(Beyond Words)
By Georges Lemaire
Soul Bag Magazine Issue 192
Translated from French
“I used to stutter badly but music saved me. When it was really bad music freed me and gave me courage. The blues talks about the life you've lived and unlike most other kinds of music, the older you get the more stories you have to tell...and the more people want to hear them.”
That's how, Vancouver based singer and guitarist, Wes Mackey describes his music. Soul Bag wrote about his third album last year (see SB 188), and Mackey who recently gave several concerts in France will be at it again in November and on December 6 (2008) in Bagneux, (France) with a new CD under his arm. In his own words, here is his story.
“If you can't say it, sing it.”
I'm the youngest of a family of five children. Janie, Katie, Harry and Joseph are my siblings. Janie is the only one who's still among us. I was born on December 12, 1942, in a small house near the Combahee plantation in South Carolina near a town called Yemassee. There was just a bank, a general store, a café and a juke joint, a kind of a club where you could sometimes hear live music, but mostly the entertainment came from the jukebox. On weekends everyone would meet there after work. Speakers were hung from the trees and all the kids used to dance and have a good time outside.
My parents owned a house a few miles away in Big Estate. My dad had inherited it from his own father who was a sharecropper.
corn and vegetables. I still own that property but it's no longer a farm and I go back once in a while to visit my cousins who still live there.
When I'm there I'll play in clubs or festivals and the first time I went back after being away for quite a while the Charleston papers called it my homecoming.
My father, Abraham Mackey, was a caretaker for a fishing club on the Combahee River. My mother Mary worked as a cleaning lady at the club and she'd cook for its members. Then she was sick for many years and passed away when I was 17. My father was a good fisherman and I inherited his passion and know-how.
He was also a Baptist preacher who would travel from church to church. My parents sang at home, in the fields and in church. Gospel music was a part of our lives and obviously had a big influence on me.
Wes' godmother and mother Mary
at the family home in South Carolina
(Photo approx 1950
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We had a few cows, some hogs, chickens and a mule we called Julia. We grew cotton, tremendous influence on me. We were so busy with work we had very little free time, but on weekends, we'd get together with friends and relatives and we'd cook and eat outside. We had a gramophone and we played mostly blues,gospel and country records.
For a long time I couldn't bring myself to really talk about my life because there were some very dark periods but this article has given me the opportunity to look back and realize in some ways it has come full circle. Some very disturbing things happened during my childhood, and when I left South Carolina I took a lot of bad memories in my luggage. It had a profound influence on my whole life, and that's something I just started to understand only recently.
One night, I must have been five, I woke up suddenly and my mattress was burning. The flames were spreading fast and I tried to scream “Fire” but it was as if the sounds stayed stuck in the back of my throat so I had to run to wake everyone up. Luckily no one was seriously hurt but after the fire I started to stutter badly. Since I couldn't express myself I became a very solitary child.
When I was a boy of 10 or 11, I used to walk around pretending to play the guitar. My older brother Harry had tried to teach me to play his and after he gave up himself, he gave me his. It was a Stella and it only had three strings. Because of my stuttering I couldn't imagine that I'd ever be able to sing. But we used to listen to the Grand Ole Opry on the radio and I realized that Mel Tillis, who was also a stutterer could sing, so I tried it and I didn't stutter either when I sang. This really gave me hope. Later my friends used to call me “Static”, because it sounded like static electricity when I spoke, like “Sststststs....sstop”. They used to tell me “Wes, if you can't say it, sing it.”
FRAT HOUSES & THE CHITLIN' CIRCUIT
Since it was impossible for young people to find work in the small towns of South Carolina at 17
I decided to move to Augusta, Georgia. It's was then that I started to take music very seriously. After moving there I attended a concert by a guitarist named Billy Jackson. He was an excellent musician who helped me and influenced me a great deal. I also met a bunch of older musicians who took me under their wings and gave me my musical initiation. They'd play in big bands and used to meet at a place called the Club Desoda. They would laugh and share old stories about life on the road. After few drinks the jam session would start. I remember these old guys used to carry their instruments everywhere, no matter where they went. If an opportunity to play came up, they were ready.
I started my “professional” career at 17 at a juke joint there. I remember my first payday… 50 cents and a chicken sandwich.
During my youth I had a number of odd jobs. First I was a reserve in the US Army. Then I worked in a cookie factory (the Murray Biscuit Company in Augusta). After leaving Augusta, I didn't have a fixed address for several years. I was always on the road, doing the chitlin' circuit and working with any band that would have me. I wound up in Boston, playing in clubs and strip joints. For many years I was the sideman.
In the early 60's many of the touring artists would hire local bands to accompany them and I was lucky enough to be in the right place, at the right time. In the 60's in the South there was a fraternity circuit, which was sort of a part of the chitlin' circuit. The fraternities regularly had shows with black artists who would come through town, performing for a young, white audience
At the time I played with a band called the Rock and Roll Kings. We played a lot at The University of Georgia in Athens.
