Little Milton travels the world

"I’ve been doing this since 1954 and if I had it to do over again, I’d do the same thing"

Brown Burnett Little Milton travels the world playing and singing the blues. He was in Paris over Christmas for a Dec. 26 gig. A few weeks ago he played B.B. King’s Universal City, CA., club, followed a couple of weeks later with a gig at the National Guard Armory in Dothan, AL. April 13 has him playing a festival in Byron Bay, Australia. Such is the life for a living legend, and make no mistake about it, Milton Campbell is just that – one of the last of his kind. An authentic, Mississippi bluesman who sings his life and plays his soul through his guitar. Let’s see who’s left. There’s B.B. King, there’s Little Milton, and . . . well, that’s about it. Milton was in Memphis recently between gigs, "kicking back," and took a few minutes to reflect upon his life, his legend and the state of blues in the 21st Century. Born and raised in the Mississippi Delta, and schooled in the blues all over, the Malaco recording artist lived in Chicago for 33 years, but presently has a home in Las Vegas. On occasion, he sets down in Memphis where he keeps an apartment and spent some time for this interview. "I’ve always had little dwellings in Memphis because it’s centrally located," he said. "The airport’s right down the street. Not many people know that I stay here from time to time." Milton is a warm, gracious man who maintains a twinkle in his eye and fire in his soul. He’s only in his 60’s and a summer of U.S. festivals and more bookings in Europe are waiting. "I’m gung-ho for the guitar," he says. "I always have been. I’ve been doing this since 1954 and if I had it to do over again, I’d do the same thing. "I love performing for people, I love my music." Milton’s career path is lined with musical legends. He was on Sun Records when Elvis was there. He moved on to Chess and their Checkers label. He stopped at Stax for awhile and has been with Malaco for 16 years, he says. "Whenever someone asks me about Memphis and music, Elvis ALWAYS comes up," he said. "You know, people don’t realize he caught HELL from white folks. A lot of stations wouldn’t play his records. "This man had the nerve and was committed to what he felt. A lot of younger musicians today PLAY the music but they don’t have a FEELING for it. They just go through the motions. "These are people I don’t have respect for . . . It all seems to come back to the Almighty Dollar." He shakes his head and looks away for a minute, when asked about ‘young talent’. "The last one that I remember was Stevie Ray Vaughan. He was legit. And the good die young. That’s so true." When asked about his guitar, he smiles and says, "A Gibson 345. I gotta retire it, I suppose. It’s a 1959 model. I’ve had it re-done three times. Technician told me the last time he looked at it, ‘Milton, I can heal the sick but I can’t raise the dead.’ " He laughs and says he’s not ready to give it up yet, although Gibson keeps offering him new ones for the chance to retire his old one to a place of honor for the company. Milton says he really doesn’t do much practicing. "No I hardly ever do that. I play from feeling. I taught myself how to play from determination and listening to records and radio. "I probably wouldn’t qualify to be anyone else’s guitar player. The things they would want, I probably couldn’t produce," he says with disarming modesty. He’s shown a large, blue book – Keith Shadwick’s Blues: Keeping the Faith, a superb collection of photos and biographies of virtually every blues musician, past and present. He smiles and starts thumbing through it. Of course, he knows, has known or crossed paths with most of them throughout his career. He’ll stop and say, "Hey! He died yesterday!" He sees a relatively young blues player and mumbles, "He’s got a long way to go." Then he sees harp player Charlie Musselwhite and gets excited. "There’s ol’ Charlie !! He’s going to Australia with me!" Living history looking at living history. When shown his own picture and bio, he studies it carefully, doesn’t comment on the text but seems amused at the old, old photo of himself. He points to the guitar he’s cradling in the picture and says, "That’s a (Gibson) 335. Got stolen." He flips some more and without looking up says, "Man this is GREAT. It’s really something how people that love this music would go to the lengths to create something like this. After we’re all gone, the history of our contribution will remain." He thumbs through the book some more, shaking his head, and then puts it aside for a moment. "If these young guys (blues musicians) would ever settle down to find THEMSELVES instead of imitating people . . . I remember when I came up, I wanted to sound just like T-Bone Walker – and I DID. But when I got to that point, I knew I needed some identity of my own. It takes time, work and commitment. "When you’re young, you’re curious, you got a lot of energy, you do what young people do. But when I was young, I ran into the right role models – guys who lived hard and strong but there was NO DRUGS. I was around people like Rice Miller – Sonny Boy Williamson – Elmore James, Roosevelt Sykes. Musicians had the kind of appeal that people looked up to - The way they carried themselves, the way they dressed. They taught me self respect, but also taught me to be respectful. "I remember Sonny Boy telling me one time, ‘You sound good. You can sing. You’re a good-lookin young man but you’re NOT THE ONLY ONE IN THE WORLD. You’re only as great as the people that support you. YOU’RE not the star. THEY’RE the stars. "I never forgot that. To this day, I always tell my audiences to give themselves a round of applause, because if not for them, there would be no ‘me.’" Little Milton smiles and points with pride to his latest CD, Feel It (Malaco), talks about how he never uses anything but ‘live musicians’, no synthesizers. The CD is up to his high standards, a nice mix of moods, styles and tempo, great vocals and top-notch song selection and production, including a couple of his own tunes. He talks about the music that has influenced him and expresses a deep love and respect for country and western music. "It’s so similar to soul and blues. Except for maybe a beat and a bar change. The stories are so meaningful." Little Milton continues to write his own story his own way. For two decades he has basically controlled his own fate, keeping his own booking agency, bookkeeping department and production company. Summing up a half-century of music and the life it demands, he says simply, "I don’t think there’s anybody that knows EVERYTHING about this business. Every day is something new you can learn. Every day."