FFWD Weekly
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Music by Jaime Frederick Fruteland Jackson is probably one of the few evangelists the non-denominational among us can tolerate. As a performer and as a music fan, he’s one of the most enthusiastic proponents of the blues you’re ever likely to encounter, and he’s at ease with all varieties of the mutable musical form to which he’s devoted his life. Whether it’s Piedmont, Delta finger-pickin’, cutting-edge gut bucket blues, or something in between, you can be sure that the Mississippi native has heard it and loves to talk about it. When he’s not performing at clubs and festivals all over North America, he also participates in a program called "Blues in the Schools" that brings his music and its varied traditions to a new generation of listeners. Combining music and storytelling, Jackson’s programs offer a vivid contrast to the dry, pedantic history lessons most of his students are accustomed to on a daily basis. "I see 15,000 students a day," says Jackson. "Nobody ever takes the time to talk to them about music. We tell them what they listen to that we don’t like or what’s too loud, but if you walk them through it, especially in middle schools before they get too commercialized, they light up, and they have a different respect and approach to the music. It’s not just some old guy talking about his woman left him." Jackson genuinely believes in the ability of the blues, and music in general, to bridge the differences between people. He also talks about the fact that music can provide some kids with options to move beyond the limitations of their social environment. He cites his involvement with the "Bluz in the Hood" program in Charleston, South Carolina, as one of the most worthwhile endeavours he’s ever undertaken. "I was dealing with what was termed ‘high risk’ students, but they were really inner-city kids, hard-core unemployables who probably wouldn’t go to college, and they were really affected by a criminal culture. We were teaching instruments and they were keeping notebooks, and they were learning something about history. Next thing you know, some of them turn out to be fine musicians and have something they can do that they can probably keep for the rest of their lives." Jackson was introduced to the blues in a somewhat less formal fashion by his grandfather and uncle, who were often present in the blues household in which he grew up. Although he got heavily into Motown in his teens, it wasn’t long before he rediscovered the music of his childhood years. "I found myself being attracted to field hollers and work songs because my Grandpa Willie used to sing field hollers. (At the time) we didn’t know what he was doing. We’d say, ‘Grandpa Willie’s talking to himself,’ and he’d be in the yard just singing away. Little did I know I’d come back to him and try to write those words down as he got older." Until now, in the spirit of family tradition, Jackson has always included at least one field holler on each of his discs in the spirit of family tradition. Still, it’s no surprise that there was no room for one on his latest recording, I Claim Nothing But the Blues, because it’s loaded with 11 of Jackson’s originals, mostly acoustic numbers featuring his excellent finger-pickin’ guitar work. "I like to take the old rhythms and then just put new topics (to them) because I didn’t pick any cotton, and I didn’t go through that Jim Crow stuff. I can talk about Vietnam and microwave ovens, and if my woman leaves me, she’ll probably take a 747 and not a train. The songs speak different but the rhythms are rich and I try to build on those and go from there." If music is one big continuum, Jackson has already established his place on it, but he also knows about the forms that have fed into the music he plays. "When I talk to young people, I always encourage them to listen to public radio, other musical styles. Don’t get so hung up on just one radio station. So much music is blues-based if you can trace it back and know how to listen." Ultimately, Jackson doesn’t care whether people come to the music via a mix by Moby or a scratch-happy track on the new R.L. Burnside CD, as long as they get there in the end. "What do I care what window they come through? Once we get them here, we’ll hit ’em with Big Bill Broonzy and Mississippi John, and all the rest. If they come in on a Johnny Lang or if they come in on a mix – fine. So many of us came in on the British rockers – my older sister had a Lightnin’ Hopkins album in the basement. There’s enough space for everybody." Fruteland Jackson better make space for a whole lot more – he’s in town Friday as part of the Performing Arts Centre’s Unplugged Blues series.

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