BLUES JUNCTION Productions
7343 El Camino Real
Suite 327
Atascadero, CA 93422-4697
info
David Mac (DM): You obviously found the matchbook cover.
Rick Estrin (RE): It was weird too because I found it really quick. It was in the first place I looked, which was crazy because I've never been real organized or anything, especially back then.
Like I said, after that Tucker gig I had slid right back into my regular lowdown lifestyle and I hadn't really given much thought to running into Charles or what he said about playing together.
However, that one comment from that one guy, for some reason lit a fire under my ass. It triggered something and I called Little Charlie that same day.
When I talked to him, he told me he had a couple little gigs. He said to come on up and we could try it out and see how it worked. Whenever the date of that first gig was, maybe a week or two later, I caught the Greyhound bus up to Sacramento.
Even though I'm from San Francisco, which is only like 90 miles away, I had never really been to Sacramento before. When I went up there, it was summertime.
DM: So, it was hot as hell.
RE: Oh yeah…as you know Dave,San Francisco weather is pretty unique. Christmas might have perfectly blue skies and be 74 degrees and on the 4th of July it might be 40 degrees, thick fog and windy as hell. I had lived in Chicago, so I was hip to oppressive, Midwest, humid type summers, but the heat in Sacramento in the summertime, that valley heat is a whole 'nother deal.
This will give you an idea how clueless I was. I wanted to make a good impression, first gig with these guys and everything.
I had this long, “Superfly” looking, leather coat. I'm thinking I'm really stylin', trying to look hip, represent as much as you can when you're exiting a Greyhound bus. Man, I got off that bus and out on the sidewalk. I felt that valley heat. I can only imagine what those guys thought when they pulled up to get me and its 115 degrees and I'm standing there in a leather coat down to my ankles.
DM: (laughing) hang on a second…let me try and get a visual…ok, proceed.
RE: Oh, it gets better…I got off the bus carrying a boom box, blasting bootleg alternate takes of Little Walter. Just oblivious...what a fuckin' freak!
So, Little Charlie and this other guy, Kenny Ray Ladner (later on he called himself Kenny Blue Ray), came and picked me up there at the Sacramento Greyhound station. There was a little small scene in Sacramento at the time. Johnny Heartsman was living there. There was a Bobby Bland style singer named Bobby "Blues" Ray. There was a harp player from Alabama named Johnny Ayers who played some cool stuff. Real simple…but his phrasing and stuff, he knew where to put it. Nate Shiner was also there.
Then there was Steve Samuels, he was a onehanded guitar player. Great musician too.
DM: I remember that guy. He was actually an excellent guitar player….very versatile.
RE: He played left handed, upside down and he would pick with this little callous on the end of his nub. He knew theory, shitloads of chords, lots of voicings and substitutions. Pretty amazing...
I ended up living on his couch my first several months in Sacramento, basically until I could get my standard, ‘girlfriend with a job’ routine in place.
That six months when Steve Samuels took me in, was a big help to me in just getting acclimated.
DM: I don’t know how many people realize just how far Sacramento is from San Francisco not geographically, but in terms of a social and cultural scene. San Francisco has a very worldly, big city feel and all that this would imply. While Sacramento, despite the fact it is the State Capital has a real, dare I say, Midwestern, small town, farming community feel about it. At least it did back on the 70’s. That had to be an adjustment for you.
RE: Thanks for bringing that up. Steve really helped me in transitioning from a tenderloin dwelling, bottom feeding, dope fiend type mindset, so little by little I was adjusting to a slower, less threatening, small town environment.
There were some awkward moments for a while because whatever social skills I had were definitely geared to a different type of scene.
Anyway, the way the band was when I first joined was Charlie would play harp for the first part of the night, because before I joined the band he was primarily a harp player. He was really just then getting serious about playing guitar. Kenny Ray played second guitar in the band at that time, so the way the show would go in those days was Charlie would play harp on the first set and after that he'd switch to guitar.
DM: I think even to this day a lot of folks don’t realize that Charlie plays harp.
RE: He was a hell of a harmonica player too. You'd be shocked if you could hear what he sounded like back then. That same kind of fire and imagination he has on guitar he brought to the harp. Playing with Little Charlie really made me re-focus on getting my shit together as a player and as a performer. I also had to get my other shit together because I could see if I didn't, I was going to be an afterthought in that band.
DM: Help me out with a time frame here Rick.
RE: 1976, that was right around disco days. Blues was not real popular. We didn't work that much for the first year or two. We gradually built it up, but at first it was kind of a pitiful little scene. That first year we'd have maybe three or four gigs a month, all real low-level stuff. We played a couple biker bars, the Aero Club and the Trap Door, places where we'd typically end up owing them money because our bar tab would be more than we were supposed to get paid. It wasn't because we were drinking that much. The pay was just that shitty.
Once in a while we used to play a place called the Gallant Men's Club.
DM: The Gallant Men’s Club?
RE: I know…the name sounds like a gay bar from the days of the Knights of the Round Table or some shit but it was more like a juke joint. It was an afterhours, ghetto speakeasy. It opened after the bars closed.
They had after hours drinking and gambling and they'd have a band. Johnny Heartsman was the main guy who played in there, but when something better came up for him, sometimes they'd use us. Once in a while we'd also get these weird gigs at McClellan Air Force Base at the Enlisted Men's Club. There was usually nobody and really nothing in there, maybe a pool table, and hardly anyone ever showed up except the one guy that, who knows why, kept hiring us. Maybe once in a while there'd be a couple more people.
We did a few other air base gigs. We did the NCO club, backing Lowell Fulson or Charles Brown, but even those guys wouldn't draw too well in those days.
One thing Charlie and I used to do a lot of though, is just get together and play. At that time, he lived in a small apartment in a hospital zone so we couldn't make noise there.
