The Delaney Bramlett
Interviews 2008 (Part One)
by Michael Buffalo Smith
Delaney Bramlett was born on July 1,
1939, in Pontotoc County, Mississippi.
His mother taught him the guitar, and he
moved out to Los Angeles in 1959 where
he became a session musician, later
joining Shindogs, the house band for the
ABC-TV series Shindig! (1964-66), which
also featured guitarist/keyboardist Leon
Russell.
Bonnie Lynn O'Farrell of Alton, Illinois,
an accomplished singer who had performed
with blues guitarist Albert King at age
14 and in the Ike & Tina Turner Revue at
15, moved to Los Angeles in 1967, and
met and married Delaney later that year.
Delaney soon formed a band of solid,
transient, musicians to back he and
Bonnie. The band became known as "Delaney
& Bonnie and Friends" due to its regular
changes of personnel. They secured a
recording contract with Stax Records,
and released their first album, Home, on
Stax in early 1969. The album flopped,
likely due to a serious lack of
promotion for this white act on a
decidedly black record label.
Delaney and Bonnie went on to record
several more succesful albums, and on a
tour opening for Blind Faith, they
caught the ear of Eric Clapton, who
asked to join the band.
They soon recorded a live album, On Tour
with Eric Clapton (Atco; recorded in the
UK December 7, 1969, released March
1970). This album would be the most
successful of Delaney and Bonnie's
career, reaching #29 on the Billboard
album charts. Clapton also recruited
Delaney and Bonnie and their band to
back him on his debut solo album,
recorded in late 1969/early 1970 and
produced by Delaney.
By 1971, Delaney and Bonnie's
relationship began to show signs of
strain. Their next album was rejected by
Atco, who decided to sell Delaney and
Bonnie's recording contract - including
the new album's master tapes - to CBS as
a result. Columbia/CBS released this
album, as D&B Together in March 1972. It
would be their last album of new
material, and the couple divorced in
1973.
Delaney continued onward as a solo act.
His most recent appearances on record
include the solo album Sweet Inspiration
(2003) and Jerry Lee Lewis's Last Man
Standing (2006). In 2008 he released an
all-blues outting called A New Kind of
Blues.
SWAMPLAND spoke with Delaney from his
Los Angeles home
I really love your latest album A New
Kind of Blues. Give me your thoughts on
the album and the people that played on
it.
Other than the old masters, I hadn’t
heard any old style blues lately. And I
had never had a chance to do a blues
album before. Blues or country or
anything like that. So I thought it was
about time. I just started writing some
blues songs and that’s how it came about.
I had no idea how I was going to get it
put out because most record companies
have pretty much folded. Some
subsidiaries and indies are still
hanging on. So I started a corporation
and did it my way, started my own way.
It’s run by me and my wife Susan. Of
course she does all the hard work and I
just write the songs and do the music. (Laughs)
She does all the typing and stuff with
computers. I can turn mine on, that’s
just about it.
Who all played on the album? I know
our mutual friend Greg Martin played
some on it.
He sure did. John Molo played drums,
and Chad Watson on bass, John Thomas on
keyboards, and David Scott Cohen played
some keyboards, and David Morgan - I got
a lot of Davids in my band (Laughs) -
played some keys and sang some
backgrounds with the girls. When we
overdubbed the backgrounds it was me and
David and then all the girls, so it was
a lot of fun. (Laughs)
No doubt. And there are a lot of
great songs on the album. Do you have
any personal favorites?
“What Do You Do About the Blues” is
a favorite. And “Cold & Hard Times,”
where I play a solo I thought was kind
of nice. Sounds like I was copying a
little bit of Duane Allman on there.
Everybody asks me what is my favorite
song, the answer is it’s the one I’m
writing right now. (Laughing)
I really love “Moanin’ Blues.”
Oh yeah, me too.
And the gospel tune, “I’m Gonna Be
Ready.”
My mother told me to always put a
gospel song on every album. She taught
me to play and sing from the time I was
a little bitty boy. And there was a
black guy that lived with us named R.C.
