Blind Lemon Jefferson: A Texas Tradition

I like the fact that, for the most part, the background of early 20^th century blues players are greatly undefined. It’s frustrating, certainly, but the fact that no one knows or can guess when or where folks were born, played, died or lay at rest is eerily appropriate. Ghostly might be a stretch, but the legacy of all of these folks is tied to the lack of documentation.

Blind Lemon Jefferson may have been born in 1893. Then again, it may also have been 1894. We’ll never know. Contradictory census information as well as military registration conflicts with various eye witness reports and stories. But a year’s a year, so it’s not a big deal. Oddly, though, no one can be certain as to where exactly Jefferson is buried.

Living in Chicago, in order to record for some major labels – Okeh as well as Paramount - there are disparate accounts as to how Jefferson died as well: freezing, heart attack, mugging. Whatever the case, though, his body, accompanied by Will Ezell (a pianist under contract to Paramount Records), Jefferson and his casket were sent back to Texas. The guitarist’s grave, however, wasn’t marked. And only during the ‘60s was there a proper tombstone erected, although the place that it marks is just an approximation. The cemetery has subsequently been renamed the Blind Lemon Memorial Cemetery, but that still doesn’t answer the question of where he is.

Despite all of this lost history, that wouldn’t even affect Jefferson’s recorded output, the music that he created has consistently remained in the public vernacular in one way or another.

Most recently, the Samuel L. Jackson film Black Snake Moan in which the bucolic character chains up a white girl makes use of Jefferson’s song title for the name of the flick. The fact was most probably lost on a great majority of the movie going public, but it showed that Jefferson was still a vital character.

Before that and perhaps the most enduring reference to Jefferson’s work, Bob Dylan, on his 1961 debut album, covered “See That My Grave is Kept Clean.” For some it must have been the first time that Jefferson was introduced to them. Of course, by the time of the ‘60s folk and blues revival, Jefferson was long gone, but Dylan’s fandom served to create cultural relevance for a song that was around thirty years old at the time. It’s not forgotten today even as Dylan tours the country as a croaking old tyme cowboy.

His catalog and the classics that it includes ensure Jefferson’s future relevance. Counting not just “Black Snake Moan” and “See that My Grave is Kept Clean” in his song book, recordings like “Corrina Blues,” “I Want to Be Like Jesus in the Heart” and “Jack o’ Diamond Blues” assure that future generations will be able to hear new bands work up renditions of the classics. Jefferson’s music has seen re-imaginations in folk, rock, garage and virtually every other genre one can think of and it won’t end soon – at least hopefully not.