I was crashing on Steve Samuel’s couch, so I didn't really have a place, but we'd take a couple quarts of beer, and go out to this spot by the railroad tracks and just play for ourselves.
We got into trying to play John Lee Williamson and Big Joe Williams, Jazz Gillum and Big Bill type stuff "pre-war" "Bluebird" Chicago type stuff. We were working our way back. It's beautiful music just on its own, but I also had in mind that I wanted to go back and try, as much as I could, to build myself the same kind of foundation on the harp that Little Walter and the great Chicago players had. Looking back, I think the time we put in working on that type of stuff, turned out to be an important element in the way our thing evolved. And, for me personally, learning to incorporate, and internalizing some of the mechanics of John Lee Williamson's harmonica style really helped me develop a deeper, more natural sounding, pocket.
Anyway, little by little, the band started getting our shit together. We started gaining a little popularity, locally.
Then we started expanding our territory to include the Bay Area. Around that same time Robert Cray was expanding his territory into California, venturing out of the Northwest. We got to know those guys and we started getting some gigs in their scene, up in Eugene, and Portland, Oregon.
The band was getting a little better, and gradually getting more popular. We started developing our show. And personally, I was getting my shit a little more together.
I got in the longshoremen's union.
I worked at the port, worked at the rice mill, that was seasonal. I did one stretch for about a year working as a janitor. I started supplementing my little music money like that instead of just strictly being a leach. I worked like that, on and off, for two or three years until the band started getting popular enough for me to scrape by off just the music.
DM: How were things going for you personally?
RE: I started tapering off methadone maintenance and finally got free from that shit and the fog started lifting from my brain. It still took me a few years to figure out that I was much better off being completely sober, but getting free from opiates, man, I can't even tell you, that was a supreme game changer. And as I was personally getting my shit together, at the same time, little by little, I started gradually, and naturally, developing an act.
DM: You and your bands have always engaged in that lost art form of stage craft. Let’s talk about that aspect of a Rick Estrin fronted band.
RE: Well Dave, I think I always had it in me somewhere to be an entertainer, but I really owe a lot to Rodger Collins and the time I got to spend around him when I was a teenager.
I've seen a lot of the greatest performers of my time.
All types, from James Brown to Howlin' Wolf to Elvis, to Redd Foxx and Rudy Ray Moore and Rodger Collins was a great entertainer.
He had a wealth of show business knowledge and for some reason he was willing to share it with me. He was a master at handling an audience. He could do all kinds of stuff, sing and dance. He could play guitar and he could really work it. He knew how to entertain people with the guitar. He could do comedy. He could do impressions. He knew how to just captivate the shit out of a crowd…just hold 'em transfixed. Take 'em on a trip. But I'll tell you one of the most valuable lessons I picked up from being around him and watching him. He did everything his own way.
In other words, Rodger Collins the performer was just a slightly edited, larger than life version of the same guy he was when I was just hangin' with him riding around kickin' it in the car. Whether he was being funny or being serious, he knew how to turn up the volume on his own natural personality and utilize it on the bandstand. I saw him doing that, and sometimes he would explain to me why certain things are effective and why other things won't work, but it took me years to find my own way to put those lessons into practice.
I applied those principles, but used my own personality. Gradually, I got more comfortable with myself on and off the bandstand. Getting off drugs was a big key to the whole thing. My brain was beginning to kick in a little bit. I got more comfortable and I became a better observer.
DM: …which is one of the main components to good writing.
RE: This is when I started writing some of my own material. I also started finding good, obscure songs to cover, songs that nobody else was doing.
DM: Such as…
RE: Songs like Eyes Like a Cat, Clothes Line, Run Me Down and others that most people had never heard. Songs that could be identified with us. That way if people liked it, they had to come see us 'cause nobody else was doing it. Basically, I was beginning to get my shit together. I was building an act and figuring out how to make a living by just being myself. The beautiful thing about that is, when you're just being yourself, it's hard to fuck it up.
DM: Your songwriting is a major part of what separates your music from the pack. Your skill in this area is something that is a real calling card. Let’s talk about writing and your approach to this aspect of your music.
RE: Well, from a real young age, songs felt real powerful to me. I've always been kind of a dreamer. Living in my head a lot…I lived in kind of my own little world.
As a kid, I'd listen to music and just trip. Plus, I told you, my sister had those records by people like Jimmy Reed and Mose Allison and for writing the kind of stuff I like, two of the very greatest, right? So, I was trippin' off that stuff from a real young age. Also, Lieber and Stoller, the stuff they wrote for the Coasters. I like the way the songs would be almost like little movies. I loved that stuff. Sad songs too would really get to me. When I got that Genius Sings the Blues album by Ray Charles, I'd put that record on and just sit there wallowing in my little twelve year old’s self-pity. Looking back at that scene, a twelve-year-old kid being so serious about his dumbass misery….
DM: You were just exhibiting some maturity. It usually takes a person in their teens to do the self-pity routine.
RE: It's kind of funny now, but that shit was real to me at the time and to be honest, I still do a version of the same thing. I'll just sit somewhere, parked in the car and have these little private sessions communing with Percy Mayfield or somebody.
I'm still the same guy, but I just don't take it as seriously. Like I'm not at the mercy of my emotions to the same extent. I learned how to just keep movin'…do what I got to do.
Sorry Dave, I guess I went off on a little tangent.
DM: No problem. I’m billing you by the hour.
RE: (laughs) Anyway, I think I always believed I could probably write, because I felt like I knew what made a good song or at least I partly understood what worked on me as a listener. There were a couple different times as a kid when I tried to write a little bit, but I never stuck with it. But, back to Rodger Collins again, when I started being more serious about trying to write, I could refer back to all the stuff he used to tell me years before when he would encourage me to write. He would really take the time, and explain to me some of the different elements that went into writing actual songs. I remembered all that stuff probably because I could see it was correct.
