"Blues Run the Game"

Jackson C. Frank sings to a darkened reality with a poignancy even he might not have foreseen

I heard "Blues Run the Game" before I had heard of Jackson C. Frank. I listened to "Blues Run the Game" a hundred times or so before I learned anything of Frank. 

Song: "Blues Run the Game"

Artist: Jackson C. Frank

Year: 1965

Album: Jackson C. Frank (self-titled)

Writer: Jackson C. Frank

Producer: Paul Simon

When you think about what hooks you to a song, it's almost certainly the music first, right? At least if you're coming into a song cold. “Blues Run the Game” was no different for me. The melancholy guitar riff at the start of this song drew me in -- sad but maybe with the slightest tinge of hope. 

Then, in a haunting voice, come the first two lines ... 

Catch a boat to England baby
Maybe to Spain

... and I'm immediately on the journey. Then come the next four ...

Wherever I have gone
Wherever I've been and gone
Wherever I have gone
The blues are all the same

And the journey is emotional. 

Sometimes, I get sad. Maybe even often. Sometimes, it's for a particular reason. Sometimes, I have to hunt for the reason. Sometimes, I can't find the reason. 

I've spent my adult life with this, and I will say that one difference now, thanks to therapy, is that I understand the importance of hope. If you can retain a shred of hope that things will get better, understanding the sadness can pass, it makes a huge difference. On the sea of sadness, it's a life raft.

That said, I completely know the feeling of hopelessness.  

This is the second song in the first five Slayed by Voices that references the blues directly. In "Red Dirt Girl," Emmylou Harris wrote and sang "One thing you don't know about the blues when you got 'em, you keep on falling because there ain't no bottom. There ain't no end."

Frank sums it all up in his first verse.

As I indicated, a year or two passed before I learned anything about Frank. When I started looking up his background, I thought I'd find that this song captured a slice of his personality.

Before long, I realized the song was also his biography.

In 1995, 30 years after “Blues Run the Game,” T.J. McGrath introduces us to the story: 

... Because he is severely disabled (both of his legs are crippled and he has lost his eyesight in one eye), he has been living on state aid. For many years, especially in the 1980s, he was homeless and roaming the streets of New York City or in the hospital receiving treatment for depression. For the past year he has been residing in the Woodstock area. He still makes it to a few clubs on occasion.

Frank's voice is steady and his words are clear, direct, and carefully chosen. "I was born in Buffalo, New York in 1943," he said. "We soon moved to Elyria, Ohio, and it was way out in the country. I was headed in the direction of singing as a kid. I had a very high tenor voice, and it was quite beautiful compared to the way I sing now."

He hesitated, just a little, when he talked about the most catastrophic event of his life. "A few years later we moved to an upstate New York town called Cheektowaga, when I was 11. The brand new school there was made out of brick but it had a wooden annex that was used for music instruction. It was heated by a big furnace. One day during music lessons in the annex the furnace blew up. I was almost killed on that day. Most of my classmates were killed in that terrible fire. I still am badly scarred because of that accident. I spent seven months in the hospital recovering from the burns experienced during the fire."

Recovering from the fire was painfully slow for Frank. His school tutor, Charlie Casatelli, came to the hospital to help Frank with his lessons. He brought along an old guitar to help keep his student's spirits up. It was then that Frank decided that he wanted to play the guitar. He bought a Montgomery Ward guitar with some money his mother let him borrow, and he soon knew a few chords. He practiced until he convinced his mother to buy him an electric guitar. With his first "real" guitar -- a Gretsch Streamliner -- under his arm, he was able to learn enough chords to play rock and roll. …

As McGrath writes, Frank’s recovery from the fire introduced him to the guitar that set him down his personal path. That boat to England he catches in the first line of “Blues Run the Game?” That was paid for by an insurance settlement from the blaze.

At age 22, Frank earned an offer from no less than Paul Simon to produce his record, which was a critical success. (Simon and Garfunkel in fact recorded a cover version of the song, but it’s a little too casual and doesn’t capture the pain.)

But the album didn’t sell. Meanwhile, Frank could not shake the physical or mental scars.

Frank had a childhood sweetheart named Marlene du Pont, who died in the fire. On the same album today, you can hear the song “Marlene,” a song permeated by a bluesy edge, fully immersed in the physical and mental scars, beginning and ending with these lyrics:

The ghost of her
Floats over there
And the smile, the smile
It seems so lonely
She gave me her hand
As I struck up the band
And she seemed to sigh, she seemed to sigh
"You're the only"

And then we danced like two snowflakes
In the fallen wind
In the wind
And if I ever go
Won't you let Marlene come in

In “Blues Run the Game,” without a Marlene beside him, Frank falls back on a loveless partner.

Send out for whiskey baby
Send out for gin
Me and room service honey
Me and room service babe
Me and room service
Well we're living a life of sin

But room service can’t replace what he’s lost. Nor can alcohol, nor can anything in the waking world.

When I'm not drinkin' baby
You are on my mind
When I'm not sleepin' honey
When I ain't sleepin' mama
When I'm not sleepin'
Well you know you'll find me crying

After this album, popular tastes shifted away from Frank. His personal problems, both physical and mental, began to envelop him, without escape.

Try another city baby
Another town
Wherever I have gone
Wherever I've been and gone
Wherever I have gone
The blues come followin' down

Although his earlier material was re-released, Frank never recorded another record. He never fully recovered his career or his self. In 1999, at age 56, he died.

He died two decades before I, now in my 50s, first heard of him. 

Livin' is a gamble baby
Lovin's much the same
Wherever I have played
Whenever I've thrown them dice
Wherever I have played
The blues have run the game

I lament the untapped potential and underappreciated talent of Frank. At the same time, I can't help but be grateful for this song. It moves me every time I hear it.

We make our way through our lives, best as we can. We can be lucky, we can be happy, we can be fulfilled. 

Near the end of the song, there’s this verse that begins “Maybe tomorrow honey,” and I’m hoping for Frankto find hope. But at the end of it, that idea is extinguished.

Maybe tomorrow honey
Someplace down the line
I'll wake up older
So much older mama
I'll wake up older
And I'll just stop all my trying

And he brings us back to where we began. Our journey ends, and nothing’s changed.

Catch a boat to England baby
Maybe to Spain
Wherever I have gone
Wherever I've been and gone
Wherever I have gone
The blues are all the same

Whatever your scars, I wish you peace of mind, if at all possible.