Weatherall, and he taught me about the
blues stuff. But I would play in church
every Sunday, and Mamo was a big
Christian woman, she was very steadfast
on it. I just lost her, by the way,
about three weeks ago. That was hard on
me. But she taught me one time to put a
gospel song on every album, and I did
every time except once. And I guess I
could carry all the records that that
one sold in one hand. (Laughs) It didn’t
have a gospel song on it. She said “I
told you.” It was one of the best
albums, on Stax.
Tell me a little bit more about your
Mamo, and hoe she influenced you.
Her and her sister and their first
cousin sang. They had the most beautiful
harmony I ever heard. And her and her
sister both play guitar. They were with
The Chuckwagon Gang for a while and they
sang on their own, but I don’t believe
they ever put out a record. Of course
she sang on a lot of mine. On that
acoustic album we did, Motel Shot, she
was all over that one. My aunt got sick,
and Mom was feeling pretty good and I
wanted her to see her sister before she
passed away, so I took her down to see
her sister and their first cousin came
by. I took a camera down and filmed them
all singing one more time. Of course it
wasn’t what it used to be but it still
had that beauty to it. So I got that
captured. I wouldn’t take anything for
that.
Speaking of family, didn’t your
daughter Bekka sing on the new album?
Yeah, she’s all over it. And I’ll say
this in front of anybody, she’s the best
singer on the planet. She’s amazing. All
of my girls wanted to be singers, and
they would say ‘Daddy be hard on us,
because we want to be good,’ and I’d say
I’ll be hard on you, but if you don’t
want to do this just let me know and you
can run off and play anytime you want
to. I didn’t want to be one of those
stage mother type things. So I taught
them about being a lead singer, and
about harmonies and what they meant, and
how to hit them little ol’ licks that I
do if they wanted to. And at some point
the other girls would say, I’m tired, I
want to go play. Bekka would get tears
in her eyes and say “I don’t want to go
play Daddy, I want to learn.” So I’d
tell her okay, and to just let me know
when she got tired. By the time she was
four years old she could sing three part
harmony or sing the 7th or the 9th or
whatever you wanted. I used her on a
song called “California Rain” when she
was just four or five and the harmonies
were just great. She had to hold her
headset because she was so little it
kept flopping down. (Laughs)
I was just watching a video online of
Bekka at a table with some folks singing
acapella and it was amazing. But of
course, she got it honest from both you
and Bonnie.
Yeah. That video might have been
here at the house. Every Christmas we’d
have singing. Sometimes Jerry McGee
would be here and others and we’ sit and
pick and sing. We did that on my Mom’s
91st birthday as well. Sure did. She
would have been 92 on this past March
12th if she had lived. She was just two
weeks away from it.
Just to close out the section on
Bekka, I have always enjoyed seeing her
backing up Faith Hill, but I always
maintain that Bekka herself should be
out front.
Well, if you’ll notice, Faith Hill
is now hitting a lot of vocal licks she
was taught by Bekka. They weren’t quite
as up to par as Bekka’s, but I knew
Bekka had been working with her. And
Bekka has perfect pitch, you won’t ever
see her go flat or sharp.
I love her voice. I listen to the
album she did with Billy Burnette all
the time. (Bekka and Billy)
I wrote a song for them one time,
and ended up getting to play on it
withmy daughter. And Billy is like a son
to me. I was hoping that duet would last
a while. I really loved they way they
sounded together. I don’t know what
happened. I guess they were both singing
so much with other people. But I loved
that album and their presentation
onstage was great. And the first time
they played The Ryman Auditorium they
wanted me to sing a song in their show
and I did. I remember when I walked out
there I said I can’t believe it, I’m
standing right where Hank Williams stood.
It gave me chill bumps. (Laughs) So I
got to play at The Ryman with my
daughter. And their show was incredible.
I mean, Bekka is the kind of girl who
can walk into a room full of strangers
and light it up. In thirty minutes
she’ll know every one of them. She’s
just got that personality. And Billy has
that same personality. I never really
found out what happened with that duet.
I know you have had some health
problems. Tell me about the esophagus
incident a few years back.
