This Blog Has Moved | The World As Seen By Steve

The blog has a new location: stevelikens.me 

And a new name: The World As Seen By Steve

Please visit me at the new location for current posts.

Thanks for stopping by.

Steve

Little Tybee Island Offers Big Adventure

Little Tybee Island is an unspoiled nature preserve in the string of barrier islands that separate Savannah, Georgia, from the Atlantic Ocean. You can only get there by boat from "regular-size" Tybee Island.

Its salt marshes and tidal creeks are home to many endangered species of birds and the beach is ideal for shell collecting. In May of this year, after our successful post-vaccine trip to Juke Joint Festival in Clarksdale, Mississippi (which you can read about here), Mrs. L. wanted to spend some time in Savannah. So, off we went - three days on Tybee Island and three days in the city. On Saturday, we booked a private charter tour of Little Tybee. 

Our captain piloted us through the marshy waterways and then left us to explore the beach on foot, which we had to ourselves. 

The charter service timed our excursion so we could watch the sunset on the way back.

If you are interested in your own big adventure on Little Tybee, we booked the "Little Tybee 'Unplugged' Boat Trip" through Sundial Charters.

Thanks for stopping by.

- Steve

RL Boyce | RL Got Gramminated

"Which R.L. do you want?"

R.L. Boyce at the 2004 Bonnaroo Music & Arts Festival

I know of three R.L.s - my late uncle R.L. Robertson, a South Carolina farmer; R.L. Burnside, the late Blues Hall of Famer from Marshall County, Mississippi; and R.L. Boyce, a hill country bluesman from Como, Mississippi. My grandma Georgia was a Boyce. So, I'm sure that if you dig down deep enough and remove enough people, you'll find that the third R.L. and I are related. At least, I'd like to think so. 

"Cousin" R.L. and I did a lot together during this blog's nine year hiatus. There are too many stories to recount in just one post. But, the following is a start. 

R.L. Boyce | North Mississippi Hill Country Picnic

R.L. began his music career as a drummer in Otha Turner's fife and drum band (mentioned in this post). He "learned guitar" to become a lead man on his own. In 2015, I helped R.L. on his South American tour with Carlos Elliot, Jr. and the Cornlickers. By that time, I had known him a couple of years but had yet to solve the mystery of the initials. When the time came to book his flight, I told R.L. that the name on his international ticket had to match his name exactly as it was on his birth certificate and I needed to know what it was. The trap was set. "You got your pencil ready," he said over the phone. "I'll go real slow. ... R period L period B-O-Y-C-E."

with the Cornlickers
Tony Ryder, RL, Dale Wise, Carlos Elliot, Bobby Gentilo

Peirera, Colombia | soundcheck

Medellin Blues Festival © 2015 Steve W. Likens

Medellin Blues Festival © 2015 Steve W. Likens

Hard Rock Cafe - Medellin | in the green room

Envigado, Colombia | Contenedoros

Prior to the show in Peirera, a local news crew asked RL why it was important to him to be part of the event. For what would not be the last time in my life, RL turned to me and said, "You tell 'em, buddy." Staring at the camera, I blurted out the only thing that came mind. "Because he likes to boogie and he wants you to boogie, too."

Skipping ahead to 2017, RL released an album of extended, improvisational blues jams recorded live in the front yard of his house in Como, Mississippi. Entitled Roll & Tumble, it features RL on guitar and vocals, Luther Dickinson (North Mississippi All-Stars) and Lightin' Malcolm on guitars, and the father-son duo of Calvin Jackson (Junior Kimbrough) and Cedric Burnside (the other RL's grandson) on drums. In November that year, the label called me with news. Within minutes, RL called me, too. "Hey, buddy. Luther called and said I won tickets to the Grammys." "No, buddy," I replied. "You got nominated for a Grammy." As a result, more people started asking RL the same question I did and RL kept giving the same answer he gave me.  

promoting Roll & Tumble at Radio Memphis

at home in Como, Mississippi

The Recording Academy held the 2018 Grammy Awards at Madison Square Garden in New York City, rather than Kodak Theater in Hollywood where the show took place in previous years. January in Los Angeles beats January in New York hands down. Nevertheless, I would not have missed this trip to NYC in January for anything.

