The record changer (Jan-Dec 1952)

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8 tin roof anthology The old boll-weevil of jazz, as tough as the ballad beetle they couldn't kill, Satchmo Armstrong finds a home on every bandstand, singing still. The voice is like blue duckin's tearing — "Oh, Lawdy, Lawdy, why was I born' is not for Pops. He' has the answer: to hit those high ones with his horn. Bessie Smith I lived a blues song, died in one and signed it with my blood on a long old lonesome road in Mississippi. poetry by howard wolf illustrated by bob gill Huddie Ledbetter Huddie Ledbetter came out on pardon with a thousand songs from behind the wall. He died and they flogged Irene to death — Lead Belly, good night, and pardon us all. Charles "Buddy" Bolder) Night times in Tin Type Hall I blew the loudest horn for the lowest down in New Orleans. Day times the hall was the hustlers' morgue where they laid out the killed ones stiff as boards. They had the luck. I blew my top and couldn't kick off till they'd had me in the funny house twenty-four years.