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In Memoriam, Reverend John Wilkins: A Life Well Lived

After a prolonged struggle with COVID-19 and its aftereffects, the Reverend John Wilkins, renowned singer, songwriter and player of gospel blues, passed away on Tuesday, October 6th. He was 76. This comes as a double blow to those who saw hope in Wilkins’ seemingly successful struggle with the coronavirus, as detailed in Chris McCoy’s recent profile of survivors.

Born and raised in Memphis, Wilkins also had deep ties to Mississippi, having served as pastor at Hunter’s Chapel in Como since 1985. By then he had already contributed a lifetime of blues guitar playing, including a stellar performance on O.V. Wright’s “You’re Gonna Make Me Cry.” But more than a dozen years ago, he was moved to return to music, embracing a blend of gospel and blues that won him many fans internationally. (Read The Memphis Flyer’s 2019 overview of Wilkins’ life here). Wilkins came to embrace playing music both sacred and profane, saying, “People got to realize I listen to blues. That ain’t gonna send me to hell — the way I live is what’s gonna send me to hell.”
Alex Greene

Rev. John Wilkins and Stewart Copeland

Wilkins’ services in Como, and an interview with drummer and composer Stewart Copeland, were recently featured in the BBC series, Stewart Copeland’s Adventures in Music.

Traveling with him through most of his tours was friend, manager and sometime bass player Amos Harvey, who recalled Tuesday’s events. “I was actually on my way to visit him yesterday morning, and his daughter Tangela called me and said ‘Dad’s taken a turn for the worse.’ A little while later he passed away. So I was up there for a long time at the hospital and then just drove around Memphis kinda aimlessly, processing it a little bit. It was just a long, hard day.”

Because of COVID-19, Harvey noted, processing Wilkins’ death is all the more difficult. “I don’t want to be bitter while remembering Rev. Wilkins,” said Harvey, “but he absolutely would still be here today had it not been for the lack of leadership in this country. The President knew about it in February! He should have done the mask mandate and the shutdown a month and half early, and it would have lessened the severity of the virus. And hundreds of thousands of people would not be ill or dead. It’s directly related. That’s the truth.”

Harvey went on to describe Wilkins’ long struggle of dealing with COVID’s fallout. “He’d been doing dialysis three times a week ever since he got out of the hospital four months ago. The aftereffects of ‘beating Covid’ finally wore him out. He fought like hell for six months and these aftereffects took him down.

Reverend John Wilkins

“He had so much more life to him. He was a strapping 76-year-old before this happened. Able to travel all over the world. Of course there were festivals booked for this year that were canceled and rescheduled for next year, but more bookings came throughout these past six months for European shows. He loved traveling overseas, and he loved taking his daughters overseas. He loved playing music, but he loved doing it with his family even more.”

Daughters,Tangela Longstreet, Joyce Jones and Tawana Cunningham, his sole surviving family members, recorded with Wilkins as well, figuring prominently on his latest album, Trouble, released last month by Goner Records (and recently profiled in The Memphis Flyer).

“He wanted to feature them,” Harvey said. “And I think we did a good job, and that feels good, that we got to put this record out to the world, with Goner and his hometown, and they love and respect him so much. I’d send him and his daughters reviews as they were coming out, and he would be real happy. I would play him clips from old shows and that would really make him light up and hope for the better.”

There are no plans at present for memorial services, but Harvey noted that there will be on-air and online remembrances. “The Deep Blues Festival in Clarksdale had already planned to have a tribute to him, even before he passed away, because he usually closed out the festival on Sundays. Now, since it’s live-streamed, I want to compile a lot of different videos of him playing gigs and preaching. So that will be an online tribute, broadcast through the Deep Blues Festival on October 18th. And DJ Swamp Boogie, who’s always been a big supporter, is gonna do a tribute on his show, Thursday, October 15th, on WWOZ.”

In the meantime, Wilkins’ family, congregation, and many fans are struggling to adjust. As Harvey says, “Not only did he touch the crowds he played for, but for us playing with him, it made your fricking day. That’s why you play music, is to feel like you feel when you’re playing with him. And we were lucky to have Wallace [Lester] and Kevin [Cubbins], who’ve been with us almost the entire time. None of us were making a living off it, but that didn’t matter. And everybody else that played with him felt it was an honor to play with him. He would immediately welcome new players into the band.”

Reflecting for a moment, Harvey said, “It’s hard to know we’re not gonna go onstage and make those memories and feelings happen again, you know?”

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Music Music Features

Rev. John Wilkins: Saving Us From Trouble

Zac Ives fondly remembers an evening some years ago, as he and his Goner Records colleagues were preparing for a show outside the late, great Buccaneer Lounge. “This big dude rolled up on his motorcycle,” Ives tells me, “helmet on, fringe leather jacket. We were like, ‘Whoa, who is this guy?'” They were taken aback by the answer. “He took his helmet off and it was the Reverend! He said, ‘Hey, what’s going on guys?’ We were going, ‘Oh my God!'”

