Whatever stage name he went by or was referred to by his audiences, “Big Voice,” “Little B.B.,” “B.B. Junior,” or simply “Voice,” there is no denying the impassioned, moving experience of witnessing Odom on the bandstand, eyes closed, resplendent in one of his meticulously color-coordinated suits and hats, sending shockwaves of deep blue emotion into the crowd.  It was akin to going to church; Odom was preaching the blues like a fervent pastor lays the gospel teachings upon his zealous congregation.

I can remember the first time I witnessed a complete Odom performance one year at the Chicago Blues Festival.  Nattily attired in a melon-colored, fastidiously pressed sport coat with likewise black diligently hot-pressed dress trousers with a seam that could rip iron, a black dress shirt and ties and rakish similar black pocket square, all finished with gleaming dress shoes and a magnificently sophisticated fedora upon his head situated at just the right angle, the day’s brilliant blue, high sky with Lake Michigan in the background proved the ideal setting for Odom to carry the huge crowd along on his blues journey.  Folks were going to The Church Of Odom, a place where the man’s voice captured the souls of those in witness, transporting them into his realm, and ensuring that each congregational member felt, and truly underwent, his transformation into the world of blues as he suffered them.

But if Odom was so talented and enrapturing of a blues artist, why did he never ascend the ranks into that upper echelon of the music’s elite?  To suggest he was under-valued on the Chicago scene is unfortunately correct.  With every single song he sang, Odom seemed to approach it is as if it would be the last he ever delivered; his wrath with a microphone in his hand was evident.  Each syllable, every tonal utterance, when he opened his tightly closed eyes to emphasize a sung point made; each stage display indicated Odom’s complete dedication to his craft.  Established, “bigger name” Chicago blues artists welcomed him onto their stages, and perhaps therein lies the lesson as to why he never soared higher upon his own vast merits; maybe he never became self-regarding to the point necessary to establish himself as a uniquely individual entity on the blues panorama to where his marketability could become singularly identified.  No, Odom was more of a “special guest” than “the star,” but what a “special guest” he was, and he deserves some attention in this blog.

Mid-December, 1936 saw Odom come into the world in Denham Springs, Louisiana, a city in Livingston Parish, a locale in the state’s southeastern area.  Like many of the blues singers presented on these pages, Odom first began using his God-given voice in church. 

By the time he was 19 years-old, Odom had moved north to the musically rich area of East St. Louis, Illinois where he found utilization for his vocal proficiencies with blues guitar titan Albert King, and also blues guitarist Johnny Williams.  Former Ike Turner King Of Rhythm band member Johnny O’Neal formed his own band in the later 1950s after he split from Turner, and Odom then joined this aggregation.  It was through his association with O’Neal that Odom first met Earl Hooker, an encounter that would later help grow Odom’s career.

In 1960, Odom made yet another important life decision and again moved north to Chicago, Illinois.  After this move, there was no more uprooting him, as the big city endured as his lifetime home.  In “The Home Of The Blues,” as Chicago was, and is, known as, Odom reunited with Eral Hooker and took his place in the band as the featured vocalist.  Hooker’s band at that time was an all-star affair, including the astounding harmonica skill set of Carey Bell, the illustrious blues piano man Pinetop Perkins, and the distinctive sounds of the lap steel guitar stylings of the master of the instrument, Freddie Roulette.  These seasoned, big city bluesmen were, in many ways, the counter-point to Odom’s deeply poignant and soulful approach and already-emerging well-dressed image.

It was in 1961 that Odom first had the opportunity to record on a Marlo Records 45rpm of “East St. Louis” b/w “My Baby.”  Odom was billed as “B.B. Andrew” on the release. 

Odom would stay with Hooker for roughly a decade, and in 1966 he was again in the studio to lay down a 45rpm release on the Nation Records label, one located in Chicago, an imprint whose focus was on gospel and soul offerings.  The songs Odom recorded were “Turn On Your Love Light” b/w “Fattening Frogs For Snakes.”  On this release Odom was billed as “Andre Odom.”

