It is a truism that Cambodia is a place where the well-travelled can find a place to stop a while. This is very much the case with Derrick Big D Walker, a wanderer based in Stockholm, Sweden. Sixteen months ago LengPleng first spoke to him for Passing Chords, when he’d been in Phnom Penh for only three weeks, and now as he prepares to leave he sat down for a full-length exit interview on the balcony at Oscar’s on the Corner.
You’ve played in many places around the world, what brought you to Cambodia? “Yeah, I’ve played in the most obscure places blues musicians can play. The Arctic Circle, Ukraine, China, Cambodia. My family thinks I’m insane. Cambodia? they ask.
“Many years ago I was in touch with Big Mike of Sharky Bar, and he was really encouraging – sure, we could use a blues frontman. But that never happened, I never made it. Later I was checking out what clubs were here. I’d see pictures of Oscar’s on the Corner, and I saw an interview that Jason [Rosette] did with Oscar on this very balcony. [Note: Big D was himself similarly interviewed early this year] I thought okay, I’ve got to get to that bar, that’s a good place for a blues guy. For some years, when I was doing my morning practice every day I would watch videos of walking tours of Phnom Penh and the like, so I had some impression of what it was like here. I saw videos of people like Colin Grafton and Captain Frank [Scarfone, of The Blue Souls] – yes, this band is a good blues band, I’m going to go find them. So I already had a direction. In the end I sort of willed myself to get to here.”
After that build-up, what was your first impression of Phnom Penh? “The first band I saw here was the Cambodia Country Band. Dang, man, these guys are good, really professional. So that was my first impression. And also that opportunities come up all the time. Can you play tomorrow night? Or next Saturday? In Stockholm everything is booked three months ahead of time. The difference is in Europe you’ll get an audience of people who like the blues, and here you never know who’s going to show up.
“There’s not much blues in Southeast Asia. Thailand has a small scene and Cambodia is even smaller. In China you can’t convince them of the connection between blues and rock’n’roll, they don’t hear it, they’re not going to believe it. Japan is a different story. One of the reasons for leaving is that I’m going to do some tours in Europe. I’ve been off the scene for so long – it’s been 15 years since I was doing tours – and so the offers are coming in. Spain, Holland, other places. In Europe, if you’re doing a gig the audience is probably there to hear the blues. When I played in Norway I couldn’t believe it. I started singing a song and the audience started singing along – they knew the words! You know the words to my song? That’s a great feeling, when the audience knows the words to your original songs.”
How did you get your start? “I grew up in the San Francisco Bay area, in Marin County, where I got into the blues scene, and wound up in the Michael Bloomfield Band – I was playing my saxophone on the stairs of Sausalito and Michael Bloomfield walked by, gave me a $20 bill and told me to show up at his gig. I went on to play in the whole blues scene that was so big at the time – through the seventies all the Chicago blues players wanted to come to San Francisco. And there was an interesting thing with the Black blues guys and the white blues guys. I was always in the middle – the Black guys were always telling me don’t tell the white guys this and that – why I wondered? And then it turned out that they were right. I’d give the information to the white guys, and what did they do? Rip me off, take the information, dump me, and use it themselves. There was a fear that the scene would be taken over by white people, which turned out to be true – all the same places became full of white people. The Black audiences went somewhere else to find some other kind of music. When I was playing blues in the Bay area it was all Black clubs, and the dancefloor was always packed – slow songs, fast songs. With white audiences it became a concert – we’re going to sit down and be cultured.”
Was it your experience as a Black American musician that you got treated better in Europe? “Absolutely. Are you kidding me? In San Francisco I was worked on the Golden Gate Bridge as a construction worker, where everybody’s got at least two jobs, and the guys are saying: you’re a musician man, what are you doing here? Get out of here, this work will kill you. Back in the 70s and 80s the usual gig paid between $5 and $50, you’re not going to get more than that. If it’s the full horn section you’re probably going to get five bucks. Once you get to Europe, suddenly everybody wants to hire you, all the bands and all the clubs, and there was no problem meeting a girl that liked you not because you have money – we don’t care how much money make. That was a big relief.