“Oh my God” is an apt reaction to the magnetism and talent of the Rev. John Wilkins. “He’s this sort of iconic guy in town,” Ives adds, and he should know. Goner has booked the gospel blues performer (and pastor at Hunter’s Chapel in Como, Mississippi) for their annual Gonerfest at least three times, and he’s seen the response that the Reverend elicits from listeners. “In fact, one of my favorite Gonerfest memories ever was when he played the last set at sunset on a Saturday afternoon, six or seven years ago. It was one of those magical moments. We got a lot of punk rockers in leather jackets tearing up, watching this totally spiritual performance.”

Adam Smith

Rev. John Wilkins

So, while the Goner imprint is more typically associated with punk or alternative music, it’s not a far stretch to imagine the Reverend on the edgy Memphis label. With Trouble, the full-length album due out September 18th, that will become a reality. Amos Harvey, who manages and plays bass for Wilkins, thinks it’s a perfect fit. “We’re excited about being with Goner because they love Rev. Wilkins and it’s local, so they totally get it and respect all the different genres he’s mashing together to make this gospel blues.”

Harvey emphasizes the diversity of influences on Trouble. While Wilkins is most often associated with the country gospel blues that his father, Rev. Robert Wilkins, perfected in the mid-20th century (including “Prodigal Son,” covered by the Rolling Stones), his lifetime of playing on blues and soul records has brought many other flavors to the mix. Not the least of which are the voices of his daughters, Tangela Longstreet, Joyce Jones, and Tawana Cunningham.

“The record is very eclectic,” Harvey says. “He wanted to feature his daughters on this record. The first record was him and they sang backup on a few songs, but he wanted this to feature them more. And I think we did a good job with that. Not every song sounds the same. It’s almost like a compilation, in a way.”

The end result shows the influence of artists as diverse as Ray Charles, Junior Kimbrough, and Bill Withers, among others. In casting such a wide net, it didn’t hurt to have a crack band navigating the changes. “We recorded it with this amazing rhythm section. With Charles Hodges [on organ], Steve Potts [on drums], and Jimmy Kinnard on bass. They just locked in. And it was really sweet and fulfilling when each one of them separately said ‘We are enjoying this. This is music that we grew up on.’ I would play a demo like twice, and then they just had it. And of course, Rev. Hodges interpreted what was needed on organ beautifully. His ability to just feel it was amazing.”

The sessions, produced by Harvey and engineered by Boo Mitchell, took place in November of 2018, but couldn’t be more timely today. The lead single, “Trouble,” was released online three weeks ago and will be followed by “Walk With Me,” to be released this Thursday. Both seem particularly salutary in this year of disasters.

“He sings ‘Walk With Me’ with Tangela, his middle daughter,” says Harvey, “and he tells the story of how his dad would sing that on the front porch when he was young. And his mother would sing with them and beat a tambourine. It moves him just to think about it.”

And surely such memories have helped the good Reverend weather his own personal struggle this year, detailed in Chris McCoy’s July 29th Flyer cover story about COVID-19 survivors. Wilkins has survived his bout with the virus but remains in the hospital for regular post-COVID treatments. He’s seen trouble firsthand, but for all that, he knows how best to soldier on. And that can help us all. As Harvey notes, “You don’t have to be religious to enjoy this. Rev. Wilkins’ music is moving. He and his daughters make something happy, something that you’re not expecting.”

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Cover Feature News

Survivors! Five Victims of Coronavirus Tell Their Stories

Since the novel coronavirus pandemic came to the Memphis area, more than 18,000 people have come down with COVID-19. As of this writing, 259 people have died. Four months after a state of emergency was declared, the numbers continue to tick upwards with no end in sight.

The Flyer spoke with survivors who volunteered to tell their stories. These people have experienced a disease that simply didn’t exist in humans a year ago. Several common themes emerged. Most strikingly, everyone we spoke with appears to have lasting effects from their brush with the virus. Here are five stories of fear and strength in the face of the unknown.
Mike Maple

Jeff “Bunny” Dutton

Jeff “Bunny” Dutton is a musician and recording engineer. His partner Suzy Hendrix is a visual artist who specializes in stained glass. Dutton’s first symptoms appeared in early March, when he was working in the studio. “I remember setting up mics for recording, and all of the large muscles in my body were aching like I was lifting cars the day before.”

After a successful weekend in the studio, Dutton and his friends went out for drinks.
“It was a Sunday, and a large group was at a Mexican restaurant,” he says. “We were all planning on this being our last night out together till the danger was over. We were pretty naive about the whole thing at the time, and didn’t think it was going to turn into a major pandemic. I was very uncomfortable. My legs were still aching and I felt restless and confused. My head was getting cloudy and I was starting to get anxious about it. I couldn’t concentrate on anything.”

