.jpg?format=1500w)
He wasn't the first person to play the blues. He’d be the first to tell you that. But without the specific songs by WC Handy, the blues might have remained a flickering, localized folk tradition rather than becoming the bedrock of global pop culture.
William Christopher Handy was sitting on a slumped-over bench at a train station in Tutwiler, Mississippi, around 1903 when he heard it. A man sliding a knife blade across guitar strings, singing about "goin' where the Southern cross the Dog." It sounded "weird," Handy said. It was haunting. More importantly, to Handy’s trained musical ear, it was a business opportunity. He didn't just listen; he took notes. He translated a raw, rural ache into a structured, sheet-music reality that the rest of the world could actually buy and play on their parlor pianos.
The Memphis Blues and the Birth of a Genre
Before 1912, "the blues" wasn't really a term people used to describe a specific song structure. Then came The Memphis Blues. Originally written as a campaign song for a local politician named Edward "Boss" Crump, it didn't even have lyrics at first. It was just a weird, syncopated instrumental that defied the rigid marches of the era.
When Handy finally added words and published it, he effectively codified the 12-bar blues. Think about that for a second. Every rock song, every jazz standard, and basically every R&B hit of the last century owes its DNA to this one guy deciding to write down what he heard in the Mississippi Delta. He took the "blue notes"—those flatted thirds and sevenths that sound so soulful and "off" to a classical ear—and made them intentional.
People sometimes argue that Handy "sanitized" the blues. Maybe. But honestly, if he hadn't, would we have Gershwin? Would we have B.B. King? Probably not in the way we know them today. He was a bridge. He was a classically trained musician who realized that the "low" music of the streets had more heart than the "high" music of the concert halls.
St. Louis Blues: The Song That Changed Everything
If you’re talking about songs by WC Handy, you have to talk about St. Louis Blues. It’s not just a song; it’s a monument. Published in 1914, it became one of the most recorded songs in history. From Louis Armstrong to Bessie Smith to Glenn Miller, everyone has a version.
Why did it work? Because it was complex.
📖 Related: Why Grand Funk’s Bad Time is Secretly the Best Pop Song of the 1970s
Handy did something brilliant here. He mixed a standard blues structure with a tango rhythm in the middle section. "The Spanish Tinge," Jelly Roll Morton called it. That sudden shift in rhythm—from a mourning wail to a hip-swaying dance—captured the chaotic energy of the early 20th century. It felt modern. It felt dangerous.
It’s got that famous opening: "I hate to see that evening sun go down." It’s a line about depression, sure, but in Handy’s hands, it became an anthem. He published it himself because nobody else wanted it. They told him it was too weird. He proved them wrong by making enough money off that one song to move his entire publishing operation to New York City and become a wealthy man. That was almost unheard of for a Black composer in the Jim Crow era.
The Beale Street Connection
Beale Street in Memphis was Handy’s laboratory. It was a place where "the silver dollars would rain down," and the music never stopped. Beale Street Blues, published in 1916, is basically a love letter to that chaos. It captures the smell of the fried fish, the sound of the dice hitting the sidewalk, and the inherent grit of a place that felt alive.
Handy’s songs often acted as a travelogue of the Black American experience. He wasn’t writing abstract poetry. He was writing about specific places, specific people, and specific struggles. In Yellow Dog Blues, he references the Yazoo and Mississippi Valley Railroad. These details mattered. They gave the music a sense of place that resonated with people who felt invisible in the broader American narrative.
More Than Just the Blues: The Compositional Range
We call him the "Father of the Blues," a title he actually gave himself in his autobiography, but his catalog is surprisingly diverse. He wrote marches. He wrote spirituals. He wrote rags.
- Ole Miss Rag – A high-speed, technical piece that showed off his ability to compete with the ragtime kings of the era.
- Aunt Hagar's Blues – A song that feels more like a traditional folk melody expanded into a grand orchestral statement.
