The inherent problem with anyone writing about the blues is that their biases will eventually shine through no matter how much the author tries to remain centered and neutral.  No less a modern-day music writer that the great Peter Guralnick (one of my heroes) has also indicated such, and only when I got into offering my views on the blues years ago did I fully appreciate what he was inferring.  When I look back at my Master degree thesis, for example, a work that dealt with a particular aspect of the blues, an endeavor that also included a recommended blues discography, do I now recognize some of my blues biases.  As I have continued to write about the blues over the years, do my late-night blues radio programs, and in general just be a rabid blues fans, I fully own my biases and am comfortable with them.

Some blues fans fully tilt toward a deep excitement over harmonica players, others in the direction of guitarists, some prefer vocalists, while still others find exhilaration in the works of one-man band artisans, maybe specifically men or women performers, certain periods of the music; whatever.  The point is that the blues has a long history in the American musical tapestry and there is something to whet everyone’s interest.  So, I suppose I am no different than many other blues fans in indicating that my favoritisms are real.

I’ve always have been mesmerized and astounded by the work of blues and boogie woogie piano players; really, blues keyboard players, in general, so as to be able to include those whose work also may comprise the organ in their efforts.  Cripple Clarence Lofton, Meade Lux Lewis, Robert Shaw, Big Moose Walker, Blind John Davis, Sunnyland Slim, Barrelhouse Chuck, Erwin Helfer, Memphis Slim, Pinetop Perkins, Little Brother Montgomery, Roosevelt Sykes, Detroit Junior, Georgia Tom Dorsey, Lazy Bill Lucas, Rob Rio, Mitch Woods, Lloyd Glenn, Eddie Boyd, Leroy Carr, Floyd Dixon, Cow Cow Davenport, Otis Spann, Lovie Lee, Henry Gray, Jay McShann, Johnny Iguana, Charles Brown, and so many others; across all eras and blues styles, blues keyboard players have always captivated my interest. 

It greatly heartens me when I see the incredible work of Steven Dolins’ The Sirens Records label as it continues to primarily devote itself to delivering astounding blues and gospel keyboard collections (among many others, as well).  I have deeply lamented the passing of my friend and modern-day blues keyboard giant Barrelhouse Chuck, as his was one of the last of the true shining lights of authentic blues piano and organ work in Chicago (and all around the world wherever he took his considerable skill set), leaving only the older Erwin Helfer as arguably the last in a great line of heralded Chicago blues titans alive in Chicago.

How can these blues keyboard artists navigate the 88 keys of their chosen instrument and produce the amazing bodies of work that they do?  As is said, I can barely chew gum and walk, yet these skilled musicians find those 88 keys as the inputs to their glorious blues music works of art.  It simply astounds me.  Period.

So, yet again this past week I found myself in need of a blues piano fix, and with that hunger front-and-center, I trapsed downstairs into my blues room seeking my blues piano nourishment.  Surveying the racks and shelves of cassettes, CDs, LPs, and 78rpms, I came across the work of the celebrated blues piano man Walter Davis.  This was the ideal blues piano man to scratch my musical itch, and I pulled one of his Document Records compilations highlighting his broad body of work from its perch.

As I’ve not before presented a brief overview of Walter Davis, now seems the perfect time to do so.

As with many of the blues artists who have been profiled in these pages and in those of others, right away a discrepancy regarding the year of Davis’ birth rears its head.  There seems to be no disagreement among students of the blues as to the fact that Davis was born on March 1^st, though whether the year of his birth was 1911 or 1912 is the topic of divergence.  Nonetheless, Davis was born on a farm in Grenada, Mississippi, a town in Grenada County, an area in the north central portion of the state.

The exact impetus for Davis to choose the piano as his instrument of choice is not easily identified, though what is agreed upon is that he was self-taught.  Given the religious frameworks of the period of his youth, and what must have been a collection of more seasoned players already plying their piano skills in and around his hometown area, it seems reasonable to assume that those factors swayed a young Davis toward the piano.  Certainly, the singing in the area’s churches and that of established secular performers would have equally have been impactful upon the young Davis.

Whatever the stimuli for the Davis’ interest in the piano and his early development on the instrument, it is known that early in his teen years, with varying sources having postulated the ages of 13 and 14, he left his home and established himself in St. Louis, Missouri, itself a hotbed of blues and jazz, including many superb piano artists.  As examples, both the wildly popular Roosevelt Sykes and Peetie Wheatstraw were well-known figures on the St. Louis scene.

