Grammy winner 'Gatemouth' Brown dies

[DRL]

Grammy winner 'Gatemouth' Brown dies
Louisiana musician had escaped Katrina

Sunday, September 11, 2005; Posted: 9:36 a.m. EDT (13:36 GMT)


Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown had more than 30 recordings and won a Grammy award in 1982.

BATON ROUGE, Louisiana (AP) -- Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown, the singer and guitarist who built a 50-year career playing blues, country, jazz and Cajun music, died Saturday in his hometown of Orange, Texas, where he had gone to escape Hurricane Katrina. He was 81.

Brown, who had been battling lung cancer and heart disease, was in ill health for the past year, said Rick Cady, his booking agent.

Cady said the musician was with his family at his brother's house when he died. Brown's home in Slidell, Louisiana, a bedroom community of New Orleans, was destroyed by Katrina, Cady said.

"He was completely devastated," Cady said. "I'm sure he was heartbroken, both literally and figuratively. He evacuated successfully before the hurricane hit, but I'm sure it weighed heavily on his soul."

Although his career first took off in the 1940s with blues hits "Okie Dokie Stomp" and "Ain't That Dandy," Brown bristled when he was labeled a bluesman.

In the second half of his career, he became known as a musical jack-of-all-trades who played a half-dozen instruments and culled from jazz, country, Texas blues, and the zydeco and Cajun music of his native Louisiana.

By the end of his career, Brown had more than 30 recordings and won a Grammy award in 1982.

"I'm so unorthodox, a lot of people can't handle it," Brown said in a 2001 interview.

Brown's versatility came partly from a childhood spent in the musical mishmash of southwestern Louisiana and southeastern Texas. He was born in Vinton, Louisiana, and grew up in Orange, Texas.

Brown often said he learned to love music from his father, a railroad worker who sang and played fiddle in a Cajun band. Brown, who was dismissive of most of his contemporary blues players, named his father as his greatest musical influence.

"If I can make my guitar sound like his fiddle, then I know I've got it right," Brown said.

Cady said Brown was quick-witted, "what some would call a 'codger."'

Brown started playing fiddle by age 5. At 10, he taught himself an odd guitar picking style he used all his life, dragging his long, bony fingers over the strings.

In his teens, Brown toured as a drummer with swing bands and was nicknamed "Gatemouth" for his deep voice. After a brief stint in the Army, he returned in 1945 to Texas, where he was inspired by blues guitarist T-Bone Walker.

Brown's career took off in 1947 when Walker became ill and had to leave the stage at a Houston nightclub. The club owner invited Brown to sing, but Brown grabbed Walker's guitar and thrilled the crowd by tearing through "Gatemouth Boogie" -- a song he claimed to have made up on the spot.

He made dozens of recordings in the 1940s and '50s, including many regional hits -- "Okie Dokie Stomp," "Boogie Rambler," and "Dirty Work at the Crossroads."

But he became frustrated by the limitations of the blues and began carving a new career by recording albums that featured jazz and country songs mixed in with the blues numbers.

"He is one of the most underrated guitarists, musicians and arrangers I've ever met, an absolute prodigy," said Colin Walters, who is working on Brown's biography. "He is truly one of the most gifted musicians out there.

"He never wanted to be called a bluesman, but I used to tell him that though he may not like the blues, he does the blues better than anyone," added Walters. "He inherited the legacy of great bluesmen like Muddy Waters and John Lee Hooker, but he took what they did and made it better."

Brown -- who performed in cowboy boots, cowboy hat and Western-style shirts -- lived in Nashville in the early 1960s, hosting an R&B television show and recording country singles.

In 1979, he and country guitarist Roy Clark recorded "Makin' Music," an album that included blues and country songs and a cover of the Billy Strayhorn-Duke Ellington classic "Take the A-Train."

Brown recorded with Eric Clapton, Ry Cooder, Bonnie Raitt and others, but he took a dim view of most musicians -- and blues guitarists in particular. He called B.B. King one-dimensional. He dismissed his famous Texas blues contemporaries Albert Collins and Johnny Copeland as clones of T-Bone Walker, whom many consider the father of modern Texas blues.