That was just before I started
recording the album that is out now. And
I didn’t even know what an esophagus
was. But I wanted to get me a tan, you
know. I looked like Mary White, I had a
studio tan. (Laughs) So I said well, all
that grass out there needs cutting. And
I have a big place. I couldn’t get the
tractor to work, so I just used the push
mower, and it was 115 degrees. And for
some reason there wasn’t anybody here
but me. And I started seeing fuzzy
things and felt like I might pass out. I
was sitting here on the porch steps and
a taxi cab drove up and a young man got
out. He was a young man I had been
producing named David Rosston. I said
David, what are you doing here? And he
said “I don’t know. Something told me to
get on a plane and come see you.” He
said I looked really hot, and I said
yeah, I think I got myself a little too
hot. And I asked him if he’d do me a
favor and go into the house and get me
some ice water.
He brought it to me and I just downed
that water, boom! When it hit my
esophagus, I started throwing up blood
and clots of blood. I lost seven and a
half pints of blood before I got to the
hospital. I was lucky, he said, are
there keys in that car? And I said yes.
So he drove me to the hospital. He drove
100 miles an hour. I never passed out,
and they said if I had it would have
been the end of it. His car looked like
somebody had committed a murder in it.
The doctors all got together and decided
it was my esophagus. So they immediately
ran two tubes down my throat and hey put
my esophagus back together. It took four
hours, and they couldn’t put me to
sleep. I couldn’t breathe. I thought for
sure I was going to die from not
breathing.
Finally the doctor told me they had me
back together, but they were going to
have to go in and do a clean up because
of splattering I had blood all over the
inside on my heart and liver. When I
finally got back home, I looked good. I
had lost all my baby fat and everything.
(Laughs) I had two tubes hanging out of
me and had gotten blood on my t-shirt.
One of my daughters, Suzanne came by and
saw me and screamed. She went into the
kitchen and lit up all four eyes on the
stove and started cooking. She said
Daddy I have got to put some weight back
on you! I said honey we can’t do it all
in one day. The next day I told somebody
to bring me a guitar and I had my little
cassette recorder I still write on. I
wrote down everything I wanted to write
and I started recording. (sings) “Come
on and lay me down on a big ol’ lumpy
bed.
Put your hands all over me and let me
lay down my head.” And that was the old
“Moanin’ Blues.” I wrote that one, and
then Jerry McGee came over. I asked him
to set up the recording studio for two
guitars. I told him I was still weak,
and I was going to do one take, that’s
all I could do. I had two people help me
in there so I didn’t stumble or
something. I sat down and we took one,
and that’s what’s on the record. They
asked me if I was going to make it
through the song and I said, “of course
I am.” Then I started writing all of
those other songs, “What Do You Do About
The Blues,” “A New Kind of Blues.” So we
just went in the studio and did the
album, nd now I feel fantastic.
That’s great.
So my word of warning to anyone
reading this is, don’t get yourself too
hot and then drink ice water, because
that’s what they say did it. Like I say,
I didn’t even know what an esophagus
was.
You thought it was some kind of
effects pedal. (Laughing)
(Laughing) Yeah! Where is it at, my
feet?
One of the first times I ever saw you
was in the 1971 film Vanishing Point.
Tell me a little about that experience
and how you ended up in that movie.
Well, we were doing the Festival
Express train tour up in Canada. We went
all the way across Canada, and on July 1
it was my birthday and they had told the
crowd about it, but I had forgotten it
was my birthday. So when i walked out
onstage there were 40,000 people singing
“Happy Birthday.” I asked someone, do we
wait until this song’s over before we
start, and they said “That’s for you,
dummy.” I said, oh. (Laughs) And then
bombs started going off all over the
city- boom! Boom! I said come on, that
can’t be for me. They said, “No, that’s
because it is Canada’s Independence Day.”
Ours is July 4th and theirs is the 1st.
But that was really something.
Then I had a few days off, and my
manager got a call asking if we could
fly down to Nevada, that they had a part
in this movie for me. They said we were
going to be performing in the movie, so
I asked him what song. He said I could
just pick one, or write one. So on the
plane on the way down there I wrote
“Wade in the River of Jordan” on the way
down. So we flew down to Burbank in the
Lear jet, and then we had to get in the
little puddle hopper over the mountains
to the desert in Nevada. Flying in that
little puddle hopper plane you could see
the oil shooting out, it was a little
scary. Leon (Russell) had gone to do
something else and David Gates was there
so I asked him if he’d do it.
David Gates that had the band Bread?
