool at the Post.  We were the darlings of the press back then. They both would cover our shows and we always would draw a great crowd. Sam loved Bob Claypool. He would say, “Now that’s a guy you could talk to. You would be sitting there having a drink with that mother f***** and next thing you know he had an interview and a story.” He was a great writer who covered the country music scene down there but he loved our band. 

DM: Bob and I were in a place down in the Heights on Washington Avenue called….

AF: Club Hey Hey. It was great room. It was one of those special places. We would pack the place…loved to play there. A fella named Pete Selin ran the place and later opened a club down the street called the Bon Ton Room. It just wasn’t the same. It seemed a little dangerous. But we would play down in Houston 3 or 4 times a year, did real well. If it wasn’t for people like Marty and Bob, we would not have had the career we did. Those clubs like so many others are long gone. That was a very special time for the blues. I’ve asked people if it would ever happen again. A lot of folks don’t think so. Maybe they are right. I hope not.

DM: I don’t want take this trip too far down memory lane but let’s talk about Sam for a minute. I know that was special relationship. Not just professionally but personally.

AF: We were like family, like brothers…we could say anything to one another but if someone tried to put one of us down or say sh*t about one of us the other would have their back.

 I don’t know if we ever had time to stop and think about how special the relationship was. It is not something we ever had time to think about. We were just too darn busy, traveling,  loading in, playing, loading out, traveling and doing it all again the next day. When you have to leave a gig and travel 12 hours in the middle of the night to get to the next club or your bus is broke down on the side of the highway somewhere you don’t think about how lucky you are. Then one day it is all gone and then you can reflect on it and say, wow we really had something special going on…not just as a band or as a couple of musicians but as two human beings. It was a great relationship. I just don’t know if we really appreciated it at the time. I’m not saying we didn’t enjoy it but it was like we were too busy to really, truly enjoy it. It seemed we never even had time to take a breath.

DM: Another aspect of your career that I enjoyed at the time, and look back on fondly, was what was going on at Black Top Records and your association with Hammond Scott and that label.

AF: Hammond Scott had the ability to find real obscure gems that other folks hadn’t covered or that most folks hadn’t heard and mix them with our original material. He knew how to format a record. Working down there (New Orleans) gave me the opportunity to play with so many of the great players from that part of the country like Earl King, Snooks Eaglin and Clarence Holliman. I particularly liked my contribution to the James “Thunderbird” Davis album that BlackTop put out.

DM: Speaking of producing. One of my favorite records over the past few years came out in 2007…

AF: Magic Touch by John Nemeth.

DM: Bingo! How did that project come about?

AF: John filled in for Sam on dates when his health was starting to fail. John is a terrific singer and a good harp player. There just aren’t that many great singers out there these days. John and I just hit it off. He asked me if I would produce his next record. I said sure. It was in and around the time that Sam passed and I was diagnosed with cancer. It was a real tough time for me. I put the band together. John Street who had played keyboards with the Rockets for some time was on the record as was Wes Starr on drums who I’ve worked with forever. I brought in Ronnie James Webber to play bass. He had been with Little Charlie and the Nightcats, with Kim (Wilson) and the T-Birds and now is with Jimmie (Vaughan). I got Kaz (Mark Kazanoff) on sax. He has played with everybody. I brought in Junior Watson to play guitar. I love Junior’s playing. He is the greatest. It is a solid record. I like it and am very proud of it.

DM: It sounds like you enjoy producing.

AF: I love it. I wish I could do more of it. I love being around people who are creative. For instance I had the biggest time sittin’ around in the studio listening to Watson while we were making the John Nemeth record. I mean when you are working with Watson you better get it the first time because the next time he takes a pass at a song it could be completely different. He’s a genius, man.

DM: What do you apply to producing these days that you picked up from Hammond Scott or your experience producing the albums you did with Sam and the Rockets.

AF:  One of the things I think about when I produce a record is something I thought about back in the day. Let’s say I wrote a song or Sam wrote one…maybe it’s one we did together or one of those Hammond Scott obscure gems we talked about, it doesn’t matter as long as it’s a good song. If it’s not a good song, don’t put it on the record. I don’t care who wrote the song If It’s not good, why bother. I don’t care how good the musicians are, you can’t compensate for bad material.

DM: Would you like to do another record?

AF: I would love to make another record. I would love to do more producing. I know how to make a good record.  In fact I just got done working on a record for Andy Talamantez who recorded with Nick Nixon. It’s gonna be a good one Dave.

DM: Are there any names that come to mind as people who you would like to work with?

AF: I would love to work with Michael Burks. I think he has a real good record in him. I believe I could put him in the right musical situation where that would happen.

DM: You just got through working on an album that was just released called The Mill Block Blues. Let’s talk about that.

AF: It is an album that is really a project that came to me from a guy named James Goode. He lives here in the Dallas area. He is a bass player who wrote all the songs except one instrumental John Street and I wrote together. He asked me if I could produce it. So I helped him bring in some musicians. We got Wes on drums and Christian Dozzler on accordion. We have Hash Brown on harmonica and a whole bunch of singers on the thing, including Andrew “Junior Boy” Jones who John has been working with over the past few years. We put the tracks down and recorded the whole thing in John’s home studio in Plano (Texas). I play guitar on most of the tracks.

