This book is a little bit different. It’s as much a story of “Mack” McCormick as it is of Robert Johnson himself, and of the small industry built around Johnson, an industry that reached unhealthy extremes.
McCormick was an accomplished and dogged researcher and journalist of blues music, its culture, its history, and its personalities. There may be no bigger fish in that sea that Robert Johnson, and McCormick went after Johnson full bore.
The book is subtitled “A Robert Johnson Blues Odyssey,” and it is that. McCormick worked out of his home in Houston, hitting the road to travel the Mississippi delta and on into the other parts of Mississippi, following the river and the two highways whose places and towns appear in Johnson’s songs and in what little is known (or thought to be known) about his life.
Robert Johnson was an immensely influential musician. He lived to be only 27 years old and left songs from only two recording sessions before his death in 1938. When the blues-rock wave hit music in the 1960s and 1970s, Johnson’s songs were all over it — recorded by Cream, The Rolling Stones, John Mayall, Ten Years After, The Paul Butterfield Blues Band, and many others. Songs like Walking Blues, Hellhound on My Trail, Crossroads Blues, and Love in Vain are staples of the genre, even adapted into hit songs by some of those groups.
But you had to read the labels to see that these all came from Robert Johnson. He was this unknown figure behind the scenes. And it turned out, not much was really known about him. Few photographs. Little information about where he came from. And, most of all, scant details about how he died, apparently poisoned by someone whose wife or girlfriend he’d trespassed with.
The void of known facts about Johnson was filled by the legend-making industry that McCormick became part of. He scoured those routes along the river and the highways, hanging out in small, rural towns, introducing himself cold to strangers on sidewalks, knocking on doors, sitting down in diners and bars — asking questions of whoever the trails led to. He talked to random townspeople, people rumored to have known or played alongside Johnson, and to possible relatives.
You have to give him some nods for his detective work. He found relatives, he found fellow musicians, he found childhood friends, and somehow he got rural black southerners to talk to this white guy asking all sorts of nosey, even personal questions.
Gradually he built up files and files of notes, a literal archive now housed in the Smithsonian Museum collection, not just about Johnson but about Johnson and the other figures, history, and culture of country and delta blues. And the notes drawn from interviews and travels did help put together the story of Robert Johnson, pushing the mythology a bit aside to make room for facts.
This book is a draft of McCormick’s account of his detective work, never published before his own death. And it reads just like a very good detective story. We follow along as he goes from town to town, searching down clues, reaching dead ends, new clues, and the occasional revelation. Like I said, it’s hard not to admire his work, both as a detective and as a writer who can build suspense, provide plateaus of climax, and just keep you turning the pages.
The book is framed by John Troutman’s Preface and Afterward. Troutman puts McCormick in perspective.
McCormick crossed the line. This part of the story is summarized by Troutman — it came after the period covered by McCormick’s own account.
McCormick found Robert Johnson’s sisters. He and another researcher, Steve LaVere, bowled over and exploited Johnson’s remaining family, with bogus or unfairly negotiated contracts and agreements, competing for control over Johnson’s story. They both “borrowed” and never returned family photographs. They both claimed rights to Johnson’s life story, as told by his family.
Their own egos and obsessions got the better of everyone involved. McCormick even obstructed the release of the full set of Johnson’s recordings, eventually released by Columbia Records in 1990. McCormick and LaVere left behind a trail of shameful damage to Johnson’s family and to Johnson’s own legacy, turning him from a worthy legend and an intriguing mystery to a potential moneypot. Fortunately, he is still a legend and somewhat of a mystery.
All that said, the book is fascinating, both for its account of McCormick’s detective work and for the wider picture of the Robert Johnson phenomenon.
A number of Robert Johnson biographies have been published. The definitive story of Robert Johnson’s life is almost certainly his stepsister’s memoir, Brother Robert by Annye C. Anderson. Anderson knew Robert as a stepbrother, a flesh and blood human being. She knew his habits, listened to him play his music, and she knew his character.
Go there for the story of Robert Johnson. Go here for an intriguing and uncomfortable look into McCormick’s detective work.