One of the main things I got from Rodger was not to settle for the easy solution.
DM: I think I know what you mean by that, but if you could expand on that concept…
RE: Once in a while you might get a free one, but most of the time it takes work. Sometimes it takes a lot of work.
Don't just go for the obvious, easy rhyme. Make it make sense and be consistent with tense, meter, rhyme schemes and melodies all matching up, all the way through. The lyric also needs to be singable. Needs to fit in the groove so it can be sung in a way where it can lay in the pocket.
DM: …and that is just the beginning.
RE: That’s right. You have to try to put some imagination, color, life and flair into it. Maybe put a little twist in there too.
I try and keep my ears open for ideas. I overheard this lady in a bar one time say, ‘Oh, he wants to play ditch the bitch. That's alright, I can play dump the chump.’ I mentally filed that one and a couple years later, when I needed a song, there it was. So yeah, keep your ears open. There's just so many things.
Sometimes editing might be the biggest part of creating a song.
One observation, or maybe it's just my opinion, but a lot of times I think people trying to write songs, or even people just playing an instrument, think that because they're feeling it, it's automatically going to have that same effect on somebody else.
Like in the case of songwriting specifically, they'll think because it's true, like because it really happened to them and is meaningful to them, that it's going to mean something to somebody else. It doesn't necessarily work that way.
I'm primarily a fan, so I can just tell you what makes a song effective to me.
DM: What’s that?
RE: It's when the lyric's talking about something I can identify with and describing it in a way that just nails the shit out of whatever that subject matter or feeling is. Sometimes it might just be one little line that puts the whole lyric over the top. When the words are matched to the right music or vice versa, because it can happen either way. Then you have a song or at least you've got something that can be built into a song.
The thing that's so powerful about music and songs, and some blues songs in particular, is that identification. Like when you think you're all alone, you can find out you're not. There can be a lot of comfort there.
I should probably issue a disclaimer with my opinions. Most of these "rules" are loose rules. They're great examples of exceptions to almost all this stuff. In the end, the only real rule of songwriting should be, ‘Is it good enough?’
DM: Are there any songs which you have written that make you particularly proud?
RE: I might sound like an egomaniac or something, but yeah, there's a lot of 'em I feel pretty good about. There's actually so many I like, I can't even name them all off the top of my head. But hey, like Joe Louis Walker always says, "It's a poor dog that can't wag his own tail"
DM: Go ahead and wag.
RE: I'll just tell you about a few…just whatever pops into my head right now. Ok, well I'm probably more known for funny stuff, quirky shit, and wiseass type stuff, but there're some serious songs that I feel really good about too. There's one I wrote called I'll Bet I Never Cross Your Mind from the Little Charlie & the Nightcats That's Big album. That's one where I was really trying to get into my Percy Mayfield bag. I really felt that sucker when I was writing it. Percy had passed by then, but I really wish I could've played that one for him. And the title track off that same record, That's Big. We still do that one. We put a new version of it on our 2014 CD, You Asked For It - Live! That song, that was like my tribute to the late, great Robin Harris. I dig that one.
There's another one called I'll Never Do That No More; I really like that one too. It's like a Lieber and Stoller, Coasters type thing, but targeted at adults instead of teenagers.
Another one I'm proud of, and it's more serious…not my typical thing, is a soul ballad called What Love Can Do. It's on Wee Willie Walker's CD If Nothing Ever Changes. I think that one really works. Of course, it doesn't hurt that it's being performed by the best soul singer in the world today. That definitely maximizes the emotional impact when you hear it.
But really, I've got so many songs, I'd have to go to the BMI website and look at the catalog to remind myself. Some of the obvious old ones are like Next Ex-Wife, Don't Do It, Dump That Chump, I'll Take You Back…..I got a lotta damn songs.
Oh, hey…I really like this song off the One Wrong Turn album, this song Callin' All Fools. I just feel like that's my personal song.
Funny thing happened with that song too. This past January, Joe Walker took me, ZacHarmon, Murali Coryell, Ian Siegal - We all went with Joe and his band to this Caribbean island called Mustique.
We played there two weeks and it was crazy. It's a little, privately owned island, and it's all like British billionaires, people like the royal family, but still, some real nice people. All just mega high society folks, captains of British industry, movers and shakers, Mick Jagger was even there…crazy! It's a whole other world. Anyway, for some reason, the people there just really dug Calling All Fools. In my little part of the show that was the song everyone was asking me for, after a couple nights they were singing along with it and shit. On the last night, a bunch of 'em wore Callin' All Fools t-shirts! They had 'em made! These t-shirts that said ‘Rick's Fools’ on the front. Shocked the SHIT outta me. It was sweet, but it also made me feel kind of weird, pretty self-conscious, but it was very sweet.
DM: It is a great song. While we are on the topic of songwriting, you referenced a man earlier who is known as the “poet laureate of the blues” Percy Mayfield.
RE: Dave, Percy Mayfield was one of my big favorites. He was just a cool motherfucker and a bona fide genius. He was another guy who was real encouraging to me about my writing. I'll tell you how I met Percy because it's one of those scenes from my life, one of those things that as I get older, it's the kind of stuff that seems to mean the most to me. Sometime in the early '80's, I had written the song TV Crazy. We had started doing it on the bandstand and people seemed to be diggin' it, and at that time I figured that was as far as it'd go.
I didn't think we'd ever make a record or anything because in those days, you had to be almost big time to actually make a record. It wasn't like now when every delusional amateur at the local blues jam has a CD out.
