The "Hound Dog" Taylor Article

by

John Gorny

I think the year was 1976. I was with a group of my friends traveling north, up Chicago's Lake Shore Drive to Sheridan Road, to a bar called Minstrel's. The place was right by Chicago's Loyola University. It was always crowed with young, White kids, and that night would be no exception. One reason was that at that time, a nineteen year old could get into the bars in Illinois. (You were restricted to drinking beer and wine). The other reason was, at least for that weekend, Hound Dog Taylor and the Houserockers were performing. Hound Dog's music was reaching a new audience. His first Alligator releases were getting airplay on the local rock radio stations. People were coming out to see the man who made the records. I was there to see if I could sit in with the band playing harmonica.  

As we walked into Minstrel's, we were carded at the door. The girl I was with was seventeen, just out of high school. She had a fake i.d. The guy at the door didn't seem to care too much. We all got in without a problem. The place was small and was beginning to fill up quickly. As we found some seats in the back, I saw sitting on the stage by a guitar and Fender amp, a tall, slim, Black man who seemed like he couldn't stop smiling as he talked to people in the club. It was Hound Dog Taylor.  

  As I continued to watch, he and the Houserockers started to party. They were brought drinks from the bar. Hound Dog first drank a straight shot of booze. He chased it with a mixed drink in a tall glass. He then downed a whole glass of beer. All three in rapid succession. About 10 minutes later, it was time to play.   

  Hound Dog, Brewer Phillps, and Ted Harvey took the bandstand. (Unknown to me at that moment, Lefty Dizz was also in the club). Hound Dog took the mic and said, "Hey, let's have some fun!". Did we ever! People at the club had discovered something for the first time. The audience reacted to the music with an enthusiasm that you only see when you experience something brand new. Black blues, from the Southside of Chicago, came up to the White people on the North side. Nobody could get enough.  

  Later in the evening, Hound Dog let me blow some harp in his band. There was not a lot of room on the bandstand so I had to play kneeling on the right side of Hound Dog. From that vantage point I saw how Hound Dog had his amp set. Every knob was on 10. We played for about 30 minutes until the end of the set. Hound Dog thanked me for doing a good job. I thanked him for the opportunity to play.  

I talked to Hound Dog for part of the intermission. He told me something about his life. As we continued to speak, Hound Dog said something that left me a little dumbfounded. What he said made me realize that blues for him was not just a style of music. I was made to realize what the blues were really based on and how fortunate I had been in my life.

I continued to talk with Hound Dog Taylor during one of the bands' breaks. The conversation then went to Hound Dog's music career. He told me that he felt very fortunate to be able to make a living playing the guitar.  He expressed a great deal of gratitude to  Bruce Iglauer who first recorded him and managed his career. Hound Dog said,  "I can't play shit but I can sure make it sound good! I'm glad I can do this because I couldn't do anything else for a living."  

  At this point, Hound Dog saw a puzzled look on my face. He said, "It's true! I couldn't get a job at Sears and Roebuck if  I couldn't do this!"  From my perspective, this was astounding. Being a White guy who grew up in the suburbs of Chicago, I couldn't imagine getting a job at Sears as being very difficult. I asked why he thought that he couldn't work at Sears? He told me. "I can't read or write!"  

That's when it hit me like a ton of bricks. I had grown up with a lot of advantages in my life. Namely, I had gotten the education to be able to read and write. In front of me sat a man, who, for whatever reason, didn't attain a basic education. I was always told that I was lucky to be able to read and write. No matter how much I was told that, it had no impact on me. Then I saw a man who was not able to do the things I took for granted. That had a huge impact on me!    

Hound Dog said that it was time to go back on. He thanked me for coming out and we shook hands. As the night wore on, I continued to party with my friends. Lefty Dizz was in the house that night. He got up to replace either Hound Dog or Brewer Phillips. That depended on who needed to nap for a short while, onstage no less, to recover from partying. I left with my friends at 4:00 AM when the place closed.  

  As we drove home that morning down Lake Shore Drive, I thought about what Hound Dog Taylor said. I realized that although I could play blues I had heard, Hound Dog played blues based on his life experiences. Experiences I had never known.