However, it seems that Davis’ first professional duties in St. Louis did not revolve around his piano proficiencies; rather, he was established as a vocalist for both the aforementioned Sykes and guitarist Henry Townsend.  There is no doubt at all that Davis was greatly affected by the vocal style of Leroy Carr, as too his voice, like Carr’s, possessed a sorrowful quality, a characteristic that suited both his work for others and eventually his solo blues tunes; it ideally paired well with songs fraught with worry and anguish.  His vocals were moving and contained a warmness that “live” audiences and the blues record buying public were fond of.

The year 1930 was big for Davis, as it was the time he first appeared on a recording.  Recorded in June, 1930 and released in October, 1930 for the Victor label, the 78rpm “Mr. Davis’s Blues” / “M&O Blues” found Davis as the featured artist and singer, with Roosevelt Sykes providing piano accompaniment.  The song was well-received on a coast-to-coast basis upon release; it was a hit.

Sykes played piano on many of Davis’ Victor recordings, with one of his biggest hits, “Sunny Land Blues,” a 1931 release being a prime example of the collaboration.  During this period, Davis was also performing with Townsend in some St. Louis taverns, in what seemed a strategy to take full benefit of the preferred piano and guitar duet scheme that was favorably looked upon at that time.  Blues fans of-the-day greatly enjoyed this format.

There were times, however, when Davis was billed under the moniker “Hooker Joe” when he played solo club engagements.

Regarding Davis’ piano work, though he early on used Sykes as an accompanist on records, he steadily developed his unique manner of playing, one that employed a rudimentary, sometimes erratic, yet completely emotional approach.  With Davis, it was a process to bring himself to rely upon his piano playing solely.

It must be conveyed that Townsend in latter-day interviews insisted that Davis did not undertake any solo public performing, that in fact, unscrupulous club owners would try to capitalize upon Davis’ recording success by booking other blues piano playing vocalists under Davis’ name.  Townsend also maintained that Davis did not travel and perform.  It seems unreasonable to this writer that someone of Davis’ eventual recording stature did not publicly perform, however.  He had to somehow be building his lofty reputation for the record companies to invest in him.

Davis was recruited to the Bluebird label where he saw his first release in 1932, a label he stayed with into 1942, an imprint that released one of his biggest hits, 1940’s “Come Back Baby.”

During his run with Bluebird, Davis also worked together with the likes of Tampa Red on 78rpms that featured one song from each artist on an individual 78rpm’s side.        

A bit was made earlier about the moodier aspect of Davis’ blues, but he also could infuse specific of his work with extremely good double entendre features, specifically in his more humorous outings, a facet of his efforts that his loyal fans very much enjoyed.

As Davis’ star continued to rise due to his prolific recording output, he became a showcased performer in St. Louis hotels where it was not unusual to see him backed by Townsend on guitar.

In 1946, Davis made the move to the RCA Victor label, where he continued to churn out blues until 1947, when again he shifted labels over to the Bullet imprint, a label he stayed with into 1950.

In all, Davis recorded well over 150 total sides (probably closer to 160).  However, his recording career, and career in general, was curtailed by a 1952 stroke.  Certainly by that time, the new, tougher, and certainly louder electrified blues was really taking hold in the northern urban centers, and his brand of blues was rapidly becoming out-of-date.

The effect of Davis’ stroke found him changing course and working as both a hotel assistant and evangelist in St. Louis over the remaining course of his lifetime.

Davis’ most famous songs, “Sunny Land Blues,” “Come Back Baby,” “Angel Child,” “13 Highway,” “Fallin’ Rain,” “Think You Need A Shot,” “Tears Came Rolling Down,” “Pet Cream Blues,” and “Ashes In My Whiskey,” among so many others were extremely influential and covered by a host of notable musicians including Ray Charles, Muddy Waters, Lowel Fulson, B.B. King, J.B. Hutto, and Jimmy McCracklin.

Davis passed away in late October, 1963 in St. Louis.  In 2005, he was inducted into the prestigious Blues Hall Of Fame.

Not as well known as others deemed loftier in the blues piano realm, Davis was a giant in the genre, and someone whose work you should strongly consider.