The next day, Dutton couldn’t get out of bed. By mid-week, he was having trouble breathing. On Friday, March 17th, he finally went to a minor medical clinic. “They said that my lungs sounded fine and they couldn’t understand why I was in so much distress, so they gave me a COVID test just to be safe. The nurse asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital for chest X-rays. I told her I couldn’t stay on my feet any longer, and I went back home to bed. I do remember they gave me a steaming treatment that is used for asthmatics, but it did no good.

“About this time Suzy started feeling ill. Three days later my test results came back positive and Suzy went for tests. For some reason, hers was negative, and though she wasn’t nearly as sick as I was, it still wasn’t any fun.”

Dutton and Hendrix were among the first people in Memphis to experience the full course of COVID-19. “I had one night of fever and demented dreams, but for the next couple of weeks I just laid around trying to get an entire lung full of air into me,” Dutton says. “No one knew what to do or what to expect, so I had to self medicate. I chose to use aspirin, despite the crazy warnings on the internet. Later, I started finding out about all of the blood clotting doctors were finding, so I was happy with that decision. As far as spending a couple of weeks gasping for breath goes, it is the worst. I suggest practicing some sort of meditation now. You might need it someday when all you can think about for days at a time is, ‘Don’t stop breathing.’” 

With both people in the household sick, the couple turned to their community for help. “What was really great about the whole thing was friends dropping off fresh food, books, and cake, and relatives depositing cash into the bank account. Such a helpful happy bunch, you gotta love ’em.”

But navigating the health-care system and government aid programs while fighting for breath was a traumatic experience. “I’m happy that I did not need hospitalization,” Dutton says. “Tennessee is a crappy state to live in if you need medical care.”

Eventually, Dutton found he had a little more energy every morning. “I’m pretty good for five or six hours now. … Being sick was pure hell. I’m glad to be back up and about, but I have some pretty serious damage. Unless I get hit by a bus or something, one good lung infection is all it’s going to take to take me out. My days of being a social animal are probably over.”

His experience has left one enduring question. “I have no idea how I contracted the virus,” says Dutton. “Almost everyone I know was traveling around the country, or on their way back from Mardi Gras at that time. Other than Suzy, none of my friends seemed to get sick. It’s a mystery.”

Leslie K. Nelson

In late May, Leslie K. Nelson had a houseguest for a few days. On June 1st, the guest was treated for what doctors believed was heatstroke. It was COVID-19. “Around the 7th or 8th, I too was sick,” Nelson says. “But I was much worse than my friend.”

Nelson’s guest had 10 days of mild symptoms. Nelson was admitted to the hospital on June 11th.

“I called because I couldn’t breathe,” she says. “I was coughing, constant migraine, hot, sweaty, hurting all over. I could not focus at all. I was immediately admitted.”

Nelson was given oxygen and intravenous fluids in the hospital. Everyone entering her room was required to wear protective gear. “I only saw a doctor the first couple days. I had questions. The nurses would tell me to bring that up with the doctor. I did request to see him a few times. My questions and concerns went unanswered. Honestly, I know they’re busy, I know they’re understaffed, I know they’re overworked. But I was made to feel like I was bothering them.”

Nelson says the headaches were constant, accompanied by mental confusion, the “CoFog.” She found herself unable to do even basic tasks for herself. “The weakness is a different type of fatigue than I’ve ever experienced.”

After eight days, Nelson was sent home in an ambulance. She was still so weak she had to be strapped into a gurney for the journey. “They told me there were patients in the emergency room that needed my room. They sent me home even though I couldn’t take care of myself.”

Nelson says her friends and family have rallied around her. “They’ve picked up my medications, brought me groceries — because, remember, I can’t go out. Even if I could, I don’t have the energy or brain power yet. One friend brought me the Huey’s veggie burger I had been craving. A neighbor and close friend made it a point to get my mail out of the mailbox and drop off at my door because I’ve been too weak to go to the mailbox. Then there have been the homemade soups and chocolates. I couldn’t have survived without my friends.”

Today, Nelson is still feeling the effects of the virus. She is one of the people known in medical circles as “long haulers.” Her fever never went away, and no period of recovery has proven to be permanent. “Symptoms develop at different times, even new ones, like tendinitis and ringing in my ears/head,” She says. “My taste never totally went away. It changed, got weird. Some things got really awful. Chocolate tasted like oil.”

Nelson decided to document her experiences on Facebook with a series of posts called “My No Pity Covid-19 Symptoms.”

“I was starting to feel pretty down, discouraged. I had to find a way to be productive. I needed to have a purpose, help in some way,” she says. “For anybody just starting to go through it, the unknown is scary. Reading the illness’ effects from somebody that doesn’t have a political agenda gives it validity,” she says. “No one would, or could, give me any answers. If one person reads my story and now wears a mask — which has happened — or if someone laying in a bed alone, scared, and confused derives the strength to hold on a little while longer, it will have been worth it.”

