Originally published in the Baltimore Blues Society "Bluesrag"
Interviewer: Bill Camp
The old saying states that the most fun to be had can be found in your own
back yard. The adage can be applied to music as well. Maryland native Tom
Larsen has been playing the state and the entire east coast for over 22 years,
increasing a solid fan base due to a constant touring schedule. A breakthrough
came in the spring of 2001, when he and his band were invited to play the
Chesapeake Bay Blues festival, along with George Thorogood and Jonny Lang.
My first Larsen gig dates back to circa 1980, when he would play at the Washington College campus coffee house. Not only did the guitar playing blow the roof off, the performance matched it note for note! While playing, he would walk on the bar, into the ladies room and strut around outside, never missing a lick. Since those days, the skinny guitarist has bulked up from a strict weight training and power-lifting regimen, playing the role of performer and bouncer simultaneously.
The Baltimore area may not have the musical wealth of Chicago or New Orleans,
but with Tom Larsen playing his Rickenbacher and Gibson all over the region,
we can’t complain too much.
Q: You were originally inspired by the acoustic blues of Robert Johnson and Blind Willie McTell. What about the music attracted you?
A: A good number of people of my generation, musicians and fans alike, got
into the blues by listening to the rock bands of the 60s who played blues
material, like the Stones, Cream, etc. I heard a lot of that music but at
the time, I liked folk music. Along with Pete Seeger and Woody Guthrie there
were blues musicians like Leadbelly and Big Bill Broonzy who were part of
the folk music revival in the 50s and 60s. I really liked the acoustic blues
guy and being the inquisitive type, I started searching out records of the
generation before them, that they learned from.
For example, Leadbelly was a “lead boy” for Blind Lemon Jefferson and cited
him as a major influence. Well, when I got a hold of my first Blind Lemon
record, that was it. That music hit me really hard
– it was honest, direct and real, and it was just one guy with one guitar.
I felt the same way about Robert Johnson – the depth of emotion really spoke
to me, the women, the hard living, the traveling – it was right up my alley.
It was how I felt. I already lived that life and had hitchhiked across the
country several times, riding in box cars, played music in the streets, worked
at odd jobs, fought forest fires out West and hustled to stay alive. Blind
Lemon is one of my favorite lyricists and I learned how to play slide from
the old Robert Johnson “King of the Delta Blues” records.
Q: Gospel was also influential, particularly in your vocals. Tell us about that period when you assembled your band out of the church.
After a long period of rambling, having lived in Austin, Texas, Santa Fe,
New Mexico, New Orleans and Prescott, Arizona, I knew that I wanted to play
music as a profession. I also knew that I needed to do some serious woodshedding
and really get my technique together. I came back to the Eastern Shore and
started putting in six and eight hour days practicing. I had a decent repertoire
of acoustic blues by then and that’s what I played when I did gigs. By this
time, I had also gotten into electric blues and liked Freddie King, Elmore
James and especially Guitar Slim. There was no “blues scene:” on the Eastern
Shore, no resident old-timers to learn from, no bands to jam with and no videos
or instruction books at the local music store, I had to teach myself by listening
to records. I was taking some music courses at the University of Maryland,
Eastern Shore in Princess Anne, a predominately black school that used to be
Maryland State. I heard there was an opening in their gospel choir for a guitar player
and since I needed to get out and play my electric in public, it was good for me at the time.
I was raised in the Methodist Church but that was pretty tame with just an organ for accompaniment. These folks had organ, piano, bass and drums. Drums in church – that was
a new one for me, and they were getting’ down! The really cool thing about
it was that I was exposed to some great singing. We did appearances in black
churches around Maryland, Delaware and Virginia and I got to see the Gospel
Keynotes, The Mighty Clouds of Joy, the Consolers, Shirley Caeser and the Five Blind Boys of Alabama. The vocal styles
inspired me to work at being a vocalist in my bands (I had originally wanted
to be a back-up in someone else’s band.)
I also came to appreciate good preaching. A good preacher is like a jazz
musician: they state the theme, embellish it, riff on it, take it all over
and build things up to a fever pitch, then jam the message on home. By that
time everybody feels the spirit and is “getting happy.” Quite a bit different
from the church background I came from and it was quite an experience. I’d
like to think that our shows (Tom Larsen Band) have some of that energy and
intensity that can leave an audience drained but satisfied. I eventually
got out of gospel music because I didn’t feel I was living the life that went
with playing the music. I made some good friends among the musicians and
most of my bands always had black members – those were the guys I knew and
started out with.
