A real player’s player, Paul Asbell has worked with Magic Sam, Howlin’ Wolf, Muddy Waters, Sonny Sitt, the Sun Ra Arkestra and more. He was even Trey Anastasio’s guitar teacher once upon a time.
“I began my gig career sitting in at blues clubs like Peppers’ and Theresa’s, which were near where I was living on the South Side,” he says of his start in Chicago. “I started getting calls to fill in, then I got hired full-time to fill those spots in working bands.”
Asbell straddled the line between blues and jazz in sessions and with his band, Kilimanjaro. “There’s far more chordal vocabulary within the jazz tune repertoire than there is in the blues repertoire,” he says. “It’s easy to spot a player who hasn’t spent years absorbing jazz vocabulary, who then tries to jump into those waters.
“I never wanted to be that guy. I spent years ’shedding jazz lines and learned a lot of jazz standards that I’d never been exposed to growing up.”
But he adds: “I never fell out of love with bluesy melodic expression, and the art of generating and digging into deep grooves. I never lost my love for expressive, soulful singing through the guitar – which is how I view the blues thing.”
Asbell recently published his memoir Stages: Ruminations, Rants, and Reminiscences on a Life in Music. As for what’s next, he says: “I kinda go where the gigs lead me. I’ll go for months playing all jazz and bebop gigs. Then I’ll find myself doing acoustic guitar gigs, playing what I call ‘steel string Americana. Then blues/funk gigs come up, and I’m off with .10s, instead of .12s.”
What inspired you to pick up the guitar?
“My dad was a professional folk singer and songwriter in the ’40s and ’50s. He toured with Pete Seeger, Woody Guthrie and other figures of the time. So there was always a guitar being played around the house. By age 11, I wondered if I could get anywhere with it. 65 years later, I’m still working at exactly that!”
Was there a moment when you felt like you’d found your sound?
“The sounds that grabbed me first were by Mississippi John Hurt, Lightnin’ Hopkins, Leadbelly, Blind Willie Johnson and Doc Watson – acoustic sounds. People don’t usually talk about ‘finding your sound’ in the world of acoustic guitar, since the tonal spectrum is not as wide as electric guitar, where pickups, amps, and FX are factored in to ‘finding your sound.’”
When did the electric guitar come into play?
“I started shortly after hearing Hoodoo Man Blues by Junior Wells in 1965. There was a guitarist listed as ‘Friendly Chap.’ It wasn’t long before I found out that was Buddy Guy, and I was hooked. Otis Rush and Earl Hooker came shortly after. I was only 16 when I heard them – they all lived just a few blocks from me.”
What was it like working with Muddy Waters?
“Truth be told, I never was in Mud’s band. I was hired by producer Norman Dayron to play rhythm guitar on the Fathers and Sons record, since my buddy Jeff Carp and I were playing in Sam Lay’s band at the time.
“Sam, of course, was somewhere between son and father – he had mentored me and Jeff in Muddy’s music, but he viewed himself as a son in relation to Muddy and Wolf, who he played with for many years before being hired by Paul Butterfield.”
How about Howlin’ Wolf?
“Actually, I was never in Wolf’s band either. But I was hired to play on the London Howlin’ Wolf Sessions. The producer, Norman Dayron, hoped to run a similar play to Muddy’s Fathers and Sons, this time using British icons like Eric Clapton, Stevie Winwood and Bill Wyman.
“When the tracks made their way back to Chicago, it became clear that some of them needed a bit of work – and some needed a lot of work. In the latter category was I Ain’t Superstitious, which had a nice slinky feel, and terrific vibey Strat part played by Clapton. But there was no excitement building.
“Dayron wanted Jeff Carp and me to build a horn part that became progressively more dynamic as the track developed, which we did. But then we realized that, around two-thirds of the way through, Clapton's guitar part was being overshadowed by the horns. If the horns had already been there, Clapton would have risen to the occasion and played lead fills to answer the dynamic horn lines.
Magic Sam had the voice, the guitar skills, the showmanship, and the looks to hit big
“Since we were in Chicago, and Clapton was in London, I was tapped to fill in the spaces. At around 2:40, my licks are clearly audible until the end of the rideout a minute or so later. Dayron didn’t want to deflect from the British heavyweights, so I was given credit in the ‘special thanks’ section, next to Ahmet Ertegun, Mick Jagger and Robert Stigwood. The music biz can be a bit messy sometimes!”
What was it like working with Magic Sam?