- Hesitating Blues – A slower, more contemplative piece that explores the frustration of waiting for a lover.
Each of these tracks serves a different purpose. Handy was obsessed with the idea that Black music was "the only music that is American." He wasn't interested in just being a pop star; he wanted to prove that this music was a legitimate art form, as complex and worthy of study as anything coming out of Europe.
👉 See also: Why La Mera Mera Radio is Actually Dominating Local Airwaves Right Now
The Controversy of Ownership and Folk Tradition
It's worth acknowledging the friction here. Folklorists like Alan Lomax and even some of Handy's contemporaries, like Jelly Roll Morton, were sometimes prickly about Handy taking the credit. Morton famously wrote a letter to DownBeat magazine claiming he personally "invented" jazz and that Handy was just a guy who wrote down what other people played.
There's some truth to the idea that Handy was a collector as much as a composer. He was a human tape recorder before tape recorders existed. But here’s the thing: music dies if it isn’t shared. Handy didn't just "steal" tunes; he orchestrated them. He added harmony. He created the framework that allowed these songs to be played by big bands and symphony orchestras.
He was a businessman, too. He understood copyright. In a time when Black artists were routinely ripped off, Handy owned his own publishing house. He fought for his royalties. He was one of the first Black members of ASCAP. That’s a huge part of his legacy—showing that a Black musician could own the means of production.
Why We Still Listen to Songs by WC Handy
You might think 100-year-old songs would sound dusty. They don't. When you hear a modern jazz band tear through St. Louis Blues, it still has teeth. The tension between the melody and the rhythm is timeless.
His influence is everywhere.
- George Gershwin: Heavily influenced by Handy's use of blue notes in Rhapsody in Blue.
- The Rolling Stones: Their raw, guitar-heavy sound is a direct descendant of the Delta style Handy popularized.
- Hip-Hop: The idea of "sampling" street life and turning it into a commercial product is essentially what Handy was doing with his pen and paper in 1909.
Handy lost his sight later in life, but he never stopped working. He became a symbol of Black excellence in New York, often seen in Harlem or at his office on Broadway, still advocating for the music. When he died in 1958, over 25,000 people lined the streets of Manhattan for his funeral. That’s the kind of impact we’re talking about.
✨ Don't miss: Why Love Island Season 7 Episode 23 Still Feels Like a Fever Dream
How to Explore the Handy Catalog Today
If you want to actually understand why this matters, don't just read about it. Listen. But don't just listen to one version. The beauty of Handy's work is its elasticity.
Start with Bessie Smith’s 1925 recording of St. Louis Blues. It features a young Louis Armstrong on cornet. It is, quite simply, one of the most perfect recordings ever made. Then, jump forward and listen to The Thad Jones/Mel Lewis Orchestra's version of the same song from the 1960s. It’s a total reimagining—wild, aggressive, and modern.
Next, find a recording of Careless Love. While Handy didn't "invent" the song (it was an old folk tune), his 1921 arrangement is what made it a staple. It’s been covered by everyone from Elvis Presley to Ray Charles. It shows the sheer reach of his influence.
Finally, look up the lyrics. Handy was a storyteller. He captured the vernacular of his time without mocking it. He treated the language of the working class with dignity. That, more than anything else, is why his songs endure. He gave a voice to the voiceless and turned the "blues" into a badge of honor.
Practical Steps for Music Lovers:
- Visit the WC Handy Museum: If you're ever in Florence, Alabama, his birthplace, or Memphis, Tennessee, go to the museums dedicated to him. Seeing his original instruments and handwritten scores puts the history into perspective.
- Search for "The Father of the Blues" on Streaming: Look for the 1958 tribute album by Louis Armstrong (Louis Armstrong Plays W.C. Handy). It is widely considered the definitive interpretation of his work.
- Analyze the Structure: If you play an instrument, try to learn the bridge of St. Louis Blues. Notice how the rhythm shifts. It’s a masterclass in songwriting that predates modern "genre-bending" by a century.