RUFUS THOMAS JR. - Rufus Thomas was always quick to make sure that you knew he was a city man first and foremost. In one of his earliest in-depth
interviews he told Peter Guralnick, "I was born in Mississippi just below Collierville, about five miles from the Tennessee line in a little place called Cayce: its not on anybody's map. That was March 26 1917, (though his social security records say March
27), but I grew up in Memphis. I been here since I was a year old. I don't know anything about country life, to tell you the truth''.
Rufus Jr. was the youngest child
of Rufus and Rachel Thomas, coming up behind his sisters Elizabeth, Willie, Eva, and Dorothy and his brother Morris. He did admit that he mould sometimes go with his mother to visit relatives in the country and that he even picket a little cotton there as
''But that was not a life I wanted to know'', he told forcely some seventy years later. "No, I was always a city boy, there was always something going, on
there for me to take an interest in.
My father worked in several different production plants around Memphis and my mother worked in domestic, but they both had other
interests. My father was musical, where I got that side from, and my mother was a church woman''. He told Peter Guralnick his mother had, "what we call mother wit, that deep seated intelligence that you don't get out of books. That was how I came up''.
Taking his parents' music and wit as inspiration, Rufus soon emerged as someone to remember from the crowd. His father played harmonica and did a little country dancing, and it was the latter
that appealed to Rufus. He made his performing debut on stage at the Grand Theater on Beale Street in an elementary school play - hopping on stage like a frog. By the age of ten, he was struck by the tap-dancing ability of a schoolmate, Edward Martin, and
he soon started copying and then surpassing his friend. He told researcher Rob Bowman: "I don't know where the drive came from. All I know is that I wanted to be a tap dancer. So I continued to work, at it, mixing what I had seen with some steps of my own.
During those days there was no such thing as dancing schools for blacks''.
In the ninth grade, Rufus moved to Booker T. Washington High School, and he told about his
meeting with his mentor, Nat D. Williams: "He was a professor, history teacher, at High School there, and I was involved with him in one thing or another since the first of the 1930s. After he was my teacher in school, he was my teacher on the stage and later
on he was my teacher in radio. He was the first black disc jockey in the mid-South and the emcee at the amateur shows on Beale Street in the Palace Theater. Nat Williams was an unusual man, and a good mentor for the young Rufus. Williams had been to University
in Nashville at Tennessee A&I and had worked in New York before he returned to Memphis to teach at Booker T. Washington. There he became involved with Maurice Hulbert in producing a high school show known as the BTW Ballet - it had started out in the 1920s
as a highbrow performance put on to raise money for the newly-formed black high school, and did literally put on ballet performances.
Within a few years the Ballet had
broadened its range, with song and tap dance and comedy, and Williams decided he could accommodate Rufus's homegrown dancing talent. Rufus told John Floyd that this ''was when things really began happening for me. I had learned the craft, and the first rehearsal
at school Nat D. said to me, What's your name, you want to be in the Ballet?' and I said 'yeah'. He said let me see your smile, so I had a funny little grin on my face. and he said, 'you got it. I was put into the musical vaudeville shows, which was a minstrel
show''. Rufus later reflected with disc jockey and writer, Louis Cantor, on the difference in his black version of the vaudeville minstrel shows, where he appeared complete with burnt cork on the face and painted lips. ''With folks would put on white put on
red lips to protest. or at least I like to think it was to protest'', he rationalized.
Nevertheless Rufus remained proud of the Ballets. which by his day had moved from
the school premises into the Palace Theater and then to the Ellis Auditorium downtown. He joked ''the old Ballet was sophisticated and pretty. We had no sophistication and we were ugly but we had some kinda show''.
Rufus was soon voted the most talented youngster in his school. He told John Floyd: ''I used to wear the big pants and the big shoes, and the big tie that would hang almost to the floor. I was hot stuff I was
so sharp I could stick up in concrete''. On account of being such a 'character' Nat Williams chose Rufus to help him with comedy routines. ''He chose me out of a bunch of kids to work with him. Nat was the straight man and I was the comic''.
In 1934, Rufus's entertainment career was interrupted when he went to Nashville to attend college at Tennessee State, probably at the urging of Nat Williams. It didn't work out because Rufus
was soon homesick. He told: ''I didn't stay there because from the start I was troubled. I'd never been that far away from Memphis, and I went back home in 1935. Then I started working all around the city as a tap dancer and I would do some scat singing and
comic songs like Louis Armstrong or Fats Waller. I would do everything there was to do really, whatever came under the name of entertainment''.
It was in 1935 that Rufus
first appeared in the Amateur Night shows at the Palace Theater on Beale Street with Nat Williams, developing the comedy routines they had started as part of the school Ballets. Rufus also worked there with Johnny Dowdie as a dance team that had also started
in the Ballets. "We were dancing up and down steps, doing wings and all that fancy stuff, but it was mostly flash'', Rufus told Louis Cantor.
The following year Rufus
and Johnny joined a touring show known as the Rabbit Foot Minstrels, traveling from May to October all through Mississippi, Arkansas, and parts of Louisiana. The Rabbit Foot Company was a long running minstrel and variety troupe that toured as a tent show
between the 1900s and the 1940s. It was originally owned and managed by Pat Chappelle, a black performer, when the company had a brass band and traveled in its own private railroad car. The company was purchased by white carnival owner, F.S. Wolcott, (later
celebrated in a song by the Band) who was in control when Rufus and Johnny were with the company. Rufus remembered: "The show would open with the band. Then there was the chorus line, and the comic would come right behind that. Then maybe a singer the chorus
line, the tap dancers and the comic''.
For a time in 1937, Rufus was back in Nashville, working with Johnny Dowdie at Kyles night club. Apart from the dance duo, Rufus
also earned money by waiting tables for white diners. ''I was what you'd call a singing waiter", he said, also describing both the potential and the problems in this role: "During that time the white fellow was quite boastful, if he was out with his woman...
but he'd pay well, At the end of the night. I had the money, and that what I was working for so you ask yourself who's the fool?".
Then in 1938 Rufus was lured back to
the tent shows, this time with a company called Royal American Shows that advertised itself as the ''Most Beautiful Show On Earth''. It was basically a type of carnival, known as a Midway, owned by Carl Sedlmayr and the Velare Brothers, touring State fairs
and festivals across Minnesota, Oklahoma. Kansas, Arkansas, Mississippi, Louisiana and western Canada. It seems that Rufus just worked in the Southern states closest to home. He confirmed to Peter Guralnick, "It was an all-white show, but Leon Claxton had
the black part and they called it 'Harlem In Havana. It was a tent show under a big tent, that was the time when they had an aisle right down the centre and blacks sat on one side, whites on the other'. At twelve o clock wed have a parade you understand, to
bring the people to let the people know. It was a different town every day and at night you stayed in people's homes because there were no hotels at all for blacks at that time. Then in the morning you catch the bus and you're off to another town''. He added:
''I wouldn't have traded the world for that foundation. Even with all the racism, all the hold backs, all those things, it was still quite likeable, people were having fun. We didn't make a lot of money but we had a damn good time''.
