by Elaine Ernst Schneider
"Katy did sing like a symphony; porch swing swayin' like a Tennessee lullaby…"
In 1991, Pam Tillis made Michael Anderson's "Maybe It Was Memphis" an overnight hit, climbing the country charts with romantic rhetoric and lines like "maybe it was southern nights…it sure felt right." And that's not all. There's "misty moonlight… and melody blowin' through the willow tree." Quite a picture. Quite a city.
Memphis sits on a bluff overlooking the mighty Mississippi River. Deemed the fourth Chickasaw bluff by Indian natives, the cliff seemed an appealing site for a town and was given a charter under President Andrew Jackson in 1819. Though the city sits 90 feet above the river, it was prone to muddy streets and poor drainage in its earliest years, a haven for diseases such as malaria, yellow fever, and cholera. Despite epidemics brought on by these diseases at various times in the city's growth, Memphis managed not only to grow, but to flourish.
The connection with the Mississippi River afforded Memphis countless shipping opportunities that brought in travelers and settlers. Cotton and timber were transported via barges down the river as well as by rail…until the Civil War, that is. Union troops cut off supplies to and from Memphis by capturing the port city's harbor and its railroad stations. However, post-Civil War business resumed with a flurry, and Memphis "white gold" rode the rails to steamers bound for the cotton mills of Liverpool. In his song "Big Train From Memphis," J.C. Fogerty reminisces of "summer days playin' on the track, the sound of the wheels rollin-on the steel." The group Why Store sings lyrics about a Memphis trip by rail in its song, "Sleepy Little Train to Memphis" from the album Inside the Why Store.
There are those who would say that cotton made Memphis a city. History confirms that the first rich folk in Memphis paid for their mansions with cotton profits. And mansions there are aplenty. John Loudermilk asks if "a twenty room mansion in Memphis" would gain his true love's affection in his rendition of "What Would You Take For Me?" But mansions and wealth weren't only a response to cotton, or even timber, for that matter. Indeed, the river brought other "kings" to Memphis.
"Proud Mary" talks about cleaning "a lot of plates in Memphis" and "pain down in New Orleans" from "rollin' down the river." The river in question was, of course, the Mississippi, but New Orleans and Memphis were connected by more than the Mississippi River. Both were home to blues music. In 1917, when the Secretary of State closed the blues district of New Orleans due to the violence and crime in that part of the city, jazz musicians looked to the Mississippi for alternatives. Some secured employment on riverboats as entertainers. The musical Showboat was based on such a scenario. In "Sailing on the Robert E. Lee," Ray Noble sounds the call, "All aboard for Natchez, Cairo, Memphis, and St. Louis" from the deck of the Robert E. Lee paddleboat.
Other musicians migrated up the Mississippi to Memphis where Beale Street already boasted the "trumpet and saxophone" that John Hiatt presumed "sweet as sin" in his song "Memphis in the Meantime." W.C. Handy had long before tooted a jazz note or two, composing "Memphis Blues" as a tribute to the city. Jazz chord progressions "in twelve bars or less" poured out of the clubs on Beale Street in songs like Deacon Blue's "Fergus Sings the Blues" where he "dream(s) of Memphis."
Then there were the "kings." King Curtis recorded "Memphis Soul Stew" in 1947, asking for "a teacup of bass…fat back drums…(and) four tablespoons of bawlin' Memphis guitars." Another King introduced Memphis to rhythm and blues guitar, coining his own radio name of Beale Street Blues Boy, a name that came to be known in its shortened version as B.B. King. King opened the B.B. King's Blues Club in 1991--right back on Beale Street where it all began--and performs in his own club when in town.
Beale Street isn't too far from Union Avenue, where a young man by the name of Elvis Presley cut his first Rock and Roll release in Sam Phillips' tiny Sun Studio. The "king" of Rock and Roll, Elvis spawned a unique blend of gospel, jazz, blues, and rock that added to the flavor of Memphis. Marc Cohn wrote about "Walking in Memphis" in "the land of the Delta Blues…ten feet off Beale Street" following the ghost of Elvis to the gates of Graceland. The traveler in Cohn's song "hovered round his tomb…waiting for the King." That image imposes upon Memphis today in the form of the Graceland Mansion which stands as a favorite tourist attraction. A new club, Elvis Presley's Memphis, beckons visitors to enjoy live music and relive the transition that literally "rocked" America. Flying Circus verbalizes the musician's dream in the song "Me and Elvis," suggesting a drive in the Presley Cadillac "around in Tennessee" where "there ain't no stopping us, baby, Elvis and me."
The tragedy of one King marked heavily upon Memphis history when in 1968, Martin Luther King, Jr. was killed in the downtown area of the city. Through many years of painful recovery, Memphians have sought to continue the fight for Civil Rights espoused by Dr. King; and in 1991, the National Civil Rights Museum was opened at the site of the assassination. The museum chronicles the history of American civil rights and is an ongoing, interactive continuation of the movement.
Today, Memphis is a unique blend of old and new. A 32-story multi-purpose arena--The Pyramid--overlooks the Mississippi River, its purpose to host entertainment and sporting events. The same river is home to The Memphis Queen Line's five paddlewheel riverboats, certainly reminiscent of times gone by. And across town, W.C. Handy's home marks history in the center of a revived Beale Street. Handy Park hosts festivals and jam sessions, serving to reconcile the blues of the past with the music of today. Eric Taylor contrasts a Memphis that "ain't bad in the morning," but "looks bigger at night" in his favorite "Memphis Midnight/Memphis Morning."
Chuck Berry painfully strives to keep in touch with Marie who lives "just a half a mile from the Mississippi Bridge." That bridge is the Hernando DeSoto, lighting up the way for any visitor to Memphis with over two hundred high-intensity lights. Bryan Lee sings that he is "Memphis Bound" on an album by the same name. He'll need to be watching for the lights. And Lyle Lovett likes to see "the sun come up" in his song, "I've Been to Memphis." A-ha just out and out tells us to "Move to Memphis." Me? I'm not so sure. I've heard about Mark Wills who fears he has made a colossal mistake calling his girl from "down on Beale Street" where he was rejected amidst the "blues pour(ing) out of the dives and bars." Perhaps I shall heed Mark's warning and look "Anywhere But Memphis."
Still, I'm a sucker for porch swings and katydid symphonies, and I can almost hear the "melody blowin' through the willow tree …" Sing it, Pam. I'll be right there.
And save me a spot on the swing!
Elaine Ernst Schneider is a freelance writer and music teacher. She has been writing since high school and has published articles, songs, and children¹s work. Presently, Elaine is a curriculum author for Group Publishing.
