I wish there were more to this story. I was just last night blowing some free form fun blues harp with the percussionist Oswald Kouame in Tokyo. I’ll be doing photography for him at Sunday night’s gig in Roppongi. I love the blues.
RIP Joe. I did not realize he was that old. Enjoyed that record when I was in Jr High in 1957.
I used to run a music agency in the early 1980s in the Boston area, and was introduced to Little Joe Cook by an associate who wanted to see if we could work out a management deal with him.
Joe was a very nice guy, and it was fun going to see him at the Cantab Lounge in Cambridge. The management deal never materialized, but at one point I had written up some draft contract language and handed it to him to read. I was shocked and a bit embarrassed for him (and me) when it became obvious that he was illiterate, and couldn’t read a word of it.
During our conversations, Joe indicated that he had been screwed out of the royalties for his song “Peanuts,” but I never did learn the details about that.
RIP Joe.
The walk from Harvard Square to Central Square was like walking through a different dimension. There were bars in Central Square half a block off of Mass Ave that I'd wander into, order a beer at the bar and look around to see I was the only white person in the place.
There was a woman's gay bar there and I remember at closing time drunk women would stagger out of the place and pee on the sidewalk.
I was never hassled in those places, though, it was the druggies of all stripes you had to watch out for. In a flash a knife would appear or you'd get a gun stuck in your ribs. Boy, that would get your attention and concentrate your mind wonderfully.
That and the cops who would work drunks over hard.
Fot a 24 year old kid whoe grea wup in the seventies that all seemed pretty normal.
RIP.