Ariana Geneva

Ariana Geneva is a 33-year-old manager at a Memphis-area restaurant. She started feeling sick in mid-June.“It was in the 90s that week, and the Saharan dust cloud was moving through the atmosphere,” she recalls. “I chalked up not being able to breathe to be my asthma, and headaches to TMJ. I grind my teeth when I’m stressed. I still worked out, ran shorter distances — under two miles at a time — but it was super difficult. I had no energy.”

At the end of June, one of her co-workers tested positive for the novel coronavirus, and the entire staff went to get tested en masse on July 1st. “We all went to the Tiger Lane testing center, sat in line, and all got turned away because we didn’t have appointments, even though the websites say that between 9 a.m. and 11 a.m. you don’t need one. The testing site operator told us all to come back the next day at 8:30 a.m. and get tested, so we did. Came back that next morning to all get turned away again.”

The crew of 15-20 people finally got tested at Methodist Hospital. Two days later, Geneva’s test came back positive. Then she spent the month of July “rotating between my couch, my desk chair, and my kiddie pool in my front yard.”

Her fever spiked to 100 F, “high enough my bones and skin hurt,” and her shortness of breath intensified. After about 72 hours, her fever broke, and soon after, she could breathe easier. “I haven’t been able to taste anything since then however.”

Geneva says her test results came back promptly, but it took weeks for some of her co-workers to find out their status. A promised follow-up call from the Health Department never came. She says she had a persistent headache, and reduced stamina. “I’ve been able to work out after the fever went away. I work out every other day, but I have not been running,” she says.

Geneva believes that restaurant workers are particularly at risk from the virus, which spreads freely in close quarters.“People who work in restaurants always get sick. The public comes in sick, gets us sick, and we are all so close to each other in operation, once one person gets sick, it spreads. … Restaurants can’t operate with people standing six feet apart. It’s just not physically possible. It’s not an office or a classroom, where you’re stationary for most of your workings. There is constant movement in a restaurant.”

Now recovered and back at work, Geneva says people who refuse to wear masks “drive me batty,” and she hopes the habit will stick around after the pandemic subsides. “I don’t hate the mask thing. Do you know how many times I’ve bartended and listened to someone hack up a lung? All while I’m like ‘Cool, I’m trapped in this five-foot space with a plague rat.’”

Nancy Wilder

Nancy Wilder is a yoga teacher and 30-year resident of Memphis who is currently living in Franklin, Tennessee. In mid-June, her daughter and her boyfriend, who still live in Memphis, thought they were coming down with COVID.

“I told them to immediately get tested, so that they could at least start getting treated as soon as possible,” Wilder says. “The very next day, I met her halfway between Memphis and Nashville. I picked up my grandson from her there. I was certain that I could take better care of him, since I felt her tests were going to be positive. I thought from my experience, being a mom of three kids and a grandmother, that I could still take good care of him, even if I caught something.”

A day later, her one-year-old grandson developed a high fever that lasted for three days. Soon afterwards, Wilder started to feel like she had bad allergies. “Then, my daughter called to say, yes, her tests were positive. So then I said, ‘Okay, these weird things that are happening to me have got to be COVID,’ because by then I had developed a dry cough.”

The next day, she went to a clinic to get checked out. “When they saw me, they were used to the symptoms enough that they went ahead and got an ambulance for me and sent me to the ER, maybe because of my age of 65, maybe because I have an autoimmune disease. They were concerned for my heart, ’cause they were seeing a lot of heart problems.”

Wilder’s COVID test came back positive. “Then I knew I was in for a ride and I didn’t know what it was going to end up looking like.”

Her daughter recovered quickly, and came to retrieve her son as Wilder’s symptoms worsened. “I would never believe that would happen,” she says. “I’ve never not been able to take care of a child or someone in my household who is sick. And that was the case.”

Wilder’s doctor told her to “throw every over-the-counter medication that I could at the COVID. Medicine for cold, flu, or cough — anything I could to keep ahead of the symptoms to keep them from getting worse to where my lungs got so bad, I would have to go to the hospital.”

After 12 days of high fever, shortness of breath, and a light-headed feeling, “like I was floating above my body,” she started to improve. But it took a long time for her sense of smell and taste to come back. “About seven or eight days in, I tried to cook. I made spaghetti, and it tasted like warm pudding with texture. It was really gross.”

Wilder is now back to doing yoga two or three days a week, but her strength has not fully returned. While watching New York governor Andrew Cuomo reporting on the situation in his state on television, “I really developed a deep concern for Memphis because here I am in Williamson County, and there’s a sense here of being spread out. When I think of Memphis, with so many friends there, and my daughter and grandchildren, I think of the density. You’re much more in contact with other people. And, I thought, this is not good. This could be so serious for Memphis.”

