For
a musical art form to survive, it must be performed live, for real people, so
it can actively engage with the world around it. Starting in 1986, the veteran
bluesman known as Satan (born Sterling Magee, not a fan of organized religion)
and Adam Gussow very definitely kept the blues alive. Playing on the streets of
Harlem undeniably strengthened their attacks and gave them ample opportunity to
pick-up on all the life going on around them. Satan’s vocals started to incorporate
rap elements, while Gussow developed jazz saxophone influences on his mouth
harp. V. Scott Balcerek chronicles the duo’s life and times in his twenty-three-years-in-the-making
documentary, Satan & Adam, which
screens during the 2018 Tribeca Film Festival.
It
is probably the second most famous creation story in blues, after Robert
Johnson’s meeting at the crossroads. On that fateful day, Gussow asked to sit
in with Satan, who was already quite recognizable for playing solo electric
guitar, while accompanying himself on drums with the foot pedals. Satan was
curious enough to agree and was pleasantly surprised when the kid managed to
keep up. They started playing together so often, they became a regular act:
Satan & Adam.
Initially,
they busked on the streets, but they started to get respectable, recording an
album, holding down a regular weekly bar gig, and signing with a manager.
Frankly, their story was so attractive, it was probably inevitable they would
get at least fifteen minutes of fame. They were after all the first interracial
performers to appear together on the cover of Living Blues magazine. However, the music was so good and so
honest, they maintained a loyal (and rather sizable, by blues standards) fan
base, even after the music media moved on.
Balcerek
managed to capture a fair amount of those glory days and he was also there for
the quiet years of separation. Balcerek’s treatment is somewhat vague on the
particulars, but Satan had something like a nervous breakdown and moved to Florida,
where his Evangelical family forced him to temporarily give up the blues and
the “Satan” moniker. In his nonfiction collection, Journeyman’s Road, Gussow more-or-less suggests he had to learn to
let Satan go and get on with his own life.
As
poignant as those sentiments were, it turned out the music wasn’t ready to let
them go. In fact, S&A has the
best third act of any music doc since Searching for Sugar Man. It was maybe more like a fourth or fifth act, but for their
fans, it was utterly shocking good news, sort of like Harper Lee publishing Go Set a Watchman, but more satisfying.
It
is that combination of pain and joy that makes Balcerek’s film such an
immediately indispensable document of modern Americana. This film is blues to
the bone, including the clear-eyed manner it addresses issues of race. As is often
the case with jazz, the music we call the blues is frequently intertwined with racially
charged questions of authenticity. Yet, without white (and increasingly foreign)
audiences, there would be little market for the music. Of course, the first listeners
Satan & Adam won over were “pre-gentrification” Harlem residents, who just
responded to what they heard. If you respect the music, you also have to
respect young players keeping it alive, regardless what they look like. (That
is why it is so odd to see Al Sharpton turn up as a talking head in the film,
because probably nobody else who has done more to foster racial tension in New
York, through his involvement in the Tawana Brawley hoax and the Crown Heights Riots.)
Regardless,
it is impossible to miss the appealing symbolism of Satan & Adam for music
journalists and fans alike. Fortunately, Balcerek delves even deeper, really
getting at the essence of friendship and music. The blues is rooted in the
African American Delta experience, but it speaks to us on a universally
accessible level. Balcerek presents Satan and Gussow in a way that we can
similarly relate to. Satan & Adam is
a terrific film that will move your feet and your soul. Very highly
recommended, it screens this Wednesday (4/25) and Saturday (4/28), as part of
this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.
