“Farther on Up the Road” is a classic Bobby “Blue” Bland song, but this song was initially recorded before his tenor voice gave way to that distinctive growl or “squall,” as he called it. The “Blue” in his name was as appropriate as the Bland was not. In either case, the great blues man has joined the ages. According to his son, Rodd, the drummer in his band, Bland died Sunday at his home in Germantown, Tenn., a suburb of Memphis, Tenn. He was 83.
For those of you who have never heard of him or haven’t heard him in a long time, take a few moments, if you can, to get on YouTube and catch a video of him during one of his performances with B.B. King in which they reprise a number of Bland’s hits. The duo was never more compatible and compelling.
Even if Bland never achieved the acclaim of King, Ray Charles and other blues immortals, he was still a versatile performer with an equally engaging voice that was comfortable in nearly every vocal format. He could croon a jazz tune, wail a gospel hymn and nail a pop song, but it was his innate feeling for the blues, especially when it called for a brokenhearted, begging interpretation, that earned his lasting fame. Only James Brown could out-plead him.
Though he was a country boy at heart and soul, it was in the major urban centers where Bland gathered perhaps his most loyal flock of fans, and during these revues, he was often paired with Little Milton and Junior Parker. Hardly a summer went by in Detroit in the ‘50s and ‘60s without a poster posted somewhere advertising his appearance.
At a time when his popularity was fading and his touring was limited, Bland got a boost when Jay-Z sampled his 1974 single “Ain’t No Love in the Heart of the City.” If you don’t have “The Blueprint” handy, you can also check this out on the Internet.
Bland leaves behind hundreds of tunes that can be sampled, which would only be another way of passing his music along, because stylistically, he shaped his sound from listening to the Rev. C.L. Franklin, Aretha’s father.
Find one of the Rev. Franklin’s sermons, and you will hear that squall Bland cited as his trademark sound. Of course, this was a gimmick, but Bland had an overall ability to marshal the basic components of the blues, that down-home quality he first heard while coming of age near the precincts of Memphis.
Bland was born Robert Calvin Brooks on Jan. 27, 1930, in Millington, Tenn. After his father abandoned the family, his mother, Mary Lee, married Leroy Bridgeforth, who also went by the name of Leroy Bland.
At the age of 6, Bland had his fill of school and began picking cotton. By the time he was a teenager, he was living in Memphis and laboring at all sorts of odd jobs, including working in a garage. But no matter where he worked, he was always singing, and he soon became a member of a spiritual group called the Miniatures. In 1949, he joined the Beale Streeters that, at one time or another, had such luminaries as the ill-fated Johnny Ace and King.
In 1952, he was drafted into the Army, and afterward, he reunited with his blues buddies, none more instrumental than blues singer Junior Parker, for whom he was often an opening act.
He became a headliner in the ‘60s, averaging more than 300 shows a year. It was a challenging experience, and the nightclubs and bars where he pe rformed made it easy for him to find relief in alcohol. Even so, he eventually overcame his addiction to alcohol and resumed performing and recording some of his most memorable tunes, such as “Turn on Your Love Light,” “That’s the Way Love Is” and “Ain’t Nothing You Can Do.”
With or without his signature squall, Bobby Blue Bland was the essence of the blues, and ain’t nothing you can do about that.