One Last Jam

B.B. King wasn't thinking about Chicago blues clubs when he wailed, "The thrill is gone." But it certainly could apply. Six ways to revive a fading cultural art form

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4. Open a world-class blues museum

Buddy Guy's mission these past few years has been to see a blues museum open in Chicago in his lifetime. (There is a small private museum in Bridgeport run by blues collector Gregg Parker, but it is currently closed.) "I just want it done," Guy says. "It doesn't have to be a big thing; I just want it to be Chicago recognizing the guys that made it what it is." Guy says he already has investors interested (plus superstar friends agreeing to headline benefit concerts); he's just waiting for city officials to show the same kind of interest they did in bringing corporate giants like Boeing here, courting the Olympics, or promoting the fashion industry. A South Loop location would be ideal, especially if it bordered the Illinois Central tracks, the same route that brought the Southern blues here in the 1930s and '40s. Considering that the city is home to a Polka Music Hall of Fame, a blues museum doesn't seem like a stretch.

 

5. Free Chess Records

Ground zero for Chicago blues history is the Chess Records building at 2120 South Michigan Avenue, where pioneers Muddy Waters, Little Walter, Willie Dixon, Howlin' Wolf, and even rockers like the Rolling Stones recorded their seminal sides. The Blues Heaven Foundation owns the building, but, although named a Chicago landmark in 1990 and honored with a plaque, it rarely opens its doors. Chess should be as visible as Wrigley Field and as accessible as Sun Records and Motown, both national recording treasures and major tourism sites for their respective hometowns, Memphis and Detroit. Elvis Presley fans still flock to Sun to stand in the same room in which he recorded "That's All Right"-so crowds would certainly seek out Chess, where, that same year (1954), Muddy Waters declared he was a "Hoochie Coochie Man."

 

 

6. Promote it loud, promote it proud

Visit the Web site for the city's office of tourism and there is hardly a mention of Chicago blues. "It's not viewed as a priority," says Chicago harmonica master Billy Branch. Recent acknowledgments such as a sign in front of Muddy Waters's house and the 50-minute downloadable blues tour are encouraging, but the city's tourism office has never launched a full-blown campaign to promote Chicago as a major blues metropolis. Statues, honorary street names, parks, and a wave of historical markers would be a good start. So would a campaign to return live blues back to the street. (Today, live street blues is something you only occasionally hear in places like the parking lot of Wallace's Catfish Corner at 2800 West Madison Street.) But what better way to get tourists-and locals-out to the neighborhood clubs than a city-sponsored blues trolley? Operational on weekends, the trolley could bring new faces to off-the-beaten-path institutions like Lee's Unleaded Blues, Rosa's Blues Lounge, and the New Checkerboard Lounge. Although a few private companies offer these services for hire, the city could park a few trolleys prominently on Michigan Avenue and offer hotels cut rates to get their customers onboard. Not only would revenue flow in all directions, but it would help give respect to a style of music still operating today. "People already tend to think of the blues as old," says Branch. "So let's do something to change that and let people know it's still alive and people are still actively playing it, and playing it well."