Back in Memphis by 1940, Rufus developed a different vaudeville comedy and dance show with another partner, Robert Counts, who was known as Bones'. Rufus and Bones played at the Cotton Club
in West Memphis, the Brown Derby club, and particularly the Elks Club at 401 Beale. Rufus was still dancing but he was increasingly developing as a comedian, emcee and even a singer. He said, ''It was hard. I was working on stage before there were microphones;
you really had to have some kind of a voice''.
He told John Floyd that he took up singing on the back of song writing. ''I was working in a comedy team at the Elks Club
on Beale. There was a blues singer there by the name of Georgia Dickerson. and I used to write blues for her every week, and she'd sing them. But she left town and that left space in the show, so I thought I'm going to try to take up that space. That's all
there was to it. I sang a song by Lonnie Johnson called ''Jelly Roll Baker''. Then I learned other songs and I did a few love songs like ''For Sentimental Reasons'' and I even did ''Stardust''. But my voice then was beginning to turn and I couldn't sing anything
sweet with all that gravel in it''.
It was apparently at the Harlem Theater on Florida Street that Rufus first sang something sweet to a girl named Cornelius Lorene Wilson,
whom he married in November 1940. The Reverend C. L. Franklin, father of Aretha Franklin, conducted the ceremony and it marked the start of a more stable phase of life for Rufus, and the end of his vaudeville days. He took a job at the American Finishing Company,
a textiles firm, and he maintained a day job there alongside all his entertainment roles until 1963. He operated the boiler plant among other things, and on a slow day would use the rhythms the boiler pipes sometimes generated to help develop ideas for songs.
The new Thomas family lived in the Foote Homes Housing Project in Memphis, where Rufus soon had fatherly duties to add to his life. His son Marvell was born in 1942, his daughter Carla in
1943 and youngest daughter Vaneese in 1952.
Nevertheless, Rufus continued to ply his trade as an entertainer, working not only at the Harlem Theater but at the, Hyde
Park Theater in north Memphis near Chelsea Avenue, the Savo Theater on North Thomas, and the Handy Theater on Park Avenue.
On Wednesday nights, Rufus was the emcee at
the Palace Theater on Beale Street. This was amateur night, where he had graduated from being a dancer to becoming also a comic foil for the emcee, Nat Williams, to now add to his roles that of the emcee himself. He kept the comedy, and was always sharply
dressed, continuing the theme he had started in school, and developing catchphrases like ''Ain't I'm clean?" or "Oh I feel so unnecessary".
He described to Peter Guralnick
the shape of the show and the scale of the talent. "First they had the movies and then the amateur, which was the bottom hour, and then it was back to the movies. I reached back and got a friend of mine, his name was Robert Counts, they called him Bones, and
we were together for eleven consecutive years at the Palace Theater every Wednesday night. We were making five dollars a night and you had the Al Jackson band and they were only making 25 dollars and they had a big band too. The show was only a nickel then,
but the place was packed''.
He told Beale Street historians Margaret McKee and Fred Chisenhall: ''At that time we had contestants come up to perform, and then after everybody
performed they'd all come back on stage and the audience would applaud for first prize. They used to have $5, $3, and $2 but they cut that out and later everybody who came up on stage would get a dollar. B. B. King used to come with holes in his shoes, his
guitar all patched up, just to get that dollar''. Guitarist Calvin Newborn has recalled being presented with five dollars by Rufus on Palace amateur night for playing a piano duet with his brother, Phineas on ''Hey Bop A Re Bop''.
In 1950, Rufus left the Palace because he couldn't get the money he felt he was entitled to for his emcee role and comedy dance routines. Four decades later it still pained him to explain to Peter Guralnick:
"I wanted more, but I couldn't get Bones to go ask for it with me. So the man got with Bones and asked him if he would work with someone else, and I got fired''.
Rufus was soon running a Saturday midnight amateur show at the Handy Theater. He was by now a well-known name in black Memphis, and he was fast becoming associated with the good time Saturday nights for which Beale Street was famous. He said, "Beale Street
was the black man's haven. They'd come into town and forget all their worries and woes''.
Rufus's daughter, Carla Thomas, had clear memories of those days. She told 'Soul
And Jazz Record' in 1974: "Growing up in Memphis in the early 1950s held much excitement for me because of my musical environment. Even though I was a young girl at the time, no one could outdo me when I did the Hambone. Bo Diddley came to Memphis often and
he laughed about it. My father had everyone in the Foote Homes project doing that routine. My father has been a hard worker all his life. Many times he worked three and four jobs to support our family, traveling with different musicians to parts of Arkansas
and Mississippi or wherever they could get a job, along with working in a textile mill and later as a disc jockey. My brother and myself would be anxiously waiting for him to come home to give us accounts of his travels. He told us how country folks loved
the blues, drank the booze, and we learned a lot about life from daddy''.
Carla had a clear picture of Rufus's work closer to home, too: "I was at the Palace Theater
often because my mother always took my brother and me to see daddy who was usually the emcee. Daddy danced so well that he eventually got barred from competition: that's how he got to be emcee. I laughed until I cried at the jokes he shared with his team partner
Bones, of Rufus and Bones. It seemed to me then that to be associated with Beale Street was to be associated with creativity, strength and pride. That's why many blacks, especially on the weekends, would congregate up and down Beale Street to feel the pulse
of life it had to offer''.
It's easy to overplay the extent to which Beale was buzzing. In August 1950, ''Ebony'' magazine ran a feature about 'The New Beale Street''',
emphasizing the rise of black owned business and the real or hoped for gentrification of the street. ''Beale is but a ghost of the boisterious, blustering thorefare of yesterday, ''Ebony'', reported. ''It's sweet men and easy riders are gone; its gambling
dens and nite spots are shut down. A new Beale Street is arising as a symbol of the new, enterprising, forward looking Southern Negro of today, looking forward to the day when Negro business will dominate the street''. It reported, ''by midnite these days
the street is virtually deserted in contrast to the old days when the nite spots operated all night''.
In December, on the same theme, 'Billboard' reported a speech at
Booker T. Washington High School by W. C. Handy, 77-year-old bandleader and composer of the ''Beale Street Blues'' and ''Memphis Blues''. Handy thought, "In the days when I was here, everything in the Negro community centers around three or four blocks on
Beale. There were theaters, drug stores and saloons. Everybody put on his best to be seen on Beale: it was a promenade. Now there are many Negro communities in the city and Beale has lost its charms. (It has) the character of an avenue of commerce, filled
pawnshops, cheap cafes and second-hand stores where the tourist can find no lure''. Handy felt the same thing had happened in New York on Lenox Avenue and in Harlem, Handy, who had him created a successful business in the North, felt that "a certain race pride
has gone by the boards. To many Negroes are trying to live white, and it's not good''. There may have been a generations element in this because, to the Thomas family, the,scene was still buzzing, and Rufus was as integral part of it.
For people like Rufus Thomas, and Nat Williams, the pride was still very much there, too, and I started to take other forms as well, not least through the efforts of radio WDIA, the first station
to cater to black America in the South.