Anyway, there was a place in Oakland where we used to play back then sometimes called Eli's Mile High Club. The guy who owned Eli's, Troyce Key, was a musician, and Troyce and JJ Malone had a band called the Rhythm Rockers which was the Eli's house band. They had made an album for this English blues label Red Lightnin' and one day it popped in my head that TV Crazy would be a good fit for Troyce so I said ‘fuck it’, and drove down to Oakland to pitch it to him. When I got there, Troyce was standing out in front of the club, shootin' the shit with Percy, who was working there that night. I told Troyce about the song and just started showing it to him, singing it right there on the sidewalk. I got through one verse and Percy was smiling - And then, on the second verse, Percy started singing along on the little refrain part, the TV Crazy part. When I got done, Percy was laughing and he asked me, he said, "You wrote that? Man, that's a good song!"
DM: Wow…a compliment like that from that man had to be a pretty heady moment for you.
RE: It might not sound like much, but man, I felt like a little kid on top of the world. Next time I saw him, he told me "I'm going to take you on the road with me...but I don't want no harmonica. I just want you to keep me company"
DM: I find the topic of songwriting interesting for a lot of reasons not the least of which that there is always this romanticized mystique associated with the writing process.
RE: Y'know Dave, I used to panic a little bit, 'cause in this business, if you want to continue having a career, you gotta keep coming up with fresh stuff, and then you also want to maintain your standards and everything. You don't want to settle too much. I used to panic and think maybe I don't have any more in me…but, it's always there.
For the most part, I still have the same brain that came up with a couple hundred songs. I just have to put in the time… sweat 'em out. I'm always conflicted.
DM: Why?
RE: Because I'm naturally lazy, but I'm also kind of a perfectionist. I believe I need to maintain certain standards. So sometimes, when I'm feeling the pressure, like it's been too long and I really need to get something new out there, I'll read some things about other people's process, "looking for inspiration…" It's probably really just another distraction to avoid just diggin' down and doing the work. But I'll read this type of stuff…mostly all stuff I already know anyway, but there're a couple of quotes that stuck;one is from Yip Harburgh. He was an old Tin Pan Alley guy. He wrote all kinds of great, classics…big hits like, Somewhere Over the Rainbow, iconic stuff like that. Anyway, somebody asked him how he came up with all that stuff, like where did his ideas come from? He told 'em something like ‘Nothin' to it - I just sit down and stare at a blank piece of paper 'til blood comes out of my forehead.’
DM: Wow…that pretty much sums it up.
RE: That one really stuck. It's a good reminder that maybe it's not supposed to be easy. Like I said, once in a while I'll get a free one, but usually it takes work. Hell, if it was easy, everyone could do it. Then I'd have to get a job.
Another quote I held on to was from Sammy Kahn, he wrote a ton of stuff for Sinatra. They asked him which came first, the lyrics or the music? His answer was ‘the phone call.’ In other words, he wrote 'em when he needed 'em. That one made me feel a little better about how lazy I can get.
Anyway, I keep trying to think of new songs, wrestling with my brain trying to come up with something that'll work.
I think I've got some good ones on this next CD too.
The record's gonna be called Groovin' in Greaseland and it's supposed to come out in August. It'll be the first one with our new drummer, Alex Pettersen.
DM: Because of what we have been talking about, a new Nightcats album is cause for celebration. However, I would like to back up a bit and talk about your early experiences with recording under the banner of Little Charlie and the Nightcats.
RE: I'll never forget how exciting it was to be signed to a real label and Alligator was a bigtime label too, in the blues world…still is. That was a huge thrill because it was a whole different era and making a real record back then was a big deal. It represented a major leap up to the next level. Plus, making a record back then was a really involved, expensive process.
Now days, with technology the way it is, it's so inexpensive and easy to make a record, compared to what it used to be.
Anyone can do it and finance it themselves. With auto tune, sampling, click tracks and shit, plus you can digitally just move shit around to make it be in time, all that stuff. Now you got suckers making CDs that barely qualify for the sign-up sheet on jam night. So, because it's become so accessible, the significance of even making a record has been cheapened.Of course, the flip side is, all that technology has made it easier and quicker and cheaper for legitimate people too. The difference is, I was around when you had to actually pay your dues before you could even think about making a record.
Sorry Dave, I got off on a tangent again, but I guess what triggered that little rant was just thinking about those early records and all that was involved.
DM: This perspective you are sharing with our readers here Rick is important because you have seen the changes as a result of this technology.
RE: Back then it was kind of a challenge for me too. Because there was the crazy excitement of making a real record, but I also had a hard time with the pressure of that ‘time is money’ element hangin' over everything. I mean, I love Bruce (Igular) and Little Charlie and if it wasn't for both those guys, I'd probably be sleeping on a cot in my sister's basement right now, but man... Since that time, they've both mellowed out a lot but in those days, they were both like “type quadruple A” personalities.
Little by little though, I started getting more relaxed in the studio. For me, having the right engineer is maybe the single most important factor.
Kid, at the board, is absolutely the all-time best, but in the Little Charlie days, once we started using Jerry Hall, things got a lot easier for me. Prior to that, most of the guys we used came from pop and rock backgrounds. I'm sure they were knowledgeable in their own way. They knew how to operate the board and they were competent and everything, but I never had the feeling they completely ‘got’ what we were going for. But Jerry, he had worked at Motown and by the time we started using him he'd been working with James Harman for a while, so he had a lot better understanding of what kind of sound we wanted, plus, I could tell he actually understood where my whole thing was coming from. He was just a pretty cool guy and I felt a lot more comfortable working with him.
DM: Let’s talk about traveling with this band and those halcyon days of the 80’s and 90’s blues revival of which Little Charlie and the Nightcats were such an important part?
RE: I can tell you, it was a whole different world back then. We were younger, the audience was younger, and the blues was a lot more popular than it had ever been in my lifetime.
