BIG CITY BLUES
November-December 2002
Francis Clay: The Gentleman of the Blues

By Johnny Ace

When I or some of you readers of Big City Blues think about the great masters of blues drumming, the names of Freddy Belo: drummer with the legendary Ace’s and of numerous Chess sessions; S .P. Leary: master of the brushes and delayed back beat; Pec Curtis: just for being with Sonny Boy 2 on Trumpet Records and Sonny Freeman: B. B. King’s drummer from the late ‘50’s and ‘60’—immediately all these greats come to mind. And in that arena of the cream de la cream comes the name Francis Clay.

Francis is the gentleman of the blues, not only because of his impeccable taste in clothes and the way he looks in them, but in his respect for his fellow musicians, his fellow man and the universe. Francis always has that inner glow from way deep within and is always courteous and a gracious man with a strong sense of honor, not to mention the fact that he is a great drummer! He rides!

We begin with Francis’ story on November 16th, 1923. Francis was born into a musical family in Rock Island, Illinois. His father Mac worked 65 years as a headwaiter as The Rock Island Cub, which later became The Elk’s Club. Mac could pick up any musical instrument and play it. His mother, Francis, played violin, piano, and for 75 ears she played organ in the Rock Island Methodist Church and other places of worship.

When Francis was very young, his mother was sick and he stayed at his aunt’s house that was married to a Will Brackavich, a local drummer and smart-ass. Francis’ people didn’t want him to play drums like his uncle. Francis would watch him every night take his bass drum and snare drum out of his garage and go out and play. Where—Francis never knew. Seeing this put the drum-playing bug in Francis’ head, although he never heard his uncle play. Later in life and through all of Francis’ extensive travels, he never met anyone who heard of Will Brackovich. Ha ha.

At ten years of age, young Francis cut a rubber car tire and tacked it down to a block of wood and made it into a practice pad. He cut a log an caved a pair of sticks, went to a music store and bought some instructional books and then practiced in his basement so no one could hear him.

At 14 Francis was banned by his Junior high school symphony teacher Mr. Burcheckis from the orchestration room because he didn’t want to play the tuba. Francis was in the Junior high school orchestra, showing his fellow students how to swing. This infuriated Mr. Burcheckis because he liked could only play classical music. Francis’ parents came to one of Francis’ jr. high school orchestra performances and they decided he needed a good teacher. Percy Walker was chosen. Percy was playing drums with Speck Red and later played with Elmore James. Francis learned his lessons well and at the age of 15 left home for Davenport with The Joe Dickson Band. Back then, Francis always thought the bandleader was—of course—Joe Dickson. Francis recently found out two years ago when he got to see Joe Dickson who is still alive in East Moline where they had a “Francis Clay Day” on July 3rd that Pat Patrick was really the bandleader and not Joe Dickson. Francis says, “There’s always one in every band who wants to run everything.” On this special day, they also honored Pat Patrick who also happens to be Joe Dickson’s nephew.

At 16, Francis got to fill in for Gus Johnson who played drums with the great Jay Mc Shane Band. Of course, the legendary Charlie Parker was in this band, and Francis actually played a couple of gigs with him until Gus got back in shape and could play again. Francis said, “Bird then was very quiet—and he didn’t talk much. He would just go over his tunes and stay to himself.” Working with the great jazzman proved to be definitive, for Francis says, ‘after that gig with Jay Mc Shane—the gigs rolled in!”

Francis was in such demand as a drummer, that he was able to turn down gigs. For example, he turned down a job with Lion el Hampton because he “killed” drummers. Francis was not a “workhorse” and he had ideas of his own. He went back home to the Chicago area and then got a job filling in for the drummer of sax player, violinist, and bandleader Boyd Atkins. Francis stayed 1 1/2 years with Boyd.

After Boyd Atkins, Francis stayed in Chicago and worked with everybody—and he had his own band. In 1944, Louis Jordan, in his prime, offered Francis a job for $250.00 a week, but Francis was making that much in his own band doing his own music. Up until 1957, when Francis joined the legendary Muddy Waters Band, Francis was freelancing with everyone in the jazz world who lived in Chicago or came to Chicago to play. He played with bandleader Von Freeman for 1 1/2 years and backed up all the great jazz vocalist, Dinah Washington, Sarah Vaughn, etc. but also all the “bird’ groups, The Flamingos, The Moon Glows, etc. Francis also worked in Jack Mc Duff’s band before Mc Duff started to play the organ—he was playing piano. Francis played many “Battles of the Giant Tenor Sax” gigs with Sonny Stitt and Gene Ammons. He also played with bandleader King Kolax—in his house band at Chicago’s famous Crown Propeller—and they backed everyone who was anyone.

In was in 1957 that clarinetist and bass player, Marcus Johnson of the Muddy Waters Band, whom Francis had worked with before, told Francis that Muddy needed a drummer to go to Gleason’s House of the Blues in Cleveland. (This Gleason was no relation to “The Great One” from Brooklyn. Ride!)

