Tampa Blues History – The Artists

Previously, we explored the History of Blues in Tampa.  Now take a look at the historic Artists of Tampa.

Sure, we know about the history of blues in Tampa.  We know about Central Avenue, The Scrub, some of the old local businesses, and more.  In this installment, we will talk about the history of Tampa – only focused on the artists.  Below are three artists that not only have ties to Tampa, they helped define its musical history and ties to the blues on a nationwide and worldwide scale.

Rock Bottom

Rock Bottom

In Rock Bottom’s case it began as David Clark York on May 6, 1948; one of three children born to Ruth and Ernest Clark “Duke” York in Indiana’s poorest county. His grandfather Gus served in Tampa with Teddy Roosevelt’s Rough Riders during the Spanish American War.

The family moved numerous times between Brookville, Ind., and Bradenton until 1965, when David came to Florida for good, to live with sister Sylvia in Tampa. Another sister, Sandra, diagnosed with Down syndrome, died at age 56 in 1990.

The transformation of David to Rock occurred after graduation from Chamberlain High School in 1966, when he heard music by Sonny Boy Williamson and Paul Butterfield and began hanging out with members of the fledgling Allman Brothers Band. He spent much of the late ’60s soaking up music in the all-black “juke joints” of the rural Gulf Coast. His later songs told of fights, days in the Manatee County jail and nights hiding from the cops in the swamp.

York tried survival as a retail merchant, working at Kmarts and Kresges. His mother wanted her son to be a preacher. Instead, he formed a musical band called Swamp Gas, stolen from Canned Heat’s original name.

“We didn’t know how to play at all, but Rock somehow got us a gig. … He had cut lips at the time from learning the harp and the guy teaching me the bass stood in the audience pointing which direction to put my fingers,” said Sarasota bassist Michael Downe, later known as Rev. Boneshaker. “When we gave the drummer a solo, he just put his head down on the snare and cried. We got booed out of there by 2,700 surfers.”

Undaunted, York never looked back, kept plodding straight ahead — a lifetime trademark that both created irritation and endearment among friends and foes. “He was a thick-headed, bull-headed, stubborn, big brother Santa Claus,” says Boneshaker. “We’d throw each other in front of a train for each other. We would fight, kick ass and get back together.

“You got to understand, a part of me no one knows about died with him. There are too many stories. We used to ride around for hours making weird noises with our lips. We had hitchhikers beg us to let them go in the middle of nowhere. It would take half a lifetime to really tell you what this man was all about.”

In the early ’70s, David York went away for good, replaced by Rock Bottom, harp player for the eclectic Nick Danger and the Heat. “We would break stages. We would do it on purpose,” says Boneshaker, the bass player for that band. “We would play the B sides of everything. We did shows in dinosaur suits. We did a prisoner set.

“We dressed Rock all in black, painted his beard white and had him jump out of a big black casket playin’ the harp. You won’t see that today.”

In the late ’70s, Rock partnered with boogie-woogie pianist St. Petey Twigs (Kent Smith) and torch singer/washboard player Flo Mingo (Angela Altieri) as the Silver King band. Until the band broke up in 1985, Silver King soared through the downtown St. Petersburg music scene and began touring Europe offering original, social commentary-laced, boogie music with fun and attitude.

The band gained national prominence in 1983, on a live broadcast in Norway, when they dedicated their “My Balls Are Blue From Loving You” to Nancy Reagan, described as “our favorite groupie.” The U.S. Ambassador to Norway had to issue a formal apology. “Our rates went way up,” said Rock. “It was good business.”

Years later, Rock’s song about drinking — “Fucked Up” — was banned in Georgia and brought police action against him during live shows. Club owners had to pay the fines and Rock’s fame broadened.

The last 16 years of his life, Rock Bottom was a veritable Lord Blue of Tampa Bay. He groomed, equipped, hired (and fired) dozens of musicians and relentlessly pursued venues and jobs for friends from near and far. His support was critical to WMNF, Skipper’s and the Suncoast Blues Society in their early days. He took care of the legendary Diamond Teeth Mary, expanding her fame worldwide during the last 10 years of her life. Each summer he returned to Scandinavia; today, there are Rock Bottom harmoniac “copy cats” everywhere, using his exact gear, amps and microphones, swinging their arms like the master.

The anecdotes rain down like showers from the blues thundergods. Singer Rosy Cockburn covered in men’s underwear after Rock’s request on live radio. Firing drummer “Jungle” Denny McCarthy and leaving him miles from nowhere in the Norway outback. Asking an entire tent full of people, north of the Arctic Circle, to walk outside and urinate to moisten the dry earth so the sound system could ground. “I called him “Putty Butt’ once and he fired me right on stage. Then drove me to the airport,” said lusty singer Rosy.

