I’ve already mentioned that Robert W. Harwood recently published a fascinating and entertaining book, I Went Down To St. James Infirmary, choc full of new discoveries and fresh insights about the song that this blog is (mostly) about. I’m pleased today to begin a Q&A series with Mr. Harwood about that book. I had lots of question and thoughts about it, of course, but decided that rather than overhwhelm you with one humongous interview, I’d spread thigns out, and go one question at a time, in a way that works for my schedule and Mr. Harwood’s. I think it’ll be more fun and surprising this way — not to mention more open-ended. So we’ll see where it goes!
It starts here, with a question about “Dyin’ Crapshooter’s Blues,” a tune many people (like me) had thought was Blind Willie McTell’s unique reinvention of “SJI.”
Q: One of your many original discoveries is that “Dyin’ Crapshooter’s Blues” is not, as I among many others had assumed, Blind Willie McTell’s re-invention of SJI. Turns out the way he sings that song is almost identical to the way Porter Grainger wrote it years earlier. How did you make that particular discovery?
A: It was a real shock to me when I found out about the earlier versions of Crapshooters’ Blues, Rob, but in retrospect it’s surprising that this is not generally known. I assume part of the reason is that McTell was very convincing when he said to John Lomax on a 1940 recording, “This is a song that I wrote myself . . .” and then in a 1956 recording, to Ed Rhodes, “I started writing this song in twenty-nine, tho’ I didn’t finish it — I didn’t finish it until 1932 . . .” In other words, there is no reason to look for a song’s composer if we know who the composer is.
The first book that I wrote about “St. James Infirmary,” A Rake’s Progress, made the assumption that McTell was completely responsible for “Dyin’ Crapshooter’s Blues.” In fact, the entire history of “St. James Infirmary” as we know it is rife with incorrect assumptions. In the first months after I had finished A Rake’s Progress I discovered that much of what I had written was incorrect. That book followed the well-trodden path, but as I looked more closely at the “facts,” the tale started to unravel. Realizing that one can accept nothing on assumption, I started to reinvestigate the history of the song and rewrite the book. In part, I Went Down to St. James Infirmary is an attempt to correct the record — to place the song in a more accurate historical context.
And so, in this second phase of research, nothing was taken for granted. If I read, for instance, that Irving Mills was born on such-and-such a date, I checked the census records. Regarding the origins of “Dyin’ Crapshooter’s Blues” the information has been fairly easily available since the mid-nineties. In 1990 the Document record label was created by Johann Ferdinand Parth, with the notion of reproducing the complete recorded output of blues and gospel singers from the late 19th century to the early 1940s. This was an immense project to be sure, but by 1995 two of the CDs Document released contained versions of “Dyin’ Crapshooter’s Blues” that had been recorded in 1927. This was two years before McTell claimed he started writing the song, thirteen years before he first recorded it.
These artists remain pretty obscure even today, though, and are unlikely to enter the collections of people interested in the likes of McTell, Charlie Patton, Blind Lemon Jefferson and so on. Some listeners might even consider them to be jazz songs. I think the jazz folk and the blues folk don’t cross into each other’s territory that often — which is odd, seeing as it was all mixed together in a bubbling gumbo at the beginning of time, in the 1920s.
Anyway, I actually found one or two of these old recordings on the jazz site www.redhotjazz.com. In the process of checking all my “facts,” I entered “Dyin’ Crapshooter’s Blues” in their search box and was given a list of artists to search including Ma Rainey, Lucille Bogan, Ida Cox and a host of others who never recorded the song. But eventually it turned up, as did the name of the original composer. As you know, Rob, Porter Grainger is an interesting character. He’s one of those people who have almost been rejected by history, but about whom small scraps of information can still be found. But there’s very little out there. I think the bit I wrote about him in I Went Down to St. James Infirmary triples what was previously known about Grainger.
When I learned about the authorship of “Crapshooter’s Blues” I was excited, of course. But I was simultaneously dismayed. By all reports, McTell was an honest, bright, and well-intentioned man. He did not, however, write that song, and yet he was adamant that he did. This symbolically underscores the relationship we have with everything of potentially commercial value. If something — be it an object, an idea, or a song — can be “owned,” it can be sold. The incessant flogging of songs, particularly when the song grew of its own accord, emerging out of the earth, seems wrong. If enough people can be made interested in something, it’s worth selling. Often it’s worth stealing. And that leaves me wondering if that’s just the way we are, or have we somehow lost our way?
Get your own copy of I Went Down To St. James Infirmary right here. Mr. Harwood’s blog is here.
A couple of years ago I did some research into the song "St. James Infirmary," wrote up what I found, emailed that essay to friends and posted it on my web site (as part of a series of "Letters From New Orleans," as I was living in that city at the time). Based on the feedback, I wrote a second version of the essay, and asked for more feedback. Based on that, I wrote a 
funny… last night I had time record in my little makeshift studio… and for some reason this traditional song was on the top of my list…
I’m going to post it on myspace…. if they ever fix their player it’ll be a free download.
Dave
[...] [Part 1 is here.] [...]
Fascinating stuff. Looking forward to the continuing interview.
This symbolically underscores the relationship we have with everything of potentially commercial value. If something — be it an object, an idea, or a song — can be “owned,” it can be sold.
And of course this brings to mind the neverending controversy over whether Bob Dylan’s appropriation of material from earlier songs, books, poems written by other people is and act of theft… or love.
regards,
Fred
“When I learned about the authorship of “Crapshooter’s Blues” I was excited, of course. But I was simultaneously dismayed. By all reports, McTell was an honest, bright, and well-intentioned man. He did not, however, write that song, and yet he was adamant that he did.”
You could reasonably argue that through the folk process he made it his own song. A song never comes from nothing, especially back then.
I remember reading anecdotes about McTell claiming to be Blind Willie Johnson to interviewers (Lomax maybe?), so he was definitely quite a hustler. His version of the song is definitely one of the best interpretations, to me it isn’t diminished by the fact he didn’t write it.
As for Dylan (and McTell), I’d say he’s just contributing to the Folk process. It’s an old tradition, while the idea of copyright is an invention of the last few centuries.
It would be interesting if there was some way to cut through the red tape of copyright and leave credits to preexisting recordings on new records. Something like the Creative Commons “Attribution By” system.
Of course sometimes songwriters can’t name their sources, but they weigh heavy just the same. In any case, the commodification of music shouldn’t place limits on songwriting, experimentation and reinvention.
what about the white stripes version of “st. james infirmary”?
it has verses that i don’t hear in any other version.
here’s a link:
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=ArS_et9gX-0
bottle tops: Use the search feature on this site to read several posts that deal with the White Stripes. This is the main one:
http://nonotes.wordpress.com/2007/07/12/263/
You might also read the essay linked in the right hand column, under the Gambit Weekly cover, for an overview of many versions. Or just poke around this site, the versions have been tweaked many times in many ways. That’s kind of a running theme here.
[...] researchers seem to be on good terms, as Walker recently featured on his blog a two-part interview (here and here) with [...]
[...] interview with Robert W. Harwood about his book I Went Down To St. James Infirmary. Part 1 is here, and Part 2 is here, and Part 3 is [...]
[...] interview with Robert W. Harwood about his book I Went Down To St. James Infirmary. Part 1 is here, Part 2 is here, Part 3 is here, and Part 4 is here. This may or may not be the last installment [...]
[...] “Dyin Crapshooter’s Blues,” recall that friend of no notes Robert W. Harwood has shown that McTell borrowed that tune from somebody [...]