Francis told Marcus he knew nothing of how to play down home blues. Marcus told him, “You can play anything—you’ll learn.” Francis was now living in New York City but played Chicago all the time. He figured he’d play the 7 days at Gleason’s and that way play his way home to New York City. Muddy picked him up and they all drove over to Gleason’s. The Muddy Waters Band consisted of Otis Spann on piano, James Cotton on harp, Pat Hair on guitar and Marcus Johnson on bass. And of course Muddy! What a great, great band. The first night, with no rehearsal, he went on cold—and as Francis tells it: “The band went one way and I went the other.” It was awful. Playing with Muddy was a real challenge for Francis. He was taking notes and making cue sheets. But what really helped was when Muddy, himself, got on the drums and showed him the backbeat—that’s all Muddy wanted—and what to play on the turnarounds in between the chorus. On the second night the band started jamming together, and on the 3rd night they had Gleason’s screaming! Muddy said to Francis, “I don’t know what you’re doin,’ but it feels good and sounds good." Stay with me ‘til I can get a blues drummer.” Francis stayed for 4 years.

For many of the gigs, Spann, Pat Hair and Cotton would be too hung over from partying all night and day to play well. Francis said, "They’d all be up there but it was just me, Marcus on bass, and Muddy holding it together.” Over the years, once Francis learned the blues ropes, Muddy would do the same musical grooves with different words, and Francis would get real bored. Francis would talk to Muddy about it. And Muddy would suggest for him to come up with some ideas of his own. And so Francis did just that! “I put the music to ‘Walking Through the Park,’ ‘Tiger in Your Tank,’ ‘Nineteen Years Old,’ ‘Close to You’ and “She’s Into Something,’” said Francis. “She’s Into Something” was recorded by Robert Cray, Johnny Copeland and Albert Collins—it sold a ton. Francis never received money from the record companies. He is still trying to collect royalties owed him for all the songs he wrote when he was with Muddy.

In 1962 with eternal group problems, Muddy gave Francis and Andrew Stevens, the bass player, a sudden two weeks notice. The club owner where they had a steady gig then gave Muddy two weeks notice. Cotton then gave Muddy two weeks notice. All this happened in one night. Then Cotton and Andrew went with Francis and they hired Robert Jr. Lockwood to play guitar and sing. This group lasted 3 months. Francis said Muddy said later that the reason he fired him was that Howlin’ Wolf and Little Walter kept telling him that “Francis Clay is not a blues drummer—get rid of him.” When Francis left Muddy, both Howlin’ Wolf and Little Walter tried to grab him! Still, with all due respect to Muddy, Francis does say “Muddy was a great entertainer and singer. He would raise chills up and down my spine.”

From 1963 to the beginning of 1967, Francis was in his prime and could pick and choose his work: Buddy Guy for one year, Otis Rush, anyone great in Chicago. In 1965, he went briefly went back with Muddy’s band because Muddy, the union and Chess made him. After that, Francis had a steady gig in Geary Indian—five nights a week—every night he used a different band. Even the Jackson Five were in the show “just dancing” –not singing.

In the beginning of 1967, Francis took Sammy Lay’s place in the great James Cotton Band, which included Luther Tucker on guitar and vocals, little Bobby Anderson on bass and Alberto Giocuente on piano. Francis recorded 2 LP’s with this band—they lasted as a group until 1969. Things just didn’t work out. The band was starting to make some real money and heads started to swell. Francis was asked to leave. In the early 1970 ‘s, and with Francis now living in San Francisco, he did some session work with Lightning Hopkins, John Lee Hooker and Albert Collins. He started to work steadily at a strip club on Broadway, The Chi Chi Club. A highlight of 1976 for Francis was when he played a Bicentennial performance in Washington D.C. with Sonny Rhodes on slide guitar and vocals, Oakland’s L.C. “Good Rockin” Robinson on guitar and vocals, and Wild Willie Moore on piano—what a crew!

In the 1970’s, Francis started having major breathing problems and had to stop playing.

Francis’ main influence on drums was the great Art Blakey—not a bad choice. Francis occasionally gives lectures on music, gives poetry readings and plays with his big orchestra, which includes one violin, a cello and several horns. Connie Zia, Francis’ life long love for the past 56 years (they were married and divorced 2 times) past away in April of this year. He misses her very much. Francis is very proud, though, and happy about the way that many of his friends have shown respect and support through these hard times.

Francis says, “Music is a lifetime job—music is not a job—because you love it. A job is something you toil with. Music is a part of you and it lasts all your life. People say I’m retired. I am not retired. I will never retire from music. I am not always able to play, but when I am, look for me. I’ll be there. I’ll be back on the circuit soon—so LOOK OUT! (Francis laughs).”Long live the blues!”

Francis recently played on 2 CDs from local Bay Area blues artists Red Archibald and Pete Sears. He also played on Roy Roger’s new CD!

In parting I’d personally like to say that Francis Clay played with the great Muddy Waters in Muddy’s prime. Not that many people can say that. I got to meet Francis in 1967 and got to see him weave his magic and spread his joy through his creative playing. He put the real shit behind Cotton—Lord Have Mercy! His sticks and brushes are in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, The Hard Rock Cafe and the Smithsonian Institute in Washington D.C. Yes, Francis Clay is the gentleman of the blues and a true and real American treasure to be treasured.

Francis is available for festivals, workshops, lectures and special gigs!
Francis Clay’s number is: (415) 357-1714.

©2002 John P. Acerno (AKA Johnny Ace)