So Supernatural - THE UNKNOWN: Robert Johnson and the Devil

Episode Date: September 29, 2021

In the 1930s, Robert Johnson broke barriers in the American South to become the king of Delta blues. His music is legendary. But his journey from flop to fame? Downright otherworldly. At least, if you believe the stories that he made a deal with the devil…  

Everybody has some goal that they're passionate about, something you feel like you'd do anything for. For me, it's podcasting. And listen, it's great to pursue those dreams right up until the point where you're asked to cross a line. Would you really do anything? Would you cheat, lie, throw others under the bus? Would you even sell your soul to get what you want? I'm not speaking metaphorically. According to legend, there is a blues musician

that literally traded his soul to the devil in exchange for his talent. That might all sound like a folktale, but in his studio recordings, you can allegedly hear Satan playing the guitar right along with him. This is the story. I'm your host, Ashley Flowers. This week, I'm introducing you to a legendary blues musician named Robert Johnson. His career was short, yet so influential that it changed the course of music history. But his musical gifts came at a cost. I'll have all that and more coming up. Stay with us. Robert Johnson only recorded 29 songs throughout his entire career,

and all of them were released between 1937 and 1939. But that handful of tracks were so remarkable that today he's considered by many to be the father of the blues. Robert's music inspired some of the world's greatest rock and roll musicians. We're talking Bob Dylan, Eric Clapton, even Led Zeppelin. And it's not hard to see why. Robert is an extremely talented guitarist, so talented some would even say they're supernatural. What makes this even more interesting is that right up until one specific night in the early 1930s, Robert was apparently

a terrible guitar player. It's not for lack of trying. From an early age, Robert puts everything he has into his music. He's practicing constantly, taking lessons from other players, trying to book shows. And there's a lot on the line. Robert grew up super poor in Mississippi, and by the time he's 18, he's married with a kid on the way. Breaking in as a blues player is the only hope he has for supporting his family. So as soon as his wife gets pregnant, Robert leaves town to go on tour. But when he comes home in the spring of 1930, he arrives to

terrible news. His wife and the baby both died during childbirth. To make matters worse, Robert's in-laws blame him for being absent during the tragedy. They tell him the blues are evil and music led him astray from his duties as a father, and now they want nothing to do with him. So Robert has lost his spouse, his child, and his extended family all before his 20th birthday. And on top of that, his career is going nowhere. He spends the next few years traveling through the South from town to town, playing the blues in bars and on street corners. But as the story goes, no matter how much he practices, he just can't get any better. Every gig totally flops. Sometimes audiences boo him off the stage or even

literally run him out of the juke joint. But he refuses to give up. At this point, music is all he has. One October night in the early 1930s, he goes to see a gig by two of his biggest influences, Willie Brown and Son House. When they take a break between sets, Robert is so awestruck that he climbs on stage and picks up one of their guitars. He just wants to get a sense of what a real prose instrument feels like. But this curiosity gets the best of him, and Robert starts strumming on the guitar. And according to Son, that's when the fantasy breaks. Even with this top-notch instrument, the sound Robert is making is horrendous. It's so bad the bar owners and customers actually drag Willie and Son back from their break early just so they can force Robert off the stage, which besides being humiliating, doesn't speak well of Robert's chances at becoming a professional. It seems like his

dreams will never come true, not without some kind of supernatural intervention. Robert grew up in Mississippi where he might have heard about voodoo legends. And one of them says you can summon spirits at the crossroads at midnight. It's hard to say if he actually believes in voodoo, but he's apparently willing to give it a try. Because according to some accounts, this is what happens after he leaves the bar that night. It's almost midnight and Robert is trudging back to his hotel in a state of despair. As he approaches the intersection of Highway 61 and Highway 49, he collapses to his knees. He folds his hands and prays to whoever is listening

that they'll take pity on him. All he wants in this life is to be a great musician. Once Robert finishes his prayer, he gets back on his feet. And at that point, he notices this unsettling charge in the air. Something just feels off. To calm his nerves, Robert pulls out his guitar and plays a few riffs. Then he hears a bell ringing in the distance, signaling it's midnight. And, like magic, a figure appears just up the road. As the person draws closer, Robert doesn't see anything unnerving about him. The stranger is an elderly black man walking with a cane.

His red and black clothes are a bit worn out, and he's wearing a tattered straw hat. The stranger sees Robert and shouts a greeting. Now, if I were Robert, I'd be a little freaked out at this point, but apparently his southern courtesy kicks in, and he introduces himself. He notices the man is eyeballing his guitar, so Robert explains that he's a blues musician. And to his surprise, the man admits he plays too. He asks to see the guitar and Robert hands it over. The stranger says it's out of tune, so he makes some adjustments. And before he gives it back, he makes this bizarre comment. He basically says to Robert, hey, I did you a favor tuning this guitar for you. Now you have to give me something in

