Alligator Records Marks 25th Anniversary

" You have to understand, we've released about 150 records, and they are all like my children. I have strong feelings for all of them. "

By Norm Shaw

Bruce Iglauer's resume reads like a short history of the blues rebirth. A founder of one of the best blues magazines in the world. Founder of one of the most successful and respected blues labels.

But 30 years ago, being a leader in the blues world was far from Iglauer's mind. He was just was a college kid in Wisconsin. He loved folk music, but that love was limited. He hadn't been exposed to one of the most unique forms of folk - the blues.

But when that exposure came at the University of Chicago Folk Festival in the guise of Mississippi Fred McDowell, "it was like you see in the movies. You know, where the hero slaps someone in the face, and they say, 'Thanks, I needed that.' I was absolutely hooked."

Iglauer isn't kidding. He was so hooked the blues became his life. And now, Iglauer has hit a milestone. Alligator Records, the label he formed solely to release a Hound Dog Taylor recording, is celebrating its 25th anniversary. But it all started with that one show.

"After that, I immersed myself in the Chicago blues scene," Iglauer says by phone from his Chicago offices. "Every night I'd drive into ghetto and hand around with the musicians. It was fascinating and dangerous. But it was a great time for the blues."

Iglauer went to work as a clerk for the Jazz Record Mart, the premier blues record store in Chicago. Delmark Records and the Jazz Record Mart were owned by Bob Koester, and blues musicians often hung out at the store and lived there when necessary. It offered Iglauer an education in the recording industry and contact to the musicians he loved.

It was around this time that Iglauer and some friends, including Jim O'Neal, Amy van Singel, Paul Garon, Tim Zorn and Diane Allmen, began talking about starting a magazine devoted to the blues. They were disappointed that Europe had two blues magazines b ut the United States had none. So they started Living Blues, which celebrated its 25th anniversary last year.

At the same time, Iglauer was still working at the Record Mart. He tried to talk Koester into recording Hound Dog Taylor. When Koester balked, Iglauer decided to do it himself and Alligator Records was born.

"Alligator was my nickname. When I was listening to music on the radio I was always clicking my teeth together," he says, and then demonstrates over the phone. "Later on, I learned that in jazz slang an alligator in the 1930s was somebody who hung around musicians. He was a good guy, but not a musician himself. That's me. I'm very much a non-musician." But Iglauer soon learned he could be a business man, and it started with that one release in 1971 - Hound Dog Taylor and the Houserockers. It was then that Iglauer laid the ground work for what would remain an Alligator trademark for 25 years - promotion, promotion, promotion. "I did something different right at the beginning," Iglauer says. "Remember, this was the time of progressive radio, real hippy radio. Deejays were programming their own shows. It was the peak for free-form radio. So I took 1,000 records and hit the road. I'd sit in the studio for 24 hours and see all the deejays. I connected with them, 'cause we all looked alike. Some of these deejays never got service from a record rep. We were happy to get any recognition at all."

To this day, Iglauer says Alligator has the largest list of media outlets to send press releases and review copies. It is not uncommon for the label to send out 5,000 copies of a new release for review.

"I've always worked very hard (to spread the word). I'm a proselytizer. I want to reach beyond the blues audience and reach into the pop audience," says Iglauer.

The first few years at Alligator saw limited releases. From 1971 to 1977, it was never more than one or two records a year. Iglauer says it was hard to release more than that because he was pretty much a one-man shop for production, distribution, PR and management. But that doesn't mean the product suffered.

Consider what the Encyclopedia of the Blues has to say about the 1974 Alligator release of Fenton Robinson's Somebody Loan Me a Dime. The book by Gerard Herzhaft calls the record "one of the best albums in blues history" and credits the "tireless and wise Bruce Iglauer" for putting Robinson's career back on track in the 1970s.

"You have to understand, we've released about 150 records, and they are all like my children," Iglauer says. "I have strong feelings for all of them. Fenton's was like the fifth record we made. I had wanted Fenton on label for years, but he was under contract to a Nashville company, so I had to wait until he was a free agent.

"Anyway, every record at that time was the most important on earth. The thing I remember is that once we put the whole album together I was amazed how well it worked as a record...That record has subtleties and works on several level. I worked at controlling him in the studio. There's a tension between control and passion. He's a man trying to be under control."

The turning point came for Alligator in 1978, when the label released seven records, including the first three volumes of the Living Chicago Blues. Alligator now employs 22 people and exists in two buildings in a fairly rough section of Chicago. Iglauer asked his wife, who lives in Milwaukee, if she would describe the neighborhood as seedy, "but she said, 'I'd say dangerous.'"

Most of Alligator's employees are younger than Iglauer, who is 48. He likes to hire people right out of college and those with little experience in the music business. He also looks for more than just hard-core blues fans, so they can talk to a deejay and say a song by an Alligator artist would fit with a song from a new band, such as Counting Crows.

"The blues purist media is the easiest to reach," he says. "It's persuading the others to listen to the blues that's hard."

But that is Iglauer's vision - spreading the gospel of the blues. It is one of many visions.

"I've had a lot of visions for Alligator," Iglauer says. "When I started, the only models I had were Delmark and Arhoolie Records. They were the only guys I knew. I've never known anybody from Chess or the bigger labels."

The goal always has been to be more like a family than a record label. Iglauer gives his home phone number to artists, and it isn't uncommon for them to call.

Kenny Neal has made five records for Alligator and is the process of deciding where he will record next. But he is optimistic he will remain with Alligator.

"Alligator is more family like," Neal says. "That's what I grew up with. They've been real good to me, and to be honest, I can't ask for anything better."

Elvin Bishop has the same feelings.

"They are really nice folks," Bishop says. "They treat everybody good. Bruce and I have had minor little disagreements, but they're easier to get along with than most any other label. They care more about the music."

So Iglauer has found his niche, and plans to stay in it. Alligator is first and foremost a business. The owner says it is 90 percent dull, boring business and 10 percent fun. But the fun part has made it all worthwhile.

High points of the 25 years include taking the blues to places its never been before, such as when Albert Collins and Koko Taylor played the Acropolis in Greece; making a record with Professor Longhair ("It was such a gift from him to me," says Iglauer); and making the biggest seller in Alligator history, the Showdown record with Albert Collins, Robert Cray and Johnny Copeland ("Those were magic days in the studio," Iglauer says).

And Iglauer isn't ready to rest on his laurels. There's the 25th anniversary CD to prepare. There's new artists to sign. Iglauer is still looking to the future, and he likes what he sees.

"The blues audience is the largest its ever been, and the most diverse," he says. "When I started, it was mostly a black audience. There's still a large black audience, but it is more diverse.

"There are more blues records being released than ever before. We're kind of like hounds at each other's throat. There are more releases than there are dollars to support those releases. But there are more festivals than ever before, and more places supporting the blues than ever before. I think it's a pretty rosy future."