Rock and friendly competitor T.C. Carr met in 1974 at a local music store, looking for the same Supro amp. T.C. got there first: “That was the only time I ever beat him at anything. And now he’s beat me to the grave.”

In 1992, heart trouble led Rock into triple bypass surgery. He married longtime girlfriend, Maureen, and seemed to settle down in their little bungalow on the infamous 17th Street described in many of his tunes. He read Robert Heinlein and Jack Vance science-fiction and began fashioning mixed-media clay and bottle cap “blues scene” artworks. He continued to tour Europe where he was treated — and paid — like a star. He appeared occasionally as Woodlawn Fats, who played only “sleazy bars for low pay” and single-handedly transformed rustic Nick’s Seabreeze Lounge on Sunset Beach into a true blues joint.

In early September, Rock took his last European tour — 22 days all over England, Germany and Norway. He planned to return to Finland at the end of this month. Sister Sylvia saw him in St. Petersburg on Tuesday. “I told Rock, “You look tired.’ He glared at me with that Rock Bottom look and said, “Of course I’m tired. I just got back from Europe.’” Wednesday he was at Ringside Cafe to watch his protege, Kim Harpo and the Accelerators.

Rock passed his annual stress test Thursday. After the Mojo’s show that night, Rock steered his old van full of equipment back home. Just like he and Rev. Bone had done hundreds of times before.

“He got some kind of real sharp pain in his back and started to rub his shoulder. He started erratic driving. I said, “Man, you want to go to the hospital?’ But he said he said he would be OK,” said Boneshaker. “I stood between him and the house and asked him again “You want me to drive you to the hospital?’

“He gave me that Rock Bottom look and said, “I’m the one who will decide whether I go or not. Leave the stuff in the van. I’ll see you Sunday.’ So I left. We’d been through this before. You could not make the man do something he did not want to do.”

Maureen found him, cold, on the couch Friday morning. There was no autopsy. He was cremated. Cause of death: “It’s called “it was his time to go,’” said Book Binder. “Maybe it was his time to go three or four years before, but he held on until he was sure Maureen’s disability was in. …”

Rock was the man.  He was well respected, and he was the blues in the 80′s and 90′s.

Tampa Red

Tampa Red

The thing most people don’t realize is Chicago was a blues capital long before the arrival of Muddy Waters.  The man who was at the center of it all was Tampa Red.  Tampa Red was born Hudson Woodbridge in Smithville, GA.  Both his parents died when he was young in some kind of accident.  He moved to Tampa where is aunt and Grandmother raised him.  He adopted their surname Whittaker.

Hudson’s older brother, also living in the Tampa area, introduced Hudson to the thriving night life in Tampa, primarily on Central Avenue.  Eddie even showed Hudson a few guitar licks.  This was enough to hook young Hudson, who eventually took to following a local musician around for inspiration.   This local artist, Piccolo Pete, ended up teaching Hudson a few more licks on the guitar.  The rest, as they say, is history.  In the 1920s, Hudson would move to Chicago.  Having red hair, light skin, and being from Tampa, he was known as Tampa Red.  Later he would be known as one of the founders of Hokum, a bawdy and humorous style of blues made popular with performers like Ma Rainey.  All of this is interesting, but it gets better.

What most blues fans don’t realize about Tampa Red is that he was literally the center of the blues scene in Chicago.  Long after Tampa Red himself stopped having hits, the scene in Chicago revolved around Tampa Red.  He was the man.  He had an apartment over a pawnshop at 35th and State.  It was once described by Willie Dixon as “a madhouse [of] old-time musicians.”  Tampa’s wife would often work the kitchen, making sure there was enough food going around for all the guests.  Rumor has it that one night Arthur Crudup showed up at Tampa’s door looking for some song writing help.  Tampa took Arthur into his living room, where he introduced him to Lonnie Johnson, Memphis Slim, “St. Louis Jimmy” Odum, Big Maceo, Lil Green, Memphis Minnie, and Washboard Sam.  As the story goes, they were all lounging around Tampa’s living room at the time.  This story, which came directly from Crudup, is most likely exaggerated – but still, you get the idea.  He was at the epicenter of it all.

Another person that was supposedly there the night Crudup showed up was Lester Melrose.  According to Dixon, he was always there.  Lester Melrose was not only responsible  for the “Bluebird beat” – he also played a large role in the development of early Chicago blues.  The fact that Tampa Red was the anchor if his label in a way turned Tampa Red into a talent scout.  Of course, amongst the circle of musicians, Lester Melrose was nothing more than a middle man.  The word on the street was quite clear – if  you want to work in CHicago as a musician, Tampa Red was the man to see.  In some estimates, Tampa Red handled over 80% of the bookings for blues (and similar music) musicians in Chicago during the 30′s.

