THE BLUES-4

South, by way of the colored boys in the C.C.C. camps, is the DUPREE BLUES, that sad story of a man who wanted to give his girl a diamond ring, but had none to give her, so he took his gun and went to the jewelry store where he instead of getting the diamond ring, he got the jewelry man, jail, and the noose.

The real Negro Blues are as fine as any folk music we have, and I'm hoping the day will come when Marion Anderson and Paul Robeson, famous concert singers, will include a group of Blues on their programs as well as the Spirituals which they now sing so beautifully.

A young dance in New York, already known as a dance of the South, is using the Blues as a background for the creation of dance forms. I see no reason why great dances could not be born of the Blues, great American dances containing all the laughter and pain, hunger and heartache, search and reality of the contemporary scene—for the Blues must have something that goes beyond race or sectional limits, that appeals to the ear and heart of people everywhere—otherwise, how could it be that in a Tobacco restaurant one night I heard a Louis Armstrong record of the ST. LOUIS BLUES played over and over for the crowd of Japanese diners there? You don't have to understand the words to know the meaning of the Blues, or feel their sadness, or to hope their hopes.

Troubled in mind, I'm blue,
But I won't be blue always:
The sun's gonna shine
In my backer someday.

Ladies and gentlemen, that's the Blues!

Langston Hughes

SONGS CALLED THE BLUES

by Langston Hughes

"The Blues! Songs folks make up when their heart hurts, that's what the blues are. Sad funny songs--too sad to be funny and too funny to be sad."

Thus one of the characters in the play, DON'T YOU WANT TO BE FREE, defines the Blues. Then he goes on to say that, "Colored folks made up the Blues. Now, everybody sings 'em. We made 'em out of being poor and lonely, and homes busted up, and desperate, and broke." For the Blues are folk-songs born out of heartache. Songs of the black South, particularly the city South. Songs of the poor streets and back alleys of Memphis and Birmingham, Atlanta and Galveston, out of black and beaten but unbeatable throats, from the strings of pawn-shop guitars, and the chords of pianos with no ivory on the keys.

The Blues and the Spirituals are the two great Negro gifts to American music. The Spirituals are group songs, but the Blues are songs you sing alone. The Spirituals are religious songs, born in camp meetings and remote plantation districts. But the Blues are city songs rising from the crowded streets of big towns, or beating against the lonely walls of hall bed-rooms where you can't sleep at night. The Spirituals are escape songs, looking toward heaven, tomorrow, and God. But the Blues are today-songs, here and now, broke and broken-hearted, when you're troubled in mind and don't know what to do, and nobody cares. The Blues are travelling songs, too, because they speak so often of going somewhere else.

There are many kinds of Blues. There are the family Blues, when a man and woman have quarreled, and the quarrel can't be patched up. Then there's the loveless Blues, when you haven't even got anybody to quarrel with. And there's the left-lonesome Blues, when the one you care for's gone away. Then there's the broke-and-hungry Blues, a stranger in a strange town. And there's the desperate going-down-to-the-river Blues

THE BLUES-3

the men, Lonnie Johnson is perhaps the finest living male singer of the Blues, although there's a portly fellow named Jimmy Rushing in Count Basie's orchestra who is a runner-up. And Lead Belly also must be mentioned.

The most famous Blues, of course, is the ST. LOUIS BLUES, that Mr. W. C. Handy put down one night on the corner of a bar on a levee street in St. Louis, and which has since gone all over the world. The ST. LOUIS BLUES is sung more than any other song on the air, is known in Tokyo and Buenos Aires, Paris and Berlin--in fact, is heard so often in Europe that a great many Europeans believe it to be the American National Anthem.

Less popular, but equally beautiful are the Blues, TROUBLED IN MIND, MEMPHIS BLUES, YELLOW DOG BLUES, and the never to be surpassed GULF COAST BLUES which begins with one of the loneliest lines in all the realm of song:

> The mail man passed but

> He didn't leave no news......

One of the newest authentic Blues to come up out of the South, by way of the colored boys in the C.C.C. camps, is the DUPREE BLUES, that sad story of a man who wanted to give his girl a diamond ring, but had none to give her, so he took his gun and went to the jewelry store where, instead of getting the diamond ring, he got the jewelry man, jail, and the noose.

The real Negro Blues are as fine as any folk music we have, and I'm hoping the day will come when Marion Anderson and Paul Robeson, famous concert singers, will include a group of Blues on their programs as well as the Spirituals which they now sing so effectively.

A young dancer in New York, Felicia Sorel, is already using the Blues as a background for the creation of new dance forms. I see no reason why

THE BLUES-4

great dances could not be born of the Blues, great American dances con-
taining all the laughter and pain, hunger and heartache, search and
reality of the contemporary scene--for the Blues must have something
that goes beyond race or sectional limits, that appeals to the ear and
heart of people everywhere--otherwise, how could it be that in a Tokio
restaurant one night I heard a Louis Armstrong record of the ST. LOUIS
BLUES played over and over for the crowd of Japanese diners there? You
don't have to understand the words to know the meaning of the Blues, or
to feel their sadness, or to hope their hopes:

Troubled in mind, I'm blue,
But I won't be blue always:
The sun's gonna shine
In my back door someday.