WDIA opened in June 1947 as the sixth station in town, and one of the least important. At first, it purveyed classical, popular
and hillbilly music, alongside the news. Bert Ferguson, who co-owned the station with John Pepper, knew that Nat Williams was a communicator, someone who could inform as well as entertain. With low ratings, WDIA figured that through Nat they could try to gain
listeners among the black community, which made up nearly half the local population. Williams started in October 1948 with a show called 'Tan Town Jamboree' and he quickly got a very positive response. Within a few years, WDIA moved to an all-black format
and was being promoted as the 'Mother Station Of The Negro'. Besides Williams, WDIA recruited other local personalities from the schools and theaters of Memphis, including Gatemouth Moore, Maurice Hulbert, Theo Wade, Willa Monroe, Martha Jean ''The Queen''
Steinberg, Robert Thomas, Ford Nelson, A. C. 'Moohah' Williams - and, in September 1950, Rufus Thomas.
Rufus started at WDIA announcing two hour-long record shows, 'House
Of Happiness' and 'Special Delivery'. At first, it seems that he tried to sound upmarket, smooth and articulate, like the announcers he heard on WREC broadcasting from posh venues like the Peabody Hotel. In fact, his own rasp of a voice was much more suited
to selling records and sponsored goods to his home-town audience, and station manager David James Mattis counseled him about retaining the sort of hip rapport that he had with theater and night club crowds. "Once I became just Rufus, man, I started getting
sharp and everything. My delivery stepped up, and there I was, a personality", he told a radio colleague, Louis Cantor. So much so that Mattis later described Rufus as ''the best black entertainer I ever saw in my life''.
In 1951, Rufus inherited the 'Sepia Swing Club' from B. B. King when King went on the road on the back of his burgeoning recording career. 'Sepia Swing Club' was on at 3pm. Rufus had already worked a 6.30 to
2.30 shift American Textile and he used to catch the streetcar to the radio station, often leaping into his chair at or just beyond the opening of the show, ready to take off "like a late freight" as he put it. After a while he would get a ride in his friend's
car and then from 1954 he traveled in his own automobile. His opening patter remained the same though: "Come in the club, we're ready and right/ Got records and jive, no fuss no fight/ This is Rufus Thomas of Sepia Swing/ Gonna try to make you laugh and sing''.
In June 1954, WDIA increased its signal power significantly to 50,000 watts, covering not just the Memphis area but the entire South. This was a big success with sponsors, and it cemented
the station's place in the local black community. According to Rufus, ''I don't care what - if it was said on WDIA, that was it. They would argue you down. They'd say, I heard it on WDIA, and that was it''. By this time, Rufus had another Saturday morning
show, 'Boogie For Breakfast', and he was on with the 'Hoot 'N' Holler' show every night from 9.30 to 11pm starting the party with "I'm young and loose and full of juice/ We're all feeling gay though we ain't got a dollar/ So let's all get together and hoot
'n' holler''. Dora Todd, a teacher at Washington High said: "Most folks in the 1950s may not have been able to tell you who the mayor or governor was, but they sure knew the names of Nat Williams and Rufus Thomas''. One of the additional reasons folks knew
Rufus in the 1950s was that he had just broadened his entertainment portfolio and emerged as a major name in the world of rhythm and blues recordings.
By the end of the
1940s, Rufus Thomas had spent several years singing in Memphis night spots with a number of good local bands; those of Bill Harvey, Al Jackson, Bill Fort and Tuff Green. He hadn't seen this as his main forte but it was a developing part of his gamplan as an
entertainer. He said, "My models were Fats Waller and Louis Armstrong, and a fellow named Gatemouth Moore, Dwight Moore out of Memphis. They were all good entertainers, very very versatile''.
Gatemouth Moore had recently been a successful recording artist before returning to Memphis to work over WDIA, and he was one of the reasons why Rufus started to think about making records himself. He recalled: "I was working in a club as
a singer, and it was something I wanted to do. It was a chance. I just wanted to be on record. I never thought of getting rich. I just wanted to be known, be a recording artist''. The opportunity presented itself one day around Christmas, 1949, in the form
of a visit from
Jesse and Louise Erickson ran Louise's Record Shop at 3313 Oakland Avenue in
south Dallas. Erickson was a regional record distributor who started issuing records on his Talent and Star Talent label to showcase local artists. He issued many hillbilly recordings, made in his local area, before launching out with a short-lived blues series
in 1950, comprising of recordings largely made on location.
Country artist Boots Bourquin said: "Jesse and Louise did a lot of advertising on the radio, and he wholesaled
and retailed records. That was a pretty big thing because all them stars had records in there and they would come by and meet him. It was a gathering place for musicians, all those guys that was trying to get a start in country music. He was a real nice guy,
a real big guy, six foot four and weighed 250''.
Rufus was singing at the Club Tropicana, also known as Johnny Curry's Club, on Thomas Street on the north side of Memphis
when Jesse Erickson walked through the door tarrying a bulky recording machine and a microphone. According to Rufus, he just introduced himself and asked if he could set up and record the band for his label. Rufus had never heard of the Talent label, but he
did want to be on records, so he agreed. It is likely that Erickson had made some prior arrangement to be there, but if so the details remain undiscovered. Rufus recalled a little of the session: "They'd put this big heavy needle down, and when you'd be singing
you could see the needle cutting into that acetate, just digging those grooves right around there."
The label of Rufus's record stated at the top that it was in the 'Folk
Series,' but at the side indicated in smaller print that it was in fact part of the 'Blues And Rhythm Series'. The disc was listed in 'Billboard' among the 'New Rhythm & Blues Releases' for the week of 25 February 1950, and ''I'm So Worried'' was also
reviewed, although the opinion was mixed, and indeed a little Harsh on the band: "Thomas shows first class style on a slow blues, but the combo work is amateurish behind him''.
Rufus was disappointed at the lack of a second release on Star Talent, then his sorrow should d have been short-lived. Within six months, he was back on record again. However, this time he was disguised on the record label as 'Mr. Swing' and he may not even
have known about his release on Nashville's Bullet label. If he did know at the time, he seemed to have forgotten about it through most of his career and only acknowledged it nearly fifty years after the event. When we played him the disc in 1999 he appeared,
saying, ''Hey that is me. I had forgotten all about those songs, but you know, that really is me''. He seemed to have no recollection of the matter being raised with him three years earlier by Dave Clarke of ''Blues And Rhythm'' magazine – but he undergone
a bypass operation in-between times.
The release of ''Beer Bottle Boogie'' and ''Gonna Bring My Baby Back'' on Bullet 327 came about in similar 'on location' circumstances
to those surrounding the Star Talent episode. The songs were apparently recorded sometime around 9 to 11 June 1950 when the Lionel Hampton orchestra was playing at the Handy Theater in Memphis, and when Rufus Thomas sang with a smaller band drawn from Hampton's
musicians. The band was credited to Hampton's saxophonist and songwriter, Bobby Plafer, and the deal was apparently set up between Overton Gong, then head of Bullet Records, Robert Henry, the manager of the Handy Theater, and Bert Ferguson of WDIA who had"the
previous year been instrumental in sending B. B. King's first recordings to Bullet.
