By Rosalind Cummings-Yeates
CAN'T SLOW DOWN
Bobby Rush
A
s we move deeper into this century,
we have lost more and more of our
blues legends to age and illness. But
at 83-years-old, Bobby Rush has outlasted
most of his generation of blues pioneers and
shows no sign of slowing down. Unless, you
consider that after 64 years of performing,
he’s down to playing 220 shows from his
usual 300. Last month, he released his 345th
recording, and 50th album, Porcupine Meat
(Rounder Records). Anyway you look at it,
Bobby Rush is a musical force.
“I’m so thankful for where I am, a lot of
people I came up with aren’t here,“ said
Bobby from his home in Jackson,
Mississippi. “Life is life. I’m so enthused
and I’m still learning. I’ve come so far, I was
a little country boy and I’m so blessed that
so many people seem to like me.”
So many people indeed. “The King of
The Chitlin Circuit,” travels around the
world to enthusiastic crowds who love his
brand of funky, raunchy, blues and his mega
watt showmanship. He’s racked up three
Grammy nominations, 10 Blues Foundation
Awards, induction into the Blues Hall of
Fame , the B.B. King Entertainer of The Year
Award, as well as a pivotal appearance in
Martin Scorsese's 2003 documentary film
series, The Blues.
Bobby Rush, born Emmett Ellis Jr, has
experienced a lot of blues industry highs
and lows since he left his hometown of
Homer, Louisiana in 1947. “We moved to
Pine Bluff, Arkansas so my father could pastor a church,” he recalls.“ There, he
befriended Elmore James and formed a
band. Teen-aged Bobby painted on a fake
18 illinoisentertainer.com decmber 2016
moustache so that the group could play
local juke joints. Bobby would also hang out
on Beale Street in Memphis, where he’d play
“for a few dollars.” “Elmore introduced me
to Rufus Thomas and he introduced me to
B.B. King. they both had a radio show.”
When his family members moved to
Chicago in 1951, Bobby went along. He
soon became friends with Muddy Waters.
Willie Dixon, Little Walter and Freddie King
as he played the West Side blues circuit,
honing his musical skills. “I came up during
a time when I’d work for a dollar a night
and then five dollars as a bandleader and
that was considered a lot,” he said. “We’d
play in all white establishments and you’d
have to play behind a curtain. They wanted
to hear our music but they didn’t want to
see our faces.” Despite the myth that these
kind of situations only happened in the
South, Bobby clarified that it happened in
Chicago and parts of Illinois. “There was a
club at Rush and Walton streets [in
Chicago], called The Bourbon Street and
they had a sign on the door, “No Colored
Allowed.” There were a lot of places like
that. That was in the ‘60s, not that long ago.
The more things change, the more they
remain the same. You can change a law but
you can’t change people’s hearts.”
Rush’s new CD, Porcupine Meat tackles
some of the issues connected with these sentiments and the