We played lots of nicer, bigger, more legit type venues. We still played small clubs too, but the scene overall was just much more happening. There were so many clubs and festivals and things between Europe and the US, you could just stay on the road.
But Dave when we put out that first Alligator record and hit the road in '87…we didn't know what the hell we were doing. I mean we had done our little west coast, up and down I-5 mini-tours and stuff, but all of a sudden, we were driving all across the country, staying out for three or four months at a time…doing nine, ten and sometimes eleven one nighters in a row. Kicked my ass…and it took us a while to figure out how to do it.but the scene overall was just much more happening. There were so many clubs and festivals and things between Europe and the US, you could just stay on the road.
Like if we wanted to minimize the likelihood of divorce, murder and suicide, we needed to at least make a visit home every couple of months…stuff like that. For the most part, it worked out too. No murders or suicides anyway.
DM: Well, I’m glad to hear that.
RE: We also realized early on that doubling up in motel rooms wasn't going to work. I know a lot of bands do things differently, but there also aren't a lot of bands who've existed on the road for 30 years. When you see us on the bandstand, we're actually having fun together. During the day and at meals and shit, we actually enjoy fuckin' around, just kickin' it with each other. Of course, a lot of that is 'cause we're actually friends, but I don't know if it'd stay that way without single rooms. So, if someone's looking to book us, asking us to double up is a deal breaker. I mean you're around each other in close quarters all day traveling, then you're working together at night and then you're supposed to listen to the same motherfucker snoring and farting all night long? Doesn't work for me.
DM: The logistics alone had to be kind of a nightmare at least at first...
RE: You can't believe what it was like trying to find some of these places back then. In those days, you'd usually hit the major markets on weekends, then on weeknights, you'd route through smaller towns and cities and play smaller, funky little gigs just to connect the dots. So, imagine trying to find some godforsaken shithole like Waubeek, Iowa, (which, believe it or not, turned out to be a fun place to play), but I mean try finding that fucker with an atlas….no cell phones, no GPS, they hadn't even come out with pagers yet. You're just out there, Jack. Good luck. After a couple years we had it pretty well dialed in, but at first, it was a bitch.
DM: Are you telling me that knowing where Waubeek, Iowa, is on a map had future applications. (laughing) But seriously despite the challenges, like having to apologize to all the Webeeckeans out there, much of this travel had to be very rewarding.
RE: Absolutely…there were a lot of fun times too. Seeing places for the first time…and going back to places you dug. All the different people you meet and some of 'em you even get to know and care about. I've known some wonderful, beautiful people thanks to this business.
I’ve been all over the world. Seen places I would've otherwise never had the opportunity to see. Made some good friends.
And among the bands too, there's a sort of comradarie.
Different musicians you meet, and get to know over the years crisscrossing the country - sometimes playing shows together or maybe just running into each other in different places… festivals and things.
Like me and our friend Tony Coleman used to fuck with each other. Leave messages and talk shit about each other on dressing room walls all over the country…silly, but some funny shit.
This might sound corny, but it's really like a brotherhood. I mean, when you've lived this life for years and years, nobody understands it except for somebody who's been out there doing the same thing.
Oh man, in the '80s up into the '90s we used to be sponsored by Miller Beer. There was a whole bunch of us. Anson and Sam and the Rockets, the Paladins, Buckwheat Zydeco, the Dynatones, the Tailgators, Delbert (McClinton) I can't even think of 'em all. Every January they'd fly us all to Milwaukee for something like "Miller Genuine Draft Band Network, Orientation Week" or what I called, “Beer School.”
The idea was, they'd try and teach us how to act so we could represent Miller Brewing Company, promote Miller Beer and ‘responsible’ drinking. They had a slogan, "Think when you drink." Never worked out too well for me, but whatever...they would help the bands with promotional stuff, posters, print ads for gigs in different towns, stuff like that. Overall it was a really good deal. You just weren't supposed to be seen drinking any other kind of beer, which wasn't a problem for me because I had already quit drinking anyway. There were a bunch of equipment sponsors affiliated with it too. Free stuff, mostly nothing I needed. I know Little Charlie loaded up on that stuff.
Maybe I'm weird, but looking back, that shit was fun too, the social part, especially after the first year when I realized I didn't even have to go to class. I'd just spend the whole week hanging out in the hallway, shootin' the shit. Milwaukee in January. You couldn't go nowhere, but some of us less studious types would just hang out bullshittin' about different club owners, promoters, and different people we knew in common, and all the places that were in the regular rotation.
When I look back, I think I was born to do this. The way I am, I'd make a real poor employee anyway. Sometimes people ask me if I'm tired of living in hotels and eating in restaurants? To be honest, not yet. Shit, give me some clean sheets, a remote control and a "Do Not Disturb" sign and I'm good.
DM: I think that question comes from folks who constitute a vast majority who have “straight jobs.” They go to the same office, factory or job site of some kind and do the same thing more or less every day, five days a week. They take and follow directions. That is not you Rick. They are fascinated by this lifestyle and perhaps at the very least curious as to how you do it, if not on some level down right envious.
RE: There's something about the idea of making my living like this. I really like the idea that in a way, I invented my own job and the fact that I've been lucky enough to make my way in this world by basically just being myself? When I think about it, I got to admit, that shit just makes me feel good.
For me, there's also something about traveling with a purpose It's completely different than traveling for a vacation or something. I can't really explain it, but it's been my life for a long time and there's still something about being out there that feels right at home to me.
DM: About ten years ago or so you were forced, due to the retirement of Charlie Baty, to transition from Little Charlie to what would be known as Rick Estrin and the Nightcats.
RE: Well, first, I got to tell you, I'm real aware that I've had incredible good luck with guitar players. I pretty much hit the power ball in the guitar player lottery twice. Little Charlie and Kid Andersen. Both are certifiable geniuses as far as I'm concerned, but two really different guys. Different from each other, and each one different from everyone else.
