The history of South Carolina blues is a long, deep--and sometimes painful--story. However, it is a narrative with aspects as compelling as the music itself. Geographical differences in America led to variations in the styles of music that developed from African rhythms. The wet, marshy landscape and hot, muggy weather of the Carolina Lowcountry combined to cultivate not only rice, but a Gullah-based style of South Carolina blues. In drier climates, toward the Midlands and the Upstate, the combination of European influences led to the emergence of Piedmont blues, which in turn spawned country music as well as bluegrass. Those same Gullah roots resulted in four major dance crazes, starting with the Charleston.

Through detailed interviews with 19 South Carolina musicians, jazz historian and radio host Benjamin Franklin presents an oral history of the tradition and influence of jazz and the blues in the Palmetto State.

This groundbreaking book chronicles the history of sickle cell anemia in the United States, tracing its transformation from an "invisible" malady to a powerful, yet contested, cultural symbol of African American pain and suffering. Set in Memphis, home of one of the nation's first sickle cell clinics, Dying in the City of the Blues reveals how the recognition, treatment, social understanding, and symbolism of the disease evolved in the twentieth century, shaped by the politics of race, region, health care, and biomedicine. Using medical journals, patients' accounts, black newspapers, blues lyrics, and many other sources, Keith Wailoo follows the disease and its sufferers from the early days of obscurity before sickle cell's "discovery" by Western medicine; through its rise to clinical, scientific, and social prominence in the 1950s; to its politicization in the 1970s and 1980s. Looking forward, he considers the consequences of managed care on the politics of disease in the twenty-first century. A rich and multilayered narrative, Dying in the City of the Blues offers valuable new insight into the African American experience, the impact of race relations and ideologies on health care, and the politics of science, medicine, and disease.

The devil is the most charismatic and important figure in the blues tradition. He's not just the music's namesake ("the devil's music"), but a shadowy presence who haunts an imagined Mississippi crossroads where, it is claimed, Delta bluesman Robert Johnson traded away his soul in exchange for extraordinary prowess on the guitar. Yet, as scholar and musician Adam Gussow argues, there is much more to the story of the devil and the blues than these cliched understandings. In this groundbreaking study, Gussow takes the full measure of the devil's presence. Working from original transcriptions of more than 125 recordings released during the past ninety years, Gussow explores the varied uses to which black southern blues people have put this trouble-sowing, love-wrecking, but also empowering figure. The book culminates with a bold reinterpretation of Johnson's music and a provocative investigation of the way in which the citizens of Clarksdale, Mississippi, managed to rebrand a commercial hub as "the crossroads" in 1999, claiming Johnson and the devil as their own.

How do you love and not like the same thing at the same time? This was the riddle that met Mississippi writer B. Brian Foster when he returned to his home state to learn about Black culture and found himself hearing about the blues. One moment, Black Mississippians would say they knew and appreciated the blues. The next, they would say they didn't like it. For five years, Foster listened and asked: "How?" "Why not?" "Will it ever change?" This is the story of the answers to his questions. In this illuminating work, Foster takes us where not many blues writers and scholars have gone: into the homes, memories, speculative visions, and lifeworlds of Black folks in contemporary Mississippi to hear what they have to say about the blues and all that has come about since their forebears first sang them. In so doing, Foster urges us to think differently about race, place, and community development and models a different way of hearing the sounds of Black life, a method that he calls listening for the backbeat.

We have been promising this book for ten years. The first eight years the only thing we wrote was the title. Black White and Carolina Blue seemed to us and others like a pretty good name for some type of book but there was widespread doubt we would write the rest of it. We have now finished a story we can share. We want to tell it to our personal family members, our friends, our amazing scholarship students, and to all the people in the Carolina Family. There is a long history here dating back to the university founding in 1789. There is a short story of our time there in the 1960's. If you, the reader, do not share part of that history, I hope you will also find the narrative interesting and entertaining. If you do, come spend a spring time day on the campus in Chapel Hill; see a fall football game against our biggest rivals; watch a Carolina/Duke basketball game in the Dean Dome-you will have to plan in your budget to purchase that ticket. Enjoy a lecture, a concert, or a Play-makers production. Enjoy our book and thanks for your support of the University of North Carolina.

For fans of the blues, Drink Small is synonymous with South Carolina. Drink rose from the cotton fields of Bishopville to become a music legend in the Palmetto State and beyond. The self-taught guitarist has written hundreds of songs and recorded dozens of albums spanning the genres of country, blues, folk, gospel and shag. The success of that music allowed him countless honors, such as playing the stages of the Apollo and Howard Theaters, touring with legendary R&B singer Sam Cooke and playing the best blues festivals in the world. He even developed his own philosophy: Drinkism. Author Gail Wilson-Giarratano details the dream, the music and the life that created the Blues Doctor.