
By Brian D’Ambrosio
Susan Tedeschi, 46, was not born of the blues.
Born in Boston and raised in a middle-class upbringing in semirural, neighboring Norwell, Tedeschi’s great-grandfather operated an eponymous chain of supermarkets and convenience stores. Her father, Dick, owned a video store called Prime Time Video, and he served as the president of a community bank. Her upbringing was well-anchored.
Yet, to young Susan, the blues was the litmus test by which to judge all other creative endeavors; it represented the purest form of human emotion and expression.
There was never a question of her wanting to sing anything else once she had been touched by the blues. Her youthful nights were spent visualizing the country juke joints, plantation house parties and storefronts where the old-time blues musicians once traversed the humid, tension-filled Delta. Indeed, she developed one absorbing and inspiring idea, and has worked towards it with unyielding zeal: to express – in simple, passionate form – the story of the blues.
“The blues for me, I’ve always been drawn to it,” said Tedeschi. “I’m not someone who was raised on plantation of picking cotton, but I’m definitely aware of the history of the music and where it comes from. Emotionally, I’ve always been moved by it, and the stories behind it are inspiring. I got to know B.B. King, and he was humble and sweet and he had seen hardship. But to be so positive, like King was, is a life lesson. The gospel and the blues, I’ve have a weird sense of familiarity with them, and I relate to those melodies. They are innate and maybe something in a past life. I feel connected to them, and it doesn’t make sense when you look at where I am, and what I look like.”
Her father’s significant record collection of blues giants such as Mississippi John Hurt and Lightning Hopkins undoubtedly played a role in her development, as did the feelings that she experienced at predominantly black Baptist churches in the Boston area.
“My parents were instrumental in getting me into music,” said Tedeschi. “My dad had an acoustic guitar and harmonica and he sang and played. My dad went to the Newport Folk Festival in ‘63, ‘64, ‘65, and as much as he loved Bob Dylan, he booed him too. He said that he didn’t mean to. But that was the response to Dylan (performing with electric guitars). But John Hurt was a huge turning point for me. My dad sat underneath a weeping willow tree in 1964 with Hurt for maybe an hour, and they spoke.
“I can remember hearing Lightning Hopkins’ 'Big Black Cadillac Blues' song – white eyes, white teeth – and I didn’t know what he was talking about. The Staple Singers had a syncopated clap, and when I hear that it brings me back to when I was young. As far as singers, Sam Cooke, the first time I heard him it was such a beautiful, fluid voice, Aretha Franklin, gifted on the piano and who sings. Magic Sam, Freddy King, and Otis Rush – they all changed my life. And Big Mama Thornton, she was an amazing musician, with power and authority.”
Experimenting with different instruments and bands since the age of 13, Tedeschi formed her first all-original group at age 18. She said that participating in theater provided her with the indispensable scaffold of reference that motivated her to become a musician.
“Instead of daycare, I was in the theater, and I can remember playing in 'Oliver!' at age 5, with a Cockney accent. I must have done 40 musicals and dramas between ages 5 and 18. The thing about it is, if you are always acting, you don’t know who you really are, but with music, it allows you to discover who and what you are.”
The regular, run-of-the-mill work is what the artist in Tedeschi found disconcerting. The novelty, the idea of making something, is what she really enjoyed.
“I’ve tried really hard to get to this point,” said Tedeschi. “Waitressing, office jobs, retail jobs, done to survive and pay the rent. The days when you have to drive in a snowstorm for $50, those are the things that build experience and you build a following … I was a total nerd, with straight A’s, and I had to study hard. I graduated from college in three years instead of four. I was motivated, and networking was a big part of it; you can’t just sit alone and be a loner, and there is no reward to non-action and self-pity. Growing up, I always wanted to be a mom and to sing, and now I’m a mother (of two children) and I sing for a living.”
Tedeschi formed the Susan Tedeschi Band in 1993, and said that she learned the fundamentals of the blues guitar in Boston from musician Tim Gearan in the mid-1990s. Her emotional and romantic vocals captured the isolation, complexity and temperament of a genre of American music that is both known and unknowable. Eventually Tedeschi opened for acts such as B.B. King, Buddy Guy, the Allman Brothers Band, Taj Mahal, and Bob Dylan.
She is an example of how the folk artists of our time link hands and minds with those of previous times and peoples. She is an artist who has taken the template, and transferred it, from mind to matter.
