....The director inexplicably allows Marshall Chess - whose father and uncle [Phil, who appears briefly in the film] started Chess Records - to dismiss the royalties issue in a few, glib lines. Marshall Chess describes the blues artists as childlike men who were interested only in Cadillacs and beautiful women, and who needed what he unfortunately describes as a "plantation owner" to look after their affairs. Certainly there is some truth to Chess's assertions, but his view is very skewed and the fact that it is left as the final word on the matter is disrespectful to the musicians, the music, and the truth. It also casts grave doubt on Marshall Chess's judgment, and as a result, the rest of his commentary, upon which the film is based.
What this film doesn't tell is that the story of the Chess brothers and their label burrows into the heart of such charged issues as art versus commerce and exposure versus exploitation - all tangled up in the miasma of race relations.
Lazer and Philip Chez, aged 11 and 6, were herded through Ellis Island on Columbus Day 1928 from their village near Pinsk, Poland, and transformed into Leonard and Phil Chess. They joined their father, who had been running a junkyard in a Jewish neighborhood near the South Side of Chicago. Their address, 1425 South Karlov Ave, provided the catalog number for the first Chess Records release.
Phil served in the Army during World War II. Leonard's childhood polio left him with a limp, ineligible for military service. During the war, Leonard pursued various business interests, including liquor stores and bars of less than stellar repute.
Eventually, Leonard moved up to the Macomba Lounge, an upscale jazz and blues club at the heart of the South Side. The club featured major national acts including Billy Eckstine, Ella Fitzgerald, Lionel Hampton and Louis Armstrong. The predominantly black crowds were regular and enthusiastic, and as label talent scouts sniffed around the back door, Leonard realized he could sell records as well as drinks to his customers.
Muddy Waters recorded "I Can't Be Satisfied" in April 1948 and the first issue sold out in 12 hours. Reeking of the country funk of the Delta, Waters' single is a violent shout into the void that laid the foundation of the Chess sound - heavy on vicious electric slide guitar, thumping rhythm and unadulterated blues wailing.
Leonard reportedly couldn't understand what Waters was singing in the studio, but he understood the sales and somehow knew the records sold because, not in spite, of the track's rawness.
Article comments
1 - Mark Saleski
interesting E, leaving the historical holes out of it...my favorite part really was the reunion segment of the Electric Mud band and the hip-hop thing.
oh well, to each his own.
2 - Eric Olsen
I like the music the band played both in the reunion and on the original Electric Mud record, but it didn't mesh with Muddy on the original, and it really sounded cobbled together to me on the new recording. the process was interesting, even fascinating, but the result didn't work for me. Perhaps more "bluesy" rappers than Chuck and Common would have made a difference.