As we kick off Women’s History Month—and publish our 150th installment of Black Music Sunday—it seems appropriate to pay tribute to the woman who was, during her lifetime known as “the Mother of the Blues,” yet who has been too often overlooked in our her-stories after her death. There is no film footage of this influential artist, even though she made over 100 recordings during her lifetime. How is this possible?
She sang with all the jazz and blues greats of her time and she mentored the great Bessie Smith. Yet to this day, even though a Broadway play became a film featuring her name, she is still in many ways a mystery to many. There is however, nothing mysterious about the blues she gave a name to.
Let’s get to know Ma Rainey through her songs.
Black Music Sunday is a weekly series highlighting all things Black music. With 150 stories (and counting) covering performers, genres, history, and more, each featuring its own vibrant soundtrack, I hope you’ll find some familiar tunes and perhaps an introduction to something new.
The New York Times’ “Overlooked” obituary series featured Rainey in 2019.
With her unapologetic lyrics, Rainey proudly proclaimed her bisexuality and helped to mainstream black female narratives in a musical style that later became a nationwide craze.
Ma Rainey did not make the first blues recording; that distinction belongs to Mamie Smith, the vaudevillian who recorded “Crazy Blues” in 1920. And Rainey did not achieve the monumental acclaim of Bessie Smith, her mentee and, later, friendly rival.
But it’s possible that neither of these figures would have sung the way they did without the influence of Rainey.
Often called the “Mother of the Blues,” the artist, who is the subject of the new Netflix drama “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom,” was the first entertainer to successfully bridge the divide between vaudeville — the cabaret-style shows that developed out of minstrelsy in the mid-1800s, and catered largely to white audiences — and authentic black Southern folk expression.
In 2021, Mariana Brandman profiled Rainey for the National Women’s History Museum.
Ma Rainey was born Gertrude Malissa Nix Pridgett in Columbus, Georgia on April 26, 1886. Her parents, Thomas and Ella (Allen) Pridgett, were minstrel performers. Rainey displayed a talent for singing at a young age and began performing as a teenager. She made her debut with the Bunch of Blackberries revue at the Springer Opera House in Columbus. She then began singing with traveling vaudeville acts in tent shows, honky-tonks, and carnivals.
It was on the performance circuit that she met comedian, singer, and dancer Will “Pa” Rainey, and the two married in 1904. They formed a double act (“Ma and Pa Rainey”) and toured with various African-American minstrel troupes and vaudeville groups, most notably the Rabbit Foot Minstrels. After about a dozen years of marriage, Rainey and her husband separated. Rainey then created her own show: “Madame Gertrude Ma Rainey and Her Georgia Smart Set.”
Rainey, the “Mother of the Blues,” was influential for bridging the traditions of vaudeville and authentic Southern blues. The blues descended from the call-and-response storytelling songs of West Africa. Captive Africans passed them down through the generations while enslaved in the Western Hemisphere. Rainey’s strong voice and characteristic “moaning” style of singing also fueled her success. A vibrant stage presence, she was known for her gold teeth, flashy clothing and jewelry, and establishing a personal connection with her audiences.
James Nadal at All About Jazz details Rainey’s early recording history.
Already a popular singer in the Southern theater circuit; Rainey entered the recording industry as an experienced and stylistically mature talent. She had a deep contralto voice and sang with great power and feeling, in broad impressive sweeps of sound. Her songs were boisterous, yet melancholic and her low down meaning blues were without rival. She gave the public a distinctly Southern folk based music, singing about life’s joys and sorrows in a poetic but simple direct language. All the years on the road performing in tent shows at a close personal level with her audience carried over to her recordings, giving them credibility.
Ma Rainey first recorded for the Paramount label in 1923. Her first session, cut with Lovie Austin and Her Blue Serenaders, featured the traditional number "Bo-Weevil Blues". That was followed by the release of "Moonshine Blues," again with Austin, and "Yonder Comes the Blues" with Louis Armstrong. That same year, Rainey recorded "See See Rider," which has since become a blues standard. Ma Rainey’s was the first recording of that song, giving her a hold on the copyright, and one of the best of the more than 100 versions.
Ma Rainey earned a reputation as a professional on stage and as a tough business woman. She was never cheated and made sure she received her contracted payments and proper royalties. During Rainey's five-year recording career at Paramount she cut nearly ninety sides, most of which dealt with the subjects of love and sexuality, bawdy themes that often earned her the billing of "Madam Rainey." Her songs were also diverse, yet deeply rooted in experiences of black people from the South.
Sherri Lillian, on her Onyx Queen YouTube channel, reads from Donald Bogle’s book, Brown Sugar: Eighty Years of American Black Female Superstars (pages 16-21).
One of the things that has always fascinated me about Rainey is that she sang unabashedly about topics one was used to hearing from male performers. but not from women. “Moonshine Blues” is a perfect example, since she makes it clear in the lyrics that this is about a woman who has had way too much to drink.
Lyrics
[Intro]
Hold him Luke, he might be a bootlegger!
[Verse 1]
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
[Verse 2]
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
[Verse 3]
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
[Verse 4]
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
Though modern feminist and gender studies historians are now delving into the contributions of Black LBGTQ+ musicians, writers, and artists, I was curious about reactions to Rainey openly singing about her affairs with women were during her heyday. Some of the answers are provided in Robert Philipson’s 2011 documentary, T'Ain't Nobody's Bizness": Queer Blues Divas of the 1920s.