Langston Hughes

["in \"Olylon\"\n2 nd Jwarter,\n1941", "", "Draft -
Revised later", "SONGS CALLED THE BLUES", "An Article On Negro Folk Music\nby\nLangston Hughes", "\"The Blues! Songs folks make up when their heart hurts, that's\nwhat the Blues are. Sad funny songs—too sad to be funny and too\nfunny to be sad.\" Thus one of the characters in the Negro play, DON'T\nYOU WANT TO BE FREE?, ______ at the Harlem Suitcase Theatre, de-\nfines the Blues.", "Then he goes on to say, \"Colored folks made up the Blues.\nNow, everybody sings 'em. We made 'em out of being poor and lonely,\nand homes busted up, and desperate, and broke.\" For the Blues are\nfolk-songs born out of heartache. They are songs of the black\nSouth, particularly the city South. Songs of the poor streets and back\nalleys of Memphis and Birmingham, Atlanta and Galveston, out of black\nand beaten, but unbeatable throats, from the strings of pawn-shop\nguitars, and the chords of pianos with no ivory on the keys.", "The Blues and the Spirituals are two great Negro gifts to American\nmusic. The Spirituals are group songs, but the Blues are songs you\nsing alone. The Spirituals are religious songs, born in camp meetings\nand remote plantation districts. But the Blues are city songs rising\nfrom the crowded streets of big towns, or beating against the lonely\nwalls of hall bed-rooms where you can't sleep at night. The Spirituals\nare escape songs, looking toward heaven, tomorrow, and God. But the\nBlues are today songs, here and now, broke and broken-hearted, when\nyou're troubled in mind and don't know what to do, and nobody cares."]

BLUES-3

many great singers of the Blues, but the finest of all were the three
famous Smiths—no relation, one to another—Mamie Smith, Clara Smith,
and the astounding Bessie Smith. Clara and Bessie are both dead now,
and Mamie no longer sings, but thousands of Blues collectors in the United
States and abroad prize their records. Today a girl named Georgia White
carries on the old tradition of the Blues in the folk manner. And Midge
Williams, of the Louis Armstrong band, sings them in a more polished, but
effective way. Of the men, Lonnie Johnson is perhaps the finest living
male singer of the Blues, although there's a portly fellow named Jimmy
Rushing in Count Basie's orchestra who is a runner-up. And Lead Belly
also is to be considered.

The most famous Blues, of course, is the ST. LOUIS BLUES, that Mr.
W.C. Handy wrote down one night on the corner of a bar on a levee street
in St. Louis thirty years ago, and which has since gone all over the world.
THE ST. LOUIS BLUES is sung more than any other song on the air, is known
in Shanghai and Buenos Aires, Paris and Berlin—in fact, is heard so
often in Europe that a great many Europeans believe it to be the American
National Antnem.

The mail man passed but

He didn't leave no news...

Blues are still being made. One of the newest authentic Blues to
come up out of the South, by way of the colored boys in the government
work camps, is the DUPREE BLUES, that sad story of a man who wanted to
give his girl a diamond ring, but had none to give her, so he took his
gun and went to the jewelry store where, instead of getting the diamond
ring, he got the jewelry man, jail, and the noose.

BLUES-4

A young dancer in New York, Felicia Sorel, is already using the Blues
as a background for the creation of new dance forms. I see no reason why
great dances could not be born of the Blues, great American dances con-
taining all the laughter and pain, hunger and heartache, search and reality
of the contemporary scene—for the Blues have something that goes beyond
race or sectional limits, that appeals to the ear and heart of people
everywhere—otherwise, how could it be that in a Tokio restaurant one
night I heard a Louis Armstrong record of the ST. LOUIS BLUES played over
and over for a crowd of Japanese diners there? You don't have to understand
the words to know the meaning of the Blues, or to feel their sadness, or
to hope their hopes:

Troubled in mind, I'm blue,
But I won't be blue always:
The sun's gonna shine
In ma back door someday!

Langston Hughes

4

a man who wanted to give his girl a diamond ring, but had no way to give her, so he took his gun and went to the jewelry store where, instead of getting the diamond ring, he got the jewelry man, jail, and the noose.

The real Negro Blues are as fine as any folk music we have, and I'm hoping that the day will come when famous concert singers like Marion Anderson and Paul Robeson will include a group of Blues on their programs as well as the Spirituals which they now sing so effectively.

A young dancer in New York, Felicia Sorel, is already using the Blues as a background for the creation of new dance forms. I see no reason why great dances could not be born of the Blues. Great American dances containing all the laughter and pain, hunger and heartaches, search and reality of the contemporary scenes—for the Blues have something that goes beyond race or sectional limits, that appeals to the ear and heart of people everywhere—otherwise, how could it be that in a Tokyo restaurant one night I heard a Louis Armstrong record of the ST. LOUIS BLUES played over and over for a crowd of Japanese diners there? You don't have to understand the words to know the meaning of the Blues, or to feel their sadness, or to hope their hopes:

Troubled in mind, I'm blue!

But I won't be blue always:

De sun's gonna shine

In my back door someday!