One of the first full electric blues gigs I ever did was with Pipsi and Reesy
James, a couple of my gospel buddies. We used to jam blues in Princess Anne
in the back of the “colored” barbershop, and word got around. Their aunt
was having a class reunion and they had us come play some blues. It was the
class of ’53 and since the schools were segregated back then, this was the
black class of ’53. It was really a treat for me to be up playing B.B. King
and Jimmy Reed and having a dance floor full of people jitterbugging and doing
the stroll, etc. That gig brought home to me in a very real way that this
music is not some dry, historical stuff from some old archives; it was and
still is party music that was meant to be danced to. I never forgot
that and in all my bands, I’ve always worked at making the music danceable.
We were a big hit at the reunion and had a lot of fun . As usual, I was the only white person around for miles
but I was used to it by then and it certainly didn’t matter to them. There
used to be a lot of discussion back then (the 70’s) about whether white people
could play or sing good blues. Some of that still exists today, believe it
or not, but that comes almost entirely from white people. I call them the
Blues Police. They’re people who, for some reason, consider themselves qualified
to determine what is and what isn’t “real blues”, how it should be played
and who should play it. Later for them. I never got any of that from black people
and I’ve played for many black audiences over the years. If it’s real and you really
fell it and live it, that’s what counts and that comes across and you get over. If
you’re just “frontin’” that shows, too.
Around that time, I was doing my solo act over in Ocean city at the original
Talbot Street Café and thought I’d spice things up one night by bringing in
bass and drums. Talbot Street was a sit-down and listen place at that time,
but we changed all that. When Pipsi, Reesy and I launched into some Elmore
James the place erupted! Everybody jumped up, knocked tables over and started
to boogie! A light came on in my brain and in that instant, I saw my future.
Instead of playing acoustic guitar in coffeehouses, I’d play electric blues
in places where there was a dance floor. That was how I could be a musician
and earn enough money to live on. Pipsi and Reesy had other commitments but
I soon put together another trio. I had been working at a factory in Fruitland,
MD and it paid well, but I made the ballsy move to quit and make a go of it
as a full-time musician. The Tom Larsen Blues Band was off and running in
June of 1979. While I’m not rich (and nobody left me any money) I can say
that I’ve made a full time living playing music for almost 23 years.
Q: Establishing a career in the blues was difficult in the late seventies, when disco, new wave and punk were proliferating. To set your band apart from other blues performers, you added bass players with a funky groove, and drummers that did much more than keep a beat. How did audiences respond to that?
To continue the story line, I now worked on putting a trio together and working
up a repertoire. I had an idea of doing a lot of classic electric blues and
selecting the more uptempo numbers from B.B., Albert, Muddy, Junior Wells,
etc. I also wanted to keep things true to the originals and sound close to
the records. As I mentioned, there were no blues clubs around my home territory
and to hear live blues I had to drive all the way over to D.C. to catch Son
Seals at the ChildeHerolde or Muddy at the Bayou. I used to see Roomful of
Blues when Duke Robillard was with them and I loved that approach. When they
played a T-Bone song or a Guitar Slim tune you could hear the scratches on
the record! Very true to the original, and I wanted to do something along
those lines. However, it didn’t work out like that. This was the seventies
and in my area, nobody knew any blues. The rock guys might play an Allman
Brothers tune off “Live at the Fillmore” or something, but they didn’t get
blues at all. I used to get a lot of flack about playing blues because I
wasn’t good enough to play rock. On the Eastern Shore, if you couldn’t play
Skynyrd note-for-note and didn’t play the current
cover music, you weren’t doing shit. At least the black guys knew from playing
in church that there is a time for playing different grooves in different
music, so I had a starting place to build on. If I said, “Make this one ‘down
home’”, or “make this one ‘fatback’” etc., they got it. But these guys were
also into everything from Parliament/Funkadelic to Earth, Wind, and Fire to
Jaco Pastorius and Stanley Clark, so if I said, “Make this one funky,” it
came out funk! Either way, nobody cared about listening to old records to
cop the tune as it was originally played and my idea of doing a close copy
went out the window. The important point was that I had talented musicians
to play with and my trio was on the way. When we went to play, the fact that
some of our grooves were more contemporary helped us get people’s attention
and keep them dancing. I went on to accept this mix of styles and eventually
embrace it and write around it. Aggressive rocking drums with slap/pop/funk
bass mixed in with my blues guitar and harp became my signature sound, and
that’s still true today.
