The North Mississippi Allstars frontman performs a song from his new solo album and gives a spirited lesson in hill country blues fingerpicking.
On the front porch of hill country blues and fife-and-drum legend Othar Turner’s home in Senatobia, Mississippi, is where Luther Dickinson found inspiration as a young guitarist in the 1990s. “Mississippi Fred McDowell was my favorite guitar player, and I’ve been studying his music for many, many years. When I finally took my guitar down to Otha’s house, he was like ‘Damn boy! I didn’t know you could do that!’” remembers Dickinson. “I didn’t know that Otha and Fred McDowell were best friends and used to be neighbors.
“Back in the day when I was a teenager, I would sit on Otha’s porch with our friends, all guys in the hill country blues scene, and we would all play guitar. We’d try to get Otha fired up enough that he would start singing. If he started singing, we knew we were getting somewhere.” Dickinson recorded many of these precious porch jams. “After Otha passed I went back and transcribed them,” he says.
We’re proud to premiere this video performance of one such song, “Hurry Up Sunrise,” from Dickinson’s ambitious new double album, Blues & Ballads (Folksinger’s Songbook: Volumes 1 & 2), as well as an exclusive video lesson where Dickinson describes the fingerpicking style he gleaned by observing his elders.
The always light and loose Dickinson tells the story of first adopting the groove from Otha’s front porch and, at his father Jim Dickinson’s suggestion, creating a duet of “Hurry Up Sunrise” with Lucinda Williams. Dickinson also shares how he learned to use his thumb to develop an authentic hill country blues fingerpicking style, and gives tips on how to approach the range of motion in your other four strumming fingers. (Like Luther says, you can even practice on your jean seams!)
It’s musical memories and traditions like these which inspired Dickinson to create his latest body of work, Blues & Ballads, released earlier this month. The vinyl version comes with a limited edition songbook complete with transcriptions for each song. “The limited pressing makes the legitimacy fleeting and as it should be: rare and underground,” says Dickinson. “I represent the Memphis underground and the Mid-South region’s music. This art is not for the masses. It is meant to wither and fade and then rise from the ashes again and again, evolving and mutating.”
The album encompasses works he wrote with his father, collaborations with some of his dearest musical compadres and mentors such as Mavis Staples, and songs he wrote with his brother Cody Dickinson and their band, the North Mississippi Allstars. Otha Turner’s granddaughter, Shardé Thomas, is also a focal musical force throughout, offering vocals, fife, drums, and even accordion.
Dickinson also incorporates and reinvents old lines and phrasing from songs that have existed in the folk lexicon for years. One example is on the track “My Leavin’,” which ends with the line, “When my evening sun goes down.”
The resulting collection of 21 songs is a memoir of sorts. Dickinson’s dream was to create his own songbook—a stripped down ode to his own family’s musical history, with a nod to the future.
“My whole life my dad really helped teach me how to craft songs,” Dickinson says. “I’d bring in these rough songs and we’d demo them up and record them. He would always go through them and make sure the syllable count added up and the rhymes were traditional. He taught me the importance of getting the most out of every word, making every word as strong as it could be. Now that he’s gone, I still work on songs using what he taught me. We’re still working together, because he taught me how to do it. The collaboration lives on.”
The Melvins' Buzz Osborne joins the party to talk about how he helped Kurt Cobain find the right sounds.
Growing up in the small town of Montesano, Washington, Kurt Cobain turned to his older pal Buzz Osborne for musical direction. So on this episode, we’re talking with the Melvins leader about their friendship, from taking Cobain to see Black Flag in ’84 to their shared guitar journey and how they both thought about gear. And in case you’ve heard otherwise, Kurt was never a Melvins roadie!
Osborne’s latest project is Thunderball from Melvins 1983, something of a side trajectory for the band, which harkens back to this time in Osborne’s life. We dig into that and how it all relates and much more.
Tube Amp Doctor has reissued one of the company’s mostsought-after products: the TAD 6L6WGC-STR Blackplate™ small bottle power tube is back inproduction after a 5-year absence.
The TAD 6L6WGC-STR Blackplate™ is the tube that has made TAD so popular with boutiqueamp manufacturers and vintage tone enthusiasts since 2003. A direct replacement for 6L6 and5881 tubes, it’s a remake of the small bottle GE6L6GC and has the same warm lower midrangeand silky top end as the classic GE versions of the 1950s and 1960s. Like the historic RCA5881, this tube features exclusive Blackplate anodes and a side getter.
The TAD 6L6GC-STR Blackplate™ and the TAD 6L6WGC-STR Blackplate™ feature TAD’sexclusive black-plate designs, gold grid wire, double getter construction, no-noise filaments and1.2mm thick heavy duty glass. This tube is approximately 80mm high (without pins) and canreplace 5881 and 6L6WGB tubes.