return, like your soul. I can only imagine what Robert's thinking. Maybe he takes this as a joke and plays along, or perhaps he can sense that his prayer was actually answered. Either way, he agrees. Once he gets his guitar back, Robert feels this chill run up his spine, like something important just passed between him and this man. But Robert doesn't say anything. Neither does the stranger. The man just turns and walks away without another word. This whole encounter is so eerie, Robert can't get it out of his head for the rest of the night. He has to be wondering who this old man was. According to some

accounts, it was the devil himself. Others believe it was this figure from voodoo legends called Papa Legba. Papa Legba is sort of a gatekeeper who can move between our reality and the spirit realm. Supposedly, if you ever try to contact a spirit, even to pray for healing or forgiveness or something like that, you have to go through Papa Legba as an intermediary. Now, allegedly, you can ask Papa Legba for just about anything, but every request has a cost. He usually demands an offering of rum or candy, but in the end, that might not be the only price you pay. See, Papa Legba is a trickster. He loves to sow chaos, which means he could betray you.

Or even worse, he'll give you exactly what you asked for, with all the unintended consequences attached. Whoever that old man was, when Robert picks up his guitar next, something very unexpected happens. He lays his hands across the strings and his fingers just naturally land on the right chords. This beautiful music comes pouring out without Robert even trying. And I'm not talking about a few simple scales. Robert's playing a complex, challenging melody perfectly. It's like overnight his musical skills have leveled up from zero to infinity. That just doesn't happen, not without something supernatural at play.

But when you make a deal with the devil, be sure to read the fine print. Coming up, Robert's success comes along with a deadly curse. Now back to the story. After Robert makes his deal with the devil, nobody hears a peep from him for ages. The records from this time period are vague, but Robert vanishes for about six months to a year and a half. But the moment he reemerges, he can play guitar like never before. Robert finds Willie Brown and Son House playing at another bar. He cuts through the crowd and approaches the stage with his guitar in hand.

Willie and Son both tease him. They remember how badly he flopped last time, and they don't expect this performance to go much better. But Robert plays a virtuoso set. The audience is stunned. They've never heard of anyone improving so much in such a short amount of time. I should mention that some researchers have a more conventional theory for how Robert got so good. During that year or so when he was off the grid, he might have been studying with a blues player named Ike Zimmerman. But here's the thing. Ike is a pretty mysterious figure himself. Practically nothing is known about him. And when biographers reach out to Robert's close friends to ask about

Ike, they all act like they've never even heard of him before. If this guy did teach Robert everything he knows, then you'd think he'd be a pretty major figure in Robert's life, right? But there's really not much in the way of hard evidence that they even knew each other, which is kind of odd. Although Ike and Robert might have something in common. Apparently, Ike is into hoodoo, which for the record is not the same as voodoo, but they do have similar roots in African culture and mysticism. Ike follows a hoodoo tradition that says you can only learn to play the blues if you practice at midnight in a cemetery.

Now, I'm not sure if this is supposed to have religious significance or if it's just one of Ike's quirks, but Ike supposedly teaches Robert his craft in a graveyard, which means even if Robert didn't literally give his soul to the devil, there does seem to be a connection between his talent and the occult. And honestly, if Ike was Robert's music teacher, he must have been a miracle worker because Robert's sudden improvement is said to be so dramatic, it barely seems possible.

Like in November 1936, Robert records his first album. Even longtime pros can get tired in the booth and tend to make mistakes as the hours drag on. But Robert doesn't. He finishes eight tracks in a single day, which is staggering. And what's more impressive is that this is his first recording session ever. Nobody knows how he does it, literally.

Sometimes when Robert's playing for others, he faces the wall with his back to them. So people can't see what he's doing with his hands or how he's coaxing this incredible sound out of his instrument. There are a lot of different theories about why he plays backwards. Some people think he's just shy and this is how he manages his nerves. Others say that facing the wall is better for the acoustics. But it's also possible that Robert has to hide his hands because otherwise people would realize he's not making this music on his own. In fact, some people claim they can hear two guitars in recordings from Robert's solo performances, as if the devil himself is playing a duet with him. I'm going to play a clip and let you decide for yourself.

This is the opening to Robert's song Crossroad Blues. Keep in mind, Robert is not playing with accompaniment. This recording hasn't been layered with any other takes. But if you listen chills, you're not alone. Those opening bars where you can hear a separate bass line and melody have even baffled professional musicians. In the early 1960s, Eric Clapton actually studies the track to try and solve the mystery.

And he concludes that Robert is playing both lines on his own simultaneously, the melody on one set of strings and the bass line on another, which obviously sounds more plausible than a duet with the devil, but Clapton, who knows his stuff, says this kind of playing is incredibly challenging. He can't even replicate Robert's method. And let's not forget, Robert allegedly learned to do this in about a year or so, after being regarded as the worst guitarist in Mississippi. So even if the devil isn't literally playing with Robert, it still seems like he's getting some sort of unnatural assistance. This is one of the reasons why, as soon as Robert bursts onto the scene,

rumors start swirling about his deal with the devil. But interestingly, most of these stories come from Robert himself. He reportedly tells his girlfriend's stories about making a deal at the crossroads. He records tracks called Crossroad Blues, Hellhound on My Trail, and Me and the Devil Blues. Maybe this is Robert's way of being tongue-in-cheek about the way people see blues as the devil's music. After all, if people are going to say his music is satanic anyway, he might as well make that his brand. Or maybe his songs are a confession of sorts, and the devil that's chasing him isn't just a metaphor. We've all heard the saying, buyer beware. Even if Satan is willing to give you what you want, his gifts often come with a twist.

