Frank Edwards (b. March 20, 1909 in Washington, GA, d. March 22, 2002 in Greenville, SC) was a blues guitarist, harmonica player and singer. He was variously billed as Mr. Frank, Black Frank and Mr. Cleanhead.
Edwards was born in Washington, Georgia, United States. He recorded for four record labels in his career; Okeh Records in 1940, Regal Records in 1949, and Trix Records in the mid-1970s. Some more recent sessions were done for the Music Maker Relief Foundation. His most noted recordings were "Three Women Blues" and "Terraplane Blues".
Frank Edwards died of a heart attack in Greenville, South Carolina, while being driven back to his Atlanta, Georgia home, after completing his final recordings at the age of 93.
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By Eugene Chadbourne
Like quite a few country blues performers, Frank Edwards could not be said to have consistent gigging and recording opportunities during his nearly 80 years in the music business. His recording career began in the early '40s on the Okeh label, resulting in a small number of sides that nonetheless seem to have had some kind of impact, even catching the attention of a large New York City booking agency that normally promoted more "uptown" types of entertainment, such as dance orchestras or radio performers. In the mid-'40s, the Taps Agency was attempting to create enough interest in Edwards to lure him back to the big city from Atlanta, an event that unfortunately never took place. As it turned out, Edwards would not release recordings again for decades. In the late '40s, producer Fred Mendelsohn of the Regal label cut several tracks with Edwards in Atlanta, but this material was not released commercially until the '60s. The Trix label finally put out a full album of Edwards in 1972 entitled Done Some Travelin', and it is considered a masterpiece.
Edwards' professional life also follows the pattern of country blues artists who headed north from Mississippi circa the second World War. His traveling partner at the time was fellow bluesman Tommy McClennan. Edwards recorded for Okeh producer Frank Melrose in 1941, eight sides in which the backup was provided by Robert Brown, also known as Washboard Sam. The release of these sides was unfortunately impacted by the outbreak of the war and the resulting recording ban, although several of the songs did come out. Following this venture, Edwards headed back south, choosing Atlanta and apparently staying put there.
Edwards covered guitar, harmonica, and vocals, and really did not need any other backing. His repertoire included quite original interpretations of blues and jazz standards such as "Good Morning Little School Girl" and "When the Saints Go Marching In," as well as original songs on a variety of subjects: prison ("Alcatraz Blues"), clothing styles ("Mini Dress Wearer"), and, well, chicken raids ("Chicken Raid"). Despite the appeal of such material, he was not able to consistently support himself as a musician, finding work as a carpenter, painter, and plumber. But except for two years following a house fire that burned up his guitar, he always played the blues. A scant two hours prior to his death, Edwards completed a recording session in North Carolina. He suffered a heart attack on the ride home and died in an ambulance on the way to the hospital.
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Music Maker Relief Foundation:
Mr. Frank Edwards, elder statesman of Atlanta's blues community, died Friday, March 22, 2002 in Greenville, SC. He was 93. Born March 20, 1909, in Washington, GA, Edwards left home at 14 after a disagreement with his father, bound for St. Augustine, Florida. He bought a guitar and began learning to play, receiving encouragement from guitarist Tampa Red (a.k.a. Hudson Whittaker). Later, Edwards took up harmonica, drawing inspiration from John Lee "Sonny Boy" Williamson and others.