Eventually Tampa Red would cross paths with Big Bill Broonzy.  Eventually, through Tampa Red and other musicians, Broonzy would overtake Tampa Red’s popularity.  However, there is no doubt that Tampa Red had not only a hand, but a whole fist in getting the Chicago blues scene off the ground.  He was indeed the man.

Tampa Red would fade into somewhat obscurity, but eventually playing electric guitar and still recording.  After his wife’s death in 1953, Tampa Red would give in to alcoholism.  He died due to complications from alcoholism destitute and alone in Chicago in March of 1981.  He was 77 years old.  He was a legend. He was Chicago.  He was Tampa.

Charlie Brantley and the Honey Dippers

Charlie Brantley

If ever there was a legendary band to put Tampa on the map, the tile has to go to Charlie Brantley and his Original Honey Dippers.  Brantley, one of 5 children, was born and raised in West Tampa during the turn of the 20th century.  At the age of 13, Brantley got his first job as a broom-maker.  In his spare time, he turned to music, learning through a correspondence course.  His career as a musician would start in 1935, as a member of the Florida Collegians, a group of various Tampa musicians.  In 1944, at the ripe age of 40, he created his own R & B group, billed as Charlie Brantley and his Original Honey Dippers.

He got the name from Joe Liggins group, Joe Liggins and the Honey Drippers.  Brantley just changed Drippers to Dippers.  He just simply removed the “r”, though various posters and flyers would often include the “r” in the spelling, often leading to confusion about the name an history of this band.  So who did old Charlie look to musically?  Louis Jordan.  In fact, it is rumored that Brantley could sing and perform so well in Jordan’s style that he could of filled in for him, and no one would have known the difference.   Therefore, it is no surprise that in 1940 in Tampa there were very few musicians who could measure up to Brantley as a fellow musician and a band leader.

The effect him and his band had on young musicans in the area is simply unmeasurable.  Brantley was talented, yes, but he was also kind.  He liked to give young musicians the opportunity to break into the scene through his band.  Often he and his wife Beulah would let musicians stay at there home on 1901 Cherry Street.  One of these musicians was a young blind boy named Ray Charles, who came to Tampa from Orlando in the fall of 1946.

Throughout the latter half of the 40′s, Charlie Brantley and the Honey Dippers were the most sought after R & B group in the state, and throughout the south.  No matter the obstacles before them, the band never failed to show up at a scheduled gig. Even then, Brantley found time to start the Negro Musical Association.  However, fate had a different plan for old Charlie.

In June of 1949, due to a severe heart and nerve condition, Brantley had to lay his Saxophone down and quit playing with the popular band he founded.  However, he still traveled with them and handled all the booking.  Brantley was not only a master of the sax, but also of every other major instrument of his day.  He was literally that good.

Then, in the mid 1950′s, it all came to an end, as the big band/R & B days fell victim to Rock and Roll.  Some members of the Honey Dippers went on to form the Tampa Skyliners, but that is a tale for another time.  Jimmy “Whiskey” Sheffield and Bill Peoples went on to join Ray Charles band.  Lawrence Burdine and Barney Louis joined BB King’s band.  Brantley never returned to music, and instead turned to Gd, becoming a deacon in the Mt. Calvary Seventh Day Adventist Church.  On Christmas Day in 1964, Brantley slipped away.  His wife actually remained at the 1901 Cherry Street house until 1998.

Some of the alumni that played with Brantley include Hank Marr, Nolbe “Thinman” Watts, Guitar Shorty, Ray Charles, and more.  So who were these guys?  Well, here is a list of the “main ingredients” to the band:

Jimmy “Whiskey” Sheffield – Vocalist/Bass Viloinist
Frank Shellman – Trumpet
Barney Hubert – Alto Saxophone
John Burdine – Tenor Saxophone
Lawrence Burdine
Hank Marr – Piano
Nathaniel Butler – Vocals/Drums
Johnny Marshall – Drums (replaced Butler)

Other Confirmed Members:

Noble Watts – Tenor Saxophone
Art Harris
Lamont
Pepper
Bobby Felder – Trombone
Michael Rodriques
Joe Elder – Tenor Saxophone
Barney Louis – Alto Saxophone
Andy Martin – Tenor/Arranger
Freddy Thompson – Horns
Sam “Ice Cream” Jones – Trumpet
Bill Peoples – Drums

He is often forgotten amongst the great scholars, but his impact cannot be ignored.

Of course, there are many other artists who helped shape Tampa as a cultural center.  For instance, Ray Charles, Sarasota Slim, Guitar Shorty, and many many others.  However, the three above were more than an influence – they were icons who put Tampa on the map for its music and culture.  All of them are dearly missed, but forever remembered.

Rock on!