Show 47 - T.B. is Killing Me

Tuberculosis is a deadly disease that attacks the lungs.  It's been around since ancient times and there's something about it that compels stories about the suffering it cause.  This includes a lot of blues songs. Georgia bluesman Buddy Moss who recorded T.B. is Killing Me in 1933.  He sings that he's headed to the graveyard with T.B. 

I went to the doctor of the sea

I sat right down and he looked at me

He said Y hate to tell you but you got disease

You ain't got nothing but them old T.B.s

Oh T.B. is killing me

I used  to have friends, but none of them that I can see

mmmm, T.B. is killing me

And it won't be long before some lonely graveyard I'll be

I had a good girl and a happy home

But the T.B. got me, she left me all alone

said now, mmmm, T.B. is killing me

And it won't be long before some lonely graveyard I'll be

Now boys, these days I'm just hanging on

And it wont be long before I'll be gone

Said now, mmmm, T.B. is killing me

And it won't be long before some graveyard I will be

The disease often was a death sentence when that song was recorded.  That was due to mostly to the inadequate care available, particularly to poor black men and women.  Victoria Spivey who recorded the first of  the string of T.B. song when she made the often covered T.B. Blues in 1927.  She continued exploring the idea in 1929 with Dirty T.B Blues:

Here I lay a crying
Something is on my mind
It's midnight, I wonder where the nurse can be

I feel down, not a friend in this town
I'm blue and all alone
Sisters are gone, brothers are too
Nowhere to call my own

I can't keep from crying
Left alone while I am dying
Yes, it may look crazy, for me to beat on my knee
But if the Lord 's forgiven between the breaks(?) and T.B


Oh Lord, yes he railroaded me to the sanitarium
Its too late, too late mother, I've finished my run
This is the way all good women are done
When they got the dirty T.B.

Yes I run around for months and months
From gin mill to gin mill to honky tonks
Now its too late, yes look what I gone done
I got the dirty T.B, oh Lord, mmmm

Harmonica legend Sonny Boy Williamson recorded T.B. Blues in 1939:

Now but oh, T.B. is killing me

Now I want my body buried way down in Jackson, Tennessee

Now when I was up on my feet now I couldn't even walk down the street

For the women looking at me from my head to my feet

But oh, T.B. is killing me

Now I want my body buried way down in Jackson, Tennessee

I ain't going to buy you no more pretty dresses, I ain't going to even buy you no diamond rings
And I'm going to sell my V‑8 Ford because I don't want a doggone thing

Because oh, the T.B. is killing me

Now I want my body buried way down in Jackson, Tennessee

Well now my mother she said one thing, you know my father said the same

You keep on fooling around, Sonny Boy, they going to change your name

But I told them Oh, mama T.B. is killing me

Now I want my body buried way down in Jackson Tennessee

Well now here I am here sick baby, you know and I'm laying here in my bed

And now even won't none of my friends come and even rub my aching head

Because oh, T.B. is killing me
Now I want my body buried way down in Jackson Tennessee

In 1028, New Orleans Willie Jackson recorded his version of Victoria Spivey's T.B. Blues:

Too late, too late, too late, too late, too late
too late, too late, too late, too late, too late
I'm on my way to Denver and papa mustn't hesitate

TB is alright to have if your friends don't treat you so lowdown
TB is alright to have if your friends dont treat you so lowdown
Don't you ask 'em for no favors, they'll even stop hanging around

Oh T.B. is killing me, Oh T.B. is killing me
I am like a prisoner always wishing I was free

When I was up on my feet I couldn't walk down the street
For you women looking at me from my head to my feet
But oh now T.B. is killing me

I want my body buried in the deep blue sea
Oh oh, I got tuberculosis, consumption's killing me

In 1936, Victoria Spivey herself returned to the T.B. theme with T.B.'s Got Me

Here I lay a crying Something is on my mind It's midnight, I wonder where the nurse can be

