Ray Bonneville: One-Man Bard

Bonneville: “… a barker tryin' to fool ya into a late night club”

Ray Bonneville’s Blues:

One-Man Bard with

Plots on The Line

by Jamie Jobb

Grow up hearing enough bog-bound beats of Deep South boogie woogie, and our ears eventually attune themselves to certain styles of guitar pickers who sonically align themselves with those two-handed piano players. Nimble-fingered folks, they all forge their own peculiar sliding-scales onto those slow ox-bow bends of that wide and meandering river known as “The Blues.”

Thumb pickers – aka “slack-key” or “slide” guitarists – were particularly revered in Dixie all along Big Muddy Mississippi for the rolling twang that sprang from their strings and rang from their broken bottlenecks¹.

Indeed, some of these players are enshrined in The National Thumb Pickers Hall of Fame in Muhlenberg Kentucky, where Merle Travis grew up and got credit for developing the style, along with Chet Atkins. However, Merle and Chet did not “invent” thumb picking. No way! As early as 1920, open-tuned slack-key techniques were becoming an ingrained outgrowth for setting string-tension on parlor guitars – those small instruments strung so they’d be heard in close quarters without amplification in a time when radio was nowhere portable.

Three decades later, some of us listened religiously to fabled WLAC radio in Nashville – fifty thousand watts of pure Tennessee Valley Authority power found at 1510 on the AM dial. From the 1940s into the 1970s, the station was de facto rhythm-and-blues world headquarters. That was long before anybody’d heard from a California cool-cat named “Wolfman Jack”.

Broadcast historians note that WLAC’s nightly R&B programming laid down solid roots for the pre-emergent American rock-and-roll audience of my youth. We could hear the TVA amplitude-modulated signal loud and clear in Ohio, Virginia, Alabama and Miami -- a steady steam-engine roaring through the night.

WLAC’s “conductors” on that night train were its well-worn disc jockeys – John Richbourg, Gene Nobles, Bill “Hoss” Allen and Herman Grizzard. Richbourg, as “John R”, was the station’s utmost loud-and-clear late-night DJ whose signature shout-out was “Whoa! Have mercy honey, have mercy!”

Many southern radio DJs who mimicked the silky-smooth patter of WLAC’s crew learned to roll in that very same groove throughout the 1960s. Miami’s notorious “Nighthawk” woke soul station WMBM right at midnight when he'd begin to shout all night into the stiff tropical breeze: “Have mercy, baby … it’s the Nighthawk. It’s together!”

Filtered through our transistor radio tin-can speakers came the basic chords and simple tunes of Jimmy Reed, John Lee Hooker, Lightnin’ Hopkins, Howlin’ Wolf, Muddy Waters, Mississippi John Hurt, B.B. King, Bo Diddley, Otis Redding … all of whose records we could purchase on 45 rpm vinyl if we made proper postal/cash arrangements with the station’s regular sponsors – Randy’s Records of Gallatin, Tennessee; Ernie’s Record Mart and Buckley’s Record Shop of Nashville. This was four decades before anyone had a PayPal who offered music on line.

* * *

The Heat & The Beat

Although he doesn’t use a thumb pick and he’s yet to be inducted into Muhlenberg, Ray Bonneville stands tall among thumb pickers. Born a French Canadian and one of nine siblings, his family moved from Quebec to Boston before he became a literate delinquent teenager struggling to learn a new language. Another 30 years rolled by before he’d ever write his own songs, although he’d been covering other people’s tunes – in French and in English – most of his life as lead guitar/vocalist in a variety of bands during his youth.

Ray made musical ends meet with gigs as Marine recruit, Vietnam Vet, flight instructor, bush pilot, taxi driver. He credits all those cabbie hours for fostering his harmonica habit as he taught himself to play between fares.

Bonneville continued to develop his own road-worn slack-key blues as he roamed from Boulder to Alaska to Seattle to Paris to Arkansas … eventually settling in New Orleans in the 1980s and steeping himself for a spell in The Crescent City’s musical gumbo before Katrina blew him back out of town.

Although he lived there only a short period of his life, it’s clear Bonneville’s musical heartbeat became deeply embedded into The Big Easy: “There’s something about the heat and humidity that makes people slow down. New Orleans is where I learned to take my time, to allow space between the notes so the songs could truly groove.”