1969 proved to be a big year for Odom with him seeing the release of his first full-length featured LP, one, though, that was not released until 1973 on the Bluesway label.  The nine-cut LP was entitled “Farther On Down The Road,” and it included Hooker as the guitarist, and the great Johnny “Big Moose” Walker on keyboards.  On this LP, Odom was billed as “Andrew ‘Voice’ Odom.”  Hooker did not live to see the LPs release, as he passed away in 1970.

After Hooker’s demise, Odom aligned himself with one of the premier Chicago west side guitarists who made their way onto the scene in the early 1970s, Jimmy Dawkins.  This affiliation would turn out to be one of long-standing for Odom, and when Dawkins went into the studio to lay down the tracks for his sophomore Delmark Records label LP entitled All For Business, he chose Odom as a featured vocalist.  Also, a 1975 LP entitled Jimmy Dawkins Big Voice Odom was released on the French Black And Blues label in 1975.

The alignment with Dawkins and Dawkins’ Delmark Records recordings offered him frequent touring opportunities, domestically and abroad, and Odom participated on those excursions, though he never abandoned the Chicago neighborhood gigs that were a staple of his existence.  The Chicago-based Wasp Music Publishing label issued 45rpms by Odom in 1974 and 1976, plus a full-length LP entitled Sings And Sings And Sings The Frank Walker Songbook in 1976 under the name “Andrew ‘BB’ Odom.”  The 1976 45rpm was issued under with the group name being “B. B. Odom With the Ear Benders.”

But no matter how hard he tried, Odom couldn’t break through as a blues star in his own right.  The reality was that Odom had a large family including a total of seven children, and this level of responsibility commanded that he sing wherever he could to make a dollar to help support his family.  This meant that he was for the most part relegated to a supporting role with “name” blues stars such as south sider Magic Slim, west side guitarist Buddy Guy, and the impressive Little Milton.  Because of this revolving door of blues artists he worked with, Odom found it virtually impossible to maintain a working band of his own to work gigs where he was the featured act.  This resulted in any type of solo blues career being very difficult to attain and keep.

In 1977, Odom was able to see an LP release on the French MCM Blues Records imprint entitled Going To California, and in 1982 he also had released Feel So Good on the French Isabel Records label, with Magic Slim & the Teardrops in support.  He was presented as “Big Voice Odom” on these LPs.

As time moved along into the 1990s, Odom continued to sing whenever and wherever he could.  Very early in the decade he was lending his considerable talents to a band named The Griff Band.  It was during this period that a couple of Canadian blues artists requested of Odom that he come and do some work with their established band named The Gold Tops.  Chicago-based label Flying Fish took possession of the demos of The Gold Tops with Odom and released the session in 1992 as Goin’ To California by Andrew B.B. Odom & The Gold Tops.  This release also included the stellar work of one of this writer’s favorite then-Chicago-based blues guitarists, Steve Freund, who also acted as the producer.  The press was kind to the release, heralding it as a solid outing.

Unfortunately, Odom didn’t see the release of Goin’ To California, as in late December, 1991, while hurrying to drive form Buddy Guy’s Legends in Chicago’s South Loop area after singing there to another opportunity at The Checkerboard Lounge on E. 43^rd St. on the city’s south side, Odom was ravaged by a heart attack and crashed his vehicle into a tree south on Michigan Avenue.  His wife was in the car, and she survived.  Unfortunately, Odom was dead by the time he reached Cook County Hospital.

Odom never rested on his laurels, as his drive to always be working somewhere indicated.  He was always striving to be on a stage, anywhere, so he could sing his brawny brand of deep, expressive blues, and maybe earn a buck or two to assist in supporting his family.  His sensitive, rich, gospel vocal tendencies were always front-and-center.  After all, Odom remained a man who faithfully attended church throughout his lifetime.

Oftentimes compared to B.B. King and Bobby “Blue” Bland for his vocal blues delivery style, a viable argument can be made that neither of the two blues stars above attained the consistently heated and moving levels that Odom always achieved.  That debate is unnecessary here.  Find an Odom release, or seek out a YouTube video of one of his committed performances, and draw your own conclusions.

In a different world at a different time, Odom’s name should’ve been first on the marquee.