There’s a reason you will likely hear “Walking to New Orleans” more than once during this year’s Jazz Fest. Fats Domino’s 1960 top-10 pop hit evokes the desire to come back home to the Crescent City better than any other song. And for the thousands who were flushed out of town by the Army Corps of Engineers’ failed levees, the sing-along refrain echoes their own longing to return.
At first listen, the song sounds like a simplistic blues, but on closer inspection it reveals itself as a miracle of songcraft. Both the catchy melody and the rolling rhythm suggest the ambling gait of someone walking down Highway 90 from Abbeville towards the city; both the impatient lyrics and the bouncy tune reinforce the sense of a homesick man anxious to get back.
Though the writing credit was shared with Domino and producer Dave Bartholomew, “Walking to New Orleans” is primarily the creation of Bobby Charles, who may well be the best American songwriter most people have never heard of. People haven’t heard of him because he never had a top-40 pop hit under his own name and because he has spent most of his life lying low on the Louisiana Gulf Coast. But most of us have heard the songs he wrote—titles such as “See You Later, Alligator,” “Tennessee Blues,” “The Jealous Kind” and “But I Do” have been recorded by dozens of different artists.
These are just the tip of the iceberg for Charles’ deep, impressive catalogue. His melodies have a tendency to bounce along merrily until they take a sudden, excited leap up the scale. His infectiously syncopated rhythms borrow from both the 6/8 triplets of 1950s New Orleans R&B and from the push-and-pull two steps of his native Acadiana. His lyrics always feature the kind of catch-phrase that boils down some aspect of human experience to a handful of words that stick in the mind.
Charles emerges from his usual seclusion to make a rare appearance at Jazz Fest on Saturday, April 28. In addition, the festival will feature many artists who have recorded at least one Bobby Charles song: Dr. John, Buckwheat Zydeco, the New Orleans Social Club, Clarence “Frogman” Henry, Sonny Landreth, Warren Storm, Zachary Richard, Don Rich, Tab Benoit and Shannon McNally.
Robert Charles Guidry was born in Abbeville, Louisiana, on February 21, 1938. When he was 14, he was so captivated by the sounds of Fats Domino on the radio that he formed a high school band called the Cardinals and translated the local slang for goodbye, “See You Later, Alligator,” into a song.
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The tune became so popular locally that a Crowley record shop owner phoned Leonard Chess at Chess Records in Chicago to tip him off. Chess quickly signed Guidry, sent him to New Orleans to record the song and told him to shorten his name to Bobby Charles. It was only when the rechristened teenager finally flew to Chicago that the startled Chess realized that Charles wasn’t black but rather a white Cajun.
Charles eventually recorded 18 sides for Chess, a dozen more for Dave Bartholomew at Imperial Records and scattered singles for Hub-City, Jewel and Paula. But he never liked the road, and he made enough from his songwriting royalties that he could hide out in the Louisiana bayous or upstate New York and write more songs. Aside from anthologies of his early singles, he has only released four albums of new material in half a century as a professional musician. But the real story of Bobby Charles’ achievement is not the records he made but rather the songs he wrote. Here are the half-dozen best:
“Walking to New Orleans”
Domino had already recorded Charles’ song “Before I Grow Too Old” when the pianist met the songwriter in Lafayette. Domino invited Charles to come hang out in New Orleans, but the Cajun kid replied that he was so broke that “about the only way I could get there right now would be to walk.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Charles grabbed a pencil and paper and wrote “Walking to New Orleans” in about 20 minutes.
The song became the first Domino single to feature a string chart, and it marked his final crossover from R&B to pop. Despite the strings, however, the bluesy foundation of Domino’s music can be heard in Charles’ repeating lines, 6/8 triplets and blue-note harmonies.
The original single can be found on the indispensable four-CD box set, They Call Me the Fat Man: Antoine “Fats” Domino—The Legendary Imperial Recordings (EMI). That set also includes another Charles co-write, “It Keeps Rainin’,” a #23 pop hit for Domino in 1961. Charles’ own version of “Walking to New Orleans” can be heard on the 2006 anthology, An Introduction to Bobby Charles (Fuel). Charles and Domino sang a duet version of the song on the 1995 album Wish You Were Here Right Now (Stony Plain).
When Dr. John joined the New Orleans Social Club on last year’s album, Sing Me Back Home (Burgundy), the song he picked to sum up his feelings about his post-Katrina hometown was “Walking to New Orleans.” Buckwheat Zydeco recorded the song on his 1985 album, Waitin’ for My Ya Ya (Rounder). David & Roselyn recorded it for their 1999 album, New Orleans Style (DaRo). The song has also been recorded by Michelle Shocked, Brenda Lee and zydeco legends Rockin’ Dopsie and Fernest Arceneaux.
“See You Later Alligator”
When Bobby Charles released his first single, “See You Later, Alligator,” photos of rock ’n’ roll singers were hard to come by. So it was understandable that DJs and listeners assumed from Charles’ Deep South rasp and firm grasp of blues syncopation that he was African-American. And because his label, Chess, lacked the muscle to put the song on the pop charts, it was inevitable that a major label would recruit an established white singer to re-cut the song for those charts—much as Pat Boone had done when he re-recorded songs by Little Richard, Fats Domino and the Flamingos.
Bill Haley, though, was no Pat Boone. Haley’s roots were in hillbilly swing bands, so when he made the switch to rock ’n’ roll, he had a sure instinct for the new music’s groove and abandon. He broke open the pop single charts for rock ’n’ roll when his “Rock Around the Clock” held the top spot for eight weeks in 1955. Haley was a better singer than Charles and a year later he belted out “See You Later, Alligator” with an authority that bounced off the hypnotic horn riff and set up the frenzied guitar solo. Haley’s version went to No. 6 on the pop charts and to No. 7 on the R&B charts, eclipsing Charles’ high-water mark of No. 14 on the R&B charts.