''Beer Bottle Boogie has, a strong boogie piano opening from Milt Buckner, whose trademark
grunting can be clearly heard on these recordings. Rufus tells how he got higher than a kite, then all hipped-up, then burned at poker - the recipe for getting the beer bottle boogie way down deep inside. Then the classy band really comes into its own with
a fabulous sax solo while the other players interject and swirl all around it. Rufus said: ''I do remember that ''Beer Bottle'' song, and that is a good band, a quality band on there. I, think so''. Incidentally, Marilyn Scott recorded a ''Beer Bottle Boogie''
on Regent in September 1950; it appears to be a different song altogether, but Mr. Swing may have inspired the title. ''Gonna Bring My Baby Back'' is a swinging mid-pace item driven by the piano towards a smooth tenor solo that builds up while the band riffs
effectively. Rufus tells a familiar tale about his baby leaving but he's gonna find her, and he tells it with some vocal style. 'Billboard' listed the disc among the New Rhythm & Blues Releases of July 22, 1950, where Mr. Swing lined up alongside ''Mr.
Cadillac'' and his The R D Boogie, Louis Jordan's ''Blue Light Boogie'', Gatemouth Brown's ''Boogie Rambler'', and Ray Charles' ''The Ego Song'', among others.
it should have sat alongside was ''Phillips Sent Me'', Bullet 329 by Jerome Richardson, Lionel Hampton's young saxophone prodigy, fronting the same Bobby Plater band that had backed Rufus. The disc possibly included vocals by Hampton's vocalist Betty Carter
but this is uncertain because a copy of the record has not been located. What is clear is that the tune was inspired by Memphis disc jockey, Dewey Phillips, whose catchphrase was to tell radio listeners to 'say that Phillips sent ya" when entering a store.
A year later, in July 1951, 'Billboard' reported that "Dewey Phillips'' advice to his WHBQ listeners to tell merchants 'Phillips sent me' has become a by-word in Memphis and his show is being considered for coast to coast broadcast over the Mutual network.
Newest twist is that he's to be immortalized in song, with Joe Liggins and his Honeydrippers planning to record a ditty entitled ''Phillips Sent Me''. It is possible that there had been some copyright, wrangling over the song and a threatened legal restraint
that led to Bullet pulling the disc from sale in 1950. Either way, it is a fascinating, and frustrating, side issue to what was already a confused picture surrounding Rufus's second, cording venture.
By the time Rufus realized that his Bullet disc existed but was not going to be a big seller and that Bullet Records was making no noises about recording Mr. Swing again - he also started to realize that there was an emerging
recording opportunity right on his doorstep. In fact, Memphis radio announcer and producer Sam Phillips had first opened the doors of his Memphis Recording Service on Union Avenue pretty much at the same time Rufus was recording for Star Talent. By the early
part of 1951, Phillips had already sold rhythm and blues and blues recordings to out of town record companies like RPM and Chess and was gait hing something of a reputation on the back of recordings of B.B. King, Rosco Gordon and others. ''Rocket 88'' by Jackie
Brenston was top of the Rhythm And Blues Charts when Rufus started to think about going along to Union Avenue. He told Peter Guralnick: ''Everyone was just going up there, and I found out about it, so I went, too. You could come right off the street and go
When Rufus entered 706 Union Avenue, the first person he encountered was Marion Keisker, Sam first, and at that time only, assistant. She arranged for him
to visit when Sam would be there, and Phillips was pleased to have a go at recording one of the rising stars of Beale Street and Memphis radio. Marion recorded Rufus's address in her files as 440 Vance, and later changed this to 1376 Kerr when the Thomas family
moved. She set up setup a recording session for sometime in May or June 1951, and Sam Philips started to make a deal with Leonard Chess for the output of the session to be leased to Chess records in Chicago.
As far as is known, the first title Phillips recorded was ''Night Workin' Blues'', a song Rufus had been singing for some years, although it was credited to Marty Witzel. It opens with a swinging riff from the band and Herman
Green and Richard Sanders both feature throughout on tenor and baritone sax. Pianist Billy Love swoops around the tune and keeps a solid rhythm section going. The music is more rhythm than blues but Rufus forcefully gets across his tale of woe about coming
off the night shift to find he's getting no attention at home. ''I try to make her happy/But my life is misery'' and the solution seems to be to "let this all night working go''. We may never hoe biographical the song was, and the same goes for the next song
Rufus recorded, ''Why Did You Deegee''. It's about a man who didn't believe his gal would leave him and it's about as close to recognized blue structure as Rufus gets. A slower pace is set here by drummer Houston Stokes and is emphasized by prominent use of
cymbals, while Rufus really opens up his vocal chords and sells his story of heartbreak, punctured by sax riffs, jazzy guitar figures from an unidentified guitarist, and more prominent interventions from Billy Love.
''Night Workin' Blues'' and ''Why Did You Deegee'' were issued as Chess 1466 in the midsummer of 1951, and at the end of July it was noted in Sam Phillips' logbook that he paid Rufus an advance on sales of fifty
A third song had been made at the session and the master of ''Crazy About You Baby'' was sent to Chess at the same time as the masters for Chess 1466, Crazy
was a pounding protorocker of the ''Rocket 88'' style that had gained Sam Phillips a massive rhythm and blues hit not long before. It is Billy Love pounding piano this time, rather than Ike Turner, and Rufus reeling off the honking vocals rather than Jackie
Brenston. Saxophonists Green and Sanders do as good if not better a job than the Turner/Brenston band, and all the pieces were in place for a hit. Unfortunately, Rufus was a few months too late with this one despite it being a considerably good record - and
his song was about a girl rather than a car. Mistake.
Sales of ''Night Workin' Blues'' must have been sufficient to encourage Phillips and Chess to plan a second release,
and in October 1951 Rufus was back in Phillips' studio recording a song called ''No More Dogging Around''. It was the first of many he would record over the years with Dog in the title, though this time he was talking about being led a dance by his woman rather
than promoting dance steps. The same band as before sets up a stomping rhythm and Herman Green takes a flowing sax solo. Rufus follows the catchy riff, his voice rising and falling as he sets out how he intends to get out from under. It is evident that Rufus
knew exactly what he wanted his bands to do, and overall the sound on this disc is one that can,be heard for Sun, Meteor and Stax.
Marion Keisker logged that the master
of ''No More Dogging Around'' was mailed to Chess on October 5, and that Chess "already have ''Crazy About You'' and the ''Xmas Song". The latter, whatever it was, has not been found, and it was ''Crazy About'' that was issued along with ''No More Dogging
Around'' on Chess 1492. The record gathered some steady but not spectacular sales through the spring of 1952.
By early 1952, several of Sam Phillips' recording artists
were caught up in commercial and legal arguments between the companies who took recordings from him - principally Chess in Chicago and Modern/RPM in Hollywood. Companies not unreasonably wanted exclusivity on the bestselling singers. One of these was Rosco
Gordon who had registered hits with RPM but who would also appear shortly on Chess and then, for good measure, on the Duke label.
On 23 January 1952 Rosco Gordon made
a session for Chess at Phillips' studio that included an engaging bar room song called ''Decorate The Counter''. However, by February 15 wrangling between the various companies had seen Gordon's contract signed over to Modern/RPM Records and two days later
most of the recordings from the January session were passed to Modern. ''Decorate The Counter''was not one of them because Chess had expressed an interest in the song. Sam Phillips apparently held it back as the prototype for someone else to record. That someone
was Rufus Thomas, and so we had tuned an extended version of the earliest of Rosco's versions of the song.
