Ma Rainey,
Willie M. Miller,
&
Moonshine Blues
from The Paramount Book of Blues
“The Mother of the Blues”, Ma Rainey, had a number of signature songs. Moonshine Blues was one of them. It’s a classic.
Because Moonshine Blues was recorded by Paramount in 1923 in Chicago at Rainey’s first recording session, along with a group of other high-quality songs, it is tempting to think that perhaps Moonshine Blues and some of the other songs were ones that she had already been performing in her live roadshows.
She certainly sounds comfortable recording this song.
Of course it helped that Rainey was backed by top-flight musicians that Paramount was then using when it needed a small jazz combo: “Lovie Austin and Her Blues Serenaders”. The group consisted of Lovie Austin on piano, Jimmy O’Bryant on clarinet, and Tommy Ladnier on cornet. As a woman who had led her own band for years, Rainey at her initial recording session was no doubt pleased to see another woman—Austin—in the roll of bandleader. In Blues and jazz circles of the day this was a rarity.
Three of the songs in The Paramount Book of Blues were composed or co-composed by Austin.
Interestingly, Austin remembered hearing Ma Rainey perform years earlier when Rainey’s tent show set up in Chattanooga where Austin grew up.
Austin and her friend, another young girl, didn’t have the price of admission so they sat outside listening to the wonderful music escaping the tent. The friend was Bessie Smith.
Many Blues of the 1920s remind us that Prohibition was then in effect, and drinking alcohol was simply another right of passage—albeit illegal— to enliven people’s lives. But not Moonshine Blues. It’s a groggy, “down on your knees” warning of the pitfalls of hard drink that, in turn, leads to lost love.
Listening to the verses could have the effect of keeping some of us sober:
Hold him Luke, he might be a bootlegger!
I’ve been drinking all night, babe, and the night before
But when I get sober, I ain’t gonna drink no more
‘Cause my friend left me standin’ in my door
My head’s goin’ ’round and around, babe, since my daddy left town
I don’t know if the river’s runnin’ up or down
But there’s one thing certain, it’s mama’s goin’ to leave town
You’ll find me wrigglin’ and a-rockin’, howlin’ like a hound
Catch the first train that’s runnin’ southbound
Oh stop, you’ll hear me sayin’ stop
Right to my brain, oh stop that train
So I can ride back home again
I don’t know if the river’s runnin’ up or down
But there’s one thing certain, it’s mama’s goin’ to leave town
Here I’m upon my knees, play that again for me
‘Cause I’m about to be a-losin’ my mind
Boys, I can’t stand up, I can’t sit down
The man I love has done left town
I feel like screamin’, I feel like cryin’, Lord
I’ve been mistreated, folks, and don’t mind dyin’
I’m goin’ home, I’m going to settle down
I’m gonna stop my runnin’ around
Tell everybody that comes my way
I’ve got those moonshine blues, I say
I’ve got those moonshine blues
Here is Ma Rainey singing Moonshine Blues.
On the Paramount record label for Moonshine Blues Madame “Ma” Rainey—under her real name “Gertrude Rainey”—was given exclusive writing credit for the song.
But something changed between the issuance of Moonshine Blues and the signing on April 24, 1924, of the royalty agreement below between the Chicago Music Publishing Company, through its president, M.A. Supper, and a second songwriter, Willie M. Miller.
The Chicago Music Publishing Company was Paramount’s house organ for copywriting and publishing songs recorded for the Paramount label. It was an incestuous business arrangement that didn’t benefit the musical artists.
In the 1920s, companies such as Paramount often played fast and loose with the rights of songwriters and recording artists, such that royalties could mysteriously vanish overnight, regardless of what agreements had been signed.
Who was Willie M. Miller? Miller may have been been a woman because under the signature of the signing witness there is a note stipulating: “(as to Mrs. Miller)”. It’s not likely that Miller was a member of Rainey’s touring band. The photos we have indicate that all of her musicians were male. An Eddie Miller may have recorded with Rainey in one of her last Paramount sessions, but no Willie M. Miller played on any pre-war Blues or jazz session. So Willie M. Miller is a mystery.
Miller, but not Rainey, signed this particular agreement, so it is fair to assume that before Miller showed her presence, Rainey had already signed an earlier agreement establishing her own royalty amounts. This second one may have, in fact, served to amend the earlier agreement to show that Miller also got her own share of the royalties.
Moonshine Blues would prove a big seller for both Paramount and Ma Rainey. In fact, it was so popular that the company would have her release an updated recording of it in 1927. The version of the song from her initial recording session made clear her great talent, plus the fact had she had great potential with the company. Rainey, in fact, would spend her entire five-year recording career making 78s —and money—for Paramount.
As to what royalties Paramount paid Rainey on this and her other songs it is not clear given Paramount’s creative bookkeeping, and a paucity of existing records. Mayo Williams, who discovered the singer for Paramount, and also served as producer in her recording sessions, admitted that nine out of ten of the company’s artists never saw a royalty payment.
Paramount, as well as other recording companies of the period, often encouraged its artists to accept a one-time flat fee per song rather than royalties. That was a “bird-in-the-hand argument”, attractive to poor singers, musicians, and songwriters. By paying out flat fee, unless a song sold poorly, Paramount would either break even or make money from not having to pay royalties.
Williams, a young, former football player and bootlegger, explained that under the Paramount business model it was accepted that “[you] had to screw the artist before he screws you.”
This wasn’t simply the case of White recording executives taking advantage of Black artists, because Williams, himself, was black. Many White artists fared just as poorly at Paramount. The dynamics that came into play revolved around the bargaining power of the record company versus that of poor, undereducated Blacks and Whites. It simply wasn’t a level playing field.
Perhaps Paramount was able to finesse the books to avoid paying any royalties to Ma Rainey. But that wasn’t likely. She was their top recording artist and made a lot of money for the company. Plus, she was a smart woman who had been in the entertainment business a lot longer than any of the Paramount executives she dealt with, and she knew what went on behind the scenes. Rainey, after all, was already thirty-seven—no spring chicken here—when she cut Moonshine Blues. She’d been in the entertainment business since she was fourteen and was experienced in its shady practices.
Furthermore, it was in the company’s interest to keep Ma Rainey happy and not cheat her —at least too badly—on her royalties, as long as she was generating income.
As for Willie M. Miller, however, it is doubtful if she realized much from the ink she added to her royalty agreement.
NEW PHOTOS!!!
Ma Rainey in Breckenridge, Texas 1922.
Note: All graphics and ephemera are from the Bowman collection.