Rev. John Wilkins

To Mid-South music fans, Rev. John Wilkins, the pastor of Hunter’s Chapel Church in Como, Mississippi, is a treasure. Like his father before him, the 76-year-old makes music at the intersection of blues and gospel that has brought him international acclaim.

Wilkins says he was feeling fine until he fell out of the back of his truck on April 1st. Three days later, he still wasn’t back on his feet, and “my back was bothering me.”

His daughter Joyce took him to the hospital at Baptist DeSoto, but the family were not allowed to come in with him. “I called and told them they were going to keep me. And that’s all I remember,” says Wilkins.

“He didn’t have any symptoms,” says Miriam Triplett, a friend. “He was admitted in the hospital for his back, and we were informed that he had pneumonia and his oxygen level was low. After his daughter received notice about that, then they informed us later on that night that he was in critical condition and he was put on a ventilator. They had to open up the airways to his lungs for oxygen, because if he didn’t, they didn’t, he was going to die that night.”

Wilkins was unconscious in the intensive care unit for 17 days while his family waited and worried. “We were scared to death, but we were just blessed that he actually made it through,” Triplett says. “The Lord really favored him, to bring him out of what he went through, because he was in critical condition. At one time, they informed us that, that he would not make it, because of him being in such bad shape. But we trusted in the Lord and prayed that he made it through, and he came to.”

“After I woke up, man, I had to come to myself and realize where I was,” Wilkins says. “And then they found a blood clot in my leg and did surgery on me.”

Wilkins was in the hospital from April 4th to May 27th. “For you not to even have no relatives to be able to come see you or anything, that’s really scary,” says Triplett. “To be alone like that, and really not knowing what’s going on with you.”

Wilkins’ only contact with the outside world came when a nurse helped him use FaceTime to talk with his family. “He couldn’t do any talking, but she could talk and let him know that he wasn’t alone,” Triplett says.

“That was a real blessing,” says Wilkins.

Wilkins is back home, but is suffering from kidney damage from the coronavirus. He is now receiving regular dialysis treatment. “I tell you something else I wish I could get rid of: Ever since I come out of the hospital, I don’t have no taste. Nothing. I cannot eat.”

Wilkins advises people not to take this pandemic lightly. “Make sure you stay with a mask. Make sure you stay in the house. Because they don’t know what you got until they get you to the hospital. I’ve had about three or four preacher friends who went to the hospital and died. They said I was the only one at Baptist who went like that and came out alive.”

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Music Music Blog

A Meeting of Musical Minds: Stewart Copeland Visits Como

Alex Greene

Rev. John Wilkins and Stewart Copeland

Como, Mississippi played host to an unlikely encounter between two musical luminaries this week, as Stewart Copeland, the drummer behind Diddy’s hit “I’ll Be Missing You” (not to mention everything ever recorded by the Police), arrived at Hunters Chapel Missionary Baptist Church to bear witness to a service presided over by Rev. John Wilkins.

Copeland was there with Nico Wasserman and Alex Black, who are producing a new three-part documentary for the BBC on the cultural power of music. For the episode on music and spiritual experience, Copeland has visited such locations as Hillsong Church in New York, CeCe Winans in Nashville, and, this past Sunday, Hunters Chapel.

Alex Greene

This follows close on the heels of the popular BBC special program On Drums, in which Copeland explored “the drums as the founding instrument of popular modern music.” The response to this was so positive that this new series, as yet untitled, was planned to explore the social impact of music more generally.

Sitting through a full service, Copeland was visibly moved by the experience, as an enthusiastic congregation and choir, led by Rev. Wilkins, sang with fervor. Some church members were so swept away as to need the assistance of ushers, who rushed down the aisles to steady and calm them. Eventually Copeland jumped to his feet and began singing and clapping with everyone else.

The congregation was gracious and welcoming to the visitors. Rev. Wilkins’ manager Amos Harvey, also in attendance, commented, “It just felt so good, so open and inclusive. It was almost hypnotic at times.”

Copeland, for his part, was glowing after the service. As the crew interviewed Rev. Wilkins on his own, Copeland sampled the victuals in downtown Como, and spoke about the power of music and his love of composition for cinematic soundtracks. “When Tom Cruise kisses a girl with all the love and sincerity he can, it’s my job to show the sinister intent behind what he’s doing,” he noted, by way of example. Beginning with 1983’s Rumble Fish, Copeland composed soundtracks for a good 20 years.

Nowadays, Copeland regularly revisits his compositions in live performances with symphony orchestras around the world. The current tour of such shows, which feature Copeland on drums, is known as Stewart Copeland Lights up the Orchestra, and will next take him to Poland and Italy for dates this June.