Rosco Gordon made another version of the song - one that has
more often been issued and so is not included here - that contained a number of vocal asides and tricks and had a generally anarchic aura. It was that version Rufus faithfully reproduced when he went into the studio on April 21, 1952. There is little wonder
that the difference between the two men's versions of this good time Saturday night song was not wide since Rufus used Willie Wilkes, Richard Sanders and John Murray Daley on the session – the,.same band as Rosco. Rufus calls ''What you say Richard''
as Richard Sanders is about to take his solo, as had Rosco. Only Rosco himself is missing, replaced by Billy Love on piano. Rufus's vocals are slightly more prominent and assured than Rosco's even though it is not his own song. ''Decorate The Counter';'was
apparently written by or in the name of Robert Henry, who managed the Handy Theater and booked Rufus and Rosco there along with other local talent and all the big bands of the day. He was also the first manager of B. B. King, and one of the real enduring characters
of Beale Street, right up to his death in 1978. He ran a pool hall and store there for years and liked to tell people that if they wanted to get served, they'd better decorate the counter, put their money down.
According to Marion Keisker's session logs, Rufus recorded four other songs at the ''Decorate'' session. One of these was the intriguing ''Beale Street Bound'', a recording that has not apparently survived. Of the three we do
have, the song that was chosen for release along with ''Decorate The Counter'' was ''Juanita'', an impassioned ballad complete with mock crying and a style that found fevour in the early 1950s and was exemplified in hits like Tommy Brown's ''Weepin' And Cryin''
on Dot Records which was the number one rhythm and blues hit of December 1951. If anyone was going to be able to carry off this histrionic style, then Rufus Thomas - the entertainer - was probably the man. No doubt his performance of ''Juanita'' went down
a storm in live performance, but this is a very slow song and although Richard Sanders contributes a moving baritone sax solo, the performance drag a little on record. It was left to Chuck Willis -with a different song -to take ''Juanita'' into the top ten
and rhythm and blues history four years later.
The day after the session, the Phillips studio airmailed dubs of ''Decorate The Counter'' and ''Juanita'' to Chess Records,
and twelve days later masters were "sent to Shaw (probably meaning Billy Shaw's New York based Shaw Artists Corporation). Marion Keisker logged that copies were sent to influential disc jockeys on June 16, including Gene Nobles at WLAC in Nashville, and that
payments at musicians union scale were made to the session musicians directly by Chess. The record was released as Chess 1517 at the start of July.
Two final songs from
the session remained unissued at the time. The first was ''Married Woman'', which is presented here in two alternative takes. It is a thumping blues about Rufus sitting around trying to drink his blues away. His baby's leaving - ''she was a married woman"
- and how loving a married woman will do you no earthly good. The first version contains a storming sax solo by Willie Wilkes, and the second is similar except that Rufus adds some slurred speech at the start to emphasize the depth of his plight. The last
title to be recorded at the session was also a moral tale - of temperance, abstinence and fidelity - told to a mid-paced rhythm and blues stomp. This time the solo is taken by Richard Sanders on baritone sax, and you can just imagine Rufus the entertainer
delivering the lyrics of ''I'm Off That Stuff'' with a twinkle in his eye.
It would be eleven months before Rufus was back at Phillips' Memphis Recording Service studio,
and this time the output would be on a hometown record label. Billboard reported on March 14, 1953: "Sun Record Label launched In Memphis - a new indie rhythm earl blues label headed by Jim Bulleit and Sam Phillips. The Sun label plans to give even opportunity
to untried artists to prove their talents, whether they play a broomstick or the finest jazz sax in the world''. Phillips had in fact toyed with his Sun label throughout 1952 and he had tried and failed with the country blues and nightclub saxophone instrumentals.
Now he had a new partner in – Jim Bulleit, an experienced record man from Nashville who knew how to sell records - and a new style to sell in the form of a novelty rhythm and blues song about a ''Bear Cat''. Phillips figured that the song was just right
for the extrovert gravel voiced Rufus Thomas.
As a disc jockey on WDIA, Rufus would have been one of the first to be aware of the sales potential of a new record called
''Hound Dog'', issued by Peacock Records out of Texas and sung by Willie Mae 'Big Mama' Thornton. Big Mama was from Montgomery, Alabama but had been based in Houston for several years when she joined the local Peacock label in 1951. In the late summer of 1952
she was on tour on the West Coast with the Johnny Otis band when Otis arranged to record her along with several other singers and ship the masters back to Peacock. The session featured songs by a new, young songwriting team, Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller who
had been asked to write something for the fearsomely built Big Mama, whom Leiber later told.
Rolling Stone' looked like the biggest, baddest, saltyist chick you would
ever see. The writers came up with the classic line, "You ain't nothing but a hound dog'', for Thornton to snarl out as an admonishment to those would-be suitors who were more interested in home comforts than in her. She knows, ''you ain't no real cool cat''.
With its loping rhythm, cutting blues guitar solos, unusual story line and occasional yelps and howls, ''Hound Dog'' soon registered as a juke box favourite when it was issued in early March 1953. By the end of the month, it was on the Rhythm And Blues Charts
and it stayed at number one for seven weeks that spring.
It would have been in character for Rufus to have the idea parody the lyric on his radio show and to invent his
own fearsome big cat to rival Big Mama's dog, and indeed people have spoken about hearing him do that on the radio. But in fact it was someone else who had the idea and who wrote the song. Rufus just told: ''No, I didn't write that song. Someone else wrote
that''. He wouldn't say who it was but the discussion was in the context of his relationship with Phillips. The composition was registered under Sam Phillips' name and Sam did talk in years about working up songs with Rufus, though he never made much claim
to have written ''Bear Cat'' outright. Maybe he did, or his wife Becky who helped him with songs in the 1950s did, or perhaps they took the idea from someone else? Either way, Sam was keen that Sun should record the song immediately, and that to increase the
fun it would be made clear on the record label that this was the 'answer to ''Hound Dog'' and that the singer going head to head with the Big Mama was Rufus 'Hound Dog' Thomas Jr.
Cat'' was recorded on March 8, 1953. There were just three musicians, Joe Hill Louis playing a long, hot and cutting guitar solo, bassist Tuff Green slapping the bass to make the sound of two men, and drummer Houston Stokes propelling the small band along.
Together they made a powerful sound, but what really made the record was the overpowering vocal performance that, from opening spoken intro, was recorded so hot by Sam Phillips that it almost leapt from the grooves. actor within Rufus the entertainer came
to the fore as he sang, almost making the hound dog and bear cat come alive.
In complete contrast, Rufus also recorded a blues ballad, ''Walking In The Rain'', which
underlined how good a mood singer he could be. His song is carried along by more strikingly good guitar work from Joe Hill Louis, while drums and bass are relegated to the background along with so, rhythm that Rufus kept on piano while singing. As good as
''Walking In The Rain'' was in its way, it was the other side that Sam Phillips wanted to get on the market. It is registered in his logbooks that he paid the three musicians fifteen dollars each and sent the master discs to Shaw for manufacturing the very
same day they were recorded.
