A few years ago, I was watching a documentary on the history of the electric guitar and the first 45 minutes of the program focused almost exclusively on the blues. This is, of course, how it should be; blues guitar, after all, formed the foundation of what would become rock guitar as reinterpreted by everyone from Chuck Berry to Keith Richards to Jimi Hendrix. But there was one quote from a music historian that stuck out. He was talking about the blues’ drop in popularity in the late ‘50s–early ‘60s. He acknowledged the genre had, in many ways, “lost its natural audience, as black people moved from the blues and towards soul music.”
That line stayed with me, and resurfaced in my mind when I learned that Koko Taylor, the “Queen of the Blues” had passed away at the age of 80. Taylor had a booming, gritty voice that resonated with audiences and her signature song, the Willie Dixon-penned “Wang Dang Doodle,” became a blues staple. Yet, like Bessie Smith, Big Mama Thornton, and countless other female blues singers, her legacy remains largely underappreciated by black folks more familiar with soulful sirens like Aretha, Gladys and Patti, or powerhouse belters like Whitney and Mariah.
The blues, outside of cities like Chicago and Memphis, Tenn., has become almost a forgotten entity among African Americans in the 21st century. And it’s been that way for decades.
Jazz may have dropped in popularity, but it is still a go-to genre for those eager to bask in the genre’s sophisticatedly cool reputation and aesthetic; R&B has been popular for decades and its stylistic shifts every few years keep it relevant and young; hip-hop has been the dominant art form of the past 30 years and influences everything from fashion to slang. Reggae is discovered by every college freshman eager to seem conscious, and gospel has a legion of die-hard fans that listen to its inspiring lyrics and angelic choruses exclusively.
But why have we ignored the blues?
Why don’t we celebrate the music of Robert Johnson, Willie Dixon, and Albert King with the same level of fervor that we laud Marvin Gaye, Sam Cooke and Ray Charles? Why are the biggest blues aficionados typically white guitar players who recognize how Buddy Guy begat Jimi Hendrix begat Stevie Ray Vaughan?
As we praise the life and legacy of the inimitable Koko Taylor, let’s remember that the blues is where much of what we consider late-20th century American popular music began. And before anyone else learned to love it, it was — and still is — ours.
–todd williams