When I realized Little Charlie was really going to quit, I didn't know what the hell I was going to do. I had been playing with the guy over 30 years. Crazy, right? I was kind of stunned, because for one thing, he'd been saying he was going to quit every year for probably twenty years…no shit!
So, at first when he said it, I didn't even take it seriously.
Then, when I started hearing it from other people. Like when halfway random people in the audience started asking me what was I going to do, I realized...’Damn, maybe he really means it this time.’
I asked him about it, and he confirmed that yeah, he was really going to quit at the end of 2007. Man, I didn't know what the hell I was going to do 'cause to be honest, I've always been more of a dreamer than a take charge and make shit happen kind of guy, but I was in a corner. I knew I had to do something, and when it comes down to it, it's like what they say..."one monkey, etc..."
So, I've got this friend in Brazil, Flavio Guimaraes, a harp player, he'd been asking me for years to come down there by myself and do a tour with a Brazilian band. I had always turned him down because my first priority was always the Nightcats, but since Charles told me he was hangin' it up, I figured now's the time and I better take him up on it. I also knew I had to begin educating people that my name's not Charlie.
For decades, I'd be standing on the bandstand, on the mic all night long, talkin' about, ‘Let's hear it for Little Charlie on the guitar! Give it up ladies and gentlemen, one of a kind… Little Charlie on the guitar!’ Man, I'd get off the bandstand and people would always be coming up to me going ”Hey Charlie… you rock on that harmonica!"
But I was the guy in the front, so I was Charlie. So, I knew the first thing I had to do was that I had to teach 'em my damn name.
So, I accepted this solo tour in Brazil and I needed something to sell, some kind of product with my name on it. Partly to beef up my dough, but maybe even more as a calling card. So, I decided to cut a more harmonica focused, solo CD so I could get something out under my own name.
DM: How did you hook up with the great Kid Andersen?
RE: At the time Kid was married to his first wife and living in Sacramento. I already knew Kid from Charlie Musselwhite's band. I knew he was a hell of a guitar player. I didn't know yet how special he was, but I did know that any time he sat in with us, he wasn't intimidated at all. He would bring it! I mean he could absolutely hang with Little Charlie, and he'd obviously be having fun while he was doing it.
I also knew he was trying to be some kind of recording engineer, had some little equipment, stuff like that. He was just getting started with that. Greaseland was in its embryonic stages. Kid was the obvious choice for making this CD that turned out to be called On The Harpside.
DM: Let’s talk about some of the ingredients that went into that terrific album.
RE: Kid was the engineer and played guitar. I had Rusty Zinn on guitar too. I had Lorenzo Farrell and J Hanson from the Nightcats as well as Bob Welsh, Ronnie James…all top-notch guys. We cut it in two days. I did some blues covers, a couple of improvised instrumentals, we did new versions of a couple of old Nightcat songs, Big and Fat and Lottery. We cut a version of Harlem Nocturne with Kid on baritone guitar. It turned out real nice.
That record still sells right today. So, I made that CD and I also made a blues harmonica instructional DVD and that thing is a whole 'other story.
Anyway, considering how long it normally takes me to do any damn thing, I scrambled around and knocked out those two things pretty quick, because I felt like my back was against the wall. So, I took that stuff with me and went and toured Brazil and Argentina by myself, and it was a real eye opener for me. First of all, in Brazil, Flavio put me with Igor Prado's band. Great band, young guys who play their asses off and they knew my tunes. Before I went, Igor and I were emailing each other, so he could get the band ready, he was asking me what songs I was going to do and when I'd name one of my own songs, he'd come back with "That's a classic!"
So, I started thinking, if there were guys like that in Brazil, guys that learned how to play by listening to us, right along with listening to the original guys that we learned from, then maybe there were bands like that in other countries too. And maybe, I wouldn't even have to worry about having a band and all those headaches that go along with it. I could just travel around by myself, have different bands in different regions, and be like a low-budget, second tier version of Chuck Berry.
The only thing was, I knew Lorenzo Farrell and J Hanson of the Nightcats really wanted to keep the band going, but I swear, I had no idea who the hell we could get. I couldn't think of anyone because one thing I knew for sure was, I didn't want some merely super competent, generic guy, or even a perfectly excellent guy. It had to be someone really special because I knew didn't want the band to be perceived as just a diminished version of Little Charlie and the Nightcats.
Then one-day Kid called me up out of the blue, wanting to talk about something totally unrelated and he mentioned that he was currently unemployed. He had quit the Musselwhite band to try something else that didn't work out. I told him about Little Charlie's retirement and asked if he'd be interested in playing with the Nightcats, he said yeah, and just like that a whole new era began for the band. There was no thought or hesitation on my part 'cause from the different times Chris had sat in with us, I knew he could be a perfect fit; at the time I just didn't know how perfect. In so many ways too - I mean, he's also a beautiful nut, so on the bandstand, I instantly had myself a co-clown because Kid don't give a FUCK. You never know what he's going to do. And then musically, Kid just gets it. He knows and hears and understands everything and yet he's still open minded. In the studio, like I said, as an engineer he's hands down, the best.
Plus, as needed, he can just go ahead and play any part you need on damn near any instrument! So, as you know Dave, Kid's originally from Norway, even though most of the time you can't even tell it. I mean he's pretty thoroughly assimilated, been living here for over 15 years, but it's kind of funny, his official status with the U.S. Government is "Resident Alien of Extraordinary Ability" For once, they got it right!
So yeah, guitar players are one of those areas of my life, where I've had some ridiculous good luck.
DM: In my interview with Kid from a few years ago he cites you as being a very important figure in battling his substance abuse issues. He was very open about this subject.