Ray Bonneville searches for the space between the notes …

Based in Austin now for over a decade, Bonneville plows his Texas grooves too. His nimble riffs remind my ears of another fleet-fingered Austin picker, James McMurtry. And as do most Austin journeymen who settle there for its convenient central location, Ray tours frequently -- wandering throughout the US, Canada and Europe. He was racking up over 150 shows a year until he was stalled this spring by world-wide pandemic stage shutdowns.

The demise of our local music hall, Armando’s, has reduced our chances see this touring troubadour back in town performing up close and personal with his unique show. We’ll have to drive to Winters or Marin County to see him play the next time he tours these parts.

Aside from writing and singing his own tunes with that well-weathered voice, Ray simultaneously plays guitar, rack harmonica and stomp box – becoming a virtual one-man band – if not a one-man bard – alone on stage.

Here’s how Bonneville describes his solitary sound: “My thumb became my bass player and my index finger became my lead guitar and rhythm player. My feet became my drums and, with my harmonica and my vocal, that made for a four-piece blues band.”

Within his songs, Ray’s lyrics crack wise as they embed themselves into snappy chords and rolled riffs sliding under that distinct and ever-present train-airhorn-in-the-distance moan of Bonneville’s mouth harp. Nobody plays harmonica like Ray Bonneville, indeed it’s a breath-taking experience just to listen. Underneath it all is the steady forward march of Ray’s amplified stomp box beating under his shoes.

Ray’s albums further enhance the sonic experience of his songs with the addition of brilliant session musicians Gurf Morlix/Brad Hayes/Will Sexton/Colin Linden on guitar; Geoff Arsenault/Rick Richards/Andre Bohren/Mike Meadows/Bryan Owings on drums; Nick Connolly/Richard Bell/Richie Lawrence on keyboards.

Both times we caught him at Armando’s, Bonneville was accompanied by Lawrence, a California-based former band mate. And like many musicians who are old pals on stage, they relish their banter between songs, with short joke riddles like: “Two guitar players in the back seat, who’s driving?” … I tried to catch much of that patter in this playlist where that riddle gets answered.

It’s clear that Ray’s work enjoys a vibrant life outside nightclubs. Indeed his songs should be heard as crystalized short-stories, each line reduced to its most poignant spark of insight. Ray’s lines whiz past our ears like Cherokee arrows … whoosh! That was close!

“I said ‘I do’ to a highway, what was I thinkin’ of?”

or

“sharp grit in a crosswind took the name off the sign”

or

“I'm a wild tchapatoula, a dice-rollin’ judge
I'm a barker tryin' to fool ya into a late night club”

Other long-form songwriters – particularly Bob Dylan and Mike Scott of The Waterboys – write thick texts which seem more like novels when aligned aside the clipped tunes of Ray Bonneville.

The quickest way to dig Bonneville is to dive straight into his lyrics. His words leap off the page. Telling details line themselves up in a flash, each line itself a short story within the short story of the song. Ray twists his lines to etch-a-sketch his life as he passes the world by, the fleeting poet in flight. Songs of love, of loss, on the road with no boss. His work demands repeat listening to add it all up.

If you’ve never heard Ray sing, then a treat awaits below as we look closely at the lyrics of a half dozen tunes Ray wrote which showcase his storytelling chops. As each tune appears almost as its own one-act play, it’s difficult to imagine anyone else covering Ray’s songs … they’re so dang personal.

* * *

Tender Heart

Here’s a recent tune on Bonneville’s “At King Electric” album which quickly showcases his jump-cut shorthand lyrics. A story based on close-cropped shards of a breakup seen in “the slanting light”.

if the yellow smoke residue on these walls could talk

would it tell about the time you came in here so lost

with no way to change the past, what could you do

you played that one song over and over on the juke

it went ...