“I once told Etta James (1938-2012) what sound I was going for,” said Tedeschi. “I told her that I was going for the sound of Johnny 'Guitar' Watson, and she said, ‘well, me too.’ Being able to find out that some of your heroes, like James, have some of the same ideas as you do is special. I had the chance to play with B.B. King and Willie Nelson, and the two of them share the same two favorites: (Belgian-born jazz guitarist) Jean 'Django' Reinhardt and (early electric guitarist) Charlie Christian. To me it just makes the world that much smaller – that we all into the same kind of thing.”
Tedeschi’s act above all entertains – the only sure road to appreciation. She has made a career out of marrying the gravelly, hard-edge of the blues with a voice and presence that resonates in its own distinct style. There’s a fine line between reverence and irreverence toward the material. Aware that the blues has spawned countless imitations, Tedeschi stretches the material’s malleability to her advantage, allowing it to stray in many directions.
“I think that to become your own artist and have your sound, a big part of that is the influences of what came before,” said Tedeschi. “They all become part of you, and what touches you, you emulate through things. I’m not going to be able to sing like Billie Holiday or Aretha Franklin, but there are nuances that have been inspired from them, and that comes out of playing and singing. I’m not going to be Freddie King at guitar, or Magic Sam. But you can hear their influences in the vibrato, and it becomes your own thing, and with the jambalaya of influences, you are creating your own sound through emulation.”
In music, if the necessary risk is taken, the outcome could still be in doubt. Yet artistic creation does not have to occur in crisis, although, it just cannot always be planned.
“You’ve got your great days and your horrible days, even still,” said Tedeschi. “I think that it is OK not being afraid to fail, it (failure) is a part of learning, and even if things are perfect and memorized, there are obstacles, maybe there is a sound that you can’t hear, or the sound is weird, or your body is tired. You still need to overcome things you don’t expect, and things that are thrown at you at all times.
“The one thing that helps is practice, helps to build confidence. Being prepared is huge for self-confidence, and it’s scary when you are not sure of yourself. How can you convey something worthwhile to the audience when you don’t know what it is you are trying to convey? You need to be passionate, in the moment, and listening to all that is around you. Life is too short not to be positive about what it is that you are going to work for.”
In 2009, Tedeschi and her husband, Derek Trucks – the nephew of the Allman Brothers Band’s drummer Butch Trucks - quit their respective bands, and one year later, Tedeschi Trucks Band formed. Three studio albums and hundreds of live performances later, the group stands unified as a testament to artistic commitment, a stirring hybrid of musicians so eloquent in attitude that you can’t help but like them.
”We formed this band, and at the moment it just seemed like the right thing. Change is always scary, and people are going to judge you. Fans on both sides (her fans and Derek’s) were not ready for the change.”
While the 12-member band joins together a wide assortment of musical and cultural backgrounds, they have found commonality in the collective.
“We all appreciate all different music, from jazz, to classical, to gospel and soul, folk, Indian classical, and we turn each other on to other things. It’s fascinating, the different cultures, and hearing how they can sound so similar to other genres on different sides of the planet. I think that the more influence and the more open-mindedness, the more ideas come to you, and the more you improve. I think we’ve got an outstanding improvisational band, sort of like an all-star Olympic basketball team. As a band, you are not worrying about the solo, because the song is the statement and the music is the big picture.”
Tedeschi said that the band’s set list lacks consistency and structure, and that her husband, Derek, is the culprit as its set list writer.
“At first when I had my own band, I was in charge of the set list, and in charge of what I played,” said Tedeschi. “That made it easier to prepare. Derek will write the set list and then I need to mentally start preparing and go practice. His intention is to not play the exact same set list, so if we are doing three nights in Philly, or D.C., or Chicago, we don’t do the same set. So that’s 45 to 50 songs to practice over a three-day period. It’s an interesting dynamic, and you need to be ready for anything. On the road, we are always looking for new songs to write or cover. We are never in cruise control, and that keeps my mind active, learning, and on my toes, and it keeps it all exciting.”
Indeed, Susan Tedeschi combines the exciting colors of the blues like a painter, makes them vibrate like a musician. Her songs have strength even while iridescent and transparent. They have rhythm and the luster both of jewels and of human eyes. Objects of her love, she blesses them to assure herself of reality.
“The realization is that life is short so let’s do this,” said Tedeschi. “Let’s make the best band that we dream of. It was scary at first. But the music is so powerful that all of the other stuff fell to the wayside.”
- Brian D’Ambrosio Copyright 2017