DEDICATED TO THE PRESERVATION OF TRUE AMERICAN FOLK MUSIC

*THANK YOU: God, DeAnna, Dad, W.P., & Seven Cylinder Sam*

*An artistic thank you to: PATTON, FAHEY, WAITS, Furry Lewis, Sylvester Weaver, & Jim Croce*

*For all tracks except for 8,13, & 15, the guitar used was a (likely)late 20's First Hawaiian Conservatory*

*For tracks 8 & 13, a Luna Moonbird 6-string banjo was used*

*For track 15, a Recording King Parlor Resonator was used*

*Produced by R. Ray Lankford*

*Cover design by R. Ray Lankford*

*Liner notes arranged by W.P. Buick*

*THE MONTE ROOT RECORDS CATALOGUE *

-Ray Lankford * Of Many Rivers * MRR001 * Feb. 29, 2024 

-Ray Lankford * Pine & Trauma  * MRR002 * June 30, 2024 

-Ray Lankford * R.L.'s Blues * MRR003 * May 1, 2025

-Ray Lankford * Seven Cylinder Sam * MRR004 * Aug. 29, 2026

"If you're gonna do something, do it with style, skill, and such a lack of grace that it is impossible to truly imitate."

-Seven Cylinder Sam

THEE Seven Cylinder Sam 

By Ray Lankford

W.P. & I met Seven Cylinder Sam while cruising local alleyways & soaking in the whistling sound of steaming pipes. We followed the distant echo of Spanish tuning until we stumbled upon an old man playing & singing for a group of about 7 rats & a few hundred cockroaches. A slim silhouette, the flicker of a cigarette, & a pair of glasses like a solar eclipse. He was playing a rendition of "Kassie Jones" reminiscent of Furry Lewis's, we were enamored. Upon ending the song, he spoke to us & introduced himself very proudly. "How's it goin' fellas? The name's Seven Cylinder Sam. That's right, THEE Seven Cylinder Sam! THEE coworker of THEE long lost relative of THEE Six Cylinder Smith. THEE best bluesman that ever rolled down the crick(sic)." After getting our names, he blasted into "Oh Oh Lonesome Blues" proving he was really as good as he claimed. We listened for a while & when he was all done, we took him for a drink. W.P. attempted to get the facts of his life while I interrogated him on his repertoire of tunes. It was... impressive... to say the least. Which is to say that I didn't believe him, not fully. He claimed to know "easily a hun' rd and twenty songs (sic)" well enough to play. They were all over the place too. I mean from all sides of the blues to hillbilly tunes to old pop numbers to honky tonks & whatever ails you. By the end of the night, we knew two things: he drank FAR too much & if he could play like he lied, we had found a treasure out of time.

Now, I was also drinking heavily at the time, so Sam & I got close very quickly. Many nights were a beat down. He out-drank me, out-lied me, & he FAR out played me. Yes, he certainly exaggerated the number of songs he he knew, but DAMN he sure could play what he knew (probably around 50 songs would be my estimate) to perfection, often in unusual ways. Some songs would devolve into slow sessions of single strums & the hollering of lyrics as if they were hymns. Usually they weren't. I'm not sure if Sam ever outright told W.P. & I the truth, but if ever he did, it was a September night of 24. He & I were drinking & playing as usual, when I asked him "Why the blues? Why are we drawn to this thing?" He nearly cut me off with his reply. "Well, men like us, ones who is raised up right and always heard 'work hard' 'work hard,' end up seein' that the world is made for all the folks that never learned a thing and don't work hard, and we search for somethin' that lets that frustration up and out. We find the blues, we learn it as a way to get rid of all that stuff from the times we had before, but then you run out of old gripes and that thunderin' cloud of blues lingers in your every present moment. It eats you on the inside and lets you make somethin' from it. The freedom and the jailhouse all in one. All we can do in this world is observe and release and try to make somethin' from it. The blues is a decision to really feel the pain, to choose to suffer a burden of knowledge, and to thrive because of and despite it." I don't think Sam thought for a second about a thing he said, it just flowed.

We planned to record Sam in May of 25, but Sam's health began to decline rapidly in the month before. The drinking had caught up. Sam didn't care, he continued "doin' what I like while I can." He was frail & drunk one night when he suffered a terrible fall inside his shack. He wasn't in the hospital long before he passed. W.P. & I were with him.