Easy,

See how easy,

see how easy

a tender heart can break

although she never let on what she was feelin’

every little thing about her told ya she was reelin’

on the table by the door in the slanting light

lay the napkin she scrawled on and left behind

(chorus)

so you rode the long haul swayin’ all through the night

thinkin’ somehow you could leave it all behind

even as you tried to shake off the memory

you knew down inside it would never let you be

(chorus)

* * *

Sabine River

From his “Goin’ By Feel” album, here’s a woeful Lone Star road song Ray wrote about an empty gas tank, a rebellious hitchhiker, an East Texas river, a freight train on the horizon, fallen dominoes and a reckless brother who “never stood a chance” … As his harmonica chases the Santa Fe in the distance, what more is there for Ray to say?

she was leaned against the wall
by an uptown market stall
she had defiance all in her eyes
you could tell she was alone
and had seen a hard road
yeah she knew something about fallen dominoes

low on gasoline
on the road to New Orleans
the Santa Fe cuts the low sun on its way to Houston
the last cars fade away and gone
and the Sabine River flows on

she told me she was stayin’ in the French Quarter
over by Esplanade
said she'd come down from up north after goin’ round back and forth
lookin’ for love not knowin’ what it was she said
it's no surprise I was
tellin’ myself lies

(chorus)

I asked her who it was in the picture on her bureau
she said “That’s my brother
we were very close
he lost his life bein’ reckless the way young men do
he never stood a chance,
thought he was bullet proof”

(chorus – repeats)

* * *

Darlin’ (Put Your Suitcase Down)

From Ray’s “Bad Man’s Blood” album, here’s another brief but dramatic short story – a lover’s spat that starts inside a scene of immediate tension … “Send the taxi driver away!”

darlin' put your suitcase down
darlin' put your suitcase down
didn't mean what I said
I was out of my head
darlin' put your suitcase down

send the taxi driver away
say it was a mistake
please don't go
down that road
send the taxi driver away

if you leave me here alone
blues are gonna kill me slow
the lights’ll go dark in my soul and my heart
my blood will cease to flow

I’ve gone and made you blue
I know it's nothin’ new
I'm foldin’ inside not knowin’ why
I've gone and made you blue

I know I should’ve known
seen this comin' on
but I was blind
out of my mind
I'm scared to lose you now

darlin' put your suitcase down
darlin' put your suitcase down
I been a fool, but I’m askin’ you
darlin' put your suitcase down

I been a fool, but I'm askin’ you
darlin' put your suitcase down
put it down
put it down

* * *

Who’s There Talkin’ to Me

Despite the despair of his road-weary love tunes, Bonneville somehow seems to find a bit of whimsy in his wanderlust. That blithe spirit is captured exquisitely in this tune from his “Roll It Down” album. The song also captures that strange and reckless feeling known to anybody who’s ever had any kind of near-death experience.

I felt the ghost of trouble leavin’ town

a backdraft rumble on a silver greyhound

can’t say for sure now, lookin’ back

‘bout a strange new feelin’ that I had

a voice said “man get your things

get up off them old box springs

got somewhere to go

ya ain’t been there before

some kind of thirst for somethin’ more”

who’s there … who’s there talkin’ to me

who’s there … who’s there talkin’ to me

who’s there talkin’ to me

the sign said this is where the road ends

on the back side it read it’s where it begins

I walked into a painting by artist unknown

nobody was waitin’ I kept on goin’

I drew clear water from an old stone well

up from the bottom came the voice again

(chorus)

there once was a road to here

I can tell

it’s almost overgrown

but not quite yet

bracken tangle around me feet

night time fallin’ it’s gettin’ hard to see

I passed by a graveyard while headed east

everybody there was restin’ in peace

so thank you very much whoever you are

for letting a fool such as me get this far

(chorus)

* * *

I Am The Big Easy

Bonneville hails from Quebec, lives in Austin, but knows his heart’s in New Orleans. It has to be for Ray to write “I Am The Big Easy” – Folk Alliance International Song of the year 2009. Here, in verse, he captures the Crescent City spirit after Hurricane Katrina upended the town. Ray nails the big story, catching that moment as accurately as long-form authors of two great books on the same beat: Chris Rose’s “1 Dead in Attic” and Tom Piazza’s “Why New Orleans Matters”.