In the early days the drinking age was 18 and a lot more clubs had bands
on a lot more nights. I pieced together a circuit from Virginia to New York
and we played 25, 29 and even 30 nights a month. I did all the bookings myself;
I had to, because all the regional agencies worked with cover bands and we
didn’t fit in with that scene. Typically I’d wake up around noon and grab
the phone and do bookings and promotion until around 4:00, grab a shower and
head out to the night’s gig. That was the daily routine, over and over: bookings,
drive to the gig, do the show, pack up, drive to the next gig, crash, get
up and do bookings, etc. All that work meant that I could offer my band members
a chance to go full time with no day job, which is every musician’s dream.
That right there got me some great musicians over the years. It also helped
to give them plenty of room to shine an display their
talent and not just keep them in a background role. All my guys get solos
throughout the night. I got that from the jazz guys I knew. Back in the
70s I did a record with Joe Byrd, the stand-up bassist in his brother
Charlie’s band. His record was jazzy blues, kind of like Moses Allison, and
I played harp on it. I’d go hang out and hear Charlie Byrd trio play and
each member of the band took a solo on every song. I don’t take it that far
but rhythm section solos have always been a part of my shows and it’s one
of the things we’re known for. It’s not about the “Wonderful TL” showcasing
his mighty talent and taking endless guitar or harp solos on every song.
To me the band is the instrument and the overall sound the unit puts out and
how it moves the audience is the point. We’re all in it together and without
the support of the guys that have played with me over the years, I wouldn’t
have made it this far. I started out pretty raw and I’ve learned something
from every one of them. Everyone in the band contributes ideas and it’s always
been that way.
My parents’ generation came up in the Swing Era and I used to think it was
quaint when one of their friends would describe my profession as “bandleader”.
Their frame of reference was either classical or big band and I guess they
thought I was Tommy Dorsey or somebody, touring with an orchestra. Funny
thing is though, in a way it wasn’t far off. I’ve put together some really
tight bands over the years and I’m really proud of my guys and what they’ve
accomplished. Typically they play with me for four or five years and go on
to form their own groups. Some years back I was headlining a small blues
festival in Delaware that had five bands in it, and each band had members
who used to play with me. That’s pretty cool. I do occasional band booking
on the side and I only work with guys I used to have in my band. I know they
are professional, show up on time, stay sober and put on a good show.
I’ve been asked many times over the years why I don’t add a horn, keyboard or another guitar. Coming from a background of playing solo and having to carry the whole show alone, to me, having bass and drums is like having a whole orchestra. We’re known for having a full, fat sound for three guys and I’ve never exhausted the possibilities of what can be done with a trio. I still find this format challenging and exciting.
Getting back to your question about how it was starting out, it was tough.
I’ve lived through all the musical trends from the seventies until
now. There was country rock, southern rock, disco, punk, new wave,
urban cowboy, heavy metal, big hair rock, alternative,
grunge, etc. etc. with me out there playing blues. I did get gigs at some
places where blues was accepted like Charlie’s West Side in Annapolis and
No Fish Today and later the Fat Chance Saloon in Baltimore, but mostly we
were out there in the rock clubs, going toe-to-toe with all the popular bands
of the day. For example, I had one of the only blues bands to every play
the old Hammerjacks, the hard rock capital of the
east coast. We did four or five SRO shows with Johnny Winter in the 80s.
I developed my performances in that environment, and with a nod to Guitar
Slim, that’s where I added the 200 foot guitar cord with me walking around
the club playing slide with beer bottles, chairs, tables, etc., walking out
into the parking lot and throwing snowballs – whatever it took to get people’s
attention and keep it. The band played aggressively and I was aggressive,
taking the blues out to a rock audience that knew little or nothing about
blues. One night we‘d be playing at a college frat party, the next night
we’d be at a yuppie G. Q. blahblah bar, the next at a headbanger
(heavy metal) bar, the next at a redneck roadhouse or backwoods fire hall
dance; the next at a beach bar in Ocean City, all the while playing music
90% of the people had never heard before. I played in gay-owned discos in
the 80s and played so many biker functions that the police in my own state
heard I was a member of the Pagans. All the prostitutes, strip club dancers,
drug dealers, and heavy characters of all descriptions knew and supported
us. We were outside the mainstream and so were they and they recognized us
a fellow misfits. We played up north regularly and
had a following up in New York. Some of the “wise guys” knew us too. Vinnie Pastore (starred on “The Sopranos” and many other gangster roles) had a nightclub in New Rochelle, NY and we were favorites there. After hours we’d go out to some pretty heavy places that I can’t go into.