The ceremony has two parts. Awards in most of the 84 categories, including Best Traditional Blues Album, are handed out during the afternoon. The awards in the remaining ten or so categories are announced that evening during the live TV broadcast. Before we headed off for the Big Apple, Luther offered some advice from personal experience. "It's a long day," he said. "Bring snacks." So, on the way to the ceremony, we stopped at a corner convenience store to stuff the pockets of my new tux with goodies. "What do you want?" I asked. "Nothing. I'm fine," RL assured. Sure enough, though, less than 30 minutes into the broadcast portion, he whispered, "Hey, buddy. You got any more of them Snicker bars?" 

Mrs. L. and the nominee in NYC

promo stop at City Winery NYC during Grammy week - photo by Mrs. L.

Did RL win? In the words of fellow nominee Elvin Bishop, "Aww, hell no. We was up against the Rollin Stones."

Thanks for stopping by.

- Steve

Historic Elmwood Cemetery | 2019 Volunteer Photographer-in-Residence

This post showcases some of my work as the 2019 McCrosky Volunteer Photographer-in-Residence at Historic Elmwood Cemetery in Memphis, Tennessee. Special thanks to Executive Director Kim Bearden for the invitation and allowing me to be a part of Elmwood's story in this way.

Since 1852, the history of Memphis has been buried in Elmwood Cemetery. The famous and the infamous, mayors, governors, judges, politicians of all stripes, civic planners, military generals and commanders, veterans of every American war, madams, musicians, religious who coaxed our souls toward heaven, and entrepreneurs who clothed our soles on earth are laid to rest here.

Elmwood is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. It is also an official Bird Sanctuary and a Level II Arboretum.

Elmwood offers guided tours of the grounds. You can also explore on your own - walking or driving - using the map and self-guided recording available at the main office.

All photos © 2019 Steve W. Likens

Thanks for stopping by.

- Steve

Leo Bud Welch | I Don't Know What You Come To Do

Leo "Bud" Welch | 2013 Otha Turner Family Picnic
© 2013 Steve W. Likens

Otha Turner and his Rising Star Fife and Drum Band performed all over the world. But back home, he was famous for the picnics hosted on his farm in Gravel Springs, Mississippi. Musician friends would drop by for a bar-b-que goat sandwich, and an adult beverage or two, and then stay to play all night long. The Gravel Springs community in Tate County borders on neighboring Panola County. Tate was dry. Panola was wet. The story goes, at least the one told to me, that on the morning of a picnic local politicians would declare Otha's place to be in Panola County for the day. Since his passing in 2003, Otha's granddaughter Sharde Thomas has kept his fife and drum and picnic legacies intact. 

Sharde Thomas and The Rising Star Fife & Drum Band
Photos © 2013 Steve W. Likens 

It was at one such gathering on Otha's old homestead in the summer of 2013 that I met Leo "Bud" Welch. His manager, Vencie (who I did not know at the time), saw the camera hanging on my neck and walked over. "That's Leo Bud Welch," he said, nodding back at the gentleman sitting behind us. "He's 81 years old and plays guitar. Would you take some pictures?" Leo stood up. Vencie introduced us. We chatted a bit. Leo proudly told me he was from Bruce, Mississippi. He also confided that today was not only one of his first public performances outside the church, but one of his first public "blues" performances. I snapped a few shots. Then, it was Leo's and his red guitar's turn to take the stage - a flatbed trailer parked behind Otha's old house. Accompanied by a solitary drummer, Leo played a brand of blues both raw and gritty, yet deeply infused with the gospel music he grew up performing in church. 

The photos from that impromptu shoot would soon help introduce Leo to a world-wide audience. Elmore magazine published the photo at the top of this post, which Leo also used in one of his early videos.

Garden & Gun published the following photo, which also appeared in The StarTribune, The Morton Report, and the fundraising trailer for the full-length documentary, "Late Blossom Blues," by Austrian filmmaker and promoter Wolfgang Almer.

Photo © 2013 Steve W. Likens

              

Over the next four years, I was blessed to spend time with Leo on several more occasions and photograph him again.

