You might say that the Blues Brothers were born in the bleak, incessant rain of the Pacific Northwest, althought they would like you to believe that they came from the alleys of Chicago's South Side. Filming the popular slapstick, Animal House, in Eugene, Oregon, last year, John Belushi found solace in those dank nights listening to the blues of Delbert McClinton, Junior Wells and Otis Redding. Although Belushi had grown up in blues-infested Chicago, he somehow passed over the soulful introspection of Lightnin' Hopkins in favor of jackhammer rock 'n' roll like Led Zeppelin. It's hardly the classic path which soul men of the past have followed, but the weather of western Oregon can make anyone take a hard look inside. And in the steady thump of the Oregon raindrops, Belushi first heard "da blooze."
The comedian had banged on drums with small-time garage bands in his hometown of Chicago, and felt himself to be a competent singer, who could outshout Joe Cocker at his own primal screaming. And he knew that his friend Dan Aykroyd had played the blues harp as a school-boy in Canada. Returning to New York to resume TV work on "Saturday Night Live," Belushi hooked up with Aykroyd and told him about this crazy idea he had. Not one to turn his back on a crazy idea, Aykroyd snapped at it. "Yeah," he growled in his lowliest blues voice, and Joliet Jake (Belushi) and Elwood Blues (Aykroyd) became the Blues Brothers. But as all blues singers must, first da boys hadda pay dem dues.
Jake and Elwood went and got themselves some cheap drugstore sunglasses, a couple of baggy black suits that look like they were tossed out by Al Capone, and proceeded to hire just about the best backup band that anyone could want. After a few stunning trial runs of "Saturday Night Live" (which left people hoping the Blues Brothers were more than just another off-beat skit), they took the whole package to Los Angeles, where they recorded a live album at the Universal Amphitheatre. The LP, Briefcase Full of Blues (Atlantic Records), shot right up the charts of Billboard, rocketing from #70 to #7 in just one week, and before long, hitting #1.
Despite the obvious theatrics (they are, after all, comedians first), there now remains little doubt as to the musical sincerity of Joliet Jake and Elwood Blues. It's their own potion for curing the dread Disco Disease.
"We have to play this way or we can't hear it! And it really should be heard," Belushi has said. "There just aren't that many places where you can go to hear blues anymore."
A cynic might question whether or a bulging comedian wearing Chicago hoodlum duds can really play the blues; but whatever you choose to call their first effort, the reception the album and their live performances have received so far has been overwhelming. During a short, but critically sweet tour, the Blues Brothers opened for the Grateful Dead in San Francisco. From the minute they stepped onstage at Winterland, with Belushi unlocking the briefcase handcuffed to Elwood's wrist so he could extract his harp, the crowd ate up the high-energy, funky act. Elwood looked like cartoonist R. Crumb's Flakey Foont on speed, two-stepping to "Soul Man," while the rotund Joliet Jake cartwheeled around the stage. The purposefully -silent Elwood tore himself away from his harmonica long enough to sing "Rubber Biscuit," the runaway hit from the album, proving that yes, he can actually sing "Err rabba hedda waddaya jugga waddaya" as fast as he does on record. Meanwhile, Joliet Jake would grab the mike as if he were squeezing a rattlesnack by the neck, and then growl down its throat.
"I gave up cigarettes, but I didn't give up smoking'," Jake confessed to the crowd during a monologue between tunes. It was a line he'd used before, but that was part of a well-polished act.
The nine-piece band--including Tom Scott (of the L.A. Express) on sax, Matt Murphy and Steve Cropper (a veteran rhythm and blues musician with a history dating to the heyday of Stax/Volt Records) on guitars and, and Cropper's old sidekick Donald "Duck" Dunn on bass--was all business. Some of the finest players around, they concoct an evocative sound as tight as a rubber band around today's newspaper. Elwood blows a passable harp and Jake's voice is appealing in a crude way--but even Amy Carter could sound good in front of his band. Still, to Belushi and Aykroyd's credit, they found the formula to bring the music together.
It's doubtful that the success of the Blues Brothers signifies a renewed interest in the classic blues they borrow so heavily from, and quite probably, many who are buying their record never even heard of Sam and Dave. The Brudders' remakes are done with a distinctly contemporary flair, but it's also doubtful that their backup band would have created any waves of their own--this is a case of the gimmick (the personalities) getting the business. Passing some rainy nights away with his favorite R&B just happened to give Belushi an idea that panned out.
Briefcase Full of Blues has already gone platinum. The tour was a virtual sell-out. And Universal Studios has contracted Aykroyd to write a screenplay around the Blues Brothers, featuring Jake and Elwood themselves. John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd may continue to sing the blues, but they'll be doing it while jangling a lot of change in their pockets.