Yeah. Uh huh. My Mom was in it. She
was holding Bekka, who was just a baby.
And Rita Coolidge and Patrice Holloway.
After that we got back on that little
puddle hopper, and I was afraid we were
going to hit the tree tops. That thing
was sputtering and carrying on.
Would have scared me to death.
It did me! And I had my kids with me
too. Then I got the news that we were
booked on The Smothers Brothers Hour in
about three hours. I said well, I am
supposed to get back to Canada. They
told me not to worry, they’d get us back
to Canada. So after we did The Smothers
Brothers, we got back on that Lear
Commander, and I asked that pilot just
how fast we were going. He said well, I
ain’t supposed to tell you, but we are
shittin’ it and gettin’ it. (Laughs) I
said are we breaking the sound barrier?
He said, we did that a long time ago.
Then he said, do you want to fly it? I
said yeah. So I sat down in the co-pilot
chair and let me fly for a second. So we
got to do the movie and the guy liked
the song. It was a lot of fun.
Speaking of your songwriting, I heard
a bootleg of The Black Crowes from an
Australian gig a week or two ago and
they sang “Poor Ol’ Elijah.”
Somebody told me that Chris Robinson
liked our songs.
Yeah, and Gram’s as well. Among other
things.
I heard the other day that Gram (Parsons)
recorded “Never Ending Song of Love”
before he passed away and it was in the
can for years and that it had just been
released. I need to get a copy of that
and hear it. Gram was a great friend.
Every time I was about to tour, he’d
call me up and tell me to have a good
trip. I always asked him, how do you
know when I am going to leave? And he’d
laugh and say, “I’m not gonna tell you.”
And he never did.
He’d say, “I’ll be hanging out with Mamo.
Gram was a happy fellow, but he was also
a very sad man. His Dad and Mom both got
killed in a car wreck when he was small,
and they left him millions of dollars,
but he never would touch it. He never
did. He said no, I am going to be a
musician and write songs. He said if i
start spending their money, then I won’t
know what it’s like to do it on my own.
So he did everything on his own. But he
had some real kind of sadness about him
and my Mom picked up on it. He would
come over every morning while I was on
tour and sit and have coffee with her.
He didn’t miss a day. And he told me
“She saved my life.” I asked her when
she was in the hospital, “Do you know
how many lives you’ve touched or saved?”
She said no. But Gram called her Mama,
because he never had one. He was a real
friends. You’ve got friends and then
you’ve got friends, and Gram was a real
friend.
We were about the same age. We had some
great times. When we did that Motel Shot
album it was on a little six track
recorder and they hung microphones
everywhere in the house so they’d pick
up whoever was playing- me and Leon
Russell, Duane Allman, Eric Clapton,
Stephen Stills - whoever was playing.
The reason I called it Motel Shot was
because we used to wind down from our
shows and I’d say, let’s go back to the
motel and have us a motel shot. So
they’d know I had written a couple of
new songs and we’d go back to the motel
and jam on ‘em. So when we did the
album, I said this is going to be a take
one situation. There would be no take
twos. So in the middle of the session,
Gram walks in and he’s had him a few too
many beers. He walks in while Leon was
taking a solo and just says real loud,
“Hey Delaney! You ought to be recording
this. This is great!” I looked over at
him and said (whispering) “I am!” He
finally figured it out, then came over
and started singing. But you can hear
the door slam and him talking on the
album. (Laughs)
In Part Two, Delaney reminisces
about Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, Duane
Allman, a never before printed story
about Janis Joplin’s death and much
more.
The Delaney Bramlett
Interviews 2008 (Part Two) Duane, Janis
and Eric
by Michael Buffalo Smith
Tell me about the time Jimi Hendrix
played in your band.
I had Jerry McGee for a guitar
player, and we were getting ready to do
a tour. The first stop was the Hollywood
Palladium. Jerry said “Man, I just
forgot. I signed a contract to do a tour
with (Kris) Kristofferson. That was when
Kris was getting popular as a writer and
was getting into acting. So I said, what
am I going to do? Because I always hated
trying to play rhythm and lead at the
same time, you know? It cuts down on my
fun with the audience and the band. I
love to play rhythm and do some twin
guitar stuff like me and Duane did and
all that stuff. So I was sitting in the
dressing room and it was kind of dark,
and I saw this shadow of a man with a
guitar slung over his shoulder, and I
said “Jimi? Is that you?” He said “Yeah.