Photos above | May 2017 Kimbrough Cotton Patch Blues Festival

Leo and Vencie | 2015 Bentonia Blues Festival
photo © 2015 Steve W. Likens

I took this one at the Foxfire Ranch Blues Barn near Waterford, Mississippi:

Photo © 2014 Steve W. Likens

When Leo passed in December 2017, the family included it as one of three photos etched into his headstone. I am humbled and honored to remain with him in this way.

photo courtesy of Mt. Zion Memorial Fund

Not long after that picnic performance, Leo recorded his first record, "Sabougla Voices." It was released in 2014 on Big Legal Mess Records a division of Fat Possum. In condensed form, the lyrics of the opening track are a fitting conclusion for this post:

I don't know what you come to do.

I come to praise his name.

I don't know what you come to do.

I come to sing my song.

I don't know what you come to do.

I come to kneel in prayer.

You can listen to it on Leo's still-active YouTube channel.

Thanks for stopping by.

- Steve

Juke Joint Festival | Hey, Hey, The Jab Is Okay!

"I'm goin down south. I'm goin down south. I'm goin down south.

I'm goin down south. Where the chilly wind don't blow."

(R.L. Burnside)

 "Hey, hey, the blues is alright. It's alright. Alright. Every day and night."

(Little Milton)

Mrs. L. and I each got the second COVID jab, as folks across the pond call it, in early April. By mid-month we were fully cooked and anxious, despite Mr. Baggins's words of caution, to seek adventure beyond the safety and comfort of our own front porch. First up, you ask? The Juke Joint Festival in Clarksdale, Mississippi, of course!

Each April (except during the lost year of 2020) we drive south into the heart of the Delta for three days of blues and joyful reunions with friends from afar - both domestic and imported. In the daylight, the action takes place outside. The sidewalk of every downtown block hosts live music by the renown as well as the local and the obscure. Arts and craft vendors fill the streets hawking everything from cigar box guitars to R.P.'s custom made bird houses. (We have collected four over the years. You can see one of them below.) There's even a race track for monkeys riding dogs. After dark, the scenes shift inside. Every juke joint in town moans and howls until the wee hours and beyond. It's in these sordid places filled with the Devil's music that Mrs. L. and I are reminded that 6 a.m. hasn't always immediately followed 9 p.m. We know the answer to "why did we do that?," but it's "how were we even awake at that hour?" that continues to baffle us. I think it might be because we've had a whole year to rest up. A famous son of the Mississippi gulf coast once declared there's a thin line between Saturday night and Sunday morning. On Juke Joint weekend, I'm not convinced there's a line at all. Needless to say, this is our happy place.

Continued travel restrictions in Europe and South America limited our reunions to the domestic variety. We longed for the company of our friends from abroad, but their absence makes our hearts grow fonder. Still, it was healing, so to speak, to reconnect in-person with so many of the cast of out-of-town characters who fill and enrich our life. These are but two:

When seeing friends for the first time during the festival, it's important to follow the time-honored festival greeting ritual. This year, our ritual played out with an added twist:

Mr. and Mrs. L. spot friends down the street or across a parking lot and begin waving frantically. Said friends, in turn, notice Mr. and Mrs. L. waving and begin frantically waving back. Or, vice-a-versa. Everyone then runs towards each other screaming wildly, arms opened wide. Suddenly, about six feet apart, we all screech to an awkward halt and shout in unison, as if on cue, "Wait! Have you been vaccinated? We have." Once mutually confirmed, the long overdue hugs begin.

Mix. Stir. Repeat.

In another twist this year, some of the nighttime venues moved the bands outside. So, rather than jostle the crowd in a space too small to hold the number of angels dancing on the head of a pin, we grooved to tunes from the comfort of camp chairs with plenty of fresh air and elbow room. Both my body and my patience, which are now on the 60 side of 50 (or as Mrs. L. graciously says, "not in their twenties any more"), rejoiced at this arrangement. Photo above: Bill Abel and Deak Harp laying down some truly cosmic and mind bending blues.

For my money, the prize for festival highlight goes to the birthday celebration and performance by 94 year old Cadillac John Nolden (pictured above). Several international streaming services broadcasted it "live from Clarksdale." By the way, Cadillac's show started at one in the afternoon, so he could be home and in bed before nine. If you have the time and are so inclined, you can peruse the full set of photos from the 2021 Juke Joint Festival HERE .

Thanks for stopping by.

- Steve