I accompanied so many bands, I couldn't name them all. That was over 40 years ago! It's hard to imagine it was so long ago... I don't want to overstate the importance of our association but I have to say that my experiences playing with John Lee Hooker and Muddy Waters really influenced, inspired and encouraged me. I played with Muddy in Augusta, at the Paramount Country Club. Seeing how the audience reacted to his music, I remember wishing that at some point in my career, I would also be able to move people that way. There was something so intense about the way his voice and guitar came together. It was raw, rough and yet basic. It reminded me of a preacher's sermon, honest with deep meaning.
I played with John Lee Hooker at a university. I remember asking him how he wrote such moving lyrics. He laughed and said “When you're hungry and you gotta eat, that gives you a lot of ideas!” It strange nowadays, a lot of folks tell me I remind them of John Lee but that was never deliberate. As I became older, I needed glasses and I started wearing the outfits and hats of a traditional bluesman. Recently someone asked me if I'd be interested in playing the part of John Lee Hooker in a theater production. I'm not sure whether I'll accept. I've had to work so hard to find my own identity. But who knows maybe after reading the script, I might say yes.
Sometimes, when I look back at this whole period it's like looking through a kind of thick fog, but there are a few moments I'll never forget. Like the time we accompanied Rufus Thomas, whose big hit at the time was Walking The Dog. After the gig, we were sitting together, drinking and chatting. We were young and we loved to party. We asked him if he had some advice for aspiring musicians. He said “You're young and really talented, but you spend way too much time drinking and partying. You should focus on your music.” At the time, I didn't understand the importance of that advice...
There were also groups like The Platters and The Drifters. They had similar profiles and I really admired their fashion sense and their professionalism. We didn't spend a lot of time with those musicians. They would show up, put on their show and leave right away for the next venue. I sure would have liked to have spent more time with them, `cause all the girls used to follow them around!
I also remember accompanying Martha Reeves and the Vandellas. They were late and rushed in at the last minute. I was so impressed by their clothes, the way they moved and their choreography. Those girls were gorgeous! I couldn't believe my eyes. I was so lucky to be there! I can't remember their whole show, but I'll never forget how it started and how they sang Heat Wave. Like all the groups, they did their show and hit the road as soon as they were done. That time, I was really disappointed...
I have to admit that of all the artists I accompanied, Jimmy Reed had the greatest impact on me. Actually, I recorded a few of his tunes on my CD's. When we played Baby, What You Want Me To Do and You Don't Have To Go, it triggered something in me. It reminded me of my three-string guitar. It only had the E, the B and the D strings. Those rhythms are the only thing you can get from a three-string guitar. It was that, but also his gift for storytelling that impressed me. It's as if he had really lived the life he sang about.
SECOND CHANCE
My first gigs in Canada took place while I was with the
Earl Lett International Soul Set. I immediately took a liking to Canada, because blues and jazz musicians were well received there. I played all over the country. I even had to play some country, some jazz and some rock music, and that has probably influenced my style today.
Before working with Earl Lett, I also played with The Untouchables and Eddie “Funky Fingers” Davis, a virtuoso on the Hammond organ.
Earl Lett International Soul Set 1964
Wes Mackey 2nd from the left
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During that era I used to party non-stop and I had started drinking. It didn't worry me too much but eventually the bottle caused me a lot of problems.
With Earl Lett, we traveled quite a bit It's with him that I came to Paris for the first time. It was in Halifax, Nova Scotia that I met my wife and that I settled down for the first time in my life. I formed my own band, Wes Mackey and the Brotherhood and I worked with some great artists like Dutchy Mason. I even had a spot on a national television show called Performance. Unfortunately, my marriage didn't last and after six years, I left it all behind. Then I had started drinking in earnest. My heart was broken, I felt guilty about my children, because I loved them all...and that became another reason to turn to the bottle. During this period, I wandered a lot from place to place.
I spent a while in Calgary, Alberta, playing all sorts of music, solo, duos, with bands, in rural bars and party rooms. I was in full survival mode and worried more about how much I was making than about my art. Eventually I ended up on the West coast of Canada, with nothing but my Fender Jaguar guitar and a beat-up van which doubled as my home. To stay warm I would light a gas lamp. I was very, very tired and drank way too much.
Then the darkest period of my life began. For several years, I completely gave up on music. I wound up at the “end of the world” in a small town in the Canadian North called Port Hardy. It's the Western-most town on the Pacific coast. The signs leading to it say “Mile 0”. You could find a lot of good paying jobs there being a lumberjack, a fisherman or a miner. I found a job working for the city, and among my many duties, I had to catch stray dogs and bring them to the pound. That job didn't last long since I knew all of the dogs in town and returned them to their owners. But I also learned how to operate bulldozers and other heavy machinery. I made a lot of friends and we used to drink and party hard. Time seemed to have stopped.