T.B.'s got me, all my friends done throwed me down

T.B.'s got me, and all my friends done throwed me down

But they treated me so nice when I was up able to run around

Ooaah my poor lungs are hurting me so

Mmmm my poor lungs are hurting me so

I don't get no peace or comfort no matter where I go

Lord, my good man don't want me no more

MMMM my good man don't want me no more

Well I wished I was dead and in the land I'm doomed to go

Sleepy John Estes talked about consumption in Milk Cow Blues:

Now ask sweet mama let me be her kid
She says, "I might get boogied Like to keep it hid"
Well, she looked at me, she begin to smile
Says, "I thought I would use you for my man a while"
That you just don't let my husband catch you there
Now, just don't let my husband catch you there"

Now, went upstairs to pack my leaving trunk
I never saw no whiskey, the blues done made me sloppy drunk
Say, I never saw no whiskey, blues done made me sloppy drunk
Now, I never saw no whiskey but the blues done made me sloppy drunk

Now some said disease some said it was dream
But it's the slow consumption killing you by degrees
Lord, it's the slow consumption killing you by degrees
Now, it's the slow consumption and it's killing you by degrees

The songs share a lot of verses and musical ideas, but even when the lyrics are totally different they all dress abandonment by friends, family, and lovers when suffering from a disease that's going to send you to the grave.  That kind of abandonment is really the classic blues situation.

T.B. is Killing Me - Buddy Moss
Dirty T.B. Blues - Victoria Spivey
T.B. Blues - Sonny Boy Williamson
T.B. Blues - Willie Jackson
T.B.'s Got Me - Victoria Spivey
Milk Cow Blues - Sleepy John Estes

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Show 46 - Sales Tax Blues

Most American (and people around the world) are used to paying sales tax when they make a purchase. In the U.S., most of these taxes were enacted in the 1930s, so it's not surprising that blues songs were written when the taxes were new. the first sales tax was in West Virginia in 1921. The sales tax became law in Georgia in 1929, eleven other states enacted sales taxes by 1933 including Mississippi in 1932. The Mississippi Sheiks and Bo Carter recorded this song about the subject with a little introductory skit in 1934:

Say Walter, we need some cigarettes. Let's go in here and get a pack.
Ok
Hello boys, what can I do for you?
I'll have a pack of cigarettes
Alright. Here you are. Be three cents more though
What's that for?
Sales tax. Haven't you ever heard of sales tax?
Sure haven't
What's gonna happen next, man? You know they got a law here they call the sales tax
Sales tax? What is that for?
That's three cents tax on everything that's sold. They say that's the government's rule.
The government's rule? Well there's a lot of things sold that the government knows anything about them
Well, I'll just sing you a little song about these sales tax:


These times now ain't suiting me, corn is costing a dollar and three
Oh, the sales tax is on it, oh, the sales tax is on it
Oh, the sales tax is on it, everywhere you go


Old Aunt Martha lived behind the jail
A sign on the wall saying: "Liquor for Sale"
You know, the sales tax is on it, oh, the sales tax is on it
Oh, the sales tax is on it, everywhere you go


I never seen the like since I've been born
The women got the sales tax on the stuff at home
Oh, the sales tax is on it, oh, the sales tax is on it
Oh, the sales tax is on it, everywhere you go


You know the sales tax is a pain
You used to could buy it for a dollar a round
Now sales tax is on it all over town
Oh, the sales tax is on it, oh, the sales tax is on it
Oh, the sales tax is on it, everywhere you go


I'm as lovin as a woman can be
The stuff I've got'll cost you a dollar and three
Oh, the sales tax is on it, oh, the sales tax is on it
Oh, the sales tax is on it, everywhere you go


Now, you may take me to be a fool
Everything is sold buy the government's rule
You know the sales tax is on it, oh, the sales tax is on it,
Oh, the sales tax is on it, everywhere you go

That version of the sheiks featured brothers Lonnie and Bo Chatmon (Carter) with Walter Vinson on violin. They were talking about everything now costing a dollar and three. And even the bootleggers and the prostitutes charging that extra 3 cents in sales tax for for every dollar. Two years later another great band featuring brothers explored the same theme. It's the Harlem Hamfats with Charlie and Joe McCoy singing Sales Tax on It (But It's the Same Thing).

