It’s often difficult for me to pick something out of my blues collection to listen to as it contains so many titles.  And I don’t say that in a bragging manner.  But my reality is that sometimes I head downstairs to my blues room not really knowing what I want to listen to, and I end up staring at the racks of music, slack-jawed (perhaps with a good drool going), eyes glazed over in a flustered manner about my choice.  First world problem, right? 

The other evening I was wanting to consider some blues piano, so I plopped down on the floor and started scouring the racks for the perfect blues piano collection to sate my desire.  I passed over works by Barrelhouse Chuck, Roosevelt Sykes, Erwin Helfer, Sunnyland Slim, Blind John Davis, Little Brother Montgomery, Lloyd Glenn, and Robert Shaw, among so many others, as nothing at first glance jumped out at me as the ideal blues piano music in the moment.  Just when I was about to throw my hands up in surrender to the notion that nothing was capable of satisfying my blues piano urge, there it was right in front of me.  I was staring at the Document Records collection entitled Cripple Clarence Lofton – Vol. 1 – Complete Recorded Works In Chronological Order 1935-1939.  I had found my wish!

While listening to Lofton’s “More Motion,” “Clarence’s Blues,” “Lofty Blues,” “Juice Joint,” “Salty Woman Blues,” and “Brown Skin Girls,” and other superb works in the collection, it occurred to me that I hadn’t ever presented a brief profile of Lofton and his piano blues.  Now’s the time to rectify that.

Right from the start, there is ambiguity surrounding a number of factors of Lofton’s life, including the location of his birth and the exact year of his birth.  This blogger’s best research suggests he came into the world as Clarence Clemens in late March, 1887 in Kingsport, Tennessee, a town located in both Sullivan and Hawkins Counties, an area in the far northeastern portion of the state.  And how Lofton acquired his professional surname, it too is something of a mystery.

Again, like so many of the earliest blues artists, so very little is known about Lofton’s formative years and family.  What is known is that Lofton was born lame, which gave him an obvious limp.  However, the stage name “Cripple” was more than slightly manipulative to his listeners, as when he was young, he became something of a fairly decent tap dancer on the tent show circuit; “Cripple” seems a bit strange of a moniker to take for someone who later chose the stage name that he did.  More on this later.

Not much is known about when, why, and how Lofton came to choose the piano as his ultimate performing vehicle and a way to make a living.  But what seems reasonable to believe is that he made his way northward to Chicago in 1900, a city he settled in and made home for the remainder of his life.

Lofton was one of the earliest practitioners of a style of piano that came to be known as boogie woogie, a stridently percussive manner of playing where the pianist’s right hand plays accented, recurring expressions while the left hand plays a rolling design of replicating eighth notes.  This is not to say that Lofton was not a very accomplished standard 12-bar blues piano man; he was.  But many people cite Lofton for his boogie woogie work.

Where Lofton separated himself from the pack of Chicago’s blues piano players was through the heavily vigorous stage act he developed and polished.      All the while he would be hammering out a boogie woogie on the piano, he was known to arise, twirl around, and continue to play and sing while not facing the piano.  Or, Lofton may dance or loudly stomp his feet while playing and singing, maybe even whistle while snapping his fingers if the mood struck him.  Moreover, he was known to engage his audience with jokes while playing.  Again, with the stage name “Cripple,” he was able to unfurl these physical flourishes with easy aplomb; his audiences had to be in on the irony.  And, he was known to deploy a wealth of facial expressions in an attempt to engage his audience.  It was always about the show as much as the music.

In fact, many of the established Chicago musicians saw Lofton’s actions as distracting and something of a commotion that was to be dismissed.  Nonetheless, Lofton persisted with his schtick, and while many will acknowledge that his performance technique caused his music to suffer (indeed, his initial records seem to show that vital musical components such as just hitting the correct notes or carrying out the ideal chord changes), his fans didn’t care; they reveled in his high-octane flair.

Lofton made his life’s work in the many Chicago joints where a decent piano player with an act could make a few bucks and a living.  He was a showman’s showman, and by the mid-1930s Lofton was a club favorite with a stronghold on his fans. 

It was in April, 1935 that Lofton did his first recording.  His first effort was for the Vocalion label with “Strut That Thing” and “Monkey Man Blues,” with Chicago blues giant Big Bill Broonzy providing guitar support.  An unknown washboard player was also on these sides.  Such was the start of Lofton’s recording career, one that saw him lay down tracks under his name for a variety of labels including Romeo, Conqueror, Solo Art, Session, and with performers such as All Miller and his Swing Stompers and Red Nelson on other labels like Decca.  On thing was for sure, and it was that Lofton was highly in demand for both his solo and support work.  This recording work continued well into the 1940s.

As the boogie woogie rage subsided in the later 1940s, Lofton went on to own and operate his own Chicago nightspot named the Big Apple, fully dedicating himself to this endeavor.  It was this site that the cream of Chicago’s piano bluesmen congregated, including boogie master Meade Lux Lewis and Jimmy Yancey.  Is it possible to envision what great music must have transpired there?

Boogie woogie’s hotspot was Chicago.  Think of the talent that called the city home during the earliest period of the music; Lofton, Lewis, Yancey, and Cow Cow Davenport.  And in later times, massively gifted devotees such as Erwin Helfer embraced the idiom, as did later figures such as the wildly talented Barrelhouse Chuck.

But many are not aware of the astonishing genius of Lofton and his vast influence on the world of boogie woogie, notwithstanding his formidable 12-bar blues capacities, and on other artists, as well. 

Lofton passed away in early January, 1957 in Chicago, leaving his rich heritage of blues and boogie piano skills for all of us to enjoy all these years later.