places are electrified because of Roosevelt’s
TVA [Tennessee Valley Authority]. I think
there was a feeling on the part of musicians
about, “This whole thing is going to change
really fast,” and, “Can I get onboard or do
I get left behind?” I think that’s interesting
to think about – what happens when people
realize there’s something threatening about
this change.
Exactly. There is a scene where Glover
is downtown and he is starting to put
everything together with Guitar Sam. The
can always play music – they played folk
and didn’t get paid for years, but if you’re a
professional, what do you do? Do you play
stuff you don’t like? Robert Johnson probably sat on a street corner and sang “White
Christmas” at some point because it was just
whatever the people paying wanted to hear.
But does it feed you? For [Glover], the music
has meant something to him – but is he willing to follow it to this new place?
Going with that younger crowd, what was
it like working with Gary Clarke, Jr., who
I really needed the input of those musicians.
It was important to me that the music feel live
and as much of it be live as possible. With
Keb Mo’, I said, “I want you to go and write
your character’s arrangement of ‘Stagger
Lee.’” He’s kind of a student of the blues and
he came in with a guitar that he bought and
said, “Well, Possum only plays in G, so here
it is.” And it was great. It sounded exactly
like what those guys would have played on a
street corner.
There were some very interesting looking
A down-and-almost-out
Tyrone “Pinetop” Purvis
(Danny Glover) standing in front of the failing
Honeydripper Lounge.
Bertha Mae Spivey
(Dr. Mable John) and
Metalmouth Sims (Arthur
Lee Williams) playing to
an empty room at the
Honeydripper Lounge.
guitar comes in and you see that Glover
is exhausted; he’s contemplating what’s
going on.
Yeah, I think what it is – he’s 50-something in
1950; he’s grown up with the music. He was
there for all that New Orleans jazz, the Ma
Rainey era in the thirties and the swing era in
the forties, and now he’s playing boogie-woogie piano; but can he really make this next big
leap? A lot of people – like the jazz guys – just
wandered away. Other people figured, “I can
play this stuff – it’s not much harder than what
I’m already playing. Do kids want to see a 45-
year-old piano player?”
And is it professionally? Certainly people
www.premierguitar.com
hasn’t acted before? What was it like work-
ing with him and the other musicians who
aren’t used to acting?
With Gary, we read him and he was a little
shy, but it was like, “Oh god, he can act.” He
actually listens and does those great things
you want people to do when they’re onstage
and in the movies. The hardest thing was to
get him to be a showy player, because he’s
just not a show-off onstage. He does it all
with his fingers. In the fifties you had, I think
starting with T. Bone Walker who was like a
flash dancer before he was a guitar player,
this tradition of guys doing acrobatics onstage
and being showmen. I needed a little bit of
that from Gary.
guitars in this film, as you obviously had to
take them back to a certain style. Where
did you get those?
We had a luthier named Ted Crocker build
one after we sent him the script. I always felt
like Gary Clarke’s character was a guy who
was a radio repairman in the army and probably read an article in Popular Electronics
about what Les Paul was up to.
I wanted something that would really play and
so Ted made two identical [guitars]. One had
a radio hook-up in the back for when Gary
goes out in front of the club and the other
for the club doesn’t have the hook-up. It’s a
single coil, so it doesn’t have the humbucker.