"All those guys always tried to sound like T-Bone," Brown said.

Survivors include three daughters and a son.

Copyright 2005 The Associated Press. All rights reserved.This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.

[LS]

Gatemouth was truly one of a kind...another crushing loss... Seems like nothing but BAD news anymore...
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Roots Music Icon Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown Dies
By Calvin Gilbert

Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown, an American music treasure, died Saturday (Sept. 10) in Orange, Texas, where he was staying with family members after leaving his home in Slidell, La., to escape Hurricane Katrina.

The 81-year-old musician was diagnosed with lung cancer last year but declined to undergo treatment. Brown was evacuated from Louisiana before the hurricane hit on Aug. 29. The storm reportedly flattened his house and flooded his car.

Although primarily known as a rhythm & blues artist, Brown's music truly defied any simple description. Influenced by big bands and horn players, his work on the guitar and fiddle exhibited the country, Cajun and Texas swing music he grew up hearing along the Gulf Coast.

Born April 18, 1924, in Vinton, La., Brown was raised in Orange, Texas. He began his career as a drummer, but began creating his reputation as a guitarist in 1947 at the Peacock Club in Houston when he sat in for headliner T-Bone Walker. The club's owner, Don Robey, soon signed Brown to his Peacock Records label. The Peacock recordings are considered classics, with Brown's guitar and vocal work set against a driving beat and sharp horn sections.

In the '60s, Brown began displaying more of his Texas and Louisiana influences, tossing in polkas and waltzes into his repertoire of blues and jazz. In the mid '60s, Brown was a frequent performer on the nationally syndicated R&B television program, The Beat. Taped in Texas, the program was hosted by Hoss Allen, a legendary DJ at radio station WLAC in Nashville. It was also during the '60s that Brown scored a minor hit with his cover version of "May the Bird of Paradise Fly Up Your Nose," a No. 1 country hit for Little Jimmy Dickens in 1965.

Brown lived in Nashville during the '70s and forged a strong friendship with country singer and musician Roy Clark. Brown continued to play blues on the road but made guest appearances on Hee Haw. He and Clark collaborated on the 1979 album, Makin' Music, featuring songs they'd written and cover tunes ranging from Billy Strayhorn's "Take the 'A' Train" to Harlan Howard's "Busted." His national media exposure also increased during five appearances on Austin City Limits.

During his career, Brown scored six Grammy nominations, winning the best traditional blues recording prize for his 1982 album, Alright Again. He won eight W.C. Handy Blues Awards and was inducted into the Blues Foundation Hall of Fame. He's also a recipient of the Rhythm & Blues Foundation's prestigious Pioneer Award.

In September 2004, Brown announced he had been diagnosed with cancer. After consulting oncologists at the M.D. Anderson Cancer Center in Houston, he decided against undergoing treatment. He also suffered from emphysema and heart disease. By the end of the year, Brown's condition had worsened considerably, forcing him to travel with an oxygen tank. On Jan. 8, he surprised many of his friends and associates by joining Gregg Allman and Susan Tedeschi at Atlanta's Variety Playhouse for not one, but two, shows.

In April, a defiant Brown announced that he would perform at the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival. Despite continued doubts that he had the stamina to even attend the outdoor festival, Brown managed to get through a brief musical set. Some close to Brown were convinced that he would have been happy to die as he lived -- performing on stage.

[snizz]

littlesister said:

Gatemouth was truly one of a kind...another crushing loss... Seems like nothing but BAD news anymore...

Damn, that is nothing but the truth all the way around.

Landreth Remembers Brown
Slide guitarist tells classic tales of "Gate"
DAVID FRICKE
Sep 15, 2005

Cajun slide guitarist Sonny Landreth was a close friend, collaborator and fan of Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown. A singer, guitarist and violinist who started making records in 1947, Brown became an American blues institution over the next five decades, issuing exciting jump-blues and country-swing singles like "Mary Is Fine," "Atomic Energy" and "Okie Dokie Stomp" and recording acclaimed albums with disciples like Landreth, Eric Clapton and Ry Cooder in the 1990s. Brown was diagnosed with lung cancer last year, but continued to record and tour until shortly before his death, in Orange, Texas, on September 10th. Landreth spoke fondly of his friend and hero to Rolling Stone a few days later.

