Here, in its entirety, as published by the Crossroads Blues Society is the “vision, with a V” of bluesman Henry Goodman:
Robert Johnson been playing down in Yazoo City and over at Beulah trying to get back up to Helena, ride left him out on a road next to the levee, walking up the highway, guitar in his hand propped up on his shoulder. October cool night, full moon filling up the dark sky, Robert Johnson thinking about Son House preaching to him, "Put that guitar down, boy, you drivin' people nuts." Robert Johnson needing as always a woman and some whiskey. Big trees all around, dark and lonesome road, a crazed, poisoned dog howling and moaning in a ditch alongside the road sending electrified chills up and down Robert Johnson's spine, coming up on a crossroads just south of Rosedale. Robert Johnson, feeling bad and lonesome, knows people up the highway in Gunnison. Can get a drink of whiskey and more up there. Man sitting off to the side of the road on a log at the crossroads says, "You're late, Robert Johnson." Robert Johnson drops to his knees and says, "Maybe not."
The man stands up, tall, barrel-chested, and black as the forever-closed eyes of Robert Johnson's stillborn baby, and walks out to the middle of the crossroads where Robert Johnson kneels. He says, "Stand up, Robert Johnson. You want to throw that guitar over there in that ditch with that hairless dog and go on back up to Robinsonville and play the harp with Willie Brown and Son, because you just another guitar player like all the rest, or you want to play that guitar like nobody ever played it before? Make a sound nobody ever heard before? You want to be the King of the Delta Blues and have all the whiskey and women you want?"
"That's a lot of whiskey and women, Devil-Man."
"I know you, Robert Johnson," says the man.
Robert Johnson, feels the moonlight bearing down on his head and the back of his neck as the moon seems to be growing bigger and bigger and brighter and brighter. He feels it like the heat of the noonday sun bearing down, and the howling and moaning of the dog in the ditch penetrates his soul, coming up through his feet and the tips of his fingers through his legs and arms, settling in that big empty place beneath his breastbone causing him to shake and shudder like a man with the palsy. Robert Johnson says, "That dog gone mad."
The man laughs. "That hound belong to me. He ain't mad, he's got the Blues. I got his soul in my hand."
The dog lets out a low, long soulful moan, a howling like never heard before, rhythmic, syncopated grunts, yelps, and barks, seizing Robert Johnson like a Grand Mal, and causing the strings on his guitar to vibrate, hum, and sing with a sound dark and blue, beautiful, soulful chords and notes possessing Robert Johnson, taking him over, spinning him around, losing him inside of his own self, wasting him, lifting him up into the sky. Robert Johnson looks over in the ditch and sees the eyes of the dog reflecting the bright moonlight or, more likely so it seems to Robert Johnson, glowing on their own, a deep violet penetrating glow, and Robert Johnson knows and feels that he is staring into the eyes of a Hellhound as his body shudders from head to toe.
The man says, "The dog ain't for sale, Robert Johnson, but the sound can be yours. That's the sound of the Delta Blues."
"I got to have that sound, Devil-Man. That sound is mine. Where do I sign?"
The man says, "You ain't got a pencil, Robert Johnson. Your word is good enough. All you got to do is keep walking north. But you better be prepared. There are consequences."
"Prepared for what, Devil-man?"
"You know where you are, Robert Johnson? You are standing in the middle of the crossroads. At midnight, that full moon is right over your head. You take one more step, you'll be in Rosedale. You take this road to the east, you'll get back over to Highway 61 in Cleveland, or you can turn around and go back down to Beulah or just go to the west and sit up on the levee and look at the River. But if you take one more step in the direction you're headed, you going to be in Rosedale at midnight under this full October moon, and you are going to have the Blues like never known to this world. My left hand will be forever wrapped around your soul, and your music will possess all who hear it. That's what's going to happen. That's what you better be prepared for. Your soul will belong to me. This is not just any crossroads. I put this "X" here for a reason, and I been waiting on you."
Robert Johnson rolls his head around, his eyes upwards in their sockets to stare at the blinding light of the moon which has now completely filled tie pitch-black Delta night, piercing his right eye like a bolt of lightning as the midnight hour hits. He looks the big man squarely in the eyes and says, "Step back, Devil-Man, I'm going to Rosedale. I am the Blues."
The man moves to one side and says, "Go on, Robert Johnson. You the King of the Delta Blues. Go on home to Rosedale. And when you get on up in town, you get you a plate of hot tamales because you going to be needing something on your stomach where you're headed."