In the week leading up to the fall, he had made strange predictions & he would often ask if I would tell people about him. I assured him that I, of course, would. He asked me one day if I would carry on his name. I told him I would in any way I could. This album is a thank you to Sam & to the blues we bonded over. Long live THEE coworker of THEE long lost relative of THEE Six Cylinder Smith, THEE Seven Cylinder Sam.

Words From W.P. 

By W.P. Buick

It had been four months since Sam's passing, Ray and I hadn't spoken since, and I couldn't locate him through any of his usual channels. I had decided, finally, to let him be, when I received a short letter. It read: "Things are floating W.P. & I don't know where up is anymore. I feel like a little cat walking the same path twice, but this second time around, I can't find no mice. Meet me @ Fire Station 1, next Sunday @ 11:47am or pm. I'll be there." As per usual, there was "required" listening material attached (a CD copy of Rev. Edward W. Clayborn on Document this time around) and a single cigarette. The time came, I decided on PM, and went to meet the kid. He was getting over a spell of terrible pneumonia and looked emaciated. He had spent time in Oregon visiting Fahey once again, bringing back a tale of some sort of mighty motor oil monster that bellowed smoke from its nostrils and he sported a much improved set of blues skills that he had acquired from Sam. I got the sense that he was thoroughly unsettled, but growing on some invisible plane. The rambling spells he was prone to in the past seemed to have stopped with the end of his drinking, a development I was thrilled by. I inquired about his noticeable weight drop and recent sobriety, his answer gave me some hope when lately I had felt only fear for him. "Man, right as I was getting sober and healthy of mind, I got pneumonia. Godforsaken pneumonia, fluid in the lungs and all. Couldn't eat, couldn't get up, couldn't sleep. When I did sleep, nightmares filled my mind. I was scared. This went on for weeks. Coming out of the other side of it has been an awakening. I feel blessed to be back to 100% with no lasting effects. This boy can still holler. Y'know, for awhile after I stopped drinking I was so angry, so discontented, so absorbed in my own problems that I lost my fight, my heart, and my hope. I had made my issues into my own dark world, headed for nothing but strife. I am born anew. I promised Sam that I'd carry on his name, and now I can be proud to do so in a positive way."

NOTES ON THE SONGS:

By Ray Lankford

1. Railroad Bill : Many a song has been titled such over the years. My arrangement is built from the bones of the versions by Will Bennett & Frank Hutchison. This was the first song that Sam taught me, & I impressed him by learning it in a night. There are many recordings & styles of this song; it's a good study on how a song can be done many different ways but be palpably the same song; "Kassie Jones/Casey Jones" is similar. Lyrically it is a jumble of rewritten chunks from various different versions & one of my own..

2. Idaho Blues : One night while lounging around Sam's shack, he played me his version of "Rock Island Blues" by Furry Lewis. I was already extremely familiar with Furry's recording, so I begged Sam to teach me how to play it. This is when I learned that if I pushed Sam too hard to show or tell me something, he wouldn't. It took months of asking, & only when I lightened the pressure & learned what he wanted to teach me, did he finally toss me the general idea on how to play the piece. Looking back, this was a gift. It allowed me to conjure the basic feel of the tune while having to fill in gaps with my own elaboration, which is truly the heart of this vein of music. I've pulled some inspiration from Lonnie Coleman's "Old Rock Island Blues" here & there, I love his phrasing. Lyrically it is mostly my own, with some verses being my own takes on some old standards.

3. Modern Blues : This is one of those songs that was written in about 20 minutes & needed nothing more. For the instrumentation, I took the "ragtime" section of my tune "M.L.'s Blues," rearranged it a bit, & moved the capo from the second to the third fret. Lyrically its basically a bunch of complaining & a little bit of bragging.

4. Nightmare Blues : Another original written in about 30 minutes, this time while I was at work. It sorta connects this album back to "R.L.'S Blues," as that's one of the big periods in which I was experiencing a slew of dreadful visions. It's an attempt at the style of Sylvester Weaver's slow songs in C, none specifically. ("Chittlin Rag Blues" is probably the closest?) Instrumentally it is extremely bare bones, the focus being the vocal & lyrics, which are from the heart & the deep corners of the mind. This was the first song of my own that I played for Sam & he had nothing negative to say.