If the legends are true, then Robert bartered his soul away for just musical skills. The agreement didn't guarantee fame or fortune or a long life or even happiness. Which may explain why after he allegedly strikes this bargain, Robert has this string of bad luck. It's so bad that it almost seems like he's suffering from some kind of curse. For example, in May 1931, just as his career is starting to pick up, Robert remarries and history starts repeating itself because before their first wedding anniversary,

Robert's new bride gets sick. She passes away the following winter. So now Robert has lost two spouses by the time he turns 22. A few years later, he has this horrible accident. He slips and falls into the road and gets run over by a truck. Somehow he survives. In fact, his injuries aren't that bad. He only needs to spend a few days in bed recovering. But a fellow musician who witnessed the accident seems to be so freaked out by the whole thing, he flat out refuses to collaborate with Robert ever again. It's as if he thinks Robert brought this upon himself somehow, like it was fate. And the bad luck affects his career too.

As talented as he is, bookers and agents keep overlooking him. He never makes it to the biggest concert halls, his album doesn't sell well, and the label he's on folds a few years after its release. He spends his entire career rambling through the deep south, playing at juke joints and street corners for pennies. It seems like there's something holding Robert back from real success. It could be a curse, although it could be something simpler. Robert is a black musician in a very racist, segregated society. In a lot of ways, the world actually is conspiring against him.

Earlier, I mentioned how Robert's first recording session was an incredible success. Well, it's actually a miracle he even made it into the session. Because the day before, the police falsely accused him of vagrancy. They arrest him, break his guitar, and assault him so severely that he's bruised and sore for days. The record company actually has to bail Robert out of jail and find him a new guitar with less than 24 hours notice. Of course, Robert still comes through with an amazing recording session, but it seems like fate really has it out for him. I don't know whether it's the devil, bad mojo, a curse, or just flat out racism, but misfortune plagues him right up until the day he dies.

And his cause of death is so bizarre, even historians agree that it's just not natural. Coming up, Robert Johnson's mysterious demise. Now back to the story. On Saturday, August 13th, 1938, 27-year-old Robert Johnson is playing at a bar in Mississippi. It's about 11 p.m. and he's drinking whiskey and flirting with a beautiful woman. He has no idea he's in danger. Because this woman he's charming is married. In fact, her husband Ralph works at the bar, and he sees what's going on between the

two of them. When Robert orders a fresh bottle of whiskey, one bystander notices the seal is broken. He realizes it's been tampered with and literally slaps the drink out of Robert's hand. I don't know if Robert's too drunk to realize what's going on or if this is just more evidence that he's cursed, but he screams at the bystander for spilling his drink, picks up the bottle, and chugs it. A few minutes later, Robert gets this terrible pain in his stomach. He feels woozy and he can't focus on his surroundings. A few patrons tell Robert he'll feel better if he gets up on stage, so he staggers to the front of the bar and tries to strum a tune, but he can't. He's literally too sick to perform.

Eventually, someone realizes that Robert's not in good shape, but everyone figures he's maybe just a little too drunk. They set him up with a quiet room in the back of the bar to lie down and later they take him back to his hotel to sleep it off. But Robert's condition only gets worse. For two days, he tosses and turns, fighting off waves of pain and nausea. He vomits so much his mouth and throat start bleeding. It's pretty clear that he's been poisoned. According to some reports, early in the morning of August 16th, Robert's mother comes to his bedside. While she's there, Robert makes a confession. He says that the blues are

tools of the devil. He doesn't come right out and admit he sold his soul, but he does confess that guitars are, quote, the devil's instrument. Robert admits that he's lived a sinful life, and he says he hopes God will forgive him. He announces that he thinks he'll be going to heaven. Then he takes his final breath and dies. A tragic end to a fascinating life.

If that's really what happened. Like everything about Robert's life, the story of his death is mostly based on rumors. His death certificate doesn't list a cause of death. There was no autopsy. After Robert's family hears rumors about the poisoned whiskey, they call for a murder investigation, but the cops barely look into it. They eventually conclude that he died of syphilis, which doesn't really fit the eyewitness accounts of his symptoms.

No matter what you choose to believe about Robert's death, one thing is clear. His vices certainly played a role in his early demise. Or to put it another way, he paid for his sins with his life. I don't want to get into a debate about religion or heaven or hell. I'll leave it to you to decide whether the devil exists and what it would actually mean to sell him your soul. What I will say is, it doesn't seem like a very good idea. But it's easy to see why Robert would make this kind of pact. He dedicated his entire life to music, practicing and traveling and performing around the clock for nearly a decade. If you're going to give up your life for a shot at greatness, why not give up the afterlife too? Thanks for listening. I'll be back next week with another episode.

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