The noted and well-respected music researcher and writer Peter Guralnick (the man is a god to me) once said something to the effect, and I paraphrase here, that the blues moved something deep down within him, that it just felt right (my apologies Peter for not having your exact quote in front of me).  I was very early in my blues journey when I first read Guralnick’s words, and they perfectly and completely encapsulated exactly why I was drawn into the music.  There is a large element of my decades-long fascination with the blues that I cannot easily summarize except to say that within my soul the music touches me in many ways that other genres never have or will.

Within its fans, the blues stirs as many emotions as there are people.  For some, it is a coping mechanism that relieves, through common threads, unfortunate memories and emotional pain.  For others, it serves as a conduit to a generations-long heritage.  Many find the blues is a long-time music of celebration and good times.  Some, like me and others, can’t put it into words; it just “is.”

As many poignant emotions as the blues can awaken, there have been and are artists whose personal styles fuel and satisfy those feelings.  While one may prefer a soulful singer, another may find a stinging guitar the ideal prescription for a certain feeling, while still others may find their idyllic blues either in a band format or delivered in a solo format (say, through a piano player), the ideal manner in which to delve into one’s emotional sensations.  It is truly unique to each blues fan how the music rouses emotions and then helps deal with them.

While I’ve always been partial to the classic post-war Chicago band lineup of a guitar, bass, harmonica, piano, and drums, to limit myself exclusively to that blues distribution configuration is not who I am.  Over all the years I’ve been absorbed by the blues, I also have acquired a great appreciation for many of the music’s styles.  To be sure, like anyone else, I let my biases show, and if you’re around me enough or read sufficient of my writings, you’ll no doubt easily sniff those out.  And that’s OK; they’re out there, visible, not hidden, and need no explanation.  They just “are.”

So, the other night I was in the mood for some music, and as I am wont to do, I approached my broad collection (seriously, and not bragging here), no one should have the thousands of titles that I do in my collection.  It is a bit silly, perhaps, at my tender age of almost 64 to still be rabidly collecting blues to the level that I am.  I’ve always said that I intend, at some point, to attempt to create at my alma mater, Indiana University, a blues library through the donation of my entire collection so that others may have at their disposal for academic considerations the whole of my blues assemblage.  My long-suffering wife pleasantly and patiently tolerates my blues collecting, along with my other amassing idiosyncrasy (fine timepieces, always with a kind smile and a supportive spirit.  The woman deserves a medal.

But on the night in question, straight-ahead blues wasn’t the ticket for admission into my listening pleasure.  I knew it wasn’t soul, or R&B, and not roots music; so, what was it?  As my eyes scanned the racks of music in my blues room and I shifted into the “L” section, there it was, the elixir for what musically ailed me.  One of my favorite music-makers of all-time was well-represented with myriad compilations, and I knew it was the answer.  The always-satisfying sounds of songster Mance Lipscomb unfolded as the night’s soundtrack.

You see, Lipscomb’s music is not confined to the blues, though he is very adept within that field of song.  No, Lipscomb’s music is much, much more.  Whether it is the blues, pop-songs-of-the-day, Tin Pan Alley, folk, ballads, and spirituals, of which he could present and sing in many keys and sub-styles, Lipscomb’s unadorned presentations always, and I mean always, quench.  Much in the way that Jimmy Reed’s simpler post-war blues creations mollify, so do those from Lipscomb’s touch. 

With Lipscomb on my mind, I’d like to present a brief overview of his life and recommend certain of his recordings as a way to hopefully rouse those who have not before considered his music to do so.

Beau De Glen Lipscomb came into the world in early April, 1895 in Navasota, Texas, a town that resides majorly in Grimes County in the far southwestern portion of the state.  A part of Navasota also lies in Brazos County.  Due to Lipscomb hailing form Grimes County, the County was entitled “The Blues Capital Of Texas” by the state’s governing body.

Lipscomb’s first guitar was bought for him by his mother, and he is said to have learned to play it through observation, absorbing the numerous forms of music that were all around him.  His father was born into slavery, though he never really got the opportunity to establish much of a relationship with him as he left the family early in his life.  Interestingly, the name “Mance” was taken by Lipscomb upon the recommendation of his older male sibling.  It is a take on the word “emancipation.”  Lipscomb eventually came to develop his skills to a level that allowed him to play the various social gatherings in the Navasota area.  Once Lipscomb was wed, he and his spouse held many such events at their place.  He had taken to sharecropping as his life’s work, and his farm became the place he most often performed until the early 1960s.

In 1960, as a resurgence of interest in deep South country blues unfolded, noted blues researcher Mack McCormick and record producer Chris Strachwitz (of Arhoolie Records fame) found Lipscomb and recorded him, presenting Lipscomb and his musical range to a whole new generation and ethnic group, young whites who were setting the stage of the folk blues revival, setting him on a course toward much greater notoriety. 

This discovery led Lipscomb to an extensive recording career, primarily for Arhoolie Records (but also one LP for the large Reprise label in 1970), while also being the impetus for his performing on the folk and blues club circuit, and the festival route, including at the very first Monterey Folk Festival appearing alongside the likes of Bob Dylan and the notable trio of Peter, Paul and Mary, among others.  Lipscomb and his music were in high demand, and he found rabid audiences in venues such as the Ash Grove club in Los Angeles, California awaiting him.

As varied as Lipscomb’s music was, and as intricate as his guitar picking was (always acoustic), he was also revered by his admiring fans as something of a learned storyteller of grand repute, to the point that he was also acknowledged as a wise sage by his enthusiasts.  Such was the air of authenticity and sincerity that Lipscomb carried.

Lipscomb’s greater-scale recording and performing career was over by 1974, at which time he retired.  Let’s remember that he did not record his first LP until he was 60 years of age.  In late January, 1976, Lipscomb succumbed to the effects of a stroke and passed away in his hometown of Navasota.

Lipscomb’s legacy is extraordinary due to his widely-varied musical wanderings, and to label him as only a blues artist wholly restricts the true enormity of Lipscomb’s musical proficiencies.  “Songster,” a designation I previously used in an attempt to frame Lipscomb’s music, ideally portrays his musical agilities.  It is why I believe that his music is timeless and substantial.

Below are Lipscomb recordings that should be of great interest to readers of this blog.  You can’t go wrong with any of them.  Expand your musical horizons with the music of Mance Lipscomb.  You’ll most assuredly be glad you did.

Recordings

Texas Blues Guitar – Arhoolie CD 001

Texas Sharecropper And Songster – Arhoolie C-205

You Got To Reap What You Sow – Arhoolie CD 398

Texas Songster – Arhoolie CD 306