King of the Delta Punk Singers

"Who was the first Punk?" asked a reader of Slash Magazine, around 1978.

The columnist responded (I'm paraphrasing here), "I could probably say it was Plato and justify myself, but I'd have to say it was Robert Johnson." And from there he made his case--the rest of which I can't recall.

I was maybe 16 when I read that, and I was intrigued. Blues? Ordinarily you couldn't have paid me to listen to Blues--but now I had it on the authority of Slash that some now-dead black guy was playing Punk in 1936. So I special ordered King of the Delta Blues Singers from Rolling Stone Records.

Rolling Stone Records, incidentally, was a store formerly in Phoenix that played an embarrassingly significant role in my life as a teenager. I went there whenever I was bored or lonely, and just hung out and made the store clerks even less productive (if that were possible). I was still too young to get into clubs when Punk began spreading around the world in 1977. I wanted to see live music more than just about anything. (About half as much as I wanted to have sex. Ever. Please, God.) Instead I had to satisfy myself, so to speak, with buying records and magazines at Rolling Stone.

The record arrived. I picked it up at the store, took it home, and played it. I don't know what I was expecting, but I know I was disappointed. Whatever the Slash columnist thought was Punk about this music, I wasn't hearing it. But it grew on me. I even attempted to mimic some of Johnson's guitar playing. My friend Tommy and I snickered over the famous lyrics, "squeeze my lemon, let the juice run down my leg."

My life as a wanna-be ethnomusicologist had begun.

I recently purchased King of the Delta Blues Singers again, this time on CD. I've been listening to it repeatedly for a couple of days now.

Volumes have been written about Robert Johnson. I don't think I have anything new to add to the over-analysis of his music, legacy, or mythology. Rock musicians such as Eric Clapton and Jimmy Page made Robert Johnson posthumously famous--so famous that at least one punk writer tried to claim him as one of theirs.

If you are unfamiliar with the music, it's at turns beautiful, haunting, and even funny. But it's Blues--not Punk--performed with one guitar and one voice.

This time I think I get it. I'm not expecting Punk now, but thanks anyway, Slash.