“Sam was a powerhouse rhythm-and-lead-all-at-once player, who I was in awe of, like all my friends. I was quite surprised when I got a call from him to play rhythm guitar on 63rd St. Playing behind him was a masterclass in how to simultaneously be a bandleader, dynamite vocalist and killer entertainer, all rolled into one package.
“He had the voice, the guitar skills, the showmanship, and the good looks to hit big nationally. He’d have done exactly that if he hadn’t passed away at the ripe old age of 32. I’ve always said that Robert Cray, who possesses all those qualities in abundance, stepped into the slot that would have been Sam’s.”
What’s the story behind your work with Lightnin’ Hopkins?
“When I was 13, I discovered Lightnin’ on a 78 record that my dad had, and fell instantly in love. I listened to him constantly, and eventually I could play just like him, and I’d completely assimilated his irregular time, feel and meter!
“Most players are so ingrained to hearing the 12-bar blues structure that they can’t step outside of it to hear the storytelling. Since I’d spent literally hundreds of hours listening to him, it felt totally natural to me.”
On the R&B side, you’ve worked with Donny Hathaway. How did your gear and approach change from playing blues?
“One day in 1969 one of my all-time heroes, Pop Staples, asked me to play on a recording session he’d arranged downtown. We did one rehearsal at his house in South Shore before the session itself. Rufus Reid and Donny Hathaway were there – I’d met them while working at Curtis Mayfield’s Curtom Studio.
“At the time, I was pretty broke; I didn’t have a closetful of guitars and amps. I think I had a Gibson ES-295 and a 1955 Fender Tele. I used a ‘blackface’ Fender Super Reverb for pretty much all my gigs – that was the accepted amp of choice for all my heroes at the time. Guitar straight into the amp; nobody I knew was using pedals back then.”
Once you moved to Vermont, you worked with Big Mama Thornton and Sonny Stitt.
“After I made the move, I was out of the music scene for about 10 months. I got a call from a friend to put a band together to back Big Mama Thornton at Goddard College. It was probably the most hilarious clash of cultures and dress codes that I’ve ever been a part of in my 60-year career!
With Sun Ra Arkestra, things might turn into something unplanned at any moment
“Several years later, after I’d been digging deep into the language of jazz standards and bebop harmony, I was asked to back up Sonny Stitt. He was a chopmeister and a total master of the Charlie Parker bebop idiom. I did a lot of ’shedding in the weeks leading up that five-night run. Talk about intimidating!”
Your band, Kilimanjaro, served as Paul Butterfield’s backup band.
“It was a pretty cool touring setup were hired to be The Paul Butterfield Blues Band, but we also got to play an opening set of our jazz-oriented original tunes. At the end of our last tune, I would play a Bo Diddley-style rhythm guitar intro, Paul would hit the stage, and we were off and running as the PBBB that everyone had come to see.
“The whiplash of jazz into blues really caught people off guard – but once they figured out what was happening, they really dug it! I was using my trusty original ’59 Fender Bassman amp and a Strat-style Roland guitar.”
One of your credits is with the Sun Ra Arkestra.
“Sun Ra had passed by the time I did those gigs, and trumpeter Michael Ray was the bandleader. He was looking for musical energy, quirkiness and bold expression from his players, combined with the idea that things might turn into something unplanned at any moment. A good lesson – ya gotta pay attention at all times!”
What led you to finally unpack your life and write your book, Stages: Ruminations, Rants, and Reminiscences on a Life in Music?
“It started with me writing little and not-so-little pieces on Facebook, in order to celebrate my musical heroes’ birthdays. I’d include a personal anecdote or two from my history with the artist. Sometimes those anecdotes wound up suggesting a deeper meaning and resonance than I’d originally set out to write.
“I realized I was doing something with words that I had spent most of my life doing with notes, chords and tones – painting a picture and telling a larger story. It’s become a habit at this point; one that I can’t seem to kick! People started commenting, ‘So, Paul, when’s the book coming out?’”
After going through your memories, what was most apparent about your life and career?
“My former guitar student and now good friend, Trey Anastasio, wrote something for my book that I really liked. I hadn’t consciously realized until he wrote it that my connection to the history of the music – which I always took for granted – would be apparent to someone much younger than myself.
“Writing the 32 essays that wound up being the book has given me a more conscious awareness of how important the history of the music I love has been to me – and, hopefully, to others. I suppose it comes out whenever I play, even if I don’t realize it at the time.”
- Stages: Ruminations, Rants, and Reminiscences on a Life in Music is out now via Phoenix Books.
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