The newly reissued tubes feature the original design and raw materials from old stock, availablein limited quantities as long as the old stock raw materials are available. They’re the perfectchoice for vintage tweed and black panel amps such as the 1960 Bassman, Twin, Showman orSuper Reverb. The complex midrange and sweet heights are a class of its own. The TAD6L6WGC-STR is recommended for classic tone with warm cleans and rich, sweet mids whenpushed – and it’s great for fat jazz or blues tones.
- Delivers classic sound of the 1950s and ‘60s - excellent tone, maximum lifespan
- Tube Type: 6L6/5881
- Socket: 8 Pin(Octal)
- Identical construction, even tighter tolerances with improved production quality
The TAD 6L6GC-STR Blackplate™ and the TAD 6L6WGC-STR Blackplate™ are each priced at$48 (does not include VAT) / €46.50 (includes VAT) and are available at tubeampdoctor.com.
Our columnist’s collection of moon spruce, ready for inspection—with a view.
As players get older, our instrument needs change. Our columnist shares how he designed an acoustic adapted to arthritis.
For many acoustic guitarists, playing the instrument is one of life’s greatest joys. As a luthier, I’ve seen firsthand how deeply musicians cherish their guitars, something they look forward to playing not just weekly, but daily. As any guitarist knows, some guitars simply feel different. While some are more rigid and require extra effort to play, others feel smooth and effortless. With this in mind, as our playing needs evolve, so too may the instruments we choose to accompany us.
My clientele is diverse, ranging from musicians in their 20s to those well into their 70s and 80s. One common challenge I have observed is that as players reach their 50s, many begin experiencing arthritis, which can hinder their ability to play comfortably. There are several techniques luthiers use to improve playability, such as lowering the action or opting for a shorter scale length; for instance, switching from a Martin 25.4" scale to a Gibson 24.750" scale. But, over the years, I began considering whether it would be possible to design a guitar specifically for players with arthritis, allowing them to continue playing with less strain on their hands, shoulders, and overall body.
My guitars are already designed to be exceptionally easy to play. They are not built for aggressive strumming or rugged outdoor use, though I can accommodate various styles. Recently, I took this concept a step further for a customer, creating an instrument with a smaller neck. Moving away from the traditional 1.750" nut width, I refined it to a slender 1.675". The string spacing at the bridge was adjusted to 2 3/16" instead of the wider 2 1/4" spacing used primarily for fingerstyle playing. Additionally, I incorporated a 25" scale length for a lower string tension at full pitch.
Combined with a 13-frets-to-the-body design, these adjustments made the guitar feel significantly smaller and more comfortable in the player’s hands. To enhance comfort further, I used an orchestra-class instrument, and added both an arm and belly bevel, reducing strain on the player’s shoulders. Even though I chose an OM for this build, an auditorium-class design would work well, too.
However, the most crucial aspect of this instrument was the top, which serves as its engine. I selected a piece of moon spruce, personally sourced in Switzerland in August of last year. This type of spruce is lightweight and highly responsive. More importantly, when voiced and tuned correctly, it requires minimal effort to produce sound and it has a higher level of admittance.
“Any movement on the strings, whether by the picking hand or the fretting hand, requires significantly less effort than on a traditional guitar.”
Admittance is a crucial factor when evaluating any musical instrument, whether one you are building or considering for purchase. In guitars and tonewoods, admittance is the amount of sound that can be produced with a standard level of effort. If a piece of wood has a high level of damping, it will not produce sound efficiently when built into a guitar, resulting in an instrument that is less enjoyable to play. Conversely, if the wood exhibits an extremely low level of damping, the guitar may feel responsive and lively, but this does not necessarily indicate a well-balanced instrument. Damping must be carefully controlled, particularly in the soundboard, to achieve an ideal balance. A properly voiced guitar should provide excellent responsiveness, a full and resonant sound, and treble frequencies that are rich and warm rather than thin or overly sharp. Thus, when discussing these aspects of guitar construction and tonewood selection, the key term to remember is admittance. For this build I was looking for high admittance while retaining a deep, well-balanced tone.
For the player, this means that even with standard tuning at A440 and regardless of whether they choose light or medium strings, though light gauge is preferable, the guitar remains incredibly soft to play. Any movement on the strings, whether by the picking hand or the fretting hand, requires significantly less effort than on a traditional guitar. This is due to the top’s high flexibility and responsiveness, allowing for a soft touch while maintaining a respectable level of volume.
