Wading In Muddy Waters

The blues legend's son, Big Bill Morganfield, gets his Mojo workin' and forges his own career.

"I'm my daddy's rising son," moans Atlanta's Big Bill Morganfield on the title cut of his debut album. And rising he is. In the rough and tumble world of the blues where hundreds of similar sounding bands vie for a piece of an extremely small popular music pie, a recognizable name, or even a tenuous affiliation with one, can make the difference between drawing a crowd on a sleepy Wednesday night, or playing to yet another empty bar. A stint, no matter how short, backing any of the blues legends, living or more likely dead, will assure a blues musician a resume entry that may not put you on festival stages, but can at least guarantee some national publications will review your new album.

In the blues genre there aren't many icons whose shadow looms larger than Muddy Waters'. His well publicized journey from a lowly cotton field laborer on Stovall's Plantation near Clarksdale, Mississippi, to becoming the patriarch of post World War ll Chicago blues is documented in every blues and rock and roll history book. Waters also had a knack for finding and grooming great musicians, who not surprisingly left his famous fold to form their own influential bands. Since his passing in 1983, just about every Waters alumni has gone solo, or regrouped into another band highlighting his affiliation with the deceased legend.

As one of the sons of Muddy Waters, whose real name McKinley Morganfield is known only to fans who read songwriter credits, Big Bill Morganfield, immediately commands attention in the blues world, not simply because he shares the surname of one of the most influential figures in the genre, but also because his debut album features three high-profile, long-time Muddy sidemen. It took almost a lifetime of living to connect Bill with his dad's band, but it's been worth the wait.

Although he's sketchy on the details, Bill was born in Chicago in 1956 to a woman Muddy apparently never married, and at the age of four months was sent to Florida to be raised by his grandmother. Although reunited with Muddy at age 10, neither music nor his dad was a major factor in his formative development, and after college he eventually relocated to Atlanta to teach in public schools. It wasn't until after Muddy's death in 1983 that Bill, then in his late 20's, picked up the guitar and started seriously learning, but more importantly, understanding, the blues genre to which his father's name was so indelibly linked.

At the age of 40, Big Bill finally decided to follow in Muddy's hard won footsteps and present the world with a taste of his famous bloodline. He quietly gigged around Atlanta clubs, honing his craft, and building a reputation until the time was right to make a move. Enter Bob Margolin, Waters' last long-term great guitarist, in a career filled with a lot of them. Bill met Margolin at the ceremony for the release of the Waters' postage stamp about five years ago, and although he didn't have a band at the time, the seeds for a future collaboration were planted. "I was still working on my skills, but we talked about things my dad had passed on to him about right hand technique with guitars, and other musical topics." The two connected again last year at the Kennedy Center show honoring Waters, where Margolin backed Bill on some Muddy classics. Morganfield's performance was astonishingly intense and the concert was seen widely on PBS. Phone calls were made, sessions booked with old Waters' sidemen, contracts signed, and Rising Son, Big Bill's first solo album was recorded on the established blues label, Blind Pig. Released last month, the disc features Morganfield's husky, emotive vocals, which, while far from an imitation of his father's unconventional and unique style, exhibit aspects of the legend's exquisite timing and simple yet powerful lyrical finesse.

  Although it would have been easy, obvious and ultimately safe, to merely reprise some of Waters' biggest hits, Morganfield wisely decided to pen most of the tunes himself, and cover only a few relatively obscure Muddy tunes. "You got so many people who have done "Hoochie Coochie Man," and "Mojo Workin'," explained Bill last week from his Atlanta home. "I mean who hasn't done those things? I wanted to be a little more thoughtful. I didn't want fans to say 'OK, you can do "Hoochie Coochie," what else you got?' "Screamin' & Cryin' " was one of my dad's favorite songs that he liked to sing, and I had taken "Champagne & Reefer" and rewrote it into a party song, so I thought that would be cool for he and I to kind of collaborate on something together."

Aside from a few covers and his legendary band, there's another genetic aspect that Big Bill shares with his famous father. It's the electric feeling he feels while performing live, the place where Muddy was at his best and when he seemed possessed by emotion. "Every time I hit the stage I get charged up from the feedback of the people, it just does something to me. I guess you could say it's like a drug."

  A drug whose high-potency prescription runs in the family.