THE CROSSROADS CURSE!!!
Popular rock musicians who have performed the song include Eric Clapton and Cream, The Allman Brothers Band, and Lynyrd Skynyrd; and Led Zeppelin has lifted several of Johnson’s more sexual allusions for use in their lyrics. The Crossroads Curse may have touched even Kurt Cobain, the founder of Nirvana. Each of these bands has been the target of intense professional and personal tragedies that make some wonder whether the Devil isn’t still taking his payment all these long years later…
Eric Clapton and Cream recorded “Crossroad Blues” for their “Cream: Wheels of Fire” LP at the height of their fame. Within a few short years, the band was disbanded and Clapton was wallowing in the throes of heroin addiction. Years later, having cleaned up his life and enjoying a profitable solo career, Clapton was tragically struck by the death of his two year old son who fell from an apartment window to death several stories below.
The tragedy surrounding The Allman Brothers Band is practically legend in the annals of rock and roll. At the height of their fame, in 1971, Duane Allman, who is said to have loved performing “Crossroad Blues” live, was tragically killed in a motorcycle accident at another crossroads near Macon, Georgia where he swerved his motorcycle to avoid hitting a truck. He died later from his injuries. Just over a year later, in 1972, another band member, guitarist Berry Oakley, was killed while riding his motorcycle; he died less than a mile from the spot where Duane Allman had met his death. Though the band soldiered on, Duane’s brother Gregg felt compelled to immortalize his brother’s connection to a crossroads in the song “Melissa”: “Crossroads will you ever let him go? Or will you hide the dead man’s ghost?”
The popular Alabama band Lynyrd Skynyrd added a cover version of Robert Johnson’s “Crossroad Blues” to their live performances. It’s raw power and driving rhythm were something that every audience looked forward to and the crowds kept coming as the band toured the south throughout 1976 and 1977. Then in October 1977, as the band was flying from Greenville, SC to their next show at the L.S.U. Assembly Center their aging Convair 240 lost an engine in mid-flight. The panicked crew lost control of the plane when they mistakenly dumped all the fuel. Minutes later the plane plunged into a swamp outside Gillsburg, Mississippi and broke into pieces. Both pilots, two of the band’s members, including singer Ronnie Van Zant, and other relatives were killed in the crash. What had been a promising future in rock music lay in pieces in a Mississippi swamp.
Led Zeppelin was famous for lapsing into treatments of many of Robert Johnson’s blues songs, including a riveting live version of “Crossroad Blues.” It is from Johnson that singer Robert Plant borrowed the famous lyrics for The Lemon Song, “squeeze my lemon till the juice runs down my leg.” Arguably one of the best and most influential rock bands ever, Led Zeppelin spent the 70’s defying gravity and riding their “lead balloon” to super fame and fortune. Near the end of the 70’s, however, the band fell upon some bad luck, triggered by the untimely death of Plant’s son to septic shock in 1977. Shortly after this, amid rumors of black magic and sexual sadism, guitarist Jimmy Page was battling his own demons trying to kick a monstrous heroin addiction. In the next several years, Led Zeppelin would lose its drummer, the phenomenal John Bonham, and the manager who had guided them to supergroup status and beyond, the inimitable Peter Grant.
Finally, Kurt Cobain, the father of the grunge movement of the 1990’s, was said to have performed his own acoustic version of “Crossroad Blues” while traveling with Nirvana and for family and friends. Cobain considered reworking it for the band to play live and was said to have been toying with recording a new version of the Robert Johnson classic when his life came to a tragic end. In April 1994 Cobain was found on the second floor of his garage at his Washington state dead from a shotgun blast through the head. The circumstances surrounding Cobain’s death are still the subject of hot debate – with rival camps claiming that Cobain committed suicide and others claiming that he was murdered in a conspiracy that centered around his wife, Courtney Love – and it seems that the curse didn’t stop at Cobain’s death. Two people, one former Cobain employee and a Seattle cop widely reviled for having botched the death site investigation, have both followed Cobain to the grave.
ESU AND THE CROSSROADS LEGENDS
“The crossroads is where you make a pact with the devil.”
The diety Esu was believed to be the guardian of the crossroads, and was an intermediate between gods and humans. When Christianity was brought to African Culture, these pagan gods were labeled as being similar to the devil. Hence, the concept that one could find the devil at a crossroad. In celtic tradition, the bodies of the unholy were buried outside of town near crossroads to preserve consecrated ground.
