Robert Johnson, The Devil, And The Crossroad
Writing history through music
One night, in late 1930, a young man with a tremendous desire to become a great blues musician walked down a dirt road near Dockery Farms, a cotton plantation between Ruleville and Cleveland. He carried an old, beat-up guitar strapped to his back.
He reached the crossroad, and as the clock chimed midnight a large black man appeared: he took the guitar, tuned it, and taught the young man some wicked guitar skills and a never-heard-before technique. The young man, once an embarrassingly bad guitarist, suddenly became a blues wizard, who could make the guitar sound almost like a piano… a piano with three hands playing it.
Of course, the nameless man’s offerings did not come for free: he asked the budding musician for a little something in return — a small thing, something he doesn’t really need.
His everlasting soul.
Robert who?
That’s not quite what happened, of course, but every legendary figure needs some lore.
And Robert Johnson (May 8, 1911 — August 16, 1938) sure is legendary, even though his impact on the history of music would not be acknowledged until the early 1960s and he gained little fame or commercial success during his lifetime.
Considering just how deeply his style…
