• Son House
  • Son House's recorded works fall into four categories:
  • Son House moved to Detroit in 1976, and died there in 1988.
  • Selected Son House Discography (with links to Amazon):

The Original Delta Blues (Mojo Working': Blues For The Next Generation)

$6.99

In the spring of 1973, Son House and Robert Pete Williams along with Dick Waterman came to the campus of SUNY Brockport outside of Rochester, NY, to play a Sunday concert. Student and blues aficionado, David Giles, had convinced the student government concert committee to bring these blues legends in. Prior to the concert David took four of us to Son House’s apartment in Rochester, where he warmly welcomed us and in answer to our questions told stories of Charley Patton, Willie Brown and Robert Johnson as his wife sat by his side. Small in frame, he was strong and shaped by the elements of his life. He remembered being especially close with Brown and enjoyed played with him noting he was very good. And while Son liked Johnson, he considered him to be something of an imitator, a young upstart, technically very good but copying others. During our stay, Son was relaxed and smiled and was rather excited that we wanted to hear him play at our college. He told us that he didn’t have a guitar, but his wife told him that one would be there. Evidently, he was in the habit of taking his guitars out to bars and play for drinks, often hocking his guitar later on. On Sunday Robert Pete opened up the concert. We were moved by his music, cutting through any familiarity we had from the records. When Son took the stage with a steel guitar, his voice was so strong they took the microphone away. Even then, his voice absolutely rang out through the college union ballroom. He played each song with a howling passion, and sliding in open tuning was the answer to his own calling. He had a sustained energy that seemed to be tireless. After the show we sat backstage next to Son and Robert Pete taking turns on harp and guitar playfully jamming with Robert Pete as Son listened and talked with us. A few months later in a club just outside Rochester, Luther Johnson with a ten gallon hat was singing You Gotta Help Me when a small entourage came in including Son, wearing a studded ten gallon hat. Bringing the band down to a quiet vamp, Johnson said he needed help singing the last verse and beckoned Son to the stage where he bellowed the last lines like a man in passionate plea for help.

In the spring of 1973, Son House and Robert Pete Williams along with Dick Waterman came to the campus of SUNY Brockport outside of Rochester, NY, to play a Sunday concert. Student and blues aficionado, David Giles, had convinced the student government concert committee to bring these blues legends in. Prior to the concert David took four of us to Son House’s apartment in Rochester, where he warmly welcomed us and in answer to our questions told stories of Charley Patton, Willie Brown and Robert Johnson as his wife sat by his side. Small in frame, he was strong and shaped by the elements of his life. He remembered being especially close with Brown and enjoyed played with him noting he was very good. And while Son liked Johnson, he considered him to be something of an imitator, a young upstart, technically very good but copying others. During our stay, Son was relaxed and smiled and was rather excited that we wanted to hear him play at our college. He told us that he didn’t have a guitar, but his wife told him that one would be there. Evidently, he was in the habit of taking his guitars out to bars and play for drinks, often hocking his guitar later on. On Sunday Robert Pete opened up the concert. We were moved by his music, cutting through any familiarity we had from the records. When Son took the stage with a steel guitar, his voice was so strong they took the microphone away. Even then, his voice absolutely rang out through the college union ballroom. He played each song with a howling passion, and sliding in open tuning was the answer to his own calling. He had a sustained energy that seemed to be tireless. After the show we sat backstage next to Son and Robert Pete taking turns on harp and guitar playfully jamming with Robert Pete as Son listened and talked with us. A few months later in a club just outside Rochester, Luther Johnson with a ten gallon hat was singing You Gotta Help Me when a small entourage came in including Son, wearing a studded ten gallon hat. Bringing the band down to a quiet vamp, Johnson said he needed help singing the last verse and beckoned Son to the stage where he bellowed the last lines like a man in passionate plea for help.

Reviews

- New Pony Blues (Son House, voc; Stefan Grossman, g) #

Asked whether Johnson or House was the better player, Muddy responded, “I think they both about equal.” In a Living Blues interview, Muddy Waters elaborated further, telling Jim O’Neal: “I consider myself to be what you might call a mixture of all three – I had part of my own, part of Son House, and a little part of Robert Johnson. Really, though, it was Son House who influenced me to play. I was really behind Son House all the way.”