Here’s the trailer:
A 1928 advertisement for Rainey’s “Prove It On Me Blues” depicts Rainey in somewhat masculine attire, chatting with two far more feminine-dressed women. A white police officer is spying on her in the background. The drawing alludes to the story that Rainey was once arrested at an orgy—of only women.
Here’s the song:
Lyrics:
Went out last night, Had a bad big fight
Everything seemed to go on wrong
I looked up, to my surprise
The gal I was with was gone.
Where she went, I don't know
I mean to follow everywhere she goes;
Folks say I'm crooked. I didn't know where she took it
I want the whole world to know.
They say I do it, ain't nobody caught me
Sure got to prove it on me;
Went out last night with a crowd of my friends,
They must've been women, 'cause I don't like no men.
It's true I wear a collar and a tie,
Makes the wind blow all the while
Don't you say I do it, ain't nobody caught me
You sure got to prove it on me.
Say I do it, ain't nobody caught me
Sure got to prove it on me.
I went out last night with a crowd of my friends,
It must've been women, 'cause I don't like no men.
Wear my clothes just like a fan
Talk to the gals just like any old man
Cause they say I do it, ain't nobody caught me
Sure got to prove it on me.
Jas Obrecht wrote this essay for the Library of Congress in 2004, on the occasion of “See See Rider” being added to the National Registry.
While some of Ma’s records were set to the streamlined accompaniment of guitar, banjo, or piano, the majority of her 78s featured jazz ensembles, some quite extraordinary. Such was the case in mid-October 1924, when she was accompanied in a New York studio by Louis Armstrong on cornet, Charlie Green on trombone, Buster Bailey on clarinet, Fletcher Henderson on piano, and Charlie Dixon on banjo. Their spirited accompaniment helped transform Rainey’s heart-rending “See See Rider Blues” into a blues masterpiece.
Her lyrics were fuelled, in turn, by sorrow and longing, hope, and rage:
I’m so unhappy, I feel so blue, I always feel so sad,
I made a mistake, right from the start,
Oh, it seems so hard to part. . .
See, see, rider, see what you done done, Lawd, Lawd, Lawd,
Made me love you, now your gal done come,
You made me love you, now your gal done come
I’m goin’ away, baby, won’t be back till fall, Lawd, Lawd, Lawd,
Goin’ away, baby, won’t be back till fall,
If I find me a good man, I won’t be back at all
I’m gonna buy me a pistol just as long as I am tall, Lawd, Lawd, Lawd,
Gonna kill my man and catch the Cannonball,
If he don’t have me, he won’t have no gal at all
The 1927 recording of “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” would go down in history, long after her death on December 22, 1939. It’s both the title and subject of one of 10 plays in playwright August Wilson’s Pittsburgh Cycle, and a 2020 film of the same name.
Both productions altered the lyrics however, editing out “Jew baby prances.”
Original lyrics
Now, you heard the rest
Ah, boys, I'm gonna show you the best
Ma Rainey's gonna show you her black bottom
Way down south in Alabamy
I got a friend, they call dancin' Sammy
Who's crazy about all the latest dances
Black bottom stomps and the Jew baby prances
The other night at a swell affair
Soon as the boys found out that I was there
They said, "Come on, Ma let's go to the cabaret"
Where that band you ought to hear me say"
I want to see that dance you call the black bottom
I wanna learn that dance
Don't you see the dance you call your big black bottom
That'll put you in a trance
All the boys in the neighborhood
They say your black bottom is really good
Come on and show me your black bottom
I want to learn that dance
I want to see the dance you call the black bottom
I want to learn that dance
Come on and show that dance you call your big black bottom
It puts you in a trance
Early last morning 'bout the break of day
Grandpa told my grandma, I heard him say
Get up and show your old man your black bottom
I want to learn that dance
Now I'm gonna show y'all my black bottom
They stay to see that dance
Wait until you see me do my big black bottom
I'll put you in a trance
Ah, do it ma, do it, honey
Look it now Ma, you gettin' kinda rough here
You gotta be yourself now, careful now
Not too strong, not too strong, Ma
I done shown y'all my black bottom
You ought to learn that dance
Though the 2020 film Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is not a musical—it’s set around fictionalized events at a recording studio in an afternoon on the South Side of Chicago—promotional materials for the Netflix production do teach viewers something about the real Ma Rainey.
Another video from the Netflix Film Club includes interviews with a broad spectrum of film artists and musicians for their tribute to Rainey.
Rainey was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1990, in the Early Influences Category; she was immortalized in the Blues Hall of Fame that same year.
YouTuber novanine has the largest collection of Ma Rainey on the platform, which you should check out. I’ll close with her “Mystery Record,” which according to Rate Your Music was:
“First advertised in the Chicago Defender on May 31, 1924 (so it was apparently released before The famous Ma Rainey picture label record on Paramount 12098). News entry about winners of the Mystery Record contest appeared in the Chicago Defender on September 13, 1924. The winning title was "Lawd I'm Down Wid the Blues".
Join me in the comments for even more Ma, and for some of the well-known covers of her music.