[Dixielandjazz] Janes Booker & St James Infirmary Blues

[Stephen G Barbone]

Below from Matt Shedd's Blog March 24, 2011. Note the reference to St  
James Infirmary having roots in the time of Henry the Eighth in  
England circa 1532. (4th paragraph)

To hear James Booker's version of St James Infirmary go to: (vocal  
starts at 3:00)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h6DoLvwVJDM

Cheers,
Steve Barbone
www.myspace.com/barbonestreetjazzband

An alcoholic and a heroin addict throughout his adult life, James  
Booker died when he was 43 years old in a wheelchair inside a New  
Orleans hospital. Blues historian Keith Shadwick states he was still a  
prominent local figure at his death and “mourned among Jazz fans,”  
despite his final days, which Shadwick describes as a man   
"deteriorating on every level" (245).  But amongst blues enthusiasts,  
there's no question about Booker’s status: when he had it, he had it.   
One biography entry names him: “One of the most exciting, mercurial  
players in a long line of legendary piano professors,” claiming him  
alongside with Professor Longhair as one of the central New Orleans  
blues icons.  You've probably heard him even without knowing it, since  
he recorded a good deal of Fats Domino's piano tracks when Fats was  
busy touring.

James Booker  was the son of a Baptist preacher and grew up playing  
Chopin and Bach, and he kept playing in the classical style, but he  
mixed it with his own gospel-influenced, barroom blues tangled it into  
something else entirely.  You never know which way he’s going to lead  
you on any track. He'll be singing about how he wants his cocaine and  
his heroine on the side over some hard hitting straight forward number  
like "Junco Partner." But on the album's next track, "Black Minute  
Waltz," you hear a concert classical pianist--no vocals, just a  
recital. After the elegant performance, a crazed preacher comes on the  
microphone, and he's definitely stoned: "You may not believe me, but  
this song was written by a dude named Leadbelly [maniacal laughter].  
And Leadbelly and little Booker both had the pleasure of partying on  
the Ponderosa [more maniacal laughter]. You know what I mean, you  
dig?"  I'm not sure what kind of answer he’s expecting from that  
question, but then I realize, he isn’t expecting anything from  
anybody, and then he goes into a beautiful version of  “Goodnight  
Irene.” He did all the standards, but like you haven't heard them.

When you know he died waiting to be helped at a hospital, his version  
of “St. James Infirmary Blues” becomes more haunting.  Whether you  
know this or not, the song still stands on its own feet. Booker’s  
posthumous release of his version on 1993’s Resurrection of the Bayou  
Maharajah, recorded at the Maple Leaf Bar in the Carrollton  
neighborhood of New Orleans, sometime in the late 70s.

Some form of the song stretches back at least to 16th century England,  
the title referencing the St. James Hospital in London, “a religious  
foundation for the treatment of leprosy.” The hospital shut its doors  
in 1532, when Henry VIII bought the property to build the St. James  
Palace. Since then the song has lived a strange life. Countless  
versions have been recorded by artists ranging from Cab Calloway to  
Bing Crosby to Van Morrison to The White Stripes. Louis Armstrong’s  
1928 version remains the standard, however.  As it should be. It's  
certainly a unique recording from Ol’ Pops. It sounds like a slow  
funeral march through downtown when he sings it, and he punctuates the  
end with strange, bitter laughter--an oddity from the usually jovial  
Armstrong. According to Wikipedia, (by the way, it’s okay for people  
to admit that they use Wikipedia by now, right? Let’s end the charade;  
we’re all guilty here) the earlier forms of the ballad went on to  
become an 18th century traditional English folk song called ‘The  
Unfortunate Rake’ “about a sailor who uses his money on prostitutes,  
and then dies of a venereal disease.” “The Streets of Laredo” is  
another famous American interpretations of the story. The general  
theme of the song throughout its many manifestations is the story of  
judgment: “a youth ‘cut down in his prime’ (occasionally ‘her prime’)  
as a result of some morally questionable actions.” In the American  
stories, it’s booze and gambling.

The alignments between Booker’s performance and his biography are too  
many to be coincidental. The fatalism in the performance is too  
palpable for that; he knows he’s going to be cut down too. Booker  
found himself in the lonely hospital death he sang about, and that he  
was chasing down for reasons he didn’t understand.