For those dealing with arthritis or other hand-related challenges, selecting a softer-playing guitar is essential. Shorter scale lengths can be beneficial, but having an instrument custom-built by a luthier who understands these considerations can make a significant difference. For my customers facing these issues, my goal is to ensure they can continue playing for as long as possible. I recognize how important the guitar is to their lives, and I want to help them keep playing without unnecessary discomfort. If you are experiencing difficulties, there are options available, and solutions worth exploring.
In challenging times, sometimes elemental music, like the late Jessie Mae Hemphill’s raucous Mississippi hill country blues, is the best salve. It reminds us of what’s truly essential––musically, culturally, and emotionally. And provides a restorative and safe place, where we can open up, listen, and experience without judgement. And smile.
I’ve been prowling the backroads, juke joints, urban canyons, and VFW halls for more than 40 years, in search of the rawest, most powerful and authentic American music. And among the many things I’ve learned is that what’s more interesting than the music itself is the people who make it.
One of the most interesting people I’ve met is the late Jessie Mae Hemphill. By the time my wife, Laurie Hoffma, and I met Jessie Mae, on a visit to her trailer in Senatobia, Mississippi, she’d had a stroke and retired from performing, but we’d been fortunate to see her years before at the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage festival, where she brought a blues style that was like quiet thunder, rumbling with portent and joy and ache, and all the other stuff that makes us human, sung to her own droning, rocking accompaniment on an old Gibson ES-120T.
To say she was from a musical family is an understatement. Her grandfather, Sid, was twice recorded by Alan Lomax for the Library of Congress. While Sid played fiddle, banjo, guitar, harmonica, keyboards, and more, he was best known as the leader of a fife-and-drum band that made music that spilled directly from Africa’s main artery. Sid was Jessie Mae’s teacher, and she learned well. In fact, you can see her leading her own fife-and-drum group in Robert Mugge’s wonderful documentary Deep Blues(with the late musician and journalist Robert Palmer as on-screen narrator), where she also performs a mournful-but-hypnotic song about betrayal—solo, on guitar—in Junior Kimbrough’s juke joint.
That movie, a 1982 episode of Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood (on YouTube) where she appears as part of Othar Turner’s Gravel Springs fife-and-drum band, and worldwide festival appearances are as close as Jessie Mae ever got to fame, although that was enough to make her important and influential to Bonnie Raitt, Cat Power, and others. And she made two exceptional albums during her lifetime: 1981’s She-Wolf and 1990’s Feelin’ Good. If you’re unfamiliar with North Mississippi blues, their sound will be a revelation. The style, as Jessie Mae essayed it, is a droning, hypnotic joy that bumps along like a freight train full of happily rattling box cars populated by carefree hobos. Often the songs ride on one chord, but that chord is the only one that’s needed to put the music’s joy and conviction across. Feelin’ Good, in particular, is essential Jessie Mae. Even the songs about heartbreak, like “Go Back To Your Used To Be” and “Shame on You,” have a propulsion dappled with little bends and other 6-string inflections that wrap the listener in a hypnotic web. Listening to Feelin’ Good, it’s easy to disappear in the music and to have all your troubles vanish as well—for at least as long as its 14 songs last.“She made it clear that she had a gun—a .44 with a pearl handle that took up the entire length of her handbag.”
The challenge I’ve long issued to people unfamiliar with Jessie Mae’s music is: “Listen to Feelin’ Good and then tell me if you’re not feeling happier, more cheerful, and relaxed.” It truly does, as the old cliché would have it, make your backbone slip and your troubles along with it. Especially uptempo songs like the scrappy title track and the charging “Streamline Train.” There’s also an appealing live 1984 performance of the latter on YouTube, with Jessie Mae decked out in leopard-print pants and vest, playing a tambourine wedged onto her left high-heel shoe––one of her stylish signatures.
Jessie Mae was a complex person, caught between the old-school dilemma of playing “the Devil’s music” and yearning for a spiritual life, sweet as pecan pie with extra molasses but quick to turn mean at any perceived slight. She also spent much of her later years in poverty, in a small trailer with a hole in the floor where mice and other critters got in. And she was as mistrustful of strangers as she was warm once she accepted you into her heart. But watch your step before she did. On our first visit to her home, she made it clear that she had a gun—a .44 with a pearl handle that took up the entire length of her handbag and would make Dirty Harry envious.
Happily, she took us into her heart and we took her into ours, helping as much as we could and talking often. She was inspiring, and I wrote a song about her, and even got to perform it for her in her trailer, which was just a little terrifying, since I knew she would not hold back her criticism if she didn't like it. Instead, she giggled like a kid and blushed, and asked if I’d write one more verse about the artifacts she’d gathered while touring around the world.
Jessie Mae died in 2006, at age 82, and, as happens when every great folk artist dies, we lost many songs and stories, and the wisdom of her experience. But you can still get a whiff of all that––if you listen to Feelin’ Good.