RE: Drinking and drugs…let’s see…first of all, I'm not against drinking or anything. Hell, if nobody drank, I wouldn't have a job. But for me, personally, and it took me multiple ass whippin's, but I finally learned that I'm better off not doing any of that shit. I really tried for a lot of years and I absolutely proved it to myself.
When I got off methadone maintenance that last time, maybe around 1980, I thought I could be semi-normal, and just drink alcohol like a regular citizen because most of my life, heroin was what I really liked anyway and I always just thought of drinking as the regular thing that all average Americans did. But after a few years of trying to drink like a normal citizen, that shit got out of hand too. I couldn't control my behavior. I'd drink and my thinking would change like I'd get a little too open minded and some stupid shit was going to seem like a good idea. And what happened was, after a few years of trying to control my drinking, it got to the point where I was starting to feel the same way about myself that I felt during my last dope shootin' days, where I couldn't get fucked up enough to stand myself. When you get to that spot, there's no going back. There’s no way to turn it around and make that shit "fun" again. When you reach that point, if you're wired like I am, you might as well hang it up because it's over. So, for me, after multiple "incidents" it finally became apparent that it was time to get serious about sobriety. And hell, it's not like I missed anything. All my life, for decades, I did anything I felt like doing, every chance I got, and it was just time for another phase in my life.
One way I look at it is, I'm kind of like OCD. I mean, to the point where I'll play solitaire on my phone until I hate myself. So, if I like something, I'm just naturally going to do it to excess and, the fucked-up part is, most of the easiest stuff for me to like, has the potential to be bad for me. So, it might sound harsh, but I've learned that for me, it's a lot about discipline - doing the stuff that gets me good results, instead of doing stuff that just feels good in the moment. I don't always apply that discipline, because I love wasting time, but when I need results, I know what it takes to get 'em.
DM: This might be a good spot to talk about other Nightcats... or at least the wonderful asset that is the very versatile Lorenzo Farrell.
RE: I'm glad you asked. Even though my name is on the band, it's really more of a cooperative deal. Everyone helps out in their own way and everyone's opinion counts. And with Lorenzo, it's kind of ironic that he looks like Jesus (or at least like the common European depiction of Jesus) because in a lot of ways, 'Zo's been the quiet savior of this band.
In addition to being a phenomenal musician, in some indefinable way, like almost just by his presence, he's been the key to maintaining peace and harmony in the group.
He somehow has a leveling effect on people.
And then musically, him switching to organ has added a whole new dimension to the band. Plus, as a soloist, he just plays the hippest shit, like simultaneously surprising and also exactly what you want to hear.
Then too, Lorenzo helps me out a lot on the business end. He's got way more patience and common sense than I have when it comes to dealing with some of the frustrations of this business.
DM: In addition to the recordings you have made with the Nightcats you have produced a harmonica instructional DVD that you alluded to earlier. Let’s talk about that.
RE: It's called "Rick Estrin Reveals! Secrets, Subtleties and Tricks of the Blues Harmonica"
It turned out to be a lot of fun to make too. When I started thinking about doing the DVD, all I had was the name. I thought that title might be alluring. I'd never been a real teacher before or anything and like I said, nobody ever really taught me anything directly at least not on the harmonica. I had no idea what the curriculum was going to be, but I looked at a couple instructional videos and realized I had some different ideas that weren't being addressed. So, I just sat down and thought about it and started writing down my opinions.
I kind of surprised myself because I was coming up with a lot of stuff that it seemed like most guys who call themselves teachers, overlook.
I put in stuff like phrasing tips, and soloing strategies, ideas about the architecture of effective soloing. I talked about musical psychology and the value of contrast, the importance of space - all kinds of stuff. I realized everyone's got their own way of mentally conceptualizing music and that I actually had something to contribute. It also contains a whole section on showbiz devices and get-over, performance tricks - all of this is stuff that took me decades of trial and error to figure out.
I tried to make it entertaining too.
It features several attractive women of all shapes and sizes. I even got one-real cute chick that's an official "little person."
The DVD turned out to be like a springboard to stardom for her too! After that, she went on and starred in one of those cable TV reality shows ‘Little Women of Beverly Hills’ or some shit.
It also contains this borderline biblical, subplot, where a human derelict is transformed into a suave, chick magnet.
I had Rusty on guitar, so we had fun off camera, goofin' around, but in the end, the serious part of it, the informative stuff, actually turned out pretty great.
Before we shot it, I showed the content to the two-best real, harmonica teachers I know, Joe Filisko and David Barrett. They both gave me the thumbs up and gave me some real encouragement along with a of couple suggestions.
Then once I put it out, I was kind of shocked at how well it was received. It's become like a minor cult classic. I mean I figured harp players and maybe even some other musicians would dig it, but there's people who don't even play music that dig it.
DM: One of the great stories to come out of the world of blues and soul music is the re-discovery, if you will, of the great Willie Walker.
RE: I had been diggin' Willie's classic, Memphis and Muscle Shoals records stuff that he cut 40 years ago. I had been diggin that stuff for years. I think Rusty's the one who first hipped me to Warm To Cool To Cold.
Anyway, I had no idea what had happened to the guy. Seemed like he disappeared, I thought maybe he had died. So, around three years ago, we were playing in Minneapolis and a friend of mine, Julia Schroeder who lives there told me she'd pick me up after sound check and take me to see Willie Walker sing at a happy hour gig. I was like, "You mean Wee Willie Walker?!? 'Warm to Cool to Cold' Willie Walker?" She told me, “Yeah.” Told me that it was the same guy, that he lives in Minneapolis and he'd been living there forever. So, we went to this happy hour, small, little neighborhood tavern, after work crowd gig. Willie's singing, sounding absolutely beautiful. He looks like he's kind of half-ignoring this too-loud guitar player who's providing not the most sympathetic accompaniment. Some of the people were into Willie and paying attention, but a lot of folks were just in there visiting, bullshitting, unwinding after work.