“I left America in 1983, and I haven’t lived there since. These days I’d be really nervous to live there. People are violent. And racism there is reactionary, they might harm you, kill you even. Swedes ask me how do you like living in Sweden? I say I like it a lot, no one’s ever shot at me. And they laugh. In the US I’ve been shot at, I’ve had guns held on me, I’ve been threatened by guns. Just somebody lifting their shirt to show you their gun, making you aware of their gun, it’s a threat. I really hate that. The gun industry is making a lot of money – if they didn’t manufacture them the guns couldn’t be bought. Isn’t that the place to start?”
Is there a particular country where you’ve really enjoyed playing? “Norway is probably the best, for finance and appreciation, to play blues music. With that said, there is a form of Scandinavian racism where they are totally unaware of their racism, they’re so innocently racist. They’re not going to hurt you, but they can’t help but to treat you differently. That’s a little weird – how much they love the blues and how little they know about what the people that played it went through. Why are you singing songs about picking cotton? You never picked cotton? Well, I guess the historian will set you right. Do you have any idea of what has happened to me in my life? I have songs about that too. You’re not a Viking but you’re proud of your Viking heritage. They assume, too, that your life is equal, that they’ve gone through the same things that you have. When you go down to the store do you worry that they’re going to be rude to you, because it’s happened so many times you just expect it? They’re not aware of that feeling. You develop a complex because you’re ready for this to happen, because it happens all the time. At the same time it works to my advantage – because I’m a Black blues musician I get opportunities – I guess it balances out somewhere.
“I used to play in Ukraine, that was really sweet. I was scheduled to go back there two weeks before the war started – now it’s impossible. Keeping the connection with those people means a lot to me. When I played there it was like the Martians had landed. I was one of the only blues musicians that had showed up there in 20 years, it was that big of a deal. I got to tour the entire country three or four times, and every gig was packed. They paid attention to the lights and sound, and anything you wanted to drink and eat. They didn’t have much whiskey, the big hard drink was brandy, and you can’t drink brandy like you drink whiskey, you’ll die. I know, I tried!”
How has Cambodia treated you overall? “I see this as a place I can come back to. I miss the European audiences, where you get a room full of people that came to hear the blues. But I couldn’t live this lifestyle in the States for example – I have friends there that are really suffering. Gigs come up here all the time, but there’s also not much choice of who to play with, and everyone’s already in two or three bands. I was thinking of maybe coming back with a guitar player, already having a show. I’m not burning any bridges here.
“I want to thank everybody who helped me here. I couldn’t have made it without friends. I would like to thank Phil Javelle for being so helpful – any time I had any kind of problem I could always go to him and he would always have a solution. He hired me for most of the gigs I’ve done here, and he’s given me a chance to do some gigs that were a bit over my head, but it made me work harder, and I really appreciate that.
“I appreciate Colin Grafton and Keiko Kitamura. Colin has spent a long time reading my scratchings and listening to my babblings; he’s a good harmonica player. Just really great people. I’d like to thank Chris Hilleary, he’s like an angel or something. When I had my operation and I was stuck in my top floor apartment and there was no elevator for the last two floors, he brought me food and everything. I’d like to thank him.
“And of course The Blue Souls, they’re a great blues backing band, I’m really happy that I hunted them down. Call me The Blues Stalker.
“I also have to mention Frisco Tony – I love Frisco Tony. We’re about the same age, and he also lived in the Bay area, so we know a lot of the same places and people. We’ve talked about the old San Francisco music scene. I’m glad I got to know him. ”
“And Oscar’s on the Corner – Oscar and Scoddy and the girls and the bar staff, they are all my favourites. Thank you!”
Big D Walker will play his last Phnom Penh show (for now) at a special guest-studded night at Oscar’s on the Corner on Friday 13 October.