I heard you don’t have a guitar player.”
I said “I sure ain’t.”
And he said, “Well I’m here to be it.” I
said “Ain’t you on tour?” And he said,
“No, I’m gonna work with you until you
find a guitar player. I know all your
stuff. He said, now, when you do twin
stuff like you and Duane do, I know both
parts. Do you want me to play the lead
or the harmony?” I said “You play the
lead and I’ll take the harmony, so I’ll
have time at the end of the lead to
crank up and get ready to start singing
again. I said “You take a bunch of solos
too, so I’ll have time to play around
and have some fun. The first night at
the Palladium, you could look at peoples
faces and they were like, “Is that...no,
that can’t be him.” So after a while I
said “Hey, sing one of your songs.” So
he played an old blues song. And he
could play a guitar a little bit, you
know (Laughing)...but he just played it
straight. At the end of the show I
introduced him and the crowd went crazy.
He played the next show with me too. It
was great fun, and at the end of the set
we did a duet on “Yonder Wall.”
What stories are you willing to share
about Janis Joplin?
With Janis it was what you see is
what you get. She didn’t believe much in
her singing. That’s why she was a
screamer and all that stuff. She liked
to party, but not as much as people
thought she did. They expected her to so
she did. But one time I sat down with
her and I said “Janis, I want you to
sing this song. I just wrote it. Just
straight, me and you and the guitar.”
and she said okay. Actually she had come
by the house and asked me if I’d write
her a song, so I did. So she came over
and I sang her the song and then I said
“Now you sing it.” She said “I’m gonna
take it down to the studio and cut it
right now. Do you want to go down there
with me?” And I said yeah.
It’s the weirdest thing. The song goes
like this. (Singing) “Five o’clock in
the morning. I’m the only one around.
Lord it’s Five o’clock in the morning.
I’m the only one around. I need a little
bit of that Southern comfort. Some place
to lay my body down. I don’t want it but
I just can’t help myself. Sometimes if
feels so hard, guess I’ll wind up in a
grave yard.”
She said “That’s my song." It got to be
real late. Of course in those days it
didn’t matter what time it was. We
didn’t have times. So about three in the
morning Paul Rothschild called and said
“Okay, the track’s done, do you want to
come on down?” She said “Yeah, Delaney’s
coming with me, but I’ve got to go by my
apartment first for a little bit. But
Delaney’s coming on down and I’ll see
you guys down there."
She was getting real popular and people
bothered her a lot at that time, so she
had to let him know to let me in. So I
went down there an Paul let me in and we
were sitting there, and sitting there.
And Paul said “Where’s she at?” I said
“She said she’d just be a minute, she
was going by her apartment.” And she had
this one girl that kind of looked after
her, like a personal assistant so she
wouldn’t be the only girl out there with
all those guys. So we called the
assistant and told her to run by Janis’
apartment and tell her we were waiting
on her and we’re little worried about
her. So she went over to the apartment
and found Janis dead. She’d fallen
between two beds and couldn’t get up and
drowned on her own vomit. There was an
empty bottle of Southern Comfort there,
and I think she downed it before she
came to the session and just tripped.
That’s what it looked like. It’s really
weird that I had written that song that
day. Five o’clock in the morning, that’s
when she died. I need some Southern
Comfort. A place just to lay my body
down. I couldn’t believe that.
That’s spooky.
Yeah, and soon after that her
producer Paul died. Come to think of it,
I don’t believe I’ve ever told that
story about Janis to the media in all
these years.
Well thank you for sharing it with us.
A Southern man talking to another
Southern man about a really special
Southern girl.
Definitely.
I was just watching the episodes of
the old Dick Cavett Show where he
interviewed Janis.
(Laughs) Oh, she was something. I
liked Cavett too. I did his show several
times.
What can you tell me about George
Harrison?
George was probably one of the
sweetest men I ever met.
Seems like he would be.
Oh, he was pure. People ask me
questions and they want me to say
something nasty about George, but I
couldn’t even if I made it up. George
was constantly seeking the Lord. He was
a very, very religious man. He could
never find a place where he was happy
though, but he was always seeking God.