Listen here boys, don't start no fuss
About these women, selling their stuff
Cause it's the same thing, it's the same thing
They got the sales tax on it, but it's the same thing


Some sell it high, some sell it low
It's done gone bad, and they can't sell it not more
Cause it's the same thing, it's the same thing
They got the sales tax on it, cause it's the same thing


Now I'm going up the river, to sell your sacks
It'll be here, when you get back
Cause it's the same thing, it's the same thing
They got the sales tax on it, but it's the same thing


I done been up the river, sold my sacks
I can buy, but I can't pay no tax
But it's the same thing, but it's the same thing
They got the sales tax on it, but it's the same thing


Big mama told me, little mama told me too
"Come on home, let that do"
Because it's the same thing, it's the same thing
They got the sales tax on it, cause it's the same thing


Went out last night, sure I could be fooled
Tried it once, broke my tool
Cause it's the same thing, but it's the same thing
They got the sales tax on it, but it's the same thing

Yet another brother band explored the them of sales tax on women. This time on the white country side of the fence. The Dixon Brothers of North Carolina recorded Sales Tax on the Women in 1936:

You may sales tax the flour, the lard, and the meat
Take the pennies away from me and my pals
You may sales tax everything that we have to eat
But don't put a tax upon the gals


One cent, two cents, three cents in cash
That's the way my money goes spending
But take off my hat and hit me with a bat
If you put the sales tax on the women


Now don't put the taxes on the good-looking girls
Although I know the pennies have to go
Well I wouldn't have it done for a hundred or more
The boys wouldn't stand a bit of show


One cent, two cents, three cents in cash
That's the way my money goes spending
But take off my hat and hit me with a bat
If you put the sales tax on the women


I love the little girls with their lovely little curls
If that is wrong, I hope I will repent
I would sure be sore and I couldn't love no more
If I had to pay the taxes as I went


One cent, two cents, three cents in cash
That's the way my money goes spending
But take off my hat and hit me with a bat
If you put the sales tax on the women


That's the way it goes, Uncle Sam knows
He's just torturing me and my pals
We would die with the blues without any shoes
If you put the sales tax on the gals


One cent, two cents, three cents in cash
That's the way my money goes spending
But take off my hat and hit me with a bat
If you put the sales tax on the women


Well I don't mean any harm when I step out at night
Happy times with the ladies I've spent
Sales taxes on the kisses just wouldn't be right
In my pockets I would never have a cent


One cent, two cents, three cents in cash
That's the way my money goes spending
But take off my hat and hit me with a bat
If you put the sales tax on the women

Let's get a way from the sales tax to finish up with a couple songs about different kinds of taxes. Here's a piano player who called himself Monkey Joe singing about a fishing tax in a pretty funny song called Taxes on My Pole"

I want to fish out of town, doggone my bad luck soul
I want to fish out of town, doggone my bad luck soul
If I fish out of town I've gotta pay taxes on my pole


I put good bait on my hook, then I stick my pole in the ground
I put good bait on my hook, I stick my pole in the ground
Then I lay back on the thing, just to see my carp(?) go up and down


I've got a long fishing pole, I use the best bait in town
I've got a long fishing pole, I use the best bait in town
The women run after me, just the same as I was a country clown


I've been fishing in Lake Michigan, baby I've fished in there all the time
I've been fishing in Lake Michigan, baby I've fished in there all the time
The reason I fish in Lake Michigan, I don't have to pay taxes on this pole of mine.

A few years later in 1951, folks were of course stil complaing about taxes. Ralph Willis recorded Income Tax Blues where he states his feleling about the sales tax, income tax and other taxes:

I got my income tax this morning, yes and it's gotta be paid
I got my income taxes this morning, yes and it's gotta be paid
It's a shame, it's a shame, no one taxes what my boss made


Tax on my electric, tax on my gas, I'll soon be paying tax on my yes, yes, yes
I got my income taxes this morning, yes it's gotta be paid
It's a shame, it's a shame, no one taxes what my boss made


I went to buy a pack of cigarettes, taxes up three cents
Walked out to my backyard, they put a doggone tax on my fence
I got my income taxes this morning, yes and it's gotta be paid
It's a shame, it's a shame, no one taxes what my boss made