Right away it was obvious to me that Willie not only hadn't lost anything vocally, but that he was an absolute top notch vocal artist on a level with only the very best.
I looked around again at the scene, and I mean, there's nothing wrong with it - happy hours serve a purpose, people got to unwind and shit - I understand that - but they were halfway paying attention in the presence of greatness. It just seemed wrong.
Then Julia told me that Willie and his wife were regular, paying passengers on the blues cruise AND that on the cruise, these 3rd rate, wanker guitar players would regularly be dismissive of him at these blues jams on the boat.
I thought about Kid and Greaseland and the possibilities of what we could do and I just imagined the whole thing unfolding. When I got to our gig, I told Kid my idea and he was all over it. Ok, so we were booked on the next cruise, and we had Willie sit in with us and on that cruise, was when we made the plan to have Willie come out to Greaseland and record.
DM: Perfect…
RE: We put together an A team of players. Some of the best people around. Some guys did it in exchange for future studio time, but most people did it just because they wanted to help and be a part of it. Anyway, a bunch of great musicians and great people just came together from their hearts and the results were pure magic.
DM: It is in fact simply an outstanding record.
RE: The list of players is too long to go into here. People can see who's on it when they buy the record, but we went all out. Kid and Jim Pugh had great arrangement ideas. We had some professional, church type, background vocals. Kid even wrote the parts and we had a real string section on one song.
I had a couple tunes that I wrote on the record, one that I wrote with Donnie Woodruff. Kid and I wrote one together, but mostly it was a bunch of obscure songs that I had always dug and always thought should've been hits. Willie brought in the title tune, I brought in maybe twenty songs and out of those, Willie picked eleven.
One we covered that wasn't obscure at all was, we covered Help by the Beatles. Gave it a gospel treatment that to me, fits the lyric way better than the original way the Beatles did it.
We cut a country tune called Not That I Care, that's just killer! Gave it like a Hi Records arrangement. Willie just sang the shit out of it. I got the hair standing up on my arms right now just thinking about Willie's performance on that one.
For me, it was like a dream come true. To be able to watch a vision we had for a perfect soul record come into focus and become a reality beyond anything I could've imagined.
Jim Pugh's non-profit, The Little Village Foundation, ended up releasing the record, so Willie owns the masters himself.
Willie Walker is the greatest classic soul singer in the world today, period. Buy the CD, If Nothing Ever Changes by Wee Willie Walker. If you buy it and you don't like it, you might as well just cut your ears off and flush 'em down the toilet.
DM: You mentioned earlier that a new Rick Estrin and the Nightcats album has been recorded at Greaseland. Let’s talk about that project.
RE: Well, it's supposed to be out in August and we're pretty excited about it. It's called Groovin' In Greaseland. Alex, our new drummer’s on it. His style and drum sound really sets this record apart. J's a great, highly skilled musician, so this isn't a slam on him at all, but Alex's sound, to me, is just fuller and warmer. It's funny 'cause their foundations are a little bit similar. They both have a background of playing Dixieland, and trade jazz type stuff, but I think the difference is, even though J dug the blues, and he has the chops to play anything, he was always more of a rocker at heart.
Alex, on the other hand, has been playing blues, professionally since he was like 15 years old. So that's a big difference.
One of the biggest thrills for us, recording this new record was having Jerry Jemmott play bass on a few tracks. I mean, he's the guy who invented half the vocabulary of electric R & B bass playing. He was in King Curtis' band, played on a bunch of Aretha's stuff, played on B.B.'s The Thrill Is Gone, Freddie King's Cotillion stuff, tons of iconic stuff. He was real cool too.
DM: He played with those jazz people that played that crazy mixed up cat stuff like Less McCann and Eddie Harris, Richard Groove Holmes and even Ray Charles. I think it is so cool that you got him on the new record which freed Lorenzo up to play some B3 I’m guessing.
RE: Seemed like he dug playing with us too. Kid's got a song on there that's kind of a tribute to Lonnie Mack. Lorenzo's got a soul-jazz one called Cold Slaw.
Personally, I keep getting more comfortable with the recording process. When I can just relax and focus, it helps me feel the lyric. I think I'm selling the songs pretty good on this one.
I'm pretty sure I came up with some really good songs this time too. I've got some kind of political stuff on there. I haven't addressed that kind of stuff too much in the past, but the way shit's going here lately, I was feeling it so much, ‘til I had to say something. And of course, it's still me, so it's not all serious.
I've got a couple funny ones on there. One funny one that came out really good is called Dissed Again. I first made up the chorus just goofin' around in the van thinking about something Mark Hummel said. And what happened was, the late Jim E. Johnson, who was our driver at the time, dug it so much, like he couldn't get it out of his head, So I went on and wrote a verse. Man, every morning, as soon as we'd get back in the van, Jim would be asking me to sing it.
I actually showed it to Hummel to see if he'd want to do it, because at first, I couldn't really hear it as something for me. But lucky for me, Hummel passed. I think maybe it wasn't serious enough for him. Kid musta dug it too and he kept telling me we should do it. Thankfully he stayed on my ass about until I finally finished it.
There's another one on their called Tenderhearted that I dig a lot. It's got a ton of atmosphere.
The Blues Ain't Goin' Nowhere is another one I feel good about, but I don't know what else to say, Dave. It’s a kickass band and if I didn't think the songs stood up, they never would have made it to rehearsal.
We used some different amps and different equipment on this record. I think I got maybe a bigger, nastier harp tone on some cuts.
DM: It is always great to hear a new Rick Estrin and the Nightcats album. I look forward to that. Thanks so much for doing this interview Rick. I’m certain our readers will enjoy this.
RE: Thank you Dave and I’ll catch up with you down the road.
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