It is clear that Sun 181 was a serious rush-release. Within two weeks, 'Billboard was able to report: "The so-called answer record craze
is still going strong in the rhythm and blues field. This week a new diskery came out with an answer to Peacock's smash waxing of ''Hound Dog'' with thrush Willie Mae Thornton. ''Hound Dog'' was released only about three weeks ago and has turned out to be
one of the fastest breaking hits in recent years. It has already popped into the best selling rhythm and blues charts. The answer to ''Hound Dog'' comes from Sun Records, Memphis. Tenn, diskery, a wild thing called ''Bear Cat'' sung by Rufus Thomas Jnr. It
used to be that the answers to hits usually waited until the hit had started on the downward trail. but today the answers are ready a few days after records start moving upwards. This has led some to remark that the diskeries soon may be bringing out the answers
before the originals are even released''.
It wasn't long before ''Bear Cat'' became a test case. In 'Billboard' of March 28, 1953 it was reported song publishers were
seeking legal action: "In an effort to combat what has become a rampant practice by small labels - the rushing out of answers which are similar in melody and/or theme to ditties which have become smash hits - many pubbers are now retaining attorneys. Common
active, of course is to regard the answer as an original. Currently publishers are putting up a the to protect their originals from unauthorized or infringing answers." Don Robey of Peacock Records was ever the pragmatist, though, and told Billboard he had
notified the Harry Fox publishing agency "to issue Sun a license on ''Bear Cat'' in order that Robey might collect a royalty''.
The following week, Billboard reported
that Stan Lewis of Stan's Record Shop in Shreveport, Louisiana was the focus of much attention by independent labels, whose bosses were queueing to pitch him their goodies. These included, ''Jim Bulleit of the new Sun label, who arrived to chase Willie Mae
Thornton’s ''Hound Dog'' with his punchy new answer ''Bearcat'' by Rufus Thomas''. Bulleit had been hard on the case, achieving some seriously good publicity for the new label and for ''Bear Cat'' even before the disc hit the stores. ''Bear Cat'' was
the Billboard Buy Of The Week on 11 April: ''The answer to ''Hound Dog'' broke loose this week with fury. Hit a number of territorial charts and also is registering strongly in Chicago and around Nashville''. It reached the national rhythm and blues charts
on April 18, 1953, stayed for eight weeks in the top ten and number three.
By May, according to Billboard, "Word has it that Rufus Thomas Jnr., who waxed the smash ''Bear
Cat'' for Sun Records, is turning down many a one-fighter so he can remain mike side at his WDIA deejay post''. Nevertheless, Rufus did form a touring band of sorts, called the Bearcats. He said, "I worked all over Memphis. We had four or five pieces in the
band most times. We did a lot of work after I had ''Bear Cat'''out."
Meantime Sam Phillips was still handling the fallout of his success. Don Robey's Lion Publishing
Company had sued Sun for infringing the copyright on ''Hound Dog'' and the U. S. Court had ruled that Sun had indeed perpetrated an infringement BMI denied Sun clearanc disc until Sun agreed to pay two cents per record on all discs sold to Lion Music. Robey
wrote to Phillips on 8 July, thanking him "kindly for your co-operation in this matter''. He had written Phillips earlier, in April, pointing out the need for Sun to pay him, and hoping, ''this will not causy any unfriendly relations, but please remember that
I have to pay when I intrude upon the rights of others, and certainly must protect my own rights''. The nature of the independent record business was such that by July, Lion itself was in court defending the contention of Syd Nathan Records in Cincinnati that
he had an interest in the song ''Hound Dog'' and should have a fifty per cent share of its success.
By April 1954, a year further on, Billboard had decided that ''Answers
(Are) Not The Answer: The year 1953 saw an important precedent set in regard to answer tunes. Since the ''Hound Dog'' decision, few diskeries have attempted to answer smash hits by other companies by use same tune with different lyrics''. Follow up They might
have stopped to think about Rufus's own follow up disc, ''Tiger Man'', where he attempted to plagiarise his own hit, ''Bear Cat''. He had moved on feline world, or rather, his session guitarist, Joe Hill Louis, had, turning his attention to the king jungle.
Louis had been the session guitarist on ''Bear Cat'' and its success naturally spurred him to think up a new angle on the song. He probably saw his new song as a hit for himself, making
two recordings of ''Tiger Man'' around May 1953, a demo with unknown piano and drums and a more finished version with Albert Williams playing piano and Walter Horton on harmonica along with an unknown drummer. Louis carries the first version on guitar and
sings in a restrained manner. He breaks out much more on the second version where his vocal is more to the fore while the others carry the instrumental lead. Louis's second version is included here for comparison with the tour de force Rufus recorded just
a few weeks later.
The Sun recording files show that Rufus Thomas went into the studio to cut ''Tiger Man'' on the last day of June. Houston Stokes remained on drums,
but Rufus did not have Joe Hill Louis along since Floyd Murphy is listed as guitarist, and indeed is audibly present. Whether Louis was unavailable or whether he had been cut out of being the featured artist on his own song we can only guess. Certainly, he
found that when Rufus's recording was released, half the composing credit went to Sam Phillips' wife under her maiden name of Burns. There were three other musicians new to Rufus's sessions but who were stalwarts of Phillips' blues recording sessions: James
Wheeler on tenor sax, Bill Johnson on piano and Kenneth Banks on bass. A slightly bigger band, but Sun was still operating on a budget and it was logged that the session men were paid just ten dollars each on the day.
As on ''Bear Cat'', the band contributed well to the mayhem Rufus created on ''Tiger Man'', but it was again the vocal that took most of a listeners attention. Compared to Joe Hill Louis's own very good blues
vocals on his versions, Rufus now added the 'performance' factor to the song – from the Tarzan calls at the start to the hoarsely shouted lyrics and the Tarzan outro - taking it to a sphere Louis could not match for bower and mischief. Floyd Murphy plays
some fine fills and takes a flowing solo of the kind on Junior Parker's contemporary Sun recordings. Marion Keisker noted that the master of ''Tiger Man'' was ''cut 4 on the second tape" and so Rufus may have made any number of attempts of the tune.
The only other song recorded at the session was ''Save That Money'', a slow blues with jazzy guitar from Murphy and a smooth saxophone figure throughout by James Wheeler. Rufus again shows
a good straight singer he could be, really opening out to shout the pain of the lyric that remembered the Depression era ''when times were hard". Perhaps this was not the message people wanted to twenty years later. Certainly, the reviewer for Billboard was
unimpressed, saying of the title: ''It's good advice, but not a noteworthy record". Actually, it was a rather good one but destined to be lost in the shadow of ''Bear Cat'' and ''Tiger Man''.
''Tiger Man'' with ''Save That Money'' was issued at the end of September 1953 as Sun 188, once the sales of ''Bear Cat'' started to diminish and on the back of some publicity for Rufus in the trade press that August and September: "Rufus
Thomas of Sun Records" was, on the 'Cool Train' show on WDIA every Saturday, and "Nat Williams and Rufus Thomas join together for three hours each Saturday as conductor and engineer of this popular streamliner''.