Tax on my electric, tax on my gas, I'll soon be paying tax on my yes, yes, yes
I got my income taxes this morning, yes and it's gotta be paid
Well it hurts me yes it do, though they forget to tax my boss' made


I went to buy a cake of soap, taxes up three cents
Walked out to my backyard, they put a doggone tax on my fence
I got my income taxes this morning, yes and it's gotta be paid
It's a shame, it's a shame, though they forget to tax my boss' made


Tax on my electric, tax on my washing machine, soon be no tax left, boys, on a ten-dollar bill
I got my income taxes this morning, yes and it's gotta be paid
It's a shame, it's a shame, though they forget to tax my boss' made

Nobody likes extra cash leaving their pockets and that's why these songs pop up when new taxes are introduced. It's fascinating to see these musicians immediately consider the money that's exchanged that's beyond the vision of the government. And as always, as in ever situation in life, taxes have these men thinking about women.

Songs:
Sales Tax - Mississippi Sheiks and Bo Carter
Sales Tax on It (It's the Same Thing) - Harlem Hamfats
Sales Tax on the Women - Dixon Brothers
Taxes on My Pole - Monkey Joe
Income Tax Blues - Ralph Willis

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Show 45 - Dope Head Blues

Drugs and music seem inextricably linked. It certainly shows up in some of the early recorded blues. The word dope came around during the 19th century opium craze. But by 1927, when Victoria Spivey recorded Dope Head Blues (with Lonnie Johnson on guitar and Porter Grainger on piano) the term could apply to all kinds of drugs. Dope Head Blues is about the difficulties of drug addiction and a drug-induced delusional fantasy about being rich, important and healthy:

Just give me one more sniff of, another sniff of that dope
Just give me one more sniff of, another sniff of that dope
I'll catch a cow like a cowboy, and throw a bull without a rope


Doggone, I've got more money than Henry Ford or John D. ever had
Doggone, got more money than Henry Ford or John D. ever had
I bit a dog last Monday and forty doggone dogs went mad


Feel like a fighting rooster, feel better than I ever felt
Feel like a fighting rooster, feel better than I ever felt
Got double pneumonia and still I think I got the best health


Say, Sam
Go get my airplane and drive it up to my door
Aw, Sam, go get my airplane and drive it to my door
I think I'll fly to London, these monkey men makes mama sore


The president sent for me, the Prince of Wales is on my trail
The president sent for me, the Prince of Wales is on my trail
They worry me so much, I'll take another sniff and put them both in jail

Willie the Weeper was already an old song when Frankie "Half-Pint" Jaxon recorded it in 1927. Jaxon's version of the song would influence Cab Calloway's hit Minnie the Moocher a few years later. Willie the Weeper goes back to the Vaudeville era and tells the story of a drug-using chimney sweep that, like the protagonist of Victoria Spivey's song, engages in fantasy when he gets high:

Have you heard the story, folks, of Willie the Weeper?
Willie's occupation was a chimney sweeper
He had a dreaming habit, he had it kind of bad,
Listen, let me tell you about the dream he had


Dreamed he bought a hound from a man that lived in Turkey
He told the gals who's dancing all to make it kind of jerky
Danced until she wore the carpets off the floor
And said, you haven't done nothing, just do it once more


At the North Pole, someone shouted "Willie!"
Turned around and saw a sight that knocked him silly
Right before him in the zero breeze
A nudie chimp(?) was dancing in his BVDs


He walked around, and his feet started freezing
Someone said, "Kid, you better listen to reason"
Says, "I want my coffee, want it good and strong
I want to have biscuits eighteen inches long"


Now tell me, what would you do
If you could have all of your dreams come true?
Why there's something tells me that you'd lock your door
Like Willie the Weeper, and cry for more


Now take my little ship, dream's about over
Called the best from up on the shore
Hump on a camel, hump on a flea
Put them two humps together, you got nothing on me


Now tell me, what would you do
If you could have all of your dreams come true
There's something tells me that you'd lock your door,
Like Willie the Weeper, and cry for -- please go away and let me sleep
Don't disturb my slumber deep
Something tells me that you'd lock your door
Like Willie the Weeper, and cry for more, more, more, more, more

Marijuana became popular as a recreational drug in the second decade of the 20th century. It was criminalized by Congress in 1937. Drugs are probably more associated with jazz than blues, and the Harlem Hamfats bridged those two musical worlds perfectly. The Hamfats were also frequent accompanists to Frankie Jaxon later in his career. Weed Smoker's Dream is another fantasy about being rich recorded in 1936.