After lunch, Copeland returned to the church to play with Rev. Wilkins and speak to him about the spiritual significance of both gospel and the blues. The church environs, a bucolic landscape of pastures, woods, and lakes, made for a serene setting as the two waxed philosophical. As Rev. Wilkins demonstrated his father’s time-honored composition, “Prodigal Son,” Copeland joined in on a percussive frying pan from Brazil. “Would you like your eggs up or scrambled?” he quipped as they closed the song. “I guess that was pretty scrambled.”

Alex Greene

Cameraman Alex Black gets the shot as inverted Deity looks on.

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Film/TV Film/TV/Etc. Blog

Music Video Monday: Rev. John Wilkins

Music Video Monday is bringing it all together.

Last Saturday night, Beale Street Caravan held their annual Blowout party at Crosstown Arts, to celebrate moving to the Concourse. The finale of the hugely successful Blowout was a performance by Rev. John Wilkins. The current pastor of the storied Hunter’s Chapel in Como, Mississippi, Rev. Wilkins was returning from New Orleans, where he and his band, which includes his three daughters, played Jazz Fest.

Beale Street Caravan’s I Listen To Memphis series made a music video with Rev. Wilkins in 2018. Director Christian Walker and producer Waheed AlQawasmi captured the family singing “May The Circle Be Unbroken” live in the country church. Here to lift you up for the tough week ahead, is the Reverend.

Music Video Monday: Rev. John Wilkins

If you would like to see your music video featured on Music Video Monday, email cmccoy@memphisflyer.com.

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Music Music Features

Rev. John Wilkins Reflects on his Many Decades of Gospel and Blues.

Hunter’s Chapel in Como, Mississippi, has venerable links to the blues community. Not only did the legendary Fred McDowell attend services there, he recorded his 1969 album Amazing Grace with the church’s choir. And it was fife and drum master Othar Turner’s church of choice. So it’s rather fitting that the resident pastor is the Rev. John Wilkins, an heir to blues blessings in his own right.

To Wilkins, there’s no contradiction between the blues and gospel. “People got to realize I listen to blues,” he says in liner notes for an upcoming new album. “That ain’t gonna send me to hell — the way I live is what’s gonna send me to hell.” And that has long been his credo, perhaps to his late mother’s dismay. “Son, you can’t play both of ’em,” she told him. “Just pick one to play.” By that time, he’d already been mixing them up.

He learned music from his father, Robert Wilkins. By the time Robert became an ordained minister in the late 1930s, he had already recorded blues for the Victor, Brunswick and Vocalion labels. In the 1960s, while still a preacher, the elder Wilkins recut one of those early tracks, “That’s No Way to Get Along,” as the more sanctified “Prodigal Son,” a song made famous by the Rolling Stones.

Adam Smith

Rev. at Hunter’s Chapel Church

I asked Wilkins the younger if that led to any royalty checks. “Oh yeah, we still get ’em. After daddy passed, mama was getting ’em. And after mother passed, it was split between the children.” But by the time the Stones’ record came out, young John, growing up in Memphis, had already inherited a far greater reward: his father’s musical acumen.

“I started on one of them little toy plastic guitars,” he recalls. “And I kept watching daddy. That’s a gift from the good Lord.” He was soon immersed in the hopping Memphis music scene of the 1950s and 1960s. “I grew up playing with gospel groups there. Old Man ‘Bless My Bones’ Wade at WDIA. Any time a group would come from out of town, if they didn’t have a musician, he would recommend me to play for ’em. I had to play for a lot of groups while they was in town.”

He also rubbed shoulders with the era’s classic soul singers. “I played a little bit with James Carr. And I played lead guitar on ‘You Gonna Make Me Cry’ with O.V. Wright. That’s the only one I did with him.” By then, he was also exploring a more profane world.

“I was playing the gospel until I got to be about 18 years old. And then I started going to Mississippi country ‘tonks and playing the blues on Saturday, come on back and play the gospel on Sunday.” He would also play with blues luminaries in Memphis. “I got a chance to play with Fred McDowell, when my daddy played at the shell in Overton Park. I played upright bass guitar for him. And I used to play lead guitar with Memphis Minnie Downtown, back in the alleys and different places.”

That all changed in 1985, when Wilkins settled in at Hunter’s Chapel and quit guitar entirely. “I pastored there and had one blues singer that still belonged there, Othar Lee Turner. A lot of people come from overseas to his funeral, ’cause he had played everywhere, you know. And after the funeral was over, they saw my name on the program and said, ‘Hey, did you know a man by the name of Robert Wilkins?’ And that’s where I got started again. That was about 2003. And by 2008, I was in London.”

The international acclaim keeps building. For our interview, Wilkins phoned from Paris, between sound-checks for shows there, before he returns to kick off the Juke Joint Festival in Clarksdale, Mississippi, this week. And, contrary to his mother’s advice, he keeps mixing it up. “I get a little stinky. I call it stinky beat, you know. That blues beat. And I’ve had a lot of people at them blues shows, starting to shout with beer cans in their hand! They tell me, ‘Reverend Sir, I haven’t been to church since I don’t know when, and I’m going Sunday.’ So that makes me feel good.”