Why did Gatemouth object so much to being called a blues musician, when he contributed so much to that music, as a player and innovator?

He felt it was limiting, compared to the big picture that he was all about. He had so many influences. He had this incredibly funky, indescribable rhythm when he played, especially in big-band arrangements. I'd get up close and watch him, for years. And I still can't figure out how he did what he did. His fingering style was totally unique. So was his sound.

He was born in western Louisiana and raised in east Texas. As a player and stylist, his influences and the many facets of his playing seemed as porous as the land.

He was a true American music hero. And he didn't get the acclaim that some of the other big-time guys got. He didn't have as much commercial success and recognition. But he was up there with any of the greats. When you grow up in that part of the country, you soak up all of those influences. Jazz, blues, R&B, country and swing -- he forged his own way through all of that. And the imprint he left touched a lot of players.

When did you first see Gatemouth play?

I was in my early twenties. I was working at Huey Meaux's studio in Houston, in 1972. The engineer was from England. He had met and worked with Gate on the road somewhere. He said, "Have you ever heard of Gatemouth Brown?" I said, I'd heard of him. He said, "We're going to see his gig tonight." The next thing I know, we're in the heaviest, hard-core part of town. We go into this funky little bar, and Gate is in the other room playing this incredible guitar. The band was sloppy -- he had some pickup guys backing him up -- but he blew my mind. I'd never heard anybody play like that.

Then he put the guitar down and picked up the fiddle. I said, "Wait a minute, guitar and fiddle?" I'd never heard fiddle playing like that before either. Then he took a break and I met him. We talked a little bit, although I think he totally forgot about that years later.

He was pretty severe in interviews, criticizing peers and fans like B.B. King and Eric Clapton. Was he really as crusty as that in person?

Gate would always tell you what was on his mind. He was not shy in the least. He felt that he never got his due. But he was also working that side of his personality. He could be real cantankerous, giving the producer hell in the studio or some of the guys in the band.

Then he'd lean over to me and chuckle. He'd have this look in his eye. I'd say, "C'mon, you don't really mean that." And he'd say, "Don't tell them."

It was a bit of both. There were other times when you knew he meant it. That was part of his fiery personality. And it came out in his playing as well.

What was it like recording with him? You played with him quite often, on records like Back to Bogalusa [2001].

One of my favorites was a J.J. Cale tune, "Cry Sister Cry," on A Long Way Home [1996]. People ask me if there's a session I've done that has really stood out? I always point to that one. For once, I liked what I did [laughs]. And it involved some of my favorite players. Jim Keltner was on drums. Amos Garrett played guitar. But it was an inspirational tune, and I loved the way Gate sang it. It was not something he would have typically done. But there were times when he would let the production side of things take over, and he would just step up and do his part, get inspired and deliver. He would often say, "Well, I don't know about this song." Then he would charge right into it.

Despite his illness, he continued to tour, until a couple of weeks before his death. Did that surprise you?

He decided he was not going to do treatment, that he was going to play until he dropped. Ironically, I think it was his heart that got him in the end. But I was so thankful that I had the chance to play with him before that. I did Mountain Stage with him in February. He was in bad shape then. They helped him walk out to his stool; he had his oxygen on. Then when I came out to sit in with him, he said something really nice about me: "Here's a young man who's played on a lot of my albums." I was still young to him [laughs]. And we launched into these tunes.

But here is the kicker . . . and this is classic Gate: At the end of the show, they do a finale featuring all of the guests that week, where everyone comes out to sing and play. So they picked a swing blues, and we did it in a key that all of the singers could do it in. Well, Gate didn't like that. After everyone finished, the announcer goes, "Goodnight, everybody," and everyone starts walking out. Gate goes, "Wait a minute! Everybody sit down! Now we're gonna play the song in E flat -- my way!" He threw everyone off that stage except his band -- and me. He turns and says, "Not you. You stay here."

It was classic. He got the last word in. What are you gonna say to Gatemouth Brown? And everybody loved it. When he finished, the ovation was twice as loud.