Sitting on a million, sitting on it every day
Can’t make no money giving your stuff away
Why don’t you do now, like the millionaires do
Put your stuff on the market and make a million too


Fay's a betting woman, she bets on every hand
She’s a tricking mother for you every where she land
Why don’t you do now like the millionaires do
Put your stuff on the market and make a million too


May's a good looking frail, she lives down by the jail
On her back though she got hot stuff for sale
Why don’t you do now like the millionaires do
Put your stuff on the market and make a million too

In 1938, Jazz Gillum recorded a song complaining about his woman using too much. Reefer Head Woman:

I can't see why my baby sleeps so sound
Well, I can't see why my baby sleeps so sound
She must have smoked that reefer and it's bound to carry her down


When I left her this morning, I left her sleeping sound
When I left her this morning, I left her sleeping sound
The only way she could kiss me is to run like a full bloodhound


She said she was going to leave, going to some no good town
She said she was going to leave, going to some no good town
She was a rough-cutting woman, she didn't like to break them down


If you got a good woman, mens, please don't take her around
If you got a good woman, mens, please don't take her around
She will get full of reefers and raise sand all over this town

Reefer-Head Woman featured Big Bill Broonzy and Washboard Sam. Those guys played another drug-related song recorded for Bluebird this time under then name Wasboard Sam and His Washboard Band. The song's about giving up pimping for the better money available selling dope. Bucket's Got a Hole in It:

Oh my bucket's got a hole in it, Oh my bucket got a hole in it, Oh my bucket got a hole in it
Can't buy no beer
When you walking down Thirty-First Street, you had better look around
The vice squad is on the beat and you'll be jailhouse bound

I was standing on the corner, everything was going slow
Can't make no money, tricks ain't walking no more

Going to start a little racket, going to start it out right
Going to sell moonshine in the day and sell the dope at night
Then if I can't make no money, going to catch the Santa Fe
Going to drink good liquor and let all women be

Piano player Curtis Jones was a prolific recording artist in both the pre-war period and later. In 1938 he recorded Reefer Hound Blues:

I'm high up on my reefer, I'm nothing but a reefer hound
I'm high up on my reefer, I'm nothing but a reefer hound
My gage has just hit bottom(?), I believe I'll lay my body down


My whole body is king, I feel like I'm a millionaire
My whole body is king, I feel like I'm a millionaire
If I'm broke, I still got money, If I'm hungry, I don't even care


Lord, I really like my gage, that weed you call the reefer tea
I really like my gage, that weed you call the reefer tea
It's done sent my whole body and it sure feels good to me


This weed I've been smoking, it's done sent my very soul
This weed I've been smoking, it's done sent my very soul
And nobody could imagine, unless it's another cat who blows


I'm so high, I swear I'm as high as I could
I am so high, I'm as high as I can be
I'm so doggone high, the sun and sky even look low to me

In 1941, New pianist Champion Jack Dupree recorded the first version of a song that had been around New Orleans for a few years and would become something of a drug anthem and an incredibly influential song on countless New Orleans musicians. Junker Blues:

They call, they call me a junker
Cause I'm loaded all the time
I don't use no reefer, I'll be knocked out with that angel wine


Six months, Six months ain't no sentence
And one year ain't no time
They got boys in penitentiary doing from nine to ninety-nine


I was standing, I was standing on the corner
With my reefers in my hand
Upstairs the sergeant took my reefers out of my hand


My brother, my brother used a needle
and my sister sniffed cocaine
I don't use no junk, I'm the nicest boy you ever seen

My mother, my mother she told me
and my father told me too
That that junk is a bad habit, why don't you leave it too?


