A guitarist who never got that comfortable on electric guitar may seem an unlikely choice for a 20th century guitar hero. But if musical heroics are judged on a player's versatility, and the resulting plethora of appearances and recording credits, then Everett Barksdale might just have the edge on quite a few more famous axemen. One of many important musicians to come out of Detroit, Barksdale came from the generation of musicians that was drawn into various swing jazz and classic jazz combos. Barksdale fell in with company -- one of his frequent associates was the great bassist Milt Hinton -- who were on call for a variety of studio sessions in the overlapping musical territories of doo wop, rhythm blues, early rock roll, and just plain old pop music. If the keynote blues lick on Mickey Sylvia's chart hit Love Is Strange sounds vividly authentic, literally drenched in blues, it is because by the time Barksdale came up with the lick he had already been soaking up various blues-related genres for decades. He apparently played several different stringed instruments such as bass and banjo in a selection of bands in the Detroit area before choosing the guitar as his main weapon. In the early '30s, he moved west to Chicago where he got his first gig of note, playing in the happening dance band of Erskine Tate. From here he moved to Eddie South's band, holding down the guitar chair in that combo for most of the decade before joining up with skilled reed player and arranger Benny Carter. In the '40s, Barksdale headed for New York, where his activity began to split into club work with small jazz groups and studio sessions at which many different styles of music were created. A year-and-a-half-long stint as a house musician with the CBS radio network in New York expanded the musical outlook even further.

Throughout the '40s and '50s, he worked with producers such as Joe Davis, cutting tracks with vocal groups such as the Blenders and the Clovers as well as backing up vocalists including Dean Barlow and Maxine Sullivan. An incredible challenge was awaiting him at the end of the '40s -- joining the trio of the virtuoso blind pianist Art Tatum. Barksdale replaced Tiny Grimes in a group that had modeled its sound after the popular Nat King Cole combo. There were important differences, however. The main one was the technique and concept of the pianist in charge. Tatum was capable of reinventing harmony while tossing in a supply of notes that would have sustained much of the human race economically were they five-dollar bills, Instead, the music of this group, also featuring the wonderful bassist Slam Stewart, became a source of aesthetic wealth, although some critics have described the trio as "organized chaos." It is one of the legendary jazz groups that is said to have never rehearsed, a claim backed up by both Barksdale and Stewart in interviews. In the book -Jazz Makers, the guitarist says of Tatum: "He'd always say he didn't 'hear' what he was going to play in advance, he'd just feel it; and since so much of what we did was extemporaneous, not routined, sometimes he'd get off on something and just leave me out in left field." This left field turns out to be a perfect planting place for Barksdale's light touch. Perhaps he was just trying to stay out of the way, a good idea in any rhythm section, but the guitarist's preference for dryer, thinner textures is consistent with his less comfortable feel on the clunkier electric guitar. In 1956, he became musical director of Ink Spots, a short sabbatical from the relationship with Tatum. But after the pianist's death in the late '50s, Barksdale was more involved with studio work, including a long tenure with ABC in house band status. He can be heard on excellent recordings with Lena Horne, Sammy Davis, Jr., Dinah Washington, and Sarah Vaughan, among others. He stepped out every now and then for jazz dates, recording with tough tenor saxman Buddy Tate. The move didn't exactly please some jazz guitar critics, who hold up these sides as evidence of the man's flabby electric guitar sound. Arranger and conductor Dick Jacobs made better use of Barksdale and trumpeter Clark Terry to augment the working band of Louis Armstrong in an ambitious, often emotionally substantial project for Satchmo. California called come the '70s, and at this point the man's career slows down somewhat; in fact, as of the late '70s, he was officially listed as retired. ~ Eugene Chadbourne, Rovi