
FRED DAVIS - CLEVELAND BLUES - VINYL LP
"Fred Davis was a legend, but only in my living room. There was always music around my
house, but as a teenager, I started digging deeper and deeper in to the blues records in myĀ Dad's collection. That was when I started to get the Fred Davis story in fits and starts. FredĀ could play like T-Bone Walker and sang in a high, keen voice like J.B. Lenoir, he said. He usedĀ to front a jump band in Kansas City, before something went down that sent him to prison atĀ Leavenworth. In the summer of 1967, he ended up working alongside my Dad at Harco, theĀ Cleveland factory where my grandfather was an executive. They became friends, bonding overĀ the B.B. King and Bobby Bland records blaring from the AM radio on the factory floor.Ā Fred taught my Dad the rudiments of blues guitar, but his style. Instead of barring with his firstĀ finger, he wrapped his thumb around the back of the neck. That left his other fingers free toĀ create big, ringing voicings that imitated the Kansas City horn sections he heard in his youth.Ā Fred could play up and down the neck and, even when he played and sang just by himself, heĀ sounded like a full band. Or, at least, so the legend went. These were only foggy memories fromĀ thirty years previous, passed down from a father to a son.Ā But then we found the tape. A quarter inch reel in a plain white cardboard box, hiding on a shelfĀ in the attic. My Dad explained how it came to exist: He found some friends (acquaintancesĀ really) who had a band and some equipment. They setup in my grandparents living room whereĀ the upright piano was, and he invited Fred over to record some of his songs with the bandĀ backing him up. Invited him over, to play loud music, in his boss's living room. Sounds likeĀ something I would have done. The idea was that maybe if there were some recordings of FredĀ that he could use them to get booked on the nascent college blues-revival circuit, but it wasn't toĀ be.Ā We found a place nearby that could dub the tape and put it on a CD for us. When we finally gotĀ the transfer back, the legend became real. Fred really COULD sing like J.B. Lenoir and play likeĀ T-Bone Walker. He really DID have his own style. And that style had now been passed on toĀ me. Without even realizing it, I had learned to play like Fred Davis. Even now, when I sit down toĀ play the guitar or write a song and I wrap my thumb around the neck, I'm playing like he did.Ā With this music now professionally transferred and remastered, I can only hope that Fred DavisĀ can finally receive the acclaim that he deserves; that he never received in his lifetime. TheĀ legend can finally go behind the confines of my living room and, with any luck, to the wholeĀ world."Ā - Eli Paperboy Reed, fall 2022Product Information
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"Fred Davis was a legend, but only in my living room. There was always music around my
house, but as a teenager, I started digging deeper and deeper in to the blues records in myĀ Dad's collection. That was when I started to get the Fred Davis story in fits and starts. FredĀ could play like T-Bone Walker and sang in a high, keen voice like J.B. Lenoir, he said. He usedĀ to front a jump band in Kansas City, before something went down that sent him to prison atĀ Leavenworth. In the summer of 1967, he ended up working alongside my Dad at Harco, theĀ Cleveland factory where my grandfather was an executive. They became friends, bonding overĀ the B.B. King and Bobby Bland records blaring from the AM radio on the factory floor.Ā Fred taught my Dad the rudiments of blues guitar, but his style. Instead of barring with his firstĀ finger, he wrapped his thumb around the back of the neck. That left his other fingers free toĀ create big, ringing voicings that imitated the Kansas City horn sections he heard in his youth.Ā Fred could play up and down the neck and, even when he played and sang just by himself, heĀ sounded like a full band. Or, at least, so the legend went. These were only foggy memories fromĀ thirty years previous, passed down from a father to a son.Ā But then we found the tape. A quarter inch reel in a plain white cardboard box, hiding on a shelfĀ in the attic. My Dad explained how it came to exist: He found some friends (acquaintancesĀ really) who had a band and some equipment. They setup in my grandparents living room whereĀ the upright piano was, and he invited Fred over to record some of his songs with the bandĀ backing him up. Invited him over, to play loud music, in his boss's living room. Sounds likeĀ something I would have done. The idea was that maybe if there were some recordings of FredĀ that he could use them to get booked on the nascent college blues-revival circuit, but it wasn't toĀ be.Ā We found a place nearby that could dub the tape and put it on a CD for us. When we finally gotĀ the transfer back, the legend became real. Fred really COULD sing like J.B. Lenoir and play likeĀ T-Bone Walker. He really DID have his own style. And that style had now been passed on toĀ me. Without even realizing it, I had learned to play like Fred Davis. Even now, when I sit down toĀ play the guitar or write a song and I wrap my thumb around the neck, I'm playing like he did.Ā With this music now professionally transferred and remastered, I can only hope that Fred DavisĀ can finally receive the acclaim that he deserves; that he never received in his lifetime. TheĀ legend can finally go behind the confines of my living room and, with any luck, to the wholeĀ world."Ā - Eli Paperboy Reed, fall 2022