My sister she even told me
And my grandma told me too
That using junk partner was going to be the death of you

The 1941 storyteller is in denial while his family and the police sergeant try and get him off the junk. That's unlike some of the later versions of the song (many recorded as Junko Partner) where the drug use is openly embraced.

Whether legal or illegal, drugs were a part of the lives of blues musicians and they sang about it. Almost all of the songs recognize the difficulties of a lifestyle that includes drug use. Delusions, harm to your health, time in jail they all show up. And like most blues, it includes trouble caused by women.


Songs:
Dope Head Blues - Victoria Spivey
Willie the Weeper - Frankie "Half-Pint" Jaxon
Weed Smoker's Dream - Harlem Hamfats
Reefer Head Woman - Jazz Gillum
Bucket's Got a Hole in It - Washboard Sam and his Washboard Band
Reefer Hound Blues - Curtis Jones
Junker Blues - Champion Jack Dupree

Show 44 - Snow Blues

Songs:
Ice and Snow Blues - Peetie Wheatstraw
Easin' Back to Tennessee - Sleepy John Estes
South Bound Backwater - Lonnie Johnson
Cold Winter Blues - Kokomo Arnold
Cold Winter Day - Blind Willie McTell
Ice and Snow Blues - Clifford Gibson

Show 43 - Jim Crow Blues

The blues wouldn't exist without Jim Crow. It's the American system of racial inequality that made life hell for African-Americans in the South. The law institutionalized racism. The term comes from an old minstrel song by 19th century blackface performer Thomas Rice. Once the blues era began, the term satrts to show up in several songs that make overt protest against the racist system. An early one from singer Maggie Jones, Northbound Blues from 1925 talks about heading away from Jim Crow.

Got my trunk and grip all packed
Goodbye, I ain't coming back
Going to leave this Jim Crow town
Lord, sweet pape, New York bound

Got my ticket in my hand
And I'm leaving dixieland

Going north child, where I can be free
Going north child, where I can be free
Where there's no hardships, like in Tennessee

Going where they don't have Jim Crow laws
Going where they don't have Jim Crow laws
Don't have to work there, like in Arkansas

When I cross the Mason‑Dixon Line
When I cross the Mason‑Dixon Line
Goodbye old gal, yon mama's gonna fly

Going to daddy, got no time to lose
Going to daddy, got no time to lose
I'll be alone, can't hear my northbound blues

Cow Cow Davenport was another singer to make an overt statement about going North to escape Jim Crow. Accompanied by B.T. Wingfield on cornet, he recorded Jim Crow Blues for Paramount in 1927:

I'm tired of being Jim Crowed, gonna Leave this Jim Crow town
Doggone my black soul, I'm sweet Chicago bound

Yes I'm leaving here from this old Jim Crow town
I'm going up North where they say money grows on trees
I don't give a doggone if my black soul is free
I'm going where I don't need no baby

I got a hat, got a overcoat, don't need nothing but you
These old easy walkers going to give my ankles the blues
But when my girl hears about this, oh, that will be sad news.

I'm going up North, baby I can't carry you
Ain't nothing in that cold up there a ?? can do
I'm gonna get me a Northern girl, see that I am through with you Lord

But if I get up there, weather don't suit, I don't find no job
Go and tell that boss man of mine, Lord I'm ready to come back to my Jim Crow town

By the end of the 1930s, musicians like Leadbelly and Josh White began becoming more overt with their political statements,

Leadbelly - Jim Crow:

Bunk Johnson told me too, This old Jim Crowism dead bad luck for me and you
I been traveling, i been traveling from shore to shore
Everywhere I have been I find some old Jim Crow

One thing, people, I want everybody to know
You're gonna find some Jim Crow, every place you go

Down in Louisiana, Tennessee, Georgia's a mighty good place to go
And get together, break up this old Jim Crow

I told everybody over the radio
Make up their mind and get together, break up this old Jim Crow

I want to tell you people something that you don't know
It's a lotta Jim Crow in a moving picture show

I'm gonna sing this verse, I ain't gonna sing no more
Please get together, break up this old Jim Crow

In the early 1930s, no case brought more attention to the Jim Crow system than the
trials of the Scottsboro Boys. 9 black teenagers were accused of raping two white women aboard a train. The series of trials in Alabama brought up issues of false accusation, the legal ability of black men to serve on Alabama juries, and how the entire Southern legal system treated black defendants. In 1938, Leadbelly recorded Scottsboro Boys it where he discusses Jim Crow in Alabama.