DM: There is something else special about this album.

AF: Absolutely…the proceeds go to the Handy Artist Relief Trust ("HART") It is a fund for musicians to help pay for their medical expenses. HART is part of the Blues Foundation. It is a real good cause.

DM: I know this is a cause that is close to your heart for another reason.

AF: Yes it is. I am a recovering cancer patient myself. My dad died of prostate cancer in 1988. He died just two years after being diagnosed. I’m just glad to be alive. I feel fortunate they caught it early and I didn’t have to go through the chemo and radiation treatments. December will mark the fifth year without a reoccurrence. At that time they say I will be officially cancer free.

DM: That is great news, but that is not the only experience over the past decade or so that has changed the way you look at life and your career.

AF: I have a family now and that changes everything. Once you have kids, most of the stuff you worried about doesn’t mean a darn thing anymore. Nothing matters but those little rascals.

DM: Let’s talk about the family if you don’t mind.

AF: Sure. My wife Renee is originally from Alabama but moved to Littleton, Colorado, just outside of Denver. She is a singer and a great songwriter. She writes terrific lyrics. Our daughter, Savannah Renee is 10 years old. She loves to draw, paint and color. She is very talented and artistic like her mother.  Our son Cade Anson is five. He loves riding in his electric car and playing golf.

DM: Just like his Dad

AF: Yea…I just hope he gets better at it than I am. I caught the golf bug when I was about 40.

DM: You didn’t have any interest in golf growing up.

AF: They didn’t have any courses in my hometown of Plano until the mid 70’s. They have golf courses and country clubs just about everywhere now.  

DM: Where do you like to play?

AF: There is a country club close to the house up here in McKinney. I get out there every chance I get.

DM: OK, help me out here. I love music and I love sports but I don’t play guitar and I don’t golf. Is there any connection or correlation between the two?

AF: Golf, like music is kind of an addiction. You are constantly trying to achieve that unattainable perfection. I always heard when you become really good at golf you become one with the ball. It’s mindless concentration. Music is the same way.  When you’re having a good day in the studio or on stage it just pours out.  It’s mindless concentration.

DM: No one really retires from music but you have stepped away from it as a daily part of your life. From our conversation I sense you miss the music.

AF: I do miss the music, miss playing, miss the friends I made. Things will never be the same for me musically. I don’t think I’ll ever travel like I used to. I don’t think it’s possible anymore. It’s hard to leave those kids.

DM: Speaking of kids, how did your appearance at the Rock Academy of San Diego come about?

AF: Scottie got hold of me a couple of months ago. He talked to me about the academy and it sounded like a great idea. I don’t always know what to tell kids who ask me questions about guitar. Guitar playing is just something I do. I can either play something or I can’t. I don’t analyze it all that much. I don’t think of myself as a blues scientist. I mean, how do you teach a kid what not to play, how to give the notes a place to breath, give them some air… that kind of thing.

DM: How did you learn those things?

AF:  I don’t really know for sure. I’ve been playing for so long. When I was a kid I got this old cheap guitar. It was really just a box with a hole in the middle with strings. A woman gave me a small crate full of 45’s. In it were some songs I heard for the first time. Hide-A-Way by Freddie King, Snow Cone by Albert Collins and Honkytonk by Bill Dogget, with Billy Butler on guitar, these were the first songs I recall that had an impact on me.

In 1969 I went down to a club in Dallas called The Losers Club. I saw B.B. King play and got a chance to meet him and hang out with him for awhile. The whole experience rocked my world. Musically it was the greatest thing I have ever seen. It was a real special moment for me. He made me feel important. Here is a guy who is a huge star and yet he was gracious with his time. I’ll never forget it. That’s the way you are supposed to treat people.

DM: Now there is some kid who gets to say, “I got to spend an afternoon with Anson Funderburgh. He gave me some advice and a few pointers.”

AF: I’m no B.B. King or anything like that but if I had a positive impact on just one kid’s life then that’s a wonderful thing.

DM: What’s the largest misconception people have about blues music?

AF: I think a lot of folks miss the point entirely.

DM: What is that?

AF: The point is blues music can be so much f*ckin fun. I have spent my whole life watching other people dance. That is fun. The music that I learned to play was designed to get people to dance. When we’re doing it right it’s called skirt poppin’ music. You know what I’m talking about…push dancing we called it in North Texas. They called it whip dancing down in Houston. In other places they called it Shag dancing. The places we used to play were named after the dances. The Whip Club and so on...They call it different things in different parts of the country. Out there in your neck of the woods Dave, we would play dances at the Palomino in L.A. Even at the Belly Up Tavern down San Diego way we had people up dancing until the dance floor got too crowded. I think a lot of folks lost sight of the fact that this music is just plain fun.

DM: Is there anything else you'd like to impart to our readers?

AF: Just that life is short, you'd better find some good in it.

- David Mac

July 17^th commemorates the 5 year anniversary of the passing of the one and only Sam Myers. This article is dedicated to his memory.

Sam Myers 2/19/36 – 7/17/06

Taken December 8, 2001- Blue Cafe, Long Beach, CA