I
was sitting in the middle of the crowded club; grateful
we'd scored some seats because the place was packed. A
few frat boys were smokin' big stogies and grossing out
their dates right in front of us, but we politely ignored
them, bigger things on our minds. The band had been
oiling up the machinery for about fifteen minutes when
Otis Rush came out. He strapped on that sweet looking,
red Gibson 335 and the minute his fingers hit the strings…heaven.
His backup band that night was a little rough, but we
hardly noticed because Otis, all alone in a huge crowd,
commanded our attention. He didn't even have to speak;
the romance between his fingers and his guitar said it
all.
In the middle of this double-Dutch treat for the ears, I
noticed small cues between him and band members that said
things weren't going right. He gave quick instructions
before a couple of the numbers and even played the bass
line a few times to give the bass player hints, but
something was jamming up the works. The band got more
ragged as Otis's lips got thin and he struggled to
overcome his irritation. (The runaway downward train -- I
know it well!) Though the crowd didn't seem to notice, I
got antsy, as did my musician companions. The band's
sound was going downhill fast. Even the frat boys were
starting to notice when I saw Otis wave a man toward the
stage and announced a guest would sit in. A slight guy
quietly took the stage and threw the bass strap over his
shoulder. He didn't look too flash--faded right into the
backup band scenery. But when Otis counted off the tune,
the whole band seemed to click into place. The Volkswagen
had turned into a Cadillac. I don't think I could have
commissioned a better example of what a difference a good
rhythm section can make. I had a fabulous evening, well
aware that I was listening to something special and rare.
I doubt there's anybody better than Otis. I couldn't get
that bass player out of my mind.
I asked for his name and promptly forgot it in the rush
of activities that weekend. Time moved on and then
another night, another month, another state, another club
later, there he was again, quietly setting up his gear to
back up Alex Schultz and Tad Robinson. I've got a secret
weak spot for backup musicians who work hard, play great,
and remain unnoticed. Maybe like all the famous musicians
I've admired were once. And of course, like so many of us
who never "make it" but hold the basic fabric
of music together. I waited no longer.
His name is Harlan Terson, and he is just what he seemed:
a solid player who makes his living as a bass-man-at-large
in the highly competitive Chicago blues scene. Born there
in 1951, Terson got a guitar in 1963 and began learning
folk music from records and chord books when the Beatles
and Stones brought the blues to him. "I was this
long-haired teenager listening to 'Cream' do 'Howlin'
Wolf,' and I didn't even know what's in my own back yard!"
But Chicago favorites Paul Butterfield, Mike Bloomfield,
the Siegal-Schwall Band and others made their presence
known and before long Terson was making trips to "Alice's
Revisited" (now a dance club called "950")
to see Muddy Waters. "When I realized where all this
music was coming from, that's kind of when the jig was
up," Harlan laughs.
Terson played guitar for awhile in bands, but soon
realized there was a greater need for bass players. Once
he started, he realized he had a real penchant for it. He
earned a degree in music at the University of Illinois--Chicago
and went into music full time. A friendship with former
Muddy Waters' sideman Sonny Wimberly led to steady club
work. From the first Terson was skilled and
dependable, valued qualities in a player. He worked with
Mark Skyer (Canned Heat), did six years with Lonnie
Brooks' band, and freelanced everywhere--still does. His
reputation as a studio session man is equally broad after
recording with Tad Robinson, Lurrie Bell, Dave Specter,
Deitra Farr, Eddie Shaw, Lonnie Brooks (Brooks' album
"Blues Deluxe" was nominated for a Grammy),
Steve Freund, and many others. In traditional Chicago
style, Terson lives from gig to gig, but his abilities
keep him eating, and his love for the blues keeps him
happy. Any full-time player knows it's a tough business
that takes something special to sustain. Harlan's got it.
CATHI: So you really
hit the steady giggin' in the early '70's?
HARLAN: I started with
Sonny (Wimberly) in '75; went with Mark (Skyer) probably
in '75, because I started playing with Lonnie (Brooks) in
'76. It was a progression.
CATHI: What was the
Chicago scene like then?
HARLAN: Well, I have a
partner, Bob Levis (guitarist) who has played with me
since high School. We still play together a lot. We're
like a rhythm section that kept picking up front guys.
Each band was a little big higher of a level. Back then
there was a small club scene that young bands did and
then there was the blues scene that started to move up to
the North side. Not really many whites went down to the
south side back then. But up north the "Wise Fools"
club was a place we could play. I played there with
Lonnie.