Now this is a song, "Scottsboro Boys." When I about Scottsboro Boys
cause I've been all over Alabama, Birmingham,
Montgomery. And in Alabama must be Jim Crow or something like that because
they turn loose some men and try to keep the others. I don't see why they
don't turn all of them loose. And this is the song, "Scottsboro Boys"
Go to Alabama and you better watch out
The landlord will get you, gonna jump and shout Scottsboro, Scottsboro, Scottsboro Boys
They can tell you what it's all about

I'm gonna talk to Joe Louis, ask him to listen to me
Dont he never try to make no bout in Alabamy
I'm gonna tell all the colored people, living on Sugar Hill
Don't you never go to Alabama to try to live

I'm gonna tell all the colored people, living in Harlem Swing
Don't you never go to Alabama to try to sing

Tell about the Scottsboro boys, where were they going to?
Tell about the Scottsboro boys, what happened to them?
This song is about the Scottsboro Boys. The boys left on a trip, you know, they was riding a freight train. And they met two white women in there, you know, the white women
was boosting too, what we call it. And they was beating there way along and they
met up with these boys. There was about nine boys and they rode along with them
and they went out. One of the women said it wasn't so and one of the said it
was. Now they goign to hold all of them for just one sentence, which I don't
think none of it was true. But they turned loose four and now they got a few
more. I think they ought to turn them all loose. That's what they call happened.
So they put the boys in jail. Give some of 'em life and some got loose, but I
don't think it's true. But, anyhow, the last word is this:

I'm gonna tell all the colored people, living in Harlem Swing
Don't you never go to Alabama to try to sing

Now, I'll tell you about it in Alabama, must be Jim Crow. If
a white woman says something, it must be so. And she can say something about a
colored person, if it's a thousand colored men, they kill all of 'em for just
that one woman. If she ain't telling the truth it don't make any difference.
Why? Cause it's Jim Crow and I know it's so, 'cause the Scottsboro Boys can tell
you about it.

Like Leadbelly, Josh White began to address political issues in a straightforward manner in his songs. In 1941, he recorded Jim Crow Train, a classic protest song against the Southern system. It also features one of the great recorded train imitations:

Can't you hear that train whistle blow?
Can't you hear that train whistle blow?
Can't you hear that train whistle blow?
Lord, I wish that train wasn't Jim Crow

Stop the train so I can ride this train

Damn that Jim Crow

By 1941, many believed the US would soon be entering World War II. Josh White took the chance to protest the transfer of Jim Crow into the military. Uncle Sam Says:

Airplanes flying across the land and sea,Everybody flying but a Negro like me.
Uncle Sam says, "Your place is on the ground, When I fly my
airplanes, don’t want no Negro around"
The same thing for the Navy, when ships go to sea
All they got is a mess boy’s job for me
Uncle Sam says,
"Keep on your apron, son,You know I ain’t gonna let you shoot my big Navy gun"

Got my long government letter, my time to go
When I got to the Army found the same old Jim Crow
Uncle Sam says, "Two camps for black and
whiteBut when trouble starts, we’ll all be in that same big fight"If you ask me,
I think democracy is fineI mean democracy without the color line
Uncle Sam says, "We’ll live the American way"
Let’s get together and kill Jim Crow today

Protest language in the blues is often coded and subtle. But in these songs, you hear the singers actually use the phrase "Jim Crow" make direct reference to the problems of systematic racial oppression. It's this system that created the conditions that created the blues and I'm always fascinating to hear singers comment on it overtly or covertly. Thanks to Eric Blinkhorn for his help.
Songs:
North Bound Blues - Maggie Jones
Jim Crow Blues - Cow Cow Davenport
Jim Crow Blues - Leadbelly
Scottsboro Boys - Leadbelly
Jim Crow Train - Josh White
Uncle Sam Says - Josh White