Charles’ original single can be found on the anthology, Chess New Orleans (Chess/MCA). A later version, featuring Charles’ vocal and slide guitar by Sonny Landreth can be found on the 2003 album, Last Train to Memphis (Rice’n’Gravy). Zachary Richard recorded the song on his 1990 album, Bon Ton (Rounder). The song has also been recorded by British pub rockers Dr. Feelgood, Freddie and the Dreamers and the swamp-pop legend Rod Bernard.
“Tennessee Blues”
In 1970, Charles moved to Woodstock, New York, unaware that it had become a music Mecca. Before he knew it, he was jamming with members of the Band and Paul Butterfield’s Better Days and was recording a solo album, 1972’s Bobby Charles (Bearsville) that featured his new friends. The Band’s Rick Danko co-produced the project and co-wrote the album’s only single, “Small Town Talk.” The project received the rave reviews it deserved but sold poorly. Charles stayed in Woodstock for a while, and appeared on two Butterfield albums and the Band’s The Last Waltz.
The most enduring song from Bobby Charles was “Tennessee Blues,” a near-perfect song of yearning for escape from a bad situation. Backed by Garth Hudson’s fluttery accordion and buoyed by a swooning melody, Charles sang with a dreamy ache of a house by a lake far from everything that had gone wrong in Tennessee. Since then, the tune has been done every which way. Tommy McClain and Johnnie Allan cut swamp pop versions, while Kris Kristofferson and Tompall Glaser cut outlaw-country versions. Doug Sahm did it as Tex-Mex, J.D. Crowe as bluegrass, and Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown as blues.
Among the performers at this year’s Jazz Fest, Don Rich recorded “Tennessee Blues” on his 2002 album, Come Back to Me (Jin). Shannon McNally recorded it on her 2005 album Geronimo (Back Porch).
“But I Do”
In 1960, after he was unable to follow up the success of his 1957 smash “Ain’t Got No Home,” Clarence “Frogman” Henry looked like another one-hit wonder. But Chess Records was willing to give him one more chance and turned him over to 22-year-old genius Allen Toussaint, who had just produced Ernie K-Doe’s “Mother-in-Law.”
Toussaint was desperate for material, so when Charles showed up with a batch of songs, Toussaint decided to use them all. The key tune was an older song, “I Don’t Know Why,” that Toussaint renamed “But I Do” to avoid confusion with the standard “I Don’t Know Why I Love You Like I Do.” Nat Perrilliat played the honking sax intro, and Henry warbled the romantic pledge over a classic New Orleans shuffle and horn chart.
“But I Do” jumped up to No. 4 on the pop charts, much higher than his first hit, and established the singer as a long-term entertainer. The original single can be heard on the 1994 anthology, Ain’t Got No Home: The Best of Clarence “Frogman” Henry (Chess/MCA), a collection that also includes five more Bobby Charles compositions.
Charles’ own version of the song is on his 1998 album, Secrets of the Heart (Stony Plain). Warren Storm recorded the song for Huey Meaux’s Crazy Cajun label in the 1970s. The song has also been recorded by Tom Jones, Freddy Fender, Ronnie Milsap, Marcia Griffiths, Charley Pride, Dobie Gray, Tommy Roe and the Walker Brothers.
“The Jealous Kind”
Charles wrote “The Jealous Kind” in the early 1960s, but he could never convince anyone to record it until Joe Cocker included it on his 1976 album, Stingray. As soon as people heard this slinky, midtempo confession of the green-eyed curse, they recognized it as an R&B classic. There was something about the way the push-and-pull of the lyrics—the singer knows he shouldn’t be jealous, but he can’t help himself—was reinforced by the push-and-pull of the rhythm. Ray Charles recorded it in 1977, Delbert McClinton in 1980, Etta James in 1989, and Johnny Adams in 1993—great versions all.
“Ray Charles told me one time it was one of his favorite songs to do live,” Bobby Charles said on his Secrets of the Heart album. “He always got an audience reaction out of it, because there wasn’t anyone sitting in there who wasn’t jealous of something.”
Charles’ original demo of the song is included on An Introduction to Bobby Charles; a later version featuring a Sonny Landreth guitar solo can be heard on Last Train to Memphis.
“Why Are People Like That”
When Paul Butterfield, Levon Helm and Garth Hudson helped Muddy Waters record his Woodstock Album (Chess/MCA) in 1975, they convinced the Chicago blues giant to kick off the disc with “Why Are People Like That” by their Cajun pal. It couldn’t have taken much convincing, for the song is simultaneously the sharpest social satire and down-and-dirtiest blues that Charles ever wrote. Over Butterfield’s snarling harmonica, Helm’s stabbing drums and Hudson’s bleating organ, Waters’ bottomless baritone bellowed, “They take your house and your home / they take the flesh from your bone / they take the shirt off your back. / Hey, how come people act like that?”
The track launched the best album of Waters’ late career. The song was so impressive, in fact, that no less than three of Waters’ former band members—Junior Wells, Luther “Guitar Junior” Johnson and Bob Margolin—all subsequently recorded the song as did Gatemouth Brown. Tab Benoit recorded it on his 2006 album, Brother to the Blues (Telarc). When Charles recorded it himself on Last Train to Memphis, Derek Trucks played the lead guitar.