Despite his continuing high profile locally, Rufus's ''Tiger Man'' was not the national rhythm and blues smash that Sun might have expected. Billboard called it a novelty blues whose "lyric does not make n sense, but will get
some attention because of its weird quality''. It sold well but it did not dent the charts. By the time it was released, Sun was handling a major hit with ''Just Walkin' In The Rain'' by the Prisonaires vocal group, and it may be that Rufus's disc didn't quite
get the extra promotion otherwise would have had. The tiger had a second lease on life years later when recorded by Presley, but by then Joe Hill Louis was no longer around to collect his writer's royalties.
Surprisingly, perhaps, there were to be no more Rufus Thomas records on Sun. Less surprisingly, maybe in the light of comments that Rufus made to interviewers in later years. He told Peter Guralnick, "Me and Sam Phillips ...
we were tighter than the nuts on the Brooklyn Bridge – then. Of course he was like all the folk at that time. You know how if blacks had something and didn't no way to exploit it and the white dudes would pick it up and do something about it, they'd
just beat out of all of it, that's all. Well, that was him, that as Sam Phillips. Oh man, I guess I lot of it too, like most black folk''. Talking to John Floyd in the 1990s, Rufus was even more to the point, saying: "Sam Phillips was an arrogant bastard.
He is today. Back then he had a big car, a Bentley, end he'd boast about the money he made that got him this car. I said, 'Yeah, but if it hadn't been for me, he wouldn't have had that car'. I made the first record for him that got a hit''. The truth, as usual,
was multifaceted, and Sam was more likely scuffling at that time than driving a Bentley. Certainly, correspondence between Sam and his brother Jud makes it very clear how close to bankruptcy Sun Records was until Carl Perkins and Johnny Cash started to make
hits in 1956.
Years later, during a European tour, Rufus once told writer Roger St Pierre, rather dismissively: "Yeh, Sun was a blues label when it set out and we did
''Bear Cat'' which was a big smash ... I cut a number of things for Sun, though I can't ever remember signing a contract''. In fact, in Sun's books Marion Keisker logged the fact that Rufus signed his contract with Sun on 13 March 1953. He was paid on five
occasions between March 23, and June 27, in advance royalties on ''Bear Cat'', totaling 275 dollars. He received three advance checks on ''Tiger Man'' between August 1953 and February 1954, some 480 dollars, but after that the contract, and the record of payment,
Not long after ''Tiger Man'' came out, Rufus was as usual deeply involved in radio WDIA's showpiece event of the year. Billboard of November 7, announced plans
for the station's "Fifth Annual Goodwill Revue for Handicapped Negro Children (which) will present one of the strongest spiritual and rhythm and blues talent line-ups ever. A crowd of up to 60,000 (probably a typo for 6000 is expected to fill the Ellis Auditorium
on December 4, to see B.B. King, Lloyd Price, Muddy Waters, Eddie Boyd, Little Walter, Helen Thompson, the Soul Stirrers, and WDIA personalities Alex Bradford, the Caravans, Rufus Thomas, Moohah the Spirit of Memphis Quartet, the Southern Wonders and Al Jackson's
band. All the artists are giving their time in order to raise money for the charity. And their diskeries - Specialty, Chess, United and Starmaker - are defraying their expenses''.
Sun was not mentioned. This may be an omission or it may have reflected a dispute betty Rufus and Sun. Even, perhaps, that Rufus was planning to record for a new label being set up in Semi WDIA had become known as ''The Goodwill Station'' because of its charitable
and community based work but it was also known as the 'Starmaker' station because singers like B.B. King and Rufus himself started there, and a new Starmaker Records label was announced in November in Billboard as "the new label of David James Mattis, who
started Duke Records last year. Talent with the label includes Danny Day and Moohah, with records cut by those artists already being shipped out to the jocks and to stores. The label is affiliated with radio station WDIA''. Mattis had set up Duke in July 1952
and had see immediate success with Memphis based singers including Johnny Ace, Rosco Gordon, and Bobby Bland, but Duke was soon taken over by Peacock Records in Texas. As it turned out, Starmaker did last long enough either to still be there at the end of
Rufus's Sun contract in March 1954.
One of the Starmaker discs featured Rufus's fellow WDIA disc jockey and announcer, A. C. Moohah' Williams, who had the ''Wheelin''
On Beale show. Williams was still a biology teacher at Manassas High School when he started at WDIA in 1949, but he soon became the first full time black employee of the station working on promotion and organization of events as well as hosting shows. He set
up the Teen Town Singers group that changed personnel each year to include the best talent from all seven of the local black High Schools. We have included his recordings, because it features a band of musicians led by tenor saxophonist Bill Fort that often
worked with Rufus Thomas, and because it adds another chapter to the 'Answer' song saga in Memphis.
Moohah's comical song ''All Shook Out'' seems to have been the 'Answer'
to Faye Adams' number one rhythm and blues hit ''Shake A Hand'' on Herald. Adams' disc had entered the charts that August and stayed for five months. In their response, Moohah and Mattis had clearly taken the blueprint from ''Bear Cat'', perhaps hoping that
Starmaker could be launched into serious competition with Sun. The song may also have had secondary reference to the glad-handing that went on during the annual WDIA Goodwill Revue.
Shook Out'' and its other side, ''Candy'', were both driving rhythm and blues honkers in the tradition of Wynonie Harris, Roy Brown and other blues shouters. ''All Shook Out'' opens deceptively slowly but soon stomps along in support of Moohah's nonsense lyric
about the perils of hand shaking. There is a storming sax solo midway by Bill Fort and his tight band propels the whole performance with piano and drums to the fore. Actually the song was not Moohah's but was written by David James Mattis, as was the flipside.
On the record, ''Candy'' is about the girl who sweet-talks Moohah out of his mind. but David James said he originally wrote the song about his dog.
were issued on Starmaker 501 among the new rhythm and blues releases at the end of November, just in time for the Goodwill Revue. There was also a Starmaker 502 which contained two blues ballads by Memphis band singer Dick Cole recording under the name Danny
Day. ''You Scare Me'' and ''Wishing'', issued at the same time. There was also one gospel release by Bessie Griffin, '' Too Close To Heaven'', Starmaker 101, but these three seem to be all that the label issued. David James told researcher George Moonoogian
that the label failed because a WDIA secretary was too zealous in chasing up debts and threatened all his distributor contacts with legal action. Mattis was not the only one to try to get into the rhythm and blues record business in Memphis in the middle 1950s.
B.B. King had the Blues Boy Kingdom label and there was another short-lived label called Tan Town Records that issued recordings by the popular Spirit of Memphis Quartet and others.
Thomas spent 1954 and most of the next two years entrenched in his radio work and personal appearances and he did not record again until the end of 1956. He retained some kind of a national profile, being featured in the trade press occasionally. He was mentioned
as part of the publicity for the 1954 and 1955 Goodwill Revues but he had no record to promote at a Revue until 1956 when he joined Meteor Records, owned by Lester Bihari and situated in a black neighbourhood of Memphis.
