Back in the 1970s, shortly after his release from Angola State Penitentiary (where he’d served time following his heroin possession bust on the street outside the Dew Drop Inn), James Booker contacted me (“contact” being one of Booker’s favorite words) concerning the first of our many interviews. Booker was an ardent solicitor of publicity and felt that there should be—at the very least—weekly journalistic updates of his adventures. Forget about New Orleans’ 10,000 other musicians—James Carro...