'The Country Blues', Samuel Charters, book cover

REWIND: ‘The Country Blues’ by Samuel Charters

By Ron Wynn

Welcome to REWIND, a monthly look back at some of the blues historical treasures. For those who might wonder about my qualifications for this, I’ve been involved in blues, jazz and other roots music journalism for 46 years.

One of the things I’m most proud of in regards to my career was being interviewed for Robert Gordon’s classic film on Muddy Waters, and being a recipient of a 2024 Keeping The Blues Alive Award. Hopefully, in the months ahead, my expertise and love for the music will display itself sufficiently within this column to at least render me a credible source, whether you agree or disagree with my observations and opinions.

Context and perspective are vital when evaluating projects from the past. That doesn’t excuse or justify everything, and some errors are so egregious even allowing for an era’s tendencies regarding language and customs can’t be used to forget or forgive them. When it comes to examining classic or vintage volumes in a contemporary framework, trying to be fair and accurate is often difficult. That’s my prelude to saying my views about the late Samuel Charters’ first book “The Country Blues” have evolved over the years, and definitely changed since reading it as a high school student just becoming immersed in blues and jazz. At the time (late ’60s) I thought it was a treasure chest of information, an extremely valuable resource, and my earliest exposure to now favorite musicians like Blind Willie Johnson and Tampa Red. In addition, there wasn’t much blues being played on Black radio stations, and even less attention being paid to the period that Charters spotlighted in “The Country Blues” (20s and 30s).

Today, after recently re-reading it for a fourth time, (the original version) the inherent problems that those who later savaged it cited are prominent and problematic. To his credit, Charters was a staunch anti-racist, and viewed his work as a writer, archivist, field researcher and music producer as a way to combat the stench of Jim Crow he witnessed first hand in the South during field trips, as well as fight what he considered the pervasiveness of it in American society. Charters was also appalled at the lack of recognition and exposure given these Blues musicians, and considered his work a chance to help remedy that. But the flaws in his methodology were considerable, even for 1959, and once other scholars and historians began taking the book apart, some questioned whether he’d done more harm than good despite the positive intentions.

That seems overly hostile and negative, a notion that demeans his motivation as well as minimizes his work. Charters would produce many valuable recordings in not only blues, but jazz., folk and international music. He would also write numerous other articles and books over the years, again many of them blues volumes, but others covering everything from poetry to Cuban and African music. Still the blues were always the foundation for Charters, and one of his later works was an anthology of blues writing, some of it including corrections to some of his earlier work.

A key aspect of Charters’ character is he didn’t want to adopt the perspective or approach of a detached journalist simply examining a subject. He always said he’d loved the blues since childhood, and would frequently cite Bessie Smith’s recording of “Nobody Knows You When You’re Down and Out,” which he heard as an eight-year-old, as the song that fueled his interest. He was also musically trained, having spent time in New Orleans, where he played clarinet, banjo and washboard in bands, and studied with the jazz clarinetist George Lewis while researching that city’s musical history. He earned a degree in economics from the University of California, Berkeley.

He had a long history of involvement in the Civil Rights Movement, as well as other social justice causes. Charters was especially angry about the Vietnam War and would eventually move to Sweden with his family, subsequently commuting between there and Conn. for much of his later life. Thus Charters was always far more of an advocate than a critic, and that is definitely a major theme throughout “The Country Blues.”

Perhaps most galling to those viewing “The Country Blues” through a 21st century lens is the often staggering degree of romanticism with which Charters approached these artists. Having grown up in the South, even as a youngster it seemed to me he was overdoing the effort to make these folks noble and heroic, warriors creating greatness in the midst of stifling oppression (even though on one level that was certainly true). Charters would later admit he may have gone overboard. He eventually said, “So “The Country Blues” was two things. It was a romanticization of certain aspects of Black life in an effort to force the white society to reconsider some of its racial attitudes, and on the other hand it was a cry for help. I wanted hundreds of people to go out and interview the surviving blues artists. I wanted people to record them and document their lives, their environment, and their music -not only so that their story would be preserved but also so they’d get a little money and recognition in their last years. So there was another kind of romanticism in the book. I was trying to make the journey to find the artists as glamorous as possible, by describing the roadsides, and the farms, and the shacks and the musicians themselves.”

The other area that riled some observers then and now is that Charters wasn’t the least bit hesitant to tout certain artists and blues styles over others. At times the purist sentiment crops up so much he dismisses a lot of the blues that WAS popular at the time. Among his more famous statements in that regard was this one, “I really got bored with all those damn guitar solos. To me, they all sounded like B.B. King, and what I really wanted to hear was great text ,” It’s safe to say he wasn’t a fan of blues-rock, or of the turn that the blues was taking even when “The Country Blues” was being released.

