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In my 20's, I and my bandmates decided to take a trip to the Bay area of San Francisco to check some real American blues. I also had a childhood friend from my hometown who had emigrated there. Since he could put us up, we took our instruments and headed out to the Frisco bay ! As we needed some cash to pay for our fares, we played a quick tour of the south of France to gather as much as we could. We ended up with barely enough to go but still decided to follow our initial gut feeling. Upon our arrival in San Francisco , we head out to the mission district to grab some food at a local taqueria named Pancho Villa's, out on 16 th and Valencia . Right after that, we decide to go up to the Haight/Ashbury, the infamous district where much of the 1960's hippy counsciousness took root. My first impression of the area is that some of the freaks seem to still be around, cloaked up in the usual granola garb : round sunglasses, bell bottoms, long hair, they are the spare-changing ghosts of the 60's/70's. It looks nevertheless cool to me : the indian summer in San Francisco is hot with the 27 degree celsius bay area weather.
We meet up with Pascal Faivre, our hometown pal, to unload our luggage. The following days are spent looking for a place to live since we decide to stay for the three months allowed by the tourist visa. I end up living on South Van Ness with a girl named Gwendoline and three other American roommates. Our drummer and bass player decide to get a studio together. Looks like we are settling down for a while. From then on, I spend every evening out scoping out live music at the local clubs and from time to time I get to jam with the local musicians. I get back home on the 9 Muni bus at 3 or 4 am, sometimes surrounded by night crawlers, some just plain eccentric, others plain scary. Needless to say a night out on the town gets its points in entertainments of all sorts
John Lee Hooker Since we had taken up the habit of going out to jam on Fillmore and Lombard to hand out our demo tape to whoever would take it, a fateful meeting was about to take place. On a Saturday night, we run into Amy Johnson, John Lee Hooker's publicist, who takes one of our tapes to play it for him. We think nothing of will come out of it and hand one out to the girl. One week later, we get a phone call from Jim Guyett, JLH's bass player whom we had met out of the blue a few days prior : « Someone here wants to talk to you, here he is » he says. « I really like your music » says the voice. It is no one other than Hooker himself, who in the same breath asks us to open for him for one of his upcoming shows. We are absolutely stoked beyond belief and accept the offer from the Blues legend In the meantime, we continue to jam hard and play out regardless of attendance. It is during one of these nights that I meet a master of the slide guitar, Mr. Johnny winter at a North Beach blues dive. I am very very impressed.
I return to San Francisco the following year. My buddy Pascal and I are invited over at John Lee Hooker's place out in Redwood City , a quaint little suburb in South San Francisco . We bring a nice bottle of French Champagne that John Lee declines due to his age and his sobriety. The weather out there is beautiful. We spot an old Cadillac outside his house as well as a huge black limo and the very car I had ridden in the year before. John Lee Hooker gives us a tour of his house where we see an amazing music room filled with a drumkit, guitar amps, a bass amp and a really cool piano, all ready to be played. It is there, according to legend, he once jammed with Carlos Santana, Keith Richards and many others. Out in the living room, on the fireplace, are two Grammy awards he won for some of his recordings. His personal chef is cooking some rice while his dog, Boogie, rescued from the animal shelter, strolls around the house. John Lee Hooker then takes us to his bedroom right in front of a huge TV screen. The phone keeps ringing. Amy answers. And so on….. We chat for about an hour and a half about the blues, mankind and life. He remembers playing in Besancon (near our hometown) 20 years before. He casually asks me if there is anything he can do for me, if I have a record label, a contract. He wants to call his label, I politely refuse, I don't know why i do that… I can honestly attest today that Mr. John Lee Hooker was a very generous man, very humble, a true shining star. I seriously think that he would have received any one with good intentions. John Lee Hooker quietly passed away during his sleep, on June 21 st 2002. A friend of mine, Tommy Castro, had hung out with him a week prior to his demise. He was still in good spirits and joking around until his last breath What a great Man. I will forever hold in our meeting a great lesson in Humanity. |
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I and the band find out what clubs offer Jam sessions. We participate in all without exception, be it in North Beach , the Marina , Downtown, or even Berkeley . What amazes me at first is the level of musicianship all over. Any guy who comes down to jam, to brighten up a day spent at work, possesses skills beyond belief. I can only imagine what the pros sound like. Moreover, absolutely no one has a chip on their shoulder, It is very easy for us to blend in with the crowd.
One particular evening, Amy calls me up to let me know John Lee has lended her one of his car with a chauffeur. She invites me for the ride to check out some shows. Here I am, slouched in the back of a brand new Japanese ride driven by a JLH's personal chauffeur along with his publicist. We check out some bands at several places, pound down a few beers while the driver waits for us. On the CD player, Amy asks him to play « Family Style » by the Vaughan Bros. Jimmy and Stevie Ray. It is such a kick ass night !