5. Speedy Woman : This was actually the first "blues" song I ever wrote way back in May of 24, long before I met Sam. It started as an attempt at Bo Carter's style all around, but has become a mix of Bo's style of "fills" & lyrics, with Furry Lewis's "Big Chief Blues" backing up the lyrics. It is a blast to play.

6. Oh Oh Lonesome Blues : Well, there she is, the song that reveals some back story. When we first met Sam, this was the second song he played us. Neither of us was familiar with it at the time, we just thought he was proving that he had serious playing chops, not proving his introductory line was true. Another night, he played it for me again, providing the title but no other information, so on I went thinking that it was his own. A month or so later, I was listening through the catalogues of Blind Joe Taggart & Reverend Edward W. Clayborn(which each have their own "Volume 1" on Document, then meet together on one CD to cover all remaining tracks,) when early on the disc "Oh Oh Lonesome Blues" by someone named Six Cylinder Smith." "OH! THAT'S A REAL PERSON?!" I said to myself.  The next time I saw Sam, I immediately pressed him with this new information in hand. "Some people seem to believe that Blind Joe Taggart was Six Cylinder Smith, what do you think?" I asked. He snapped at me, "Ohhhh they think, do they? Well, I KNOW that he was.” His tone & certainty sent a thick silence across the room. I then made the poor decision of waiting a few seconds & then asking "well... can you teach me to play it?" I was swiftly asked to leave for the night & I didn't hear from Sam for over a week after. I never went in to this topic with him again & he never taught me the song, so his personal introduction "THEE coworker of THEE long lost relative of THEE Six Cylinder Smith" coupled with the original recording of this song, are the only bits of information we have to build some sort of story of Sam's life from. My plan was to record Sam's rendition of this song, then teach myself from his recording, but then Sam passed & the last person who knew this song was gone. I've searched high & low for guidance on this song, but have failed to even find lyrics. So presented here is my cobbled together, roughly played, & probably incorrectly transcribed version. For Sam.

7. Crochet Mama : Sam didn't know a whole lot of Blind Lemon Jefferson stuff, but he taught me the little that he did, sighting it as particularly important. For this track, I've taken the "I got a girl cross town, she crochet all the time" verse from Lemon's "Matchbox Blues (80524)" & written more verses that match that theme while using what Sam taught me of Lemon's "That Crawlin' Baby Blues" for the backing. It makes me anxious to learn more of Lemon's work, he is superb. Lyrically its all about my crochet-crazy wife. We really do have boxes of yarn, hooks, & unfinished projects stacked to the ceiling.

8. Last Chance Blues : Sam & I bonded early on over our shared love of Gus Cannon & Cannon's Jug Stompers. I took every opportunity he provided to learn their stuff. I just adore this song. From its lyrics, to the freedom it allows vocally, this is just one of the sublime songs of Gus Cannon's incredible body of work. There are two versions of this song by Mr. Cannon, one by Cannon & Woods" The Beale Street Boys" & one by Cannon's Jug Stompers. Personally, I prefer the Cannon & Woods recording without the harmonica. After listening back to these songs that Sam taught me, I realize that none of them are really correct, but they get the job done. To me, that's a beautiful thing.

9. Leander & Crocket (Leander Lankford's Lamb's Bottom Blues) : According to my family records, some time between 1811 & 1850 on a cold winter day, my 4 times great-uncle, Leander Lankford, was crossing the White River in Indiana, near paragon, along with "a man named Crocket" & Crocket's young son. They were above the dam of Joshua Evilsizer's mill, when "by some mismanagement, they let the canoe drift over it and were caught in the surging waves below." This happened in the presence of "half a dozen or more men," who were unable to save Leander & Crocket, but Crocket's son clung to the canoe and was rescued. Leander was apparently "one of the best esteemed citizens of Lamb's Bottom," & "his sudden taking off cast a gloom over the entire neighborhood." The first time I read this story a couple of years ago, the potential alliteration of "Leander Lankford's Lamb's Bottom Blues" stuck out to me, so I wrote it down. Flash forward to a couple of months ago, I reread the story & immediately I have the idea for what the song could finally materialize into. I had been working on the chord progression as just sort of an exercise for a week or so prior, so it was fresh in mind. It took me a day to write & a week to polish. I love this song.