Although we had a big cult following we never managed to break nationally.
Some people didn’t dig us because we weren’t rock enough and of course, the
Blues Police dissed us because we weren’t traditional. But I have no apologies
to make; my blues reflected and reflects the time and place I came up in.
This isn’t 1955, I’m not from Chicago or Mississippi and I’m not going to
pretend I am. While I’m on the subject let me put it in print once and for
all: to the Blues Police I say that Muddy came up to Chicago playing like
Robert Johnson, but to adapt to his new time and place he went electric.
He developed a new style and did what he needed to do to take the blues to
the people and get over. That process is the true “blues tradition” – learning
to play by studying the masters who came before, adding your own personal
style and coming up with something your own. Blues is rooted in tradition,
but it evolves. That is what I’ve done and I’m proud of it –I got my own
groove.
One of the coolest memories was crossing paths with Booba Barnes once in Virginia Beach. We were booked on a Thursday night and were all set up and kicked back eating dinner before the
show. In walks Booba and his band, who were scheduled for Friday night. They’d had a cancellation, and being out on the road a long way from home, they decided to blow in early
and hang out, jam and maybe build up some advance buzz for their show on Friday.
After some friendly introductions and musician chit-chat the club manager
came up to me with a proposition: Booba and his band wanted to open for us. They open for us?!? I said no, if anything we should open for them. This guy is the real deal, has been around forever
paying his dues, owns his own juke joint in Mississippi and plays all over
– it didn’t set right with me that they open for us. I was voted down however
– the guy that pays you always wins. Booba and his guys did a set of raw blues that was really great, with Booba wandering around the room playing harp. He did a Howlin’ Wolf imitation that was spot-on. They really did a number on the crowd then we went up and turned up the heat from the first tune and played our hottest stuff, all ours because by then (late 80s) we were playing mostly originals.
When we came off for the break the guitarist from Booba’s band was very enthusiastic and talkative. What he said ranks up there as one of the best compliments I’ve ever gotten:” You don’t sound like nobody! We play shows and festivals, all over the country and over in Europe, and
when you hear other bands you can always tell who the guitar player learned
from; one guy sounds like BB, one sounds like Albert – you don’t sound like
nobody ! Keep on doing it your own way, ‘cause you got something there.” That was great encouragement at the time and it helped me to keep going during tough times.
Being different has meant a long, hard haul, but now it’s starting to pay
off. These days a lot more people know about blues; there are blues bands
all over the place. (In fact, a lot of the rock guys who used to put me down
in the 80s for playing blues now have blues bands! ha ha!)
Being different now makes us stand out and sets us apart from everyone else,
and that’s a good thing.
Q: Slide playing is a talent that isn’t seen as much as it was a decade ago. What inspired you to pick up a bottleneck?
As I said earlier, I picked slide from the old Robert Johnson records. Once I figured out that he was using a different tuning for slide (open G), it started to come together. I worked at it until I could do some of his tunes fairly closely. When I later moved into electric slide and started working on open D tuning my background from acoustic slide made it easier to pick up on Elmore James, Hound dog Taylor, etc. I heard a lot more music in my head than those guys played and I worked for quite a while on the technique that would enable me to play what I felt inside. Slide is very comfortable for me and I probably express my wild side best there. Whatever rep I have as a guitar player is usually tied up with slide. I play acoustic slide on a metal body dobro I got in the 70s and I play electric on an old SG junior. The SG is great because it has a double cutaway and I can play really high notes on it when I feel like taking it up there.
My slide has a pretty cool story to it. It’s a bottleneck from an actual bottle of wine. I bought
the wine in a liquor store in Dallas, Texas just because I thought the neck would make a good
slide. I broke the bottle and ground the rough edges off on a sidewalk curb.
What amazed me was that when I put the slide on my pinky to see how it fit,
there was an imperfection in the glass that I hadn’t seen when I bought it.
