Keb’ Mo’ hesitates to situate himself squarely, solidly within the realm of the blues. As he told me in the interview you can read below, he didn’t come out of the same background that fueled the gritty rural blues of the form’s elders – Lightnin’ Hopkins, Muddy Waters, or even Sonny Terry and Brownie McGee. Mo’s background is in Southern California, raised by a single mom – an upbringing he recognizes as “good.” But, he also recognizes that every situation has its own pain and redemption. When he sings “The Worst Is Yet to Come” – the so-honest-it’s-almost-funny banjo-bedecked blues number that opens his new album BluesAmericana – it’s a nod to the difficult truth about moving through anything in life: it gets worse before it gets better. But, as the rest of the album attests, it does indeed get better.
A week or so before hopping on the phone with Mo’ to discuss the confluence of blues and Americana music that infuses his new, aptly titled record, I wrote a piece for this site about the complexities that have contributed to the whitewashing of American folk music, for lack of a better phrase. I was surprised to learn that Mo’ had read the piece and appreciated my exploration of the topic. But, he also wanted to talk about some of the points I attempted to make. I was curious to learn whether I was off-base to place him among the songsters featured on the Folkways collection, and that question led us both into sensitive territory: back to the difficult task of understanding why black voices are less than prevalent in the realms of American folk and roots music. Now, for the bulk of our conversation:
Kim Ruehl: I thought maybe we could start by talking about some of those African-American songsters [from the Smithsonian album], and where you fall in the continuum of African-American folk music and storytelling. Do you feel consciously like you’re a part of that tradition, or are you doing your own thing, just aware of that tradition?
Keb’ Mo’: When I started doing what I’m doing, evolving into where I began in 1994… that was so long ago. Do I fit in it? I don’t really know. I’m not really so much aware of what I’m doing and how it fits. I’m just kind of doing what I’ve been led to do. I don’t know, really. It seems like… I don’t think I’m supposed to know. I think I’m just supposed to do it and let writers like yourself observe and make the opinion about where it is and what it is.
Ann Powers [pop critic for NPR] posted on Facebook this week that she was wondering about the utility of discussing music when the world seems to be blowing up everywhere. There are all these conflicts. I thought of your song “The Worst Is Yet to Come.” It’s a personal song, but there’s more to it, too. Then again, there’s also that line: “The sun will shine.”
The bridge is the whole song, you know. To me all the other verses were written just to be able to say that one line. I guess John Lennon did it with “Give Peace a Chance,” too, just saying one thing. Some days, you wake up and things look like they’re not going so great. We get wrapped up in all the things that aren’t going so great. But, at the same time, there are a lot of things that are going great… not to deny that there are things that aren’t as rosy as we want them to be. Energetically, I live in a world where all my conflicts get resolved very easily, so I don’t really have an understanding about how people would carry grudges for so long that they want to go to war over their ideology, or borders and things like that, rather than just get together and share and be one. Understand that we are all one, we’re all connected. I don’t understand [war].
But isn’t doom and gloom kind of the whole point of the blues?
It might be a big part of the blues. I think it was about expressing pain, things that are going on… Making light of it in a way that makes everyone feel comfortable in the fact that they’re maybe going through the same thing, so they don’t feel like they’re the only ones having this kind of problem. When you have something you can’t get out of, it’s a very lonely feeling. Misery loves company, though. I think people want to know they’re not alone. It makes you appreciate you’re not alone, going through it. I don’t have the backstory of a real blues guy. I don’t have a backstory like I was born down South in hard times. I was raised by a single mother in California. The standards of the blues, where things were bad… [I had it] pretty good.
I think it’s interesting that the next thing that happens on this record is “Nobody’s gonna hurt you.” It goes into unconditional love and commitment, after you admit the worst is yet to come. Was that by design, or did these songs just happen that way?
“Somebody hurt you / ain’t nobody gonna hurt you no more” – it’s very gospel in nature, more than it is the blues. Like “baby don’t you cry, mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.” It’s one of those things. Ain’t nobody going to hurt you no more. I love you. You’ve been hurt, you’ve been used, but now it’s all right. Somebody used you. That’s alright. We’re going to let it go. Somebody loves you – I love you.
I was reading an interview you did with Guitar World a few years ago, when Reflections came out. They asked you who your influences were and you said you were influenced by culture. I was wondering what culture is to you.
Culture is the things that happen in society, in life, the things I’ve heard – all the people I’ve heard culturally and musically, from the Beatles to Sonny Terry and Brownie McGee, Earth Wind and Fire to Barry Manilow. Shoot, whatever. Willie Nelson, Johnny Paycheck, George Jones, Steely Dan. Everything that comes across my ears, I’m influenced by. They’re all a part of the culture. It brings truth and light and beauty to the real world. Culture has its rules. It’s like an overlay of the truth we’re [facing] all the time. I’m influenced by that. I try to take all of that and give it out to the world. Get to the core of what life is about, as far as I understand it.