10. To Look For A Rose : I wrote the chorus of this song way back in September of 23. I didn't do anything with it for the longest time, but I would think of it every now & again. Last year I finally had a mind to finish it, so I put together the main instrumental & wrote lyrics, but was ultimately unsatisfied with what came out, so it was shelved once again. Then I ended up writing a song called "September Blues" that I really liked the lyrics of, but couldn't find what fit instrumentally. Long story long.. I gutted my two favorite verses out of "September Blues," completely changed the melody of the verses, & came up with this final product. The reactions to this song by people close to me have been immensely encouraging, as it is a total outlier compared to what I normally write & especially compared to what is presented on the rest of this album. The words of encouragement & criticism were deeply heard & appreciated. Thank you.

11. I Shall Not Be Moved : The last song that Sam ever taught me was, fittingly, "I Shall Not Be Moved" in a style reminiscent of Charlie Patton. I make zero claims on my ability to play anywhere near as well as Patton or Sam, but I felt it was an important song to attempt. I've taken standard lyrics from a few old versions. I feel it necessary to mention Reverend Edward W. Clayborn's version as well. He is my favorite" guitar evangelist," & I've sorta attempted to make Patton's slow start into a bit more of Clayborn's style before launching into Patton's. Recorded in a sweltering room. 

12. Guitar Rag (Outro) : The only recording of Seven Cylinder Sam.

BONUS TRACKS:

13. My Money Never Runs Out : Another Gus Cannon number that Sam taught me. Its so much fun to play. Like "Last Chance Blues," there are two recordings from Mr. Cannon: one by Banjo Joe with Blind Blake & one by Cannon's Jug Stompers. I, once again, prefer the earlier version with less instruments; the Banjo Joe recording. It is played here drunk. 

14. Kassie Jones : A true amalgamation lyrically. Verses from Furry Lewis (from whose version the spelling of the title is taken) & Riley Puckett, with consideration taken of the versions of Vernon Dalhart, George Reneau, Wilmer Watts & the Lonely Eagles, Sloppy Henry ("Hobo Blues") & John Hurt. This was a song I learned very early on with this album in mind. Furry's style helped me fall easily into actually getting the sound of the blues; I can figure out any song with an alternating thumb. 

15. Lamb's Bottom Rag : This is an early recording of the exercise that became "Leander & Crocket" played slick with only the tune in mind. My only thought when I came up with it was making something jumpy with a section that totally changes the tempo and then picks it back up smoothly. 

16. Leander & Crocket (Reprise) : Just a chunk that came about while messing around. This album almost had a LOT more kazoo... maybe I'll explore that more someday on record.

Quotes Gathered by W.P. Buick

"If you're gonna do something, do it with style, skill, and such a lack of grace that it is impossible to truly imitate."

-Seven Cylinder Sam

"What do you think,. W.P.? Is the blues dead? If it is, the fault lies within the overuse of electric and the seeming need of most to use a band for everything. I don't think that its dead. I think the problem is that we as people have become terrible at expressing our emotions- a.) to a true, guttural extent b.)without needing people to acknowledge, digest, and empathise FULLY and providing too much detail. Too often nowadays when emotion is expressed in music, artists do it with the expectation that it will be seen so they formulate, adjust, and enunciate their words, thoughts, and music to make sure they feel 100% understood to all. It is a waste of time. People have lost much ability to convey things through simple sounds, old expressions that have nothing to do with anything, through that thing deep inside of us that can understand each other without blatantly laying it all out there. If the blues is still alive, it resides within miserable groans of agony, the yacks of vomiting, and in the joyous yips of chaotic laughter."

-Ray

"Last night I had a dream that I was in the passenger seat of a car that I didn't recognize, with a driver that I couldn't make out, and we ran out of gas. I was palpably unsurprised."

-Ray

"I know you got the same number, I know you got the same line. I ain't gonna try it, baby, but you should try mine.

Oh, I'm tellin' ya to try my number, tellin' ya to try my line. 'Cause if ya catch me on the right day baby, I may just change my mind." 

-Seven Cylinder Sam