BLACK DOGS
“It’s all pretty vague. I mean, there’s spectral black dogs all over the world. Some say their animal spirits, others death omens. But, what ever they are, they’re big and nasty.”
A black dog is a ghostly presence found primarily in British folklore. The black dog is essentially a nocturnal being, and it’s appearance is regarded as a foreshadowing of death. It is larger than a physical dog, and often has large, glowing eyes. It is often associated with electrical storms, crossroads, places of executioner and ancient pathways. In Norfolk legend the creature is supposed to be amphibious, coming out of the sea at night and traveling the lonely roads.
HELLHOUND ON MY TRAIL
"They’re seeing dogs, alright. But, their not seeing Black Dogs. They’re seeing Hell Hounds. Demonic Pittbulls.”
A demonic dog of hell, usually referring to Cerberus, the dog of Hades from Greek mythology. The ghostly hounds are said to haunt parts of the United Kingdom and many names are given to the apparitions. Black Shuck of East Anglia, Moddey Dhoo of the Isle of Man, Gwyllgi of Wales. Hellhounds are a common creature in fantasy fiction, such as in Arthur Conan Doyle’s “The Hounds of Tinadalos.” They are common in role-playing and video games, including “Dungeons and Dragons”, “Shadowrun”, “RunScape”, “Adventure Quest” and the “Zork” series.
I live in Yazoo City,the gateway to the delta. The devil and his curse are alive and well down here. The lowest incomes in the nation.High per capita teenage pregnancy,high school dropouts,welfare recipients.The Delta however produced some incredible Americans in the midst of this. Writers Willie Morris,Shelby Foote,William Faulkner. Musicians Muddy Waters,Howling Wolf,B.B King,Skip James.
There was another curse that plagued my home town. The Witch of Yazoo. Look it up on the internet.Pretty interesting stuff.
DD, will you be attending the Hill Country shindig in May, so we can put a face with a name(or user i.d.)? You could make some side dough as a tour guide. ---------- Todd L. Greene, V.P.
Todd, I love Kurt! I get tired of the conspiracy theories though. When he was hospitalized with an overdose a just before he shot himself I told everyone, there is a guy trying to kill himself. All my friends said no one with a model for a wife, a band like Nirvana and a sweet kid would kill themselves... oh well. Live by the needle die by something way too young.
Bingo. i don't think Kurt's problem was any curse;just trouble dealing with the entanglements of fame.
@ DD-Adam was looking for 'definite maybes', and got enough interest to go ahead with planning it. He's presumably working on it all now. ---------- Todd L. Greene, V.P.
You've created quite a buzz with it, Adam. It'll be a blast! We have faith in you. ---------- Todd L. Greene, V.P.
Last Edited by on Jan 29, 2010 9:15 AM
I'm just bitter because I was an 80's high-excess metalhead and Kurt Cobain and grunge killed it...partially kidding, as I liked some of it, but never could personally see Nirvana as much more than a garage band. Not trying to start WW3;just my unsolicited opinion. ---------- Todd L. Greene, V.P.
Last Edited by on Jan 29, 2010 9:38 AM
Jimi Hendrix, Nirvana, Sound Garden, Pearl Jam, Heart etc. They were all garage bands around here (Seattle) at one time or another. At one time I considered this area to be the Liverpool of our era... Still a great music town.
@toddgreene Point well taken. I was mainly using your previous comment to express my gratitude for being in such a great music area (in a boastful kinda' way - sorry). Seattle is very cool and the fact I get to live a little out of town in the country just north of it makes it all the better for me. If I ever get to NOLA again I'm going to come see one of your gig's.