Little is known about the short-lived Meteor episode and only two titles have survived from the session or sessions Rufus made at their rudimentary studio on Chelsea Avenue. Nevertheless Meteor 5039, which coupled
''The Easy Livin' Plan'' and ''I'm Steady Holding On'' is a mighty record. As far as people can remember the band was basically the musicians who played with Rufus regularly around Memphis, billed usually as the Bearcats. They included tenor saxophonists Evelyn
Young, who had been on the Star Talent disc, and Harvey Simmons, along with a rhythm section of Lewis Steinberg on bass and Jeff Greyer on drums. The band sets up a storming shuffle as Rufus delivers a clever lyric about how to live life on the ''The Easy
Livin' Plan''. The almost chanted list of the teachers, preachers, and the gambling men, the chauffeurs, stenographer girls, and Alabama bound sisters in the corner, all living life to the full, is an unforgettable moment in rhythm and blues lyricism. In contrast
the slower paced ''I'm Steady Holding On'' is at once both a boastful and plaintive blues. Rufus told Peter Guralnick. ''I wrote one of the first songs that Bobby Bland ever sung: 'I got a new kind of loving that other men cant catch on/While they losing out
I'm steady holding on'. It was a good tune. Bobby sang it on the Amateur Show and won first prize''.
Jim Stewart was a bank teller and part-time country fiddle player
when he set up Satellite Records in Memphis in 1958 with his sister, Estelle Axton. They started with country music and then had an rhythm and blues group record by the Vel Tones that Rufus played on WDIA in 1959. Then on day in the spring of 1960, Rufus turned
up at Stewart's new studio on McLemore Avenue pitching a song written by his daughter, Carla. ''Cause I Love You'' was recorded as a duet by Rufus and Carla and it became a small hit on Satellite 102 that summer. Carla's song ''Gee Whiz'' became a top ten
rhythm and blues and popular hit the following year, by when the label had become Stax Records.
In January 1963 Stax released Rufus Thomas singing ''The Dog'', a dance
tune he'd worked up after watching a girl dancing at a show in Millington. Tennessee. The song made number 22 in the rhythm and blues charts and was followed the next year by ''Walking The Dog'', a number five rhythm and blues hit that also made the popular
top ten in November 1963. It had taken ten years, but the entertaining man with the animal songs was back - and bigger than ever.
Rufus had other hits at Stax, but often
said he didn't really fit into their operation. ''I wasn't happy with the material they kept coming up with. They are great guys but they can't write or produce the song I need.
MGs are incredibly talented musicians but they have their style and they tended to imprint it loo heavily on my recordings''. Nevertheless, in 1970 he had another number five rhythm and blues hit with another improvised dance tune, this time made up at a club
in Covington, Tennessee, titled ''Do The Funky Chicken''. Then at the start of 1971 Rufus registered his first number one rhythm and blues hit with ''Do The Push And Pull''. It was followed with the almost as successful number two hit ''The Breakdown''. He
continued to register smaller hits well into the 1970s, twenty-five years after he had started his recording career, and to make well-received CD albums for many years after that.
the back of his1960s hits, Rufus started to take his entertaining show out of Memphis, including to Europe. In December 1964 he was playing the Flamingo Club in London and the Kilburn State Ballroom , safe in the knowledge that he had a radio job to go back
to. He credits WDIAs program director, David James Mattis, for this: ''He let me go out on Saturdays and Friday nights and make air told me to go, and when I came back I would always have my job there waiting for me. I could go on tour, and when I came back
I knew everything was all right. Without David James just probably I would never have gotten where I got''.
Rufus played increasingly to white and mixed audiences and,
despite his deep roots in Beale Street and his sceticism about the way black artists were disadvantaged. he genuinely was happy to tell Peter Guralnick: ''College audiences are the greatest audiences in the world. I must have played every fraternity house
there was in the South. When we played Ole Miss they'd send the girls home at midnight, and then we'd tell nasty jokes and all that stuff. Oh man, we used to have some good times down there in Oxford''. He told Neil Slaven in 1996, ''When I'm onstage and I
look out there at that audience, I don't see colour. I see people packet in a place, there to see me. There is not a greater satisfaction in the world''. However, he added, ''There is no telling how far I could have gone, had I been a white boy. I've always
said that. I'm not bitter, I want you to know, but it does bother you''.
Rufus appeared in various movies, from ''Wattstax'' in 1973 to ''Great Balls Of Fire'' in 1989
and ''Only The Strong Survive'', a D. A. Pennebaker film about rhythm and blues musicians. Pennebaker said: ''You knew he was an old person, but he acted like a 16 year old. He was always full of funny takes on things and he always gave the impression he was
a goofball. But when he talked about the music, you realized he knew a lot''.
''His pipes remain as convincing as the rusty hinges on an old barn door, said a reviewer
when Rufus appeared in London in 1986, and those pipes continued to make make records. After Stax, Rufus was with u number of labels including Alligator in the 1980s and High Stacks in the 1990s.
At age 81, in 1998, Rufus had triple bypass heart surgery and was fitted with a pacemaker. His publicist at High Stacks Records said: ''When he went back in for tests before Christmas, he was so full of energy that hospitalizing him was like
putting a rabbit in a box. The other patients have the benefit of his great smile and his constant jokes."
Rufus continued to contribute to life and music in Memphis
for another three years, enjoying his loves of baseball, ice cream, and black music, and embodying the philosophies he had dispensed to interviewers over the years. He had told Neil Slaven, "You stop when you get old - and who's old? I've been to the school
of hard knocks for all these years and that's where it comes from - Sidewalk University''. He told Louis Cantor, ''I've always worked several jobs to try to make ends meet. And every time I think I've got my ends to meet, somebody comes up and moves the ends''.
Talking of his music, he told Roger St. Pierr: "My stuff has got to be simple, direct. I figure that if you can whistle, dance, sing, , hum, pop your fingers, it's just got to be a bigger hit.'
Thinking about his life as a black entertainer whose career developed beyond what he might have imagined , but at the same time feeling constricted by his colour, Rufus conceded. "I've gained quite a bit of popularity, and when I die people
are going to know about me. This is fine. But they could know about me a little better. I know I make good music. Good music that everybody likes."
time in 2001, Rufus Thomas was hospitalized again and he died on 15 December in St Francis Hospital in Memphis, aged 84. National newspapers marked the passing of the self-dubbed "World's Oldest Teenager," and the 'New York Times' called Rufus ''the jovial
patriarch of Memphis soul", Towards the end of his life, Rufus had become the official ''Ambassador To Beale Street''. Stax biographies talked about his flawless timing and innate skill in connecting to all people, his dedication to the craft of entertaining,
his ability to put people at ease, and how he helped others. Tennessee Governor Don Sundquist spoke about Rufus as an ambassador of unity: "He taught us not to see the world in black or white but in shades of blues''. Memphis renamed Hernando Street as Rufus
Thomas Boulevard, and he had his own car parking space near the site of the old Palace Theater. City mayor Willie Herenton described how he got the space: ''I had lunch with Rufus at a local cafe. And you know he had an ego, and he came to me and said, you
the mayor; well I need a parking space'. So we got him his space''.
Rufus no doubt enjoyed the mischief of making the mayor jump through hoops. ''You gotta have fun in
life'', he once said. "Music to me is fun. You see me and you'll see how much fun I have with it. More, I'll bet, than anybody else''. (MH)