Man, was he a presence on the bandstand!  Anytime you saw Ted Harvey he invariably had a big piece of chewing gum in his mouth, chomping on it incessantly while he put the beat behind the music.  And that smile!  Harvey always seemed like the most joyous man in the house.  And he was, as he continually had time to express a good thought and words to whoever he crossed paths with, and his friendliness truly belied the musical genre, the blues, that his career was immersed within.  Especially in Chicago, where the rough and tumble scene in the south and west side ghetto joints he often performed in contained continual undercurrents of violence and threats.

This friendly and legendary drummer became known to most blues fans due to his association with Hound Dog Taylor and the HouseRockers, but his musical pedigree, professional and cheerful demeanor, and abundant percussion skills also found him in the employ of many other of the great Chicago bluesmen including Muddy Waters Band alum and Chess recording artist Jimmy Rogers, west side guitar phenom and Delmark Records recording artist Jimmy Dawkins, post-war harmonica giant Snooky Pryor, the master of harmonica tone and phrasing Big Walter Horton, formidable piano king and Muddy Waters Band alum Pinetop Perkins, slide guitar king and the ever-fezzed J.B. Hutto, and in more modern times, Chicago blues piano superman Barrelhouse Chuck.  But why was this seemingly and endlessly pleasant and richly talented blues drummer so in-demand, and what is his back story? 

As can probably be surmised if one if familiar with the shortening of first names, Ted Harvey was born in Chicago as Theodore Harvey in late 1930.  He attended and graduated from Wendell Phillips High School on E. Pershing Rd. on Chicago’s south side.  It has been written that Harvey’s family wasn’t terribly inclined toward music, and his first musical interest was the trumpet.  After high school, Harvey attended Northwestern University to study music where his interest in percussion was formed and he learned how to play the drums while there. 

After his studies at Northwestern University, Harvey worked various jobs, notably at the Campbell’s Soup facility on 35^th St. and Rockwell in Chicago, and also for the U.S. Postal Service.  At the same time, Harvey was playing in various bands, albeit those that were oriented toward non-blues danceable music.

Harvey’s interest in blues, however, blossomed and he could be found on the famed Chicago Maxwell St. scene that was originally concentrated about Maxwell St. and Halsted St. and stretching roughly nine square city blocks from Roosevelt Rd. to 16^th St.  Harvey plied his trade as a percussionist behind various blues street performers who performed at the vibrant Maxwell Street Market setting.  It was here that Harvey made the acquaintance with another Theodore, Theodore Roosevelt Taylor, the man who would eventually come to be known to his legion of rabid blues fans as Hound Dog Taylor.  And, it was a relationship that would shape Harvey’s stature as one of the blues’ most important drummers forever.

Any blues fan who has done their homework knows the story of how the world eventually embraced Hound Dog Taylor and the HouseRockers as they rose from their earliest days in the poor urban joints they played in Chicago, due to the stirring a then-young Delmark Records shipping assistant named Bruce Iglauer to begin a journey into being a record company owner and artist manager due to the sheer rawness, volume, tension, and euphoria he experienced at experiencing Hound Dog Taylor and the HouseRockers at Florence’s Lounge on the 5400 block of S. Shields Ave. during a Sunday afternoon performance.

The band featured Taylor’s infectious smile and exuberance, slashing slide guitar excursions, excitable vocals, and drive to please, Brewer Phillips’ second guitar feats at providing the perfect counterpoint to Taylor’s gnashing leads by providing astounding bass runs and leads of his own, plus also strong vocals when he was called upon, while Harvey was the ever-present blues shuffle master who held the whole of the frenzied band’s attack together, playing the part of the ultimate team member, seemingly never seeking the attention or individual credit, striving to keep things in ideal tempo.  Harvey drove the band; no, he propelled the band forward, but kept things in the idyllic groove.  His percussion visions were, as they say, always “in the pocket.”  On Harvey’s watch, the beat didn’t waver; things were always under control.  And this no mean feat, as anyone who is a blues fan of any mindfulness of the blues brand of Hound Dog Taylor and the HouseRockers knows that the band “live” was a sheet metal shearing blast of searing sound, wild, untamed, unleashed, the proverbial force of nature, a fabled group whose blues was impeccably tailored (no pun intended) for hard, hard partying, letting loose, consuming alcohol, and in general, just living in the high-spirited moment.  This was music certainly made to dance to, and Harvey’s rock-solid beat ensured that was possible.  He was the rock.

As is known, the two Hound Dog Taylor and the HouseRockers studio albums and the “live” outing recorded for Alligator Records captured the band as Iglauer found them that Sunday afternoon at Florence’s Lounge, and after Taylor passed in 1975, additional posthumous releases that included Harvey’s stellar drumming skills were released.  But Harvey got to experience the band’s rise from the south and west side haunts to finally touring the clubs and college circuits, while also opening for larger established blue artists such as Muddy Waters, Freddie King, and B.B. King.  The band was especially popular on the east coast and in the Midwest, and traveled overseas to Australia and New Zealand, benefitting from their astounding, yet albeit too brief, recorded output.

But Harvey needed to continue forward after Taylor’s demise, and as was previously outlined, he continued to provide his blues drumming command behind a great many high-profile bluesmen.  Without question, Harvey was with Jimmy Rogers the longest in his post HouseRockers career, and he continued to wage his percussion expertise until late into the 1990s.  Apart from Sam Lay, when Harvey laid his drumsticks down for the last time, without doubt, one of the last of the time-honored Chicago style shuffle drummers left a void within the blues genre.

Anyone who was fortunate enough to witness Harvey in-performance was struck by the fervor he had for the blues.  Once he hoisted himself behind his drum kit, the sheer enjoyment Harvey felt was obvious from, again, his broad smile and the wad of gum he chomped throughout the performance, along with verbal exultations.

One of my dearest friends in the blues, Barrelhouse Chuck, told me of his visit to see Harvey at his home in 2013 in Harvey, IL with noted blues guitarist Nick Moss.  Barrelhouse expressed joy at seeing his friend and collaborator again (there are photos on Barrelhouse’s Facebook page of this visit).  By this time, Harvey’s wife, Loretta, had passed away in 2005.  In early October, 2016, Harvey succumbed to heart failure and died in Harvey, IL at Ingalls Memorial Hospital.  Harvey left behind to grieve his going Home his two daughters, three sons, 12 grandchildren, and 16 great-grandchildren.  We often fail to remember that these performers that we so greatly admire are often parts of large and loving families.

Eight days later, Harvey’s services were held on Chicago’s far south side at a funeral home on the 101^st block of S. Halsted St. at Gatling’s Chapel. 

For all the mania, volume, joy, and tension that a Hound Dog Taylor and the HouseRockers show could dispatch onto the audience, in every sense, the group was a true ensemble, with each member having a vital and defining role that if it was not executed with correctness, the result would be a mess.  Just ask anyone, for instance, who has tried to replicate Phillips’ guitar parts.  They find a high level of precision must be met to pull it off well.  Obviously, the same goes for Taylor’s guitar ventures.  I just watched a YouTube video of the great modern bluesman Johnny Burgin explaining the C# tuning that Taylor used to get that ringing slide sound.  And talk to someone who has tried to reproduce Harvey’s magnificent shuffle drumming strolls to find out just how difficult the subtleties in his percussion style were.

Harvey was the perfect blues drummer at the perfect time for the perfect Chicago blues band that placed, at its core, the goal of the audience’s rollicking good time.  Listen a bit closer the next time you put on a Hound Dog Taylor and the HouseRockers song.  It’s there.  Listen to that beat.