Finally I became fed up and moved to a nearby town called Nanaimo where I decided to return to music. I studied musical theory at Malaspina College, where I was probably the oldest student. My Fender Jaguar was older than most the students and professors. When I left the school there was a big article in the local paper that said: “Wes Mackey's dream is becoming a reality”.
I was really moved by that and I still go back there to play from time to time. In fact even though most of the venues I play now are pretty upscale I still love playing in gritty juke joints where the beer flows and people talk loud.
In took many years before I settled on the in Vancouver. Nobody wanted to hire me since I was a complete unknown. It's as if I was starting from scratch. Fortunately, I ran into Jack Lavin (the founder of the Powder Blues Band) who offered me my first gig in Vancouver.
I played in local venues and in order to keep getting work I had to play whatever people wanted to hear. It was a drag but that's what I had to do to survive and so I started drinking again. Even though I'd lost my musical identity, I kept on working.
Then I got a gig in Hong Kong opening the Shangri-La Hotel where I stayed for five months and after that I lived in Malaysia for a while. I also did the cruise ship circuit. and I would have trouble trying to remember all the countries we went through. You might think this was a happy period but in fact that's when I hit rock bottom. If you're trying to stay off the bottle, the last thing you should do is work on cruise ships...
I don't dwell any more on those hard times. But believe me, those were tough days. When I got back in touch with my children my whole life was turned around. I stopped drinking for good and even quit smoking. I was fed up with playing music that meant nothing to me so I decided to get back to my roots and start playing the blues again. That's why my album, “Second Chance”, means so much to me. I feel at peace right now.
I settled in Vancouver because it's a beautiful city but also because over the years, I managed to bring the blues to a number of places where you might not expect to find it like resorts and luxury hotels.
One of the happiest day of my life was when I got a call from Gary Erwin (aka Shrimp City Slim) asking me to take part in the Lowcountry Blues Bash in Charleston, South Carolina. He saw my name on the internet and remembered seeing me perform in Kuala Lumpur! When he found out I was from near Charleston, he naturally invited me to perform at the festival. It really was a homecoming. All the media was there, newspapers, radio, TV. and most importantly I saw my family for the first time in many years...
Music saved me! When everything was going wrong, music freed me and gave me hope. On my CD, “Second Chance”, I play a song by Carl Weathersby called Sweet, Sweet Music, which sums up that feeling for me: “Sweet, sweet music sounds so good to me...it makes me smile through all my misery...I'm so glad I found music, I'm so glad I found something to love.”Last year I had the opportunity to meet Carl in Paris and I told him everything that song meant to me.
FULL MOON IN LAMANON
I got a call in the middle of the night
They said Wes take the next flight
We need you to save the day
Grabbed my guitar and I was on my way
When I arrived what did I see
A friendly town with olive trees
About ten years ago I started performing solo and I was looking for a bigger sound. That's when I remembered an old TV show where I saw Jesse Fuller playing his footdella (an invention of his which allowed him to play bass lines with his feet). I started looking for a modern version of the instrument and I found a set of a Roland PK5 bass pedals. Everyone told me it was crazy to try to learn that thing, that it would never work, but I was determined and now it's become my thing, a kind of trademark...
I've recorded three albums, but only two have been released. First there was “Blues Man” (1994), then “Second Chance” (2005) and “Mr. Blues” (2006). Like I said, I was a sideman for many years and I only recently began recording. As an independent artist, it's not easy to release an album and each time I do I learn something new.
My new album is due for release soon. It'll be called “Beyond Words”, because that reminds me of how I used music to express what I couldn't say properly. Music really freed me, in so many ways. The CD will come out just before my next European tour in November 2009, and will include several of my own compositions. I'm really happy about that, because I've found my own path and I feel a lot more confident about my writing.
One of my new tunes, Full Moon in Lamanon, will also be on this album. It tells the story of my adventures in Lamanon, a small village in the South of France. A wonderful place - and a very funny story! Listen: Last year I got a call in the middle of the night. At the last minute George Lemaire was asking me to replace Sam Taylor, who had fallen sick just before the festival in Lamanon (Festival des Alpilles, which takes place in July in the Bouches-du-Rhône area). Everything was happening so fast...of course, I said yes. What an incredible experience! At the airport, Vincent Bertomeu, the organizer of the festival, was waiting for me. On the way to Lamanon, our car broke down and we had to push it into town! But everyone was very friendly and the mayor of Lamanon promised me that he would personally greet me in a huge limo for my next visit. Someone suggested I write a song about everything that happened to me in the South of France. So that's what I did. The result is Full Moon In Lamanon:
Vincent Bertomeu is going to put out a CD with this track which is unreleased, and some cuts from my previous discs. The mayor of Lamanon has invited me to attend a ceremony in July to launch the CD. He also asked me to be the festival's "Godfather", which is quite an honor. The limo, I'm sure, will be waiting at the airport.1!
Sometimes, people tell me I'm too happy to be a blues musician. I hope that now they'll understand where I'm coming from. Everything's fine now...it's like my life had just begun.
It was indeed the case! A video of the song was produced.
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