CATHI: And you stayed
with Lonnie for six years? Now his son Ronnie has his own
thing too I see.
HARLAN: Yeah, six
years, several records, some Europe. It was a nice band,
really very family-like. When I was with Lonnie his sons
Ronnie and Wayne were just little kids. Now Ronnie teases
me every time he sees me because I used to kick him out
of the basement. The kids would drive us nuts.
CATHI: (Laughter) What
would they do?
HARLAN: Aw, they just
wanted to come down there -- they loved music! You can
see they're both successful musicians now. They just
wanted to come down, bop around, and dig it.
CATHI: That band had
to be a wealth of experience for you. What happened after
it?
HARLAN: Well Ken
Saydak, Steve Freund, and I put a band together. It was
called the "Blueprints" and that lasted maybe a
year or so.
CATHI: That was before
Steve's gig with Sunnyland Slim?
HARLAN: Well, Steve
held down that gig at B.L.U.E.S. -- and the Sunday Night
Blues even before it was with Sunnyland. He was with Big
Walter Horton and Floyd Jones -- he was there a long time!
CATHI: So then what (laughter)?
HARLAN: Well I played
in various bands at the "Kingston Mines," and
in a Motown Soul Band called "Rhythm City." And
this is where it gets terrible Cathi, I started gigging
around everywhere.
CATHI: Why is that
terrible Harlan?
HARLAN: Well, it's not
real inspiring.
CATHI: I don't know…speaking
as a well-traveled musician I gotta say, sticking it out
is pretty darned inspiring.
HARLAN: It takes a
certain amount of guts just to stay in the business. I
just wish I pursued a steady band--like Tad's (Robinson)
for instance. But that is the exception these days.
CATHI: Let me ask
about that. How do you maintain yourself?
HARLAN: I get on the
phone and hustle (laughs). I try to maintain steady
relationships with the bookers and I have to fight for my
position. It's ironic. It's a stressful life because it's
so uncertain, but it's easy (laughs). I mean, that's why
I do it -- it's one of those paradoxes. I do this better
than anything else. I could never see the point of having
a 9-5. I always thought that would just break me.
CATHI: Well, your
playing is really in the pocket, yet you don't do much
grand-standing. What's your basic playing philosophy?
HARLAN: Well, playing
gets in your blood. You've got to be reliable, show up,
make the front people look good, get out there and really
LISTEN.
CATHI: So do you want
to travel?
HARLAN: I think I'd
like to do more of that now. I need to find the balance
between travel and paying the bills. I don't have an
extravagant life, but I'm not mean with myself either (laughs).
So I do whatever it is I need to do to maintain this not-extravagant-but-okay-to-myself-lifestyle.
I have to get paid and sometimes sticking around here is
the easiest way to do that. But then I have more
visibility at festivals…so it's a balance.
CATHI: As a side-man
can you get an agent to help you book or do you have to
scuffle along on your own?
HARLAN: Scuffle! If
there is a way an agent can help a side-man I haven't
found it -- please let me know!
CATHI: (Laughs) If I
do -- I'll be doing it! What about recording? You have a
big discography.
HARLAN: About 20
records I guess.
CATHI: Do people call
you in just for studio work or is there a rehearsal
period?
HARLAN: If I'm lucky.
Maybe we'll rehearse a bit; it depends on the situation.
CATHI: Say I wanted to
hire you to do a record. What would be your general fee?
HARLAN: I would beg
and plead with you to drag every dime out of your pocket
I could.
CATHI: (Laughter) Okay.
HARLAN: And then we'd
meet in the middle somewhere. Measuring what you're worth
is a challenge for any artist, don't you think? Price
often depends on whether you've got a demo situation
going on or a full-blown record on a label.
CATHI: What's your
local choice for studio drummer?
HARLAN: Well I work
with Ken Smith -- Willie ("Big Eyes" ) Smith's
son. He's an excellent young drummer. He's got the
tradition and is a very nice young man.
CATHI: Tell me more
about Lonnie (Brooks).
HARLAN: Okay, what do
you want to know? Lonnie's like a father to me. I was in
my mid-20s and still getting experience when I worked
with him. I got recording and traveling experience in
that band, so yeah, that's a big marker in my life--with
Lonnie. Lots of seasoning and lessons.
CATHI: And you've
worked with Lurrie Bell? He's got that see-saw rickety
history like his dad (Carey Bell) in a way.