And that’s why he asked me at Albert
Hall after a concert if I’d teach him to
play slide the old Mississippi blues way.
I said “George, you ain’t a bad guitar
player. You’ve done pretty good with
that little ol’ group you just left.”
(Both laughing) I said, “You don’t stink
as a guitar player.” He said no but I
don’t know how to play that stuff you
play." He said “I want to know and would
you show me how to write a gospel song
where it just praises the Lord?” And I
said that I sure would. He’s heard a lot
of my gospel stuff and he wanted to
learn how to do that. He said “I’ve
tried every kind of religion and I’m not
happy, but if I could learn to write a
song like that it just might set me on
my path.” And I said “It just might do
it.” So I came up with the first melody
I thought of, which was (sings) “He’s my
kind of guy. Do-lang, do-lang, do-lang.”
“He’s So Fine.”
Yeah. So we used the melody for a
quickie lesson. And I started singing (sings)
“My sweet Lord. I just want to feel you
Lord.” And I said we’ll throw these
backing singers in there singing “Hallelujah.”
George’s eyes were getting bigger and
bigger. The next thing I knew I was
hearing that record out on the radio.
And George called me up and told me
“Your name’s not on it as a writer but
it will be on the next pressing.” But I
knew it wouldn’t be because they’d have
to change the whole cover and everything.
But he didn’t mean to leave my name off
and it didn’t matter anyway, I was just
happy to help him out. He told me “That
song got me to where I’ve been looking
to go.” And I said “Well, it was worth
it.”
Of course every country in the world
sued him and they won. They wanted me to
go to these different countries and
testify as to how the song came about,
and I wanted to, but I had just landed a
job writing music for The Stockard
Channing Show. I said I couldn’t leave
town because they were shooting a whole
bunch of those things. He said “I’ll see
if Bonnie can, because she was there.” I
said I didn’t know if that would work,
but I said “She’ll enjoy a free trip.
She’ll take a free trip in a minute. The
first court they asked her, “Did you
write any of that with George?” She said
“No.” The judge called it hearsay and
said he couldn’t take her testimony. If
she’d done what I did, then it would
have been fine. But I’ve hated it ever
since that I couldn’t go over there and
help George. It might not have made a
difference but I think that it probably
would have. But you don’t break a
contract with Stockard Channing. She’s
rowdy enough without that. She’ll cut
your eyes out. (Laughs)
How did you first meet your friend
Duane Allman?
I met Duane through Jerry Wexler. I
had met him before, but we didn’t get to
know each other or anything like that.
I’d seen him doing sessions with Aretha
and stuff. But Jerry told me, “You need
to get together with Duane Allman. You
two would make some classic records, the
way you play guitar and the way he plays.
I said yeah, but he’s got a band. Jerry
said “It’s worth a try.” So I called him
up and asked him what he was doing nd he
said nothing. I asked him if he’d play
some shows with me, and he said “Yeah!
Delaney I’ve always wanted to play with
you.” I said, “Well I’ve always loved
your playing.” Before I knew it he was
at my house. From then on, The Allman
Brothers would be on tour and they’d be
looking for Duane and he’d be out here
on tour with me. (Laughs) He’d call me
from the airport and say hey bro, can
you come pick me up? I’m here.
Phil Walden, who owned their record
company, sued me about seven or eight
times for soliciting. Duane would always
say “Nope, you can’t sue him. I’m the
one who solicited him.” So nothing ever
came of it. But we got to be best
friends, and if you saw one of us you
saw the other. And King Curtis rounded
out the trio. I mean, me and Duane and
Curtis, we hung together and we made
some real good music. You know Duane got
little strung out on drugs, and I talked
to him and asked him before he got any
worse if he’d go to the hospital. He
said, “Do you think it would work?” He
got to the hospital, and it would have
been easy because he wasn’t that bad off,
but he was like me and had a bad temper.
He told the nurse, “I need a little
something to calm me down. I’m kind of
hurting.” And the nurse yelled at him,
“Oh all you druggie hippie musicians
come here for help and just go back out
and do it all again!” It made him mad,
so he just got up, put his clothes on
and got on his motorcycle and took off.