It was a little ridge or edge in the glass on the inside and it lined up exactly
with the last joint of my pinky, securing the slide like a handle. It was
an exact fit, like it was custom made for me. I call it “the slide from God”
and I knew that I was destined to play some rowdy slide with it. Of all the
bottles in that store, and all the stores in the world, I chose that one;
and of all the ways that bottle could have broken off, it broke just right.
It was a gift – it was meant to be. With all the whacked out playing I’ve
done over the years, that perfect fit has kept the
slide on securely. Slide on!
Q: Your songs have been covered by Johnny Winter, Delbert McClinton, Roy Buchanan and Tinsley Ellis. Has that helped solidify a reputation on the blues scene?
I’m not sure how widely known I am nationally. We’ve played in Boston, Buffalo and Memphis and people always show up and know who we are. The songwriting has certainly helped. When I first started out Alligator was one of the only blues labels around doing current artists. I sent them some songs hoping to get signed. We weren’t traditional enough (sound familiar?), but Bruce Iglauer liked my writing and took some of the songs to his artists. That’s how Johnny Winter ended up recording “Looking For Trouble” on the “Winter of ‘88” release. That was a real thrill for me because Johnny was one of the guys whose records I worked out on guitar with. His acoustic slide on one of his first albums on a song called “Dallas” was just blazin’, when he recorded my tune it put me on the map as a songwriter and was a real honor. I’ve done a whole bunch of shows with him over the years, the last one in the mid-90’s up in Scranton, PA. He took me on the tour bus after the show and said, “Keep on doing what you do – you’re one of my favorite guys.” That was intense.
As far as songwriting goes I have a lot of tunes that would be great for other artists and I should try harder to get them out there. I haven’t sent Bruce anything for a while although he has said it’s always welcome, He’s still trying to interest people in “Too Old to Rock and Roll.” Tinsley Ellis recorded it with Duck Dunn on bass and Tom Dowd producing but it didn’t make it on the last CD. I enjoy coming up with new tunes and that’s all we play when we do gigs. People know my music and request their favorites by name. That’s a great place to be as a songwriter and you can’t ask for much more than that.
As to why we’re not a national act that is a question I get a lot and there’s
no simple answer. Too much, too soon, wrong place, wrong time, it’s hard
to say. I don’t make excuses. Too blues, not blues
enough, too progressive, whatever. Doing all originals puts us even further
into the “where-the-hell-do-we- put-them?” category. The other reason is
one I’ve never mentioned in an interview because I’m very protective of my
private life. I’m a single dad and have a 15 year old son that I’ve raised
since his mom split when he was two. Although opportunities came up, I passed
because it was important to be there for him. I didn’t want my wife to go,
but there was nothing I could do about that. But I was damned if I was going
to give my son up. I had to go to court and fight for him but I got a good
lawyer and won 50/50 custody back in the days when men typically got only
visitation. I stayed on a circuit that was 3 to 5 hours away so I could get
home and take care of the home routine every Monday. It’s difficult being
out on the road with a nighttime schedule from Thursday –Sunday and then getting
up at 6:30 during the week to get him to school, but we make it work. Now
that he’s older I’m able to travel more and I’m staying on top of the business
so when the next break comes we’ll be ready to roll.
Q: Give us your opinion of the state of blues today, and the direction you want to take.
The current state of the blues is very positive. There are lots of blues festivals, blues societies forming all over, more clubs running blues and more people playing blues than ever before. It’s great to see the younger people getting into it and more women too. There’s room for everybody. The traditional-oriented groups provide the important function of keeping the older styles alive in a live setting. The houserockers are coming from a more rock direction and are out there raising hell. The progressive guys are updating the blues with R&B and making the music more contemporary.
As for myself, I’ll continue on the path I’ve always been on, which is to do all three styles. The mix depends on the audience we have. Every show we do has some down-home, traditional tunes and definitely some rockers mixed in. But I’ve always leaned towards the progressive side and the tunes I’ve written for our upcoming CD are definitely expanding the boundaries of blues with fresh grooves. A songwriter’s best workshop is a live audience and if the response we’re getting is any indication, we’re onto something hot. I’m working to get the music out to more people by playing more festivals. Closed the show on the 2nd stage on Saturday, May 18th at the Chesapeake Bay Blues Festival; that was the first step. We’re being flown out to a big festival at the California-Oregon border in September to headline the Friday night show and that’s cool to go nationwide. We’re ready for it, and finally, I think the blues world is ready for us.