Goin' in circles

" Memphis musician travels the world in search of his blues destiny. "

By Heather Gates

Butch Mudbone strides into C&K's Coffee Shop on Austin Peay and plops onto a counter stool. Admittedly, he looks a bit conspicuous among the coffee shop regulars, whom, it appears, prefer a cup of hot joe over a cappuccino, Marlboro cigarettes over Kamel Red's and blue jeans and T-shirts over anything, period.

Mudbone is wearing plum-colored pants and a multi-colored shirt. Strings of gray hair are sprinkled among his black, braided locks. An earring in the shape of an eagle with a silver feather dangles from his left ear.

It's clear Mudbone is not a man of pretense. He is, however, a man of the earth and of the spirit; a man who believes in controlling his own destiny. Once a year, Mudbone, who's one-quarter Seneca Indian, participates in a four-day Native American religious ceremony called a Sun Dance. "It's a way to celebrate life and to give a little back to the creator and to life," he says.

Mudbone hails from Oil City, Penn., located about 30 miles southwest of the Seneca Nation of Indians' Allegheny Indian reservation in upstate New York. Mudbone says the reservation, of which he is partially enrolled, is home to about 3,500 Native Americans.

At an early age, the blues "spirit" visited Mudbone and forever changed his life. "My stepdad played Howlin' Wolf and Muddy Waters and other 45s late at night," he says. "I'd hear them in my sleep and have dreams - visions - related to that."

Since then, Mudbone has devoted his life to trying to transform his boyhood dream into reality. He's hitchhiked cross-country eight or nine times in search of gigs. "I'd put my amp and guitar up and make gigs however I could. I had to make it happen," Mudbone says.

So far, however, he's had only modest success. He's opened for major artists such as B.B. King, James Brown and John Lee Hooker, and he was a sideman for Furry Lewis, Deacon John and others, according to bio sheets.

Last fall, Mudbone released What It Is To Have The Blues, and he's made a handful of television appearances, including a feature in a Quaker Oats granola bar commercial and in 911, Blues From The Delta, which was hosted by Isaac Hayes and Albert King.

Mudbone's guitar and harmonica sounds are raw, powerful and sometimes raspy, which complement his unique lyrics, particularly when he sings about the passions between a man and a woman.

In "Sweet Potato Pie," for instance, Mudbone sings of his desire for his woman to be more like a Frigidaire: "I shore would love a piece of your ice. I'd dip my little ice pick in it and shore be chipping away at that big block of your ice. I'm gonna eat up all your dumplings. Oh baby, I just love your sweet potato pie."

Mudbone says he prefers to leave his Native American heritage out of his songs.

"It wouldn't be interesting if a Methodist minister wrote a song about sermons," he says. "I understand the fascination with my culture, but it's not something I want to write about. I'm certainly not going to make up a song about the Sun Dance."

Mudbone's music and distinctive lyrical style has long been more popular in Europe than in the United States. He's toured extensively in such cities as Antibes and Cannes, France; Genoa, Italy; Zurich, Switzerland; and Amsterdam, the Netherlands. "I can make a lot of money in Europe. It's like here, they can't see the forest for the trees," he says.

Closer to home, he's performed at the Delta Blues Festival, in Greenville, Miss., the Tucson Blues Festival and the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival, among others.

For Mudbone, though, Europe holds a unique spiritual force. Once, with only $250 he had won at a talent show, Mudbone traveled to Amsterdam. While there, he says he ran into some people and, eventually, borrowed a friend's car to catch a few gigs in nearby countries. "I made a whole lot of money playing the streets and in little clubs," he says.

Seven months later, Mudbone's European expedition had taken him through seven countries and back into Amsterdam. He had, in fact, traveled in a circle. "Everything in the Indian culture surrounds a circle," Mudbone says.

A few days later, while still in Amsterdam, a friend's son gave Mudbone a bear claw. The gift was no mere coincidence, Mudbone says. It was the spiritual world at work, a sign that he had successfully met a challenge and come full circle.

While not quite as prophetic, Mudbone received a sign of another sort while traveling through the states. During a recent trip through western Mississippi, he says he felt the spirits of the old Delta bluesmen. The experience was soulful and enlivened his own musical spirits. "In my dreams (about the Delta), I could see the color red," he says. "The earth is still breathing there.

"It was such a complete feeling," he adds. "That's why I have a hard time when I can't get gigs here (in Memphis). I've dedicated my life to it."

Indeed, it seems Mudbone has been close to lifeless since his arrival in Memphis seven years ago. He claims he hasn't been able to get much work here and has been all but shut out from the local blues scene by festival-and-concert organizers, agents and club owners.

"How come I can go to Detroit and get a $1,000 gig but can't get it here?" Mudbone asks. At various times, however, he has worked on Beale Street at such locations as King's Palace and the Rum Boogie Cafe and performed at the Memphis Music Heritage Festival. In 1995, he won the Beale St. Blues Society talent contest. Mudbone himself says, "At one time or another, I've worked at every club on Beale."

According to at least two local music industry leaders (who spoke off the record and didn't want to be named), Mudbone's complaint simply isn't valid. Memphis has a competitive music market that can bear only so many musicians, they say.

Mudbone plans to return to Memphis in mid-August after a tour. He's contemplating a move to another state - to which one, he's not so sure.

In the meantime, Mudbone will plug away on the tour circuit and work on his next release titled, Closer to the Bone.

At times, Mudbone seems disillusioned and questions why success still eludes him. He admits his lifelong search has been difficult and filled with his fair share of uncertainty and rejection.

Unfortunately, Mudbone's odds of making a steady living - much less of making it "big" - as a musician aren't in his favor, either.

But Mudbone has the perseverance, the spirit and the will to give him a good enough shot. Whether his big break happens in Memphis, in Cannes, or ever for that matter, Mudbone seems certain that somehow, someday, he will come full circle and find the blues destiny that was meant for him.