And that’s when he hit that peach truck
and died.
He was supposed to play with me the next
night. We had two shows scheduled. I did
the first show, looking for Duane. Then
I asked my brother who was my manager at
the time if he’d herd from Duane and he
said no. Well just as I was getting
ready to do my second show, my brother
Johnny ran out onstage and told me Duane
had been killed. I was stunned. I had to
do the second show with that on my mind.
It liked to have killed me.
Jerry (Wexler) called me and said
everybody wanted me to sing at the
funeral. I said, my God Jerry, do you
know how hard that’s gonna be? He said
yeah, but he’s your best friend. Sure
enough it was hard just like I said it
was gonna be. And see, just five weeks
before that me and Duane had gone to
Curtis’ funeral, because he was murdered,
you know. Some Puerto Ricans were
fighting outside his motel door and he
asked them to quiet down because someone
was going to call the cops, and he
didn’t want to see the cops out there.
Well, he turned around and got stabbed
in the back. When he said “You hurt me
real bad,” the guy stabbed him in the
heart. He died on the way to the
hospital. Duane and I went to his
funeral, and five weeks later I went to
Duane’s. The trio was busted up.
That’s awful man. One quote I read
some years go came from Wexler, who said
he once sat and listed to you and Duane
playing acoustic guitars on his porch
for hours. Jerry said it was some of the
very best music he had ever heard.
Yeah. (Laughs) He said, here I am a
recording producer, and you guys spent a
week here doing that, and I didn’t
record a single note of it. He said
“That was the dumbest thing I ever did
in my career. Because that was the
prettiest music I ever heard.” We would
have had enough for ten albums. I guess
it wasn’t meant to be.
I read Eric Clapton’s autobiography a
few week ago, and he had a lot of great
things to say about you, and credits you
with teaching him to sing.
Well, Eric was timid about singing.
His imagination of singing came through
the guitar. I told him he needed to
start singing, and he said he just
couldn’t do that. I told him yes, he
could. So I sat with him kind of like I
did with George. I taught him the
importance of using the diaphragm to
achieve power and the throat for tone.
I’ve done shows where I could barely
talk, but I got through them using the
diaphragm. I got through some shows on
the skin of my teeth. When I was
producing his first album, some of the
songs I would sing, and then he’d copy
me, and he’d work on them until he was
satisfied with them. If you listen
closely on the record, you can hear a
ghost of my voice on some of it.
The way I got to be friends with Eric
was when we opened a tour for Blind
Faith. He and Steve Winwood were not
getting along, and Eric nd Ginger Baker.
They wouldn’t even fly on the same plane.
Of course we just bussed it everywhere.
(Laughs) We partied and had a good time.
So one night Eric said “Can I ride the
bus with y’all?” I said “Yeah!” So we’d
just get in the back of the bus where it
was bigger and we’d just sit and write
songs. Then one night he said, “Would
you mind, when y’all are playing, if I
came out and jammed a little bit? I’ve
kind of got your songs down.” I said
“Not at all!” Later he asked me if he
could join the band, and at the end of
the tour he quit Blind Faith to come
with me. Then later after I gave George
the guitar lessons, he asked me, “You
hired Eric, will you hire me too?” I
said, “Yeah, I’ll hire you!” (Laughs)
I’ve got all kinds of pictures of us
sitting in the back of the bus. (Laughs)
We drove all over Europe in that bus.
Well. I have one last question, and
that is, can you tell our readers what
you have on the boards for the immediate
future?
Well, I am working on a new album
that I am mastering in the mastering
lab. I’ll tell you, if you like the
current album, the blues album, then the
new one is gonna knock you in the dirt.
I’m in love with this blues album, but
this new one, I can’t listen to it
without getting chill bumps myself.
There’s a lot of rock and roll on the
new one. I re-recorded a song me and
Eric wrote called “Bad Boy” that is on
there. I think it will be out in six to
eight weeks. And I am getting ready to
do a whole bunch of interviews in Europe,
and I want to start playing out and
seeing old friends and meeting some new
ones.
Well, Delaney. Thank you for your
time brother.
You are very welcome Michael. Just
call me anytime and we’ll talk some
more.
You can count on it. Thanks again.