Still, casting it in its best light, “The Country Blues” was a significant and landmark work. Charters began with 19th century slave music as well as minstrel tunes and work songs, with the early hits of W.C. Handy and Mamie Smith cited as keystone moments. Then he delved into chapters about a variety of artists, among them Leroy Carr, Blind Willie McTell, Muddy Waters, Lightnin’ Hopkins, Big Bill Broonzy, etc. But in the first edition Charters acknowledged there would be errors, and his critics, most notably fellow blues scholar Paul Oliver, have expended considerable energy over the decades in picking them apart. The two volumes of Robert Johnson material that Columbia first issued in 1961 and 1970 alone corrected in the liner notes a host of mistakes that were in the book’s chapter on him.

Charters’ himself later wrote this when Da Capo reissued the book with a new introduction in 1975: ‘I shouldn’t have written “The Country Blues” when I did; since I really didn’t know enough, but I felt I couldn’t afford to wait. So “The Country Blues” was two things. It was a romanticization of certain aspects of Black life in an effort to force the white society to reconsider some of its racial attitudes, and on the other hand it was a cry for help. I wanted hundreds of people to go out and interview the surviving blues artists. I wanted people to record them and document their lives, their environment, and their music, not only so that their story would be preserved but also so they’d get a little money and a little recognition in their last years. ”

So why then revisit “The Country Blues” one might ask, and why did the Blues Foundation induct it not once but twice into its Hall of Fame? (1991 and 2000), Because despite the flaws, errors and problems, Charters’ work was groundbreaking, and stimulated fresh interest in the music. It’s been cited as an inspiration by many authors who subsequently did more thorough and comprehensive work later in the same area. It’s one of those volumes that’s a good ground zero for anyone to get a start at blues research, as well as to learn what pitfalls and traps to avoid in terms of characterization, language, etc. The book’s initial impact was augmented by the release of the companion LP “The Country Blues.” Still in print, the album remains a vital sampler of the genre, with selections from such artists as Robert Johnson, Sleepy John Estes, Blind Willie McTell and Bukka White. The 14 selections spotlight a host of artists who at the time were less than obscure. Bob Dylan would include a version of White’s “Fixin To Die” on his 1961 debut LP, and there’s little doubt this album inspired other rockers to do covers of vintage blues numbers.

Also, when reading Charters’ interviews with artists, it’s clear that he sees himself as their champion. He’s seeking fresh exposure for great performers who were living in undeserved obscurity and in many cases sub-par conditions. Some have questioned whether Charters maintained the necessary distance from his subjects to objectively and accurately evaluate them, a fair question if this had been either a strictly biographical work or an examination of technical prowess and musical influence and impact.

But “The Country Blues” was neither of those in the strictest sense, despite at times having elements of both. Rather it was intended to be a motivational force, and in that regards it accomplished its mission. “The Country Blues” stimulated a wave of blues research and scholarship, some of which unfortunately later saw some involved in it turn on Charters when citing his various prior mistakes. Still Charters, who died in 2015, in my view did far more good than damage with “The Country Blues.” If nothing else, he proved there was both interest and a potential market for the music decades after many of its legends had passed. While far from perfect, it’s still well worth reading in 2025, reservations about accuracy and tone notwithstanding.

II – Favorite Samuel Charters recordings

Samuel Charters wrote many other books, and also produced numerous recordings from the 50s until his death. These 10 are personal favorites

1. “Lightnin’ Hopkins” (Folkways, 1959)
2. Joseph Lamb -” A Study in Classic Ragtime” (Folkways, 1959)
3. “Furry Lewis” (Folkways, 1960)
4. J.D. Short/Son House – “The Blues of The Mississippi Delta” (Folkways, 1962)
5. “The Holy Modal Rounders” (Prestige, 1964)
6. Terry Callier – “The New Folk Sound of Terry Callier” (Prestige, 1965)
7. Junior Wells – “Coming At You” (Vanguard, 1968)
8. Rockin’ Dopsie and the Cajun Twisters – “Doing the Zydeco” (Sonet, 1976)
9. Clifton Chenier and His Red Hot Louisiana Band – “I’m Here” (Sonet, 1982(
10. Bebo Valdes – “Recuerdos de Habana” (Gazell, 1998)

Anthology
Various Artists – “Chicago: The Blues Today, Vols 1-3” (Vanguard, 1965)

Country Blues by Samuel Charters here