has anybody heard of the connection of Robert Johnson and the allman bros song Melissa?has this ever by clarified by Gregg allman....Robert Johnson was a drifter and womanizer maybe there was reference to him in this pretty song
Gregg Allman spoke at length about this song in an interview with the San Luis Obispo (CA) Tribune on November 30, 2006: "I wrote that song in 1967 in a place called the Evergreen Hotel in Pensacola, Florida. By that time I got so sick of playing other people's material that I just sat down and said, 'OK, here we go. One, two, three - we're going to try to write songs.' And about 200 songs later - much garbage to take out - I wrote this song called 'Melissa.' And I had everything but the title. I thought (referring to lyrics): 'But back home, we always run... to sweet Barbara' - no. Diane...? We always run... to sweet Bertha.' No, so I just kind of put it away for a while. So one night I was in the grocery store - it was my turn to go get the tea, the coffee, the sugar and all that other s--t... and there was this Spanish lady there and she had this little toddler with her - this little girl. And I'm sitting there, getting a few things and what have you. And this little girl takes off, running down the aisle. And the lady yells, Oh, Melissa! Melissa, come back, Melissa!' And I went, 'Oh - that's it.' I forgot about half the stuff I went for, I went back home and, man, it was finished, only I couldn't really tell if it was worth a damn or not because I'd written so many bad ones. So I didn't really show it to anybody for about a year. And then I was the last one to get to Jacksonville - I was the last one to join the band that became the Allman Brothers. And my brother sometimes late at night after dinner, he'd say, 'Man, go get your guitar and play me that song - that song about that girl.' And I'd play it for him every now and then. After my brother's accident, we had 3 vinyl sides done of Peach, so I thought well we'll do that, and then on the way down there I wrote "Ain't Wastin' Time No More." I wrote that for my brother. We were all in pretty bad shape. I had just gotten back from Jamaica and I was weighing at about 156, 6-foot-1-and-a-half - I was pretty skinny. So we went back down there, got in the studio and finished the record. And the damn thing shipped gold."
Last Edited by tmf714 on Oct 13, 2013 3:05 PM
Listen to the words. The song is about a guy who's wife, or lover, Melissa, has died. He has lost his direction in life because of this and wanders the country as a hobo on trains. To wit: "Crossroads, seem to come and go... the gypsy flies from coast to coast... etc."
When the first verse says "back home he'll always run" it is figurative. It's referring to his imagination (which I'll demonstrate below).
Next verse: "Freight train, each car looks the same, no one knows the gypsy's name..." etc This is quite specific. Lots of people see him, noone thinks about him, nobody knows him as he bums around the country. At the end of this verse: "In all his deepest dreams the gypsy flies... with sweet Melissa"
Note the use of the word "flies". It's not "lies", or any other word. The use of the word "flies" implies she is an angel, that she is dead.
The bridge/middle section is just more description about him waking every morning and running to some other place for no reason just to escape his torment.
Now, the 3rd verse. "Crossroads, will you ever let him go?" Just an out-loud wondering of whether he'll ever break free of this depression and stop wandering, or will he just finally die one day and end this.
"Will you hide the dead man's ghost, or will he lie beneath the clay, will his spirit roll away?" This is a VERY cool, somewhat obtuse part. But here we are wondering if, when he dies, whether his spirit will be hidden forever, just buried in the ground, or will it be free.
And finally, the crowning line: "But I know that he won't stay, without Melissa".
In other words, whatever happens to his spirit when he dies, it will not stay anywhere if Melissa is not there. Even after death, he will forever be devoted to her.
------------- Songs like this, with such simple melodies and lyrics, that yet tell such complex passionate stories, don't come along every day.
Pinetop must of somehow out smarted that darn satan and bypassed the curse - he was 95 years old here, I think he lived to 98 :) He began his career as a guitarist, but then injured the tendons in his left arm in a fight with a choir girl in Helena, Arkansas.[citation needed] Unable to play guitar, Perkins switched to the piano
Perkins died on 21 March 2011 at his home in Austin. At the time of his death, the musician had more than 20 performances booked for 2011. Shortly before that, while discussing his late career resurgence with an interviewer, he conceded, "I can't play piano like I used to either. I used to have bass rolling like thunder. I can't do that no more. But I ask the Lord, please forgive me for the stuff I done trying to make a nickel."[citation needed] Along with David "Honeyboy" Edwards, he was one of the last two original Mississippi Delta blues musicians, and also to have a personal knowledge of, and friendship with, Robert Johnson.
Last Edited by Frank on Oct 13, 2013 6:27 PM
Speaking of Crossroads curses, every time the subject comes up, I think of Igor Stravinsky's work "L'Histoire du soldat". It is a very entertaining piece of music/theater about a soldier's deal with the devil that can be preformed with just a few people. Is anyone else familiar with it?
I reopened this post to hear about possible connections between Gregg Allmans great composition and Robert Johnsons life...........the mystical deal at the crossroads is a myth.....and bullshit not worth wasting time about
