Houston, we have the Blues: Resilience of a musical movement

Long before Houston became synonymous with Beyoncé, rap, hip hop, R&B and Gospel, the city was one of the most important blues capitals in America.

Venues and dance halls in the Third Ward, Fifth Ward, Frenchtown and Sunnyside once anchored Black cultural life. Houston nurtured generations of musicians whose influence stretched far beyond Texas.

Sam “Lightnin’” Hopkins, Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown, Big Mama Thornton, Bobby “Blue” Bland, Grady Gaines, Texas Johnny Brown, and countless other artists helped define a distinctive Gulf Coast sound. Rooted in migration, working-class struggle, church traditions, and storytelling, these musicians have paved the way for the Houston blues scene we hear today.

Yet despite that legacy, blues musicians in the city say many Houstonians today remain unaware of the city’s place in blues history.

Houston Blues Society board member Sandra Harper Scott, blues musician Leonard “Lowdown” Brown, and 2023 International Blues Challenge winner Mathias Lattin told the Defender that Houston may have lost parts of its blues heritage, but music lovers still take great pleasure in engaging in blues-only gigs and festivals, in an attempt to preserve the niche blues culture.

“When the artists, the listeners, or the purveyors of this genre of music fail to tell the stories and tell them consistently in the media or in schools, then it is filtered, watered down and unfortunately forgotten,” Scott said. “Overall, the city of Houston, for whatever reason, even with our arts population, arts community, just has not done a good job of making our blues history stories known, not just in the city, but beyond the city boundaries.”

For Lattin, however, Houston’s problem is not a lack of history but, instead, a failure to elevate it. 

He said that bar owners who genuinely love the blues would dedicate a blues night. But those intending to “sell drinks” and a lucrative return on their investment would not.

The irony is that Houston’s blues credentials rival those of cities more commonly associated with the genre.

During the mid-20th century, Houston became a major destination for Black Southerners leaving rural communities for industrial jobs. Those migrants brought musical traditions from Louisiana, Mississippi, East Texas, and beyond.

Their experiences blended into a sound that was distinctly Houston, influenced by country blues, gospel, jazz, zydeco, and rhythm and blues.

The city’s neighborhoods became incubators for musicians whose recordings would travel nationwide.

At the center of that ecosystem was Don Robey’s Duke-Peacock empire.

Operating out of Houston’s Fifth Ward, Peacock Records and the Bronze Peacock Ballroom became among the most influential Black-owned music institutions in America. The label recorded artists, including “Gatemouth” Brown, Big Mama Thornton, Bobby Bland, Junior Parker, and many others, while also maintaining a renowned gospel division.

“Even Duke Peacock’s is definitely forgotten,” Lattin chimed in.

The fading visibility of Houston blues is an erasure from both its historical memory and the disappearance of physical spaces where the music once thrived

Leonard Brown, who has lived in Houston since 1981, remembers a much different landscape, with ‘blues-friendly’ venues.

“When I did move here, the blues scene was a lot bigger,” Brown said. “There were more venues…a lot of the venues have also disappeared. So there aren’t as many places to play.”

He added that some musicians left Houston entirely in search of greater opportunities elsewhere, while many owners lost their venues during the COVID-19 pandemic due to financial hardships.

H-town’s blues scene now

Brown said Houston’s history of blues started when Black people migrated to the city in the 1940s and 50s, moving from an agricultural society to an industrial one, and settled in historic neighborhoods like the Third Ward, where the Eldorado Ballroom was established in 1939. Most took to the blues to escape the widespread racism they faced in the deep South.

The Ballroom The ballroom became a popular venue for the Black community’s music, especially blues and R&B, operated entirely by African Americans. It hosted national legends such as B.B. King, Ray Charles, and James Brown, and local stars such as Arnett Cobb and Jewel Brown.

In many ways, blues music told the stories of the struggles of newly freed slaves. Although Jim Crow laws and the Ku Klux Klan posed significant barriers to the community’s economic self-determination, blues arose from rare moments of leisure.

Club Matinee and the Bronze Peacock, Houston (now called the Houston House of Blues), transformed the city’s music culture, providing platforms where musicians honed their craft and younger artists learned from more seasoned performers. With the loss of these venues, musicians also lost opportunities for mentorship.

But, blues cannot be lost, Scott said. Even the younger generation, who may not be able to immediately name older blues artists, have heard their music at family barbeques and house parties.

“Those kids who have grown up have heard those songs before; it’s not new to them,” she said. “Blues has always been interjected in the Black culture in our neighborhoods, just like gospel music. That’s how it continues to perpetuate.”

Those who play the gigs now

Lattin, who was born and raised in Houston and graduated from the High School for the Performing and Visual Arts, described learning directly from veteran musicians at local venues.

“I would see John Del Toro Richardson perform every Wednesday night and I would get up there and jam,” he said. “I would learn from people like Larry Evans, who used to play with ‘Gatemouth.’”

He recalled growing up around musicians connected to Houston blues royalty, including Milton Hopkins, cousin of “Lightnin’” Hopkins. Without places where musicians regularly interact, that transfer of knowledge becomes more difficult.

“If they’re not in those spaces, then it’s hard for that music or their music style to be carried on or perpetuated,” Scott said.

Lattin noted that digital platforms have altered the way people discover and learn music. While technology offers new opportunities, it can also reduce the face-to-face interactions that once defined blues culture.

“We have some of the best musicians in the world that come here, that live here, that are born and raised right here,” Lattin said. “We are the most not-talked-about people.”

The blues remain…personal

For Brown, the blues are personal, a story of tribulations. When at home, he listens to iconic musicians like Little Milton, Keb’ Mo’, and B. B. King, who have deeply inspired him. The blues, he says, does not judge. And, in turn, he does not try to change it.

“When the artists, the listeners, or the purveyors of this genre of music fail to tell the stories and tell them consistently in the media or in schools, then it is filtered, watered down and unfortunately forgotten. Overall, the city of Houston, for whatever reason, even with our arts population, arts community, just has not done a good job of making our blues history stories known, not just in the city, but beyond the city boundaries.”

Sandra Harper Scott, Houston Blues Society board member

“If you’re going through struggles and trials, doesn’t matter what side of the proverbial railroad track you’re from, everybody can experience those blues and those lyrics will ring true,” he said. “If I don’t really feel the music, I probably won’t do it because I’m doing it really for me.”

Brown, who has had opportunities to incorporate rap into his music, refused to say words he was uncomfortable with. But he continues to experiment with music, from jazz and funk to soul and R&B.

“I’m not really cornering myself off into one little spot because there’s so much in music,” he explained. “I just try to stick to the traditional sound.”

But for Scott, the genre’s significance extends beyond music itself.

She traced the significance to churches, faith, people being out working and singing in fields, either in joy or in resistance to oppression.

“Blues is still a story,” Scott said. “It’s still telling a story that came from the Africans.”