Music Maker Relief Foundation provided Mr. Frank Edwards with a monthly stipend for prescription medicine. He was in retirement for 10 years before Music Maker brought him out for many years of touring and performances throughout Georgia. Music Maker also helped Frank record a CD, and featured him in the book Music Makers: Portraits and Songs from the Roots of America (2004). Edwards traveled extensively through the 1930s by bus or train, "hoboing" when he had to while he learned his trade as a street musician. He moved to Atlanta in 1936. An association with Mississippi bluesman Tommy McClennan led to Edwards' first recording session in 1941. He recorded again in 1949 and released a full-length LP, Done Some Tr avelin' (later reissued on CD) on the Trix label in 1973. He also supported himself as a carpenter, painter and plumber, but always played music, except for a two-year period when a house fire left him without a guitar. In a career that spanned nine decades, Edwards saw blues evolve from an exclusively black folk music form into a commercial entity that was embraced by both whites and blacks. When he began playing music, "didn't nothing like [blues] then but black [people]," Edwards said in a 1998 interview. "Didn't none play it but black. After so many years, white folks caught the blues. Now that's what they want to hear. They liked it all that time, but they was ashamed to listen to it, because nothing played it but black[s]. They'd just buy the records, get in the basement with a gallon of liquor, drink it and listen to the blues. I hear a heap of 'em say it." Fittingly, the last months of Edwards' life—in fact, the last hours—were spent playing the music that he loved. In fact, he'd enjoyed a relative flurry of activity, performing at the Atlanta History Center for its "Nothin' But the Blues" series and at the Georgia Music Hall of Fame annex at Discover Mills in Lawrenceville, GA. On the day he died, Edwards had completed a recording session with Tim Duffy. He was returning home, riding with Atlanta area blues supporters Larry Garrett and Lamar Jones, when he suffered a heart attack in Greenville, SC. He died in an ambulance en route to the hospital. The March 22 session featured seven songs, including new, original material, with John Ferguson playing drums in support, says Tim Duffy, Music Maker's founder. Duffy says that recording, which included two previous sessions, was complete and Music Maker had planned to "fast track" the CD and have copies in Edwards' hands within weeks. "He played the best I've ever heard him play," Duffy says of Edwards' last session. "He was blossoming. He had his own distinctive style that he never let go of."
Edwards had been working on the Music Maker recording since 1995, Duffy says. Edwards initially recorded a solo session in Atlanta (you can hear his "Chicken Raid" on the recently released Blues Came to Georgia CD, issued jointly by Music Maker and the Georgia Music Hall of Fame) and had recorded in 2001 in a band setting with Danny "Mudcat" Dudeck. Edwards expressed frustration in dealing with the recording industry, but was pleased to work with Music Maker. "Tim Duffy is a pretty fair fellow, 'bout the straightest one I met yet," said Edwards in 1998. "Don't none of these record companies believe in paying nothing much. Most of them are deadbeats, cheaters and swindlers. They don't pay nothing, but they make good money." Locally, however, the Atlanta blues appreciated and acknowledged Edwards' contributions and his status in the community. On March 20, two days before his death, Edwards was the guest of honor at his annual birthday bash at the Northside Tavern. Organized by Danny "Mudcat" Dudeck, the party featured performances by many local blues musicians, including Cora Mae Bryant, Eddie Tigner, Carlos Capote, Ross Pead, Donnie McCormick and others. The evening concluded with Edwards playing for roughly an hour, backed by Jim Ransone on guitar, Dave Roth on bass and Evan Frayer on drums. "He was strong, the strongest I've ever seen him [play]," Dudeck says. "Ever since I've known him, he's just gotten better and better. But he was on fire [that night], and I'm not the only one to say that… He went out at the top of his game, with brand new songs, with fire, with a big party. He knew he was loved." Adds guitarist Ransone: "Mr. Frank was such a total inspiration to still be going at it at 93. It was inspiring how much he loved music." Cora Mae Bryant, daughter of longtime Piedmont blues musician Curley Weaver, recalls Edwards performing with her father and uncle around Conyers and Covington in the 1940s and '50s. "They would play at barbecues and fish fries, play at people's houses. We used to party, get [dressed] sharp and get on out with the music. "We used to call him Mr. Cleanhead," Bryant says fondly, referring to Edwards' lack of hair. "We loved Mr. Frank's music."
When not performing, Edwards was a regular at local clubs, appearing virtually every night at Blind Willie's, the Northside Tavern, or other venues. Vocalist Francine Reed remembers: "He was a good friend. I love him and I'm going to miss him. [But] his spirit will always be with us, of that there is no doubt." For blues bandleader Beverly Watkins, Edwards was "beyond an artist. I'd say he was a minister in music." Watkins also says that Edwards was "like a father to me. My dad died about four years ago, and I could go up to [Mr. Frank] and tell him a little something that wasn't going right in my life, and he'd listen and give me some ideas. That made me feel real good." Such was typical of Edwards. His approach to life was to "do right by people," Dudeck says. "Any time anybody asked him about his success or his longevity, he said, 'You've just got to treat people right.'" ~ Bryan Powell