Rev. John Wilkins opens the four day Juke Joint Festival in Clarksdale, Mississippi, this Thursday, April 11th, at the New Roxy Theatre, 5 p.m. Free.

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Music Music Blog

The Memphis Country Blues Festival rises again

Reverend John Wilkins

These days, it seems that music festivals are blossoming like algae around the Greater Memphis Area. But it ‘s worth remembering a time when such celebrations were few and far between, and made a much greater political statement. The original Memphis Country Blues Festival of 1966 was the local counter-culture’s shot across the bow at the prevailing status quo. Held at the Overton Park Shell only a week after the Ku Klux Klan held a rally in the park, it promoted a vision of radical possibilities.

For all the details, (re)read your copy of Robert Gordon’s It Came From Memphis, which vividly evokes a rag-tag cohort of artists, musicians, and other blues fans whose utopian vision was rooted in a careful salvaging of the past – in this case, the genius of blues players like Furry Lewis or Bukka White, who had fallen into obscurity. These were heroes to many in the nascent hippie culture. They ended up throwing a party on a grand scale that included both living legends and cutting edge rock and funk.

Today, we again face the question of who to memorialize from the past and who to scorn. It’s a perfect time to revive that spirit of communal action, and it’s about to happen in two days’ time when the Levitt Shell hosts rebirth of the Memphis Country Blues Festival.

One of the key organizers of the original festival, and a performer there with Insect Trust, was musician and author Robert Palmer. His daughter Augusta Palmer, a documentary film maker, is currently working on a documentary about the original festivals that ran from 1966-69.

The Blues Society – Kickstarter Trailer from Cultural Animal on Vimeo.

The Memphis Country Blues Festival rises again

“Last year there was a commemoration of the 50th anniversary of the first blues festival,” she recalls. “And Robert Gordon and I curated a panel of people who came and talked. So Marcia Hare/Misty Blue Lavender, and James Alexander, and Jimmy Crosthwait, and Chris Wimmer, who were all part of the original events, came up. We showed a little bit of the New York Channel 13 footage that was shot of the 1969 concert. And then had all the people to talk on stage and answer questions. Yeah, it was a great conversation. Ric was there and that’s where we met, actually.”

Reviving the festival was the brainchild of promoters Ric and Stephen Whitney, cousins from Memphis who learned of the original festivals just as they were looking for fresh ideas for community events. Says Ric, “The fact that there was something that happened so long ago, and it was very innovative in terms of bringing together constituencies who didn’t necessarily spend a lot of time together, but the common denominator was music. And that was one of the things that we often talked about in terms of things we wanted to do in the city ourselves: to produce music-based shows that brought people together.” Augusta Palmer

Original poster for the Memphis Country Blues Festival

Soon after that, Ric Whitney met with Liz Levitt Hirsch, president of the Levitt Foundation in Los Angeles. “There was a salon she had at her home, actually, and we had a chance to chat about the idea in general. And then we ended up being introduced to the Levitt Shell folks in Memphis. And it sort of blossomed from there. Our biggest goal was to produce a free concert. And it worked well because the Shell produces their concert series each year, and the majority are free shows. We didn’t see this as something that we were looking at making tons of money on. We really saw it as an opportunity, really, kinda looking at what’s happening in the US today – there’s a lot of strife, a lot of miscommunication. So we wanted to come up with an opportunity for people to use music, and particularly the blues genre, as an way to bring people together.”

Palmer, naturally, will be there to document the proceedings, and may screen a trailer for her newest work. It’s a powerful moment for both her and the city, “that these two African American Memphis natives are taking on the mantle of the Blues Festival. I think my dad would have been really happy.”

It’s especially fitting that the headliner for the show was a performer at the original event: Rev. John Wilkins. Kevin Cubbins, who plays in the band, reflects, “What a lot of people don’t know is that this is a return trip for Rev. Wilkins. It’s not his first time at the Shell. And that’s not even counting the time he played with his father, delta blues and gospel icon Rev. Robert Wilkins, at one of the first Memphis Country Blues Fests in 1968. See, up until 2006, the year he retired from the City of Memphis Park Services, Rev. Wilkins was the groundskeeper and maintenance supervisor at the Shell. He was responsible for everything from keeping the grass cut to keeping the place secured and cleaned up.”

Once again, honoring the past is lighting the way forward. “It’s kind of epic,” adds Cubbins. “He was there in the golden days of the late 60’s, he was they guy holding the place together during its years of neglect, and now he’s taking the stage in it’s rebirth. Kinda cool.”