HARLAN: Yeah, I've
been on the last three things he's done--the last one
still in the can. He's an amazing talent. He's got some
demons…it's (playing with Lurrie) like catching
lightning in a bottle. But on his last album I got the
opportunity to write some songs!
CATHI: Great! Do such
things pay residuals?
HARLAN: I'll let you
know (laughter).
CATHI: So how'd you
hook up with Tad Robinson?
HARLAN: Through Steve
Freund. Tad's a beautiful guy. That's one of my favorite
situations. Great singer, very nice man, and the group he
puts together is very enjoyable to work with. I don't
work with them as often as I'd like, but I think we're
going to do more work behind his new record. I've been
working with Dave Spector a lot these last couple of
years. He gives me not only work opportunity, but
recording stuff.
CATHI: He's doing a
lot of producing?
HARLAN: Some. He's
done his own albums and Lurrie's. I hooked up with Tad
through him and a lot of Delmark work has come to me
through him.
CATHI: Deitra Farr
too?
HARLAN: I've known her
for a long time. We used to work at "Kingston Mines."
Typically with recording there'll be one or two
rehearsals -- both taped. Then we'll have some way to
work with the material. But you can't just go in to
record the blues. You got to make it a part of you first.
To really play a song well you have to feel it; hear it
in your head. It actually becomes a part of you. And then
once in awhile you gotta tackle something different to
keep proving something to yourself.
CATHI: How about the
Chicago scene today?…or the blues in general? Any
observations on that? Do you think it's all turning into
rock?
HARLAN: Well I would
say the scene now is more of a tourist thing than
anything artistic, but it does give bluesmen work. Blues
getting rock-y was just inevitable. We're no longer
living in a world that's regional and isolated. There's
too much media, too many people getting around, and
that's how culture travels and changes. Blues is no
longer something players pick up where they live. They
hear many more influences and musicians everywhere.
CATHI: What's it like
to work with Otis (Rush)?
HARLAN: It's a BIG
DEAL! Because he's OTIS RUSH!! What are you gonna say?
It's an honor for the guy to call you. I worked with him
for a couple of years, though I've know him for about 20.
I did a European tour with Otis. He's amazing.
CATHI: So now though
you continue your side-man duties, you also have a band?
HARLAN: A collective
of friends. We call ourselves the "Fabulous Fish
Heads." I try to function in as many different
situations as I can so that if one things goes down,
others are still moving.
CATHI: What kind of
gear do you use?
HARLAN: Several
different things. I have a lot of Peavey stuff. I use a
Mega Bass and an older Peavey head. I have a couple of
older Peavey amps -- four different rigs depending on how
much power I need. I'm pretty much into solid state amps.
The bass I use now is actually a mongrel--a Fender Jazz
Bass neck on a Precision Bass body. The vintage thing has
gotten so out of hand and I once had a ''66 Jazz bass
that got stolen.
CATHI: A heartbreak…man.
Do you use the big 15" speakers?
HARLAN: One. I have
different cabinets with 15's, but the one I use most now
is a Bag End cabinet I got from the area -- very portable
and small. I have to move this stuff you know -- I'm old
(laughs).
CATHI: (Laughs.) Me
too. So what would you tell someone who wanted to go into
blues these days?
HARLAN: Maybe I would
quote Bob Stoger (another GREAT bass-man-about-town in
Chicago--cn). I was in Europe with Dave Spector and Bob
was at the same festival. He's been very nice to me. I
was sort of crying to him. "Bob, I'd really like to
do more of this stuff. What should I do?" And he
said, "Play your ass off! Make people sound good!
Talk to people!"
CATHI: (Laughs) Good
for him!
HARLAN: So I say,
"Keep hanging around," I guess. Network; talk
to people. And a little patience never hurts a human
being in any endeavor. Nothing happens overnight. It's
like you wake up one day and see what your life is, and
it's not what you planned. I mean you can make action
plans and that's good, but mainly you just gotta do what
you gotta do for that day. That seems to work; doing the
next right thing. Sometimes it's a spiritual struggle. Am
I doing the right thing? But I really love this, and we
don't know how long we have. Not to do what seems to be
right for you to do is not right -- can't be good. I
don't know how long I have here and I've been lucky. I
admit sometimes it's worrisome, but I've been able to do
it.
CATHI: So would you
call yourself an optimist Harlan? (Laughter)
HARLAN: I usually tell
people I decided I'd be an optimist, but then I figured
it would never work.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
This interview © 1999 Cathi Norton. Used
by permission.All rights reserved.
Interview Page
|