I was born on the edge of the big muddy flow
my daddy was French, my mother creole
I'm slow and heavy underneath the sun
but I'm more than willin’ when the night time comes
I'm a well known street, I'm a marchin’ drum
I'm a dancer, a preacher, a sophisticated bum
I'm a wild tchapatoula, a dice-rollin’ judge
I'm a barker tryin' to fool ya into a late night club

I am the big easy I been hit by a storm
brought to my knees have mercy lord
I got soul I got heart
all alone I'm comin’ out of the dark
I am the big easy

I'm a craw fish boil, a funeral parade
I'm a little boy listenin' to the music play
I'm an old man dancin’ to the second-line beat
I'm a young girl tryin’ to catch mardi gras beads
I'm a shotgun house, an uptown street car
I'm a big wheel steamer by a full loaded barge
I'm a blues band, a politician
A shoeshine man, I'm a famous musician

(chorus)

when my levee broke and the water came in
I heard a lot of folks call it the end
but you'd be mistaken if you thought me done
I am the big easy I'm the only one
all my children and all their kin
they go on livin’ like they always been
no matter what happens don't you count me out
they call me new orleans I'm the heart of the south

(chorus - repeats)

* * *

Who Do Call The Shots

Most singing songwriters have more than a few tunes tucked into their back pockets devoted to that fabled lonely life of misery and heartache found everywhere On The Road. But few of these writers sing directly about the actual road itself.

four hundred miles of dark road on this no-mercy night

lie-tellin' shadows tryin’ to fool my eyes

I said “I do” to a highway; what was I thinkin’ of

she's mean, full of spite and she goes on and on

who do

call the shots out there

who do

gonna hear my prayer

ridin’ a line thin as a razor between eternities

used-up luck against a long-cold sleep

pills and gas-store coffee wreckin’ my insides

I got a loose bolt rattlin’ in the back of my mind

(chorus)

pourin’ out of a green dial low down true

singin’ straight to me like she knew my blues

I read your letter again fallin’ down inside

you knew damn well I was the gypsy kind

sharp grit in a crosswind took the name off the sign

my eyes are fallin’

will I make it through the night

(chorus)

* * *

Special thanks for help on research, recall and preparation of this article: Art Crummer, T-Bone Davis, Ken “Snakebite” Jacobs, Charlie Hickox, Roy Jeans, Dana Guzzetti, Bill Hester, Robert Kourik, Scott Coddington.

Video captures of Ray here are from my footage shot at Armando’s.

Links

Purchase Ray Bonneville’s music (with listening samples):

https://raybonneville.com/music

My Ray playlist from Armando’s concerts – songs, patter, jokes and sound checks:

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLAakX6a7lwFS-AMJ7s7zrDPu2CDzKCEOm

When clubs reopen: Ray’s tour schedule, from his own website:

https://raybonneville.com/shows

Ray’s wiki:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ray_Bonneville

Watch Bonneville’s fingers work close up on “Who Do Call The Shots”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u5JCa ybv7J4

(4:42)

Thumb Pickers Hall of Fame

http://www.americaslibrary.gov/es/ky/es_ky_thumb_1.html

Brief history of parlor guitars:

https://acousticguitar.com/parlor-guitars-a-brief-history-and-a-2020-buyers-guide/

Feature based on recent gig at The Palms in Winters, CA

https://www.dailydemocrat.com/2019/01/07/ray-bonneville-richie-lawrence-bring-grit-and-soul-to-winters/

Solid piece in Vintage Guitar magazine for details on Ray’s preferred axes and amps:

https://www.vintageguitar.com/20563/ray-bonneville-2/

WLAC as a musical groundbreaker:

https://www.britannica.com/topic/WLAC-Nashvilles-Late-Night-R-B-Beacon-1688503

and

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/WLAC#Late_night_rhythm_and_blues

WWOZ in New Orleans has replaced WLAC as The Music Radio station with disc jockeys connected deeply to current and past talent.

Bonneville’s albums are available on his website, but they can also be purchased at these great brick-and-mortar record shops:

Waterloo Records

600A N. Lamar

Austin TX 78703

512-474-2500

Louisiana Music Factory

421 Frenchman Street

New Orleans LA 70116

504-586-1094

Down Home Music Store

10341 San Pablo Avenue

El Cerrito CA 94530

510-525-2129

Down Home also offers this incredible musical history of American roots music compiled on location by Chris Strachwitz and Arhoolie Records (the collection is now in the Smithsonian): “This Ain’t No Mouse Music”.  

1If you read that last verse aloud in a “southern accent”, y’all’ll find the line’s inherent rhymes.