There’s been a long discussion in the Americana world, which I was trying to get at in the piece I wrote that you read, about the absence… well I don’t want to say absence, because certainly there are a lot of non-white players out there that are doing great work. But, it’s not getting as much attention as Emmylou and Buddy Miller and that crowd. I don’t know if that’s because of race, or if it’s just because that’s America, so that’s Americana. What do you think about that?
I think ideas and culture, racism… I don’t like to call it racism. There is an underlying current of racism in society and the world, within cultures and communities, within the African and African-American communities, within the white communities… There is a degree of racism and separatism, which in some ways is kind of natural. People like to be around people who are like them. But to discriminate, to say, “No, you can’t come around because you are different,” that’s where the small-mindedness comes in. There’s fear, too. Sometimes some people are afraid to be around other people because of… like when I was a kid in Compton, I came to California in 1967 with my family and as we moved in, all the white folks were moving out because they didn’t want their kids around the black folks. They left and went out to other neighborhoods. So I’ve seen it, but I’ve also seen the evolution of it. I’ve seen a lot of that disappear. I don’t want to speak on it and talk about how things are. I know that, in terms of business, it’s easy to separate people through music and culture and financial opportunities. But, music, when you listen to it, when you listen to the radio, it’s separated. Don’t you think?
Yeah, absolutely.
I think it’s through the business. Also, the black community, because the black community is traditionally separated, musically. The radio stations… back in the 1950s, when Little Richard came out, the white folks wanted to hear the same song played by a white artist, so they could go hear the white artist with all white people. That’s based on fear, and it’s money-driven too. Record it again – there’s more money. It’s not just one thing you can put it on. It’s like the design was put out a long time ago, and it’s just been working. Have you ever read the Willie Lynch letter?
No.
Willie Lynch was who they named lynching after. Look up the Wille Lynch letter.
In the Caribbean, there was an uprising of some slaves. They killed slave owners. There was concern all over the slave communities, especially in the South, that it would spread through the South and mess up the economy if slaves started to uprise. They brought in a consultant to handle the situation and that person was Willie Lynch. He instructed them on how to handle the slaves. He said, “If you do this right, you won’t have to worry about the slaves and the Africans for four generations. For 100 years or more. Those things will be so ingrained in the culture that it’ll just perpetuate itself and you won’t have to worry.”
There are so many things working in the society here. So, the black population is put aside, all this music comes out – the gospel music, blues, soul, R&B. That’s where all the Aretha Franklins and Sam Cookes, and you name it. If they can sing, they probably came out of the church. It’s a breeding ground. This high level of performance came about, of singing, it’s amazing. It came to where black people didn’t need to go hear other music, nor did they even really like it because it wasn’t as soulful as the music of the church.
For me, as an African-American artist, I never made a mark as a singer revered by the African-American community. I’m not bitter about that, I just have a great understanding of African-American culture and music, and I understand where I fit in the world of music. I understand how I relate across the board and what’s going on. It makes me very happy to have a gig.
These are all very sensitive subjects and sensitive topics, and I hope in speaking about them I haven’t said anything that would offend anybody or make anyone uncomfortable. But I just look at it: I’m trying to respond to what I saw in your article.
I think it’s important. I didn’t know about the Willie Lynch letter. I didn’t know that was one person’s recommendation. That colors everything in a different light for me. It’s important to know history, so we can try to make these topics a little less sensitive.
[laughs] I talk a lot in hopes that you’ll take the light-weight stuff in the article.
[laughs] Well, then let’s talk about the title: BluesAmericana. Is there a difference between blues and Americana? Where do they overlap?
Blues is Americana. I see the whole picture. When I look at it in terms of what it is, [Americana is] an offshoot of country music. Maybe a more liberal and less right-wing form of country music. It’s a beautiful thing, but once again the music itself lends it to a white audience. I don’t know very many people who are going to go listen to Americana concerts – African-Americans. But I think the white audience is more open-minded and also the white audience has more dollars to spend over all to go see more concerts. There’s not as much expendable income in this community. To get their dollars, you’re going to have to work harder and really bring it. [You’re competing with] what they see in church on Sunday. That’s pretty spectacular music in their mind.
Is there anything else you want to add?
I want to say that all these things we’ve talked about are in light of answering a question… I don’t have any kind of bitterness. I have no bitterness about anything. These aren’t things where I feel I need to go out and start a campaign. They’re just observations. I’m just describing in my own words the best I can. I’m very grateful for my audience. The African-American community made me. They’re the ones who taught me how to do what I do. I was created by both sides. I look at it all as one culture, one piece of one thing. It’s all good in my book.