The Memphis Country Blues Festival, Levitt Shell, Saturday, September 16, 7:00 – 10:00 pm, free admission. Lineup: Reverend John Wilkins (son of Robert Wilkins); Blue Mother Tupelo (southern soul and blues, Husband & Wife duo); Cam Kimbrough (grandson of Blues legend, Junior Kimbrough).

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Music Music Blog

Gonerfest Weekend: May The Circle Be Unbroken

Gonerfest Saturday is The Longest Day.

A pair of Goners feeling the love at Murphy’s outdoor stage.

OK, it’s not like D-Day or anything. It’s just 12 hours of rock, with a short break for Pho Binh in the middle. 

Archie and the Bunkers

The Saturday day show at Murphy’s split 10 acts between two stages, one indoors and one outdoors. With low humidity and the temperature peaking out at 85 F, the weather could not have been more perfect in the venerable Midtown venue’s shaded back parking lot where the outside stage offered bands from as far afield as Ireland. Oh Boland made the trek across the Atlantic to play some no-nonsense punk that, in the idyllic conditions, sounded more uplifting than angry. King Louie’s contribution to this year’s festival, Iron Head, on the other hand, was full of nonsense—and I mean that in the best way. Louie and his New Orleans cohort plowed through a sloppy, fun set punctuated by arguments over where the guitar solo was supposed to go.
Saturday’s afternoon show is not only the most communal phase of the festival, but it’s also prime time for unexpected discoveries. This year’s big reveal was Archie and the Bunkers, a pair of brothers from Ohio who channeled Quintron and The Damned in a frenzied half-hour set. These younguns were clearly the band most excited to be playing Gonerfest, and, despite the hours upon hours of garage punk variants I was exposed to over the long weekend, it was their cover of “Neat Neat Neat” that played in a loop in my head.

The World

The World, a postpunk band from Oakland brought a welcome change of pace outside some sax-driven tunes reminiscent of James Chance and The Contortions’ No Wave dance party. Then the soundtrack to the sunset on the crowd at Murphy’s grove was provided by Spray Paint, the beloved, Goner vet noise rockers from Austin.

Sick Thoughts

Weary Goners trickling into the Hi Tone that night were greeted with the anomalously chill sound of Couteau Latex from Geneva, Switzerland. But any peaceful vibes were quickly dispelled by Sick Thoughts, a Trampoline Team side project from New Orleans whose singer DD Owen bashed around the stage like a cocaine fueled bull in a nunnery. After repeated leaps into the crowd, he finished the set off by basing headfirst into the drum set, where he and the drummer lay for a long moment in a tangle of equipment. I was about to yell for a medic when they finally stirred to leave the stage. I guess they were just resting.

Control Freaks

One man band don’t get much weirder than Bloodshot Bill, the Canadian psychobilly rambler who had to take the stage as the sound guys cleaned up the destruction left behind by Sick Thoughts. You have to be brave to pull off a full solo routine like that, and Bloodshot Bill bantered fearlessly with the audience between strange songs where his voice veered between singing, screeching, yodeling, and a vocal fry that approached tibetan throat singing territory. Then the Control Freaks from San Francisco alternated between sounding like a Mack truck barreling down the 101 and a barrage of insulting anti-humor from Friday night’s MC Greg Lowery.

Kid Congo and the Pink Monkey Birds

The California trend continued with fellow San Franciscans Midnite Snaxx, and the Saturday night headliner, Kid Congo & The Pink Monkey Birds. Headlining Saturday night is a double-edged sword, because the crowd is going to be thoroughly worn out by 1 AM, but the best acts manage to overcome the audience’s rubbery legs. Kid Congo was one of those acts. I didn’t think I was going to make it more than one or two songs, but I ended up staying until the bitter end, and dancing harder than I had all fest. Big kudos to Kid Congo!

Rev. John Wilkins

I was going to write this blog post on Sunday, but I found my brains turned to mush, so my wife and I wandered over to watch Gonerfest end where it began, in the Cooper-Young gazebo. A few years ago, the Mid South’s own Rev. John Wilkins was introduced to the Goner crowd with a deep set of soul-tinged gospel delivered at the Murphy’s sunset slot. I wrote at the time that we here in Memphis are jaded by all the amazing soul and blues that permeates the air like the perfume of blossoms in the springtime, but the out-of-towners from Australia, New Zealand, Germany, Japan, The Netherlands, Switzerland, and the UK werre slack-jawed in amazement when presented with The Real Thing. This happened again on Sunday at the Gazebo, when the Rev led his impromptu congregation through soul claps and call-and-response celebrations of life, brother- and-sisterhood. By the end, he and his crack band had us all beseeching the heavans with a Stax-y rendition of “May The Circle Be Unbroken”. It was the perfect illustration of the Saturday night/Sunday morning dichotomy that defines Memphis music’s unique appeal, and the perfect capper for one of the best Gonerfests ever.