The Blues Pilgrim Of Alligator Records Celebrates 50 Years

Over 50 years ago, 23-year-old Bruce Iglauer walked into a Florence’s, a blues club on Chicago’s South Side, and was transfixed by a three-piece band led by Hound Dog Taylor. Iglauer, a $30-a-week record store shipping clerk and blues lover, decided to take his meager savings and record the band.

Thus, the beginning of Alligator Records. Over the next 50 years, Iglauer would travel with his bands throughout United States as well as Canada, Europe, South America, Australia, New Zealand, Japan, Greece, Serbia, and Turkey. “I like being in foreign countries and experiencing different cultures,” says Iglauer, adding, “one thing about being a roadie—you don’t have much time to be a tourist.”

Thousands of miles and over 350 titles later, Alligator has grown into one of the most respected world-wide record labels. Today, June 18^th is Alligator’s 50^th Anniversary and the label is releasing 50 Years Of Genuine Houserockin’ Music, a collection of remastered modern blues and blues-based songs. Iglauer’s book, Bitten by the Blues, the Alligator Records Story, takes a deep dive into the history behind the label’s business, albums and artists.

From iconic blues stars Hound Dog Taylor, James Cotton, Koko Taylor, Johnny Winter, Marcia Ball, and many more to modern giants including Mavis Staples, Elvin Bishop, Charlie Musselwhite and Rick Estrin to contemporary young voices Shemekia Copeland, Selwyn Birchwood and Christone “Kingfish” Ingram, Alligator stays true to blues roots while breaking new ground. Recently at the Blues Music Foundation Awards, Alligator artists and albums won in nine of the 15 categories in which they were nominated. 

Alligator artists unanimously say that Bruce Iglauer has a good heart and loves the music. “Bruce can sometimes be stubborn, exasperating, and difficult to deal with, but only because he cares,” says world-class musician Rick Estrin. “If it wasn’t for Bruce, there’s a good chance I’d be sleeping on a cot in my sister’s basement.”

I caught up with Iglauer by Zoom in Mequon, Wisconsin, where he has been living since the beginning of Covid.

Some of your staff have been with you for more than 30 years, and one over 40 years. What keeps them there?

For them, this isn’t a job, this is a mission. If they don’t get that great story or that great airplay it’s always their fault, and their heads are on the chopping block. I have a very simple philosophy of that: ultimately it’s on me.

There’s a perception of record companies not paying artists or giving them royalties. Does Alligator handle business differently than other record companies?

When I started I knew I had to avoid being the evil record person, so I became scrupulous about royalties, I’ve got to make sure the artists get paid. When I gave Hound Dog his first payment in 1971, I only had some of the money; I came back a few weeks later to give him the rest. Word traveled amongst the blues community in Chicago, “the hippie pays royalties.”

At what point, post 1971, did you realize you were not going to be looking for another job?

I started with $2,700, all the money I had, but the first record had to pay for the second record, the second had the pay for the third. It was when I had the second Koko Taylor record, The Earth Shaker, which was pretty successful. And then in 1978, Albert Collins entered the label with the Ice Pickin’ album, so, it was seven years before I thought, okay, I think I’m going to make it.

Up until 1978, you showcased only Chicago artists, but then signed your first non Chicago blues artists. Albert Collins. Why?

I saw Albert live once in 1974 and was completely overwhelmed. He didn’t play with his hands in his arms, he played from his torso up. For me to record Albert Collins was more than I ever imagined for my little tiny record company, which at that point I’d moved from an apartment to a rental house and was running the label illegally out of the house.

During the 80s, you signed Professor Longhair who cut his last album with you. What was that like?

He, was very soft-spoken and it took him a while to figure out I was an actual fan. We were recording with his band and the guest was Dr. John, who came to play guitar, his original instrument. But he had a fingertip that got cut off possibly in some crime related situation, or perhaps by his drug dealer, and he had stopped playing guitar. Fess [Professor Longhair] had great ears, and said he was prouder of Crawfish Fiesta than any record he’d ever made, because he was more in control.

You signed Johnny Winter who wanted to get his blues roots back. What was that like?

Johnny was manic, very wired. We cut a lot of tracks. He decided what he wanted to finish because he heard the song in his head. He drank a lot, he smoked a lot of pot, but that was because he was so wired without it, that he could hardly hold still.

You also recorded Lonnie Mack produced by his number one, disciple, Stevie Ray Vaughan?

Lonnie’s career really collapsed and Stevie wanted to be the engine that brought Lonnie back. Stevie’s job was lending his name to the project to give it credibility and playing on a few songs. Every solo he recorded, he wanted to do over and over again because he so wanted to please Lonnie.

What was it like working with James Cotton?

James was so unpretentious, and he had so much fun playing music. He was like a big kid and a great band leader because he could show the band what to do. He was full of energy, and everybody was so excited and happy to be with him, that we were able to do that recording session, in maybe two takes of each song because he brought such spirit to the studio.  He’d been in the presence of giants but never considered himself one. He thought, “I get to play with Sonny Boy, I got to play with Muddy, how cool is that? How lucky am I?” Never, “how talented am I or I deserved that.”

Koko Taylor came to Chicago in 1951 in the back of a Greyhound bus with 35 cents and a box of Ritz crackers. Only Wayne Dang Doodle sold of the nine 45s she brought out. How did Alligator acquire her?

When I met Koko, Chess had been sold and Koko was back to doing what she had done before she was singing: a house maid. On the weekends, if her friend Mighty Joe Young was performing, she would come and sit in. She was just huge. She asked me if I’d like to record her. I thought Koko was a stand-up singer but a non-playing vocalist. How could I produce somebody who can’t show the band what to play?

I said, “Koko I’d love to try, but you don’t have a regular band. And I don’t think you’ve got a vehicle.” She called me up the next week and said, “I have my band rehearsal, here’s who’s in the band, and I just made a down payment on a van. Now, please get me some gigs.”

The first record I did with her, thankfully her friend Mighty Joe Young played on the record. Koko would talk to him and he would explain to the band what Koko was saying in more musical terms. Koko was very strong, and grew up in such adversity. I’ve learned so much from people who never finished third grade.

So many artists would kill to record with Alligator. What are you looking for? And is it true you won’t take an artist unless they’re willing to tour?

The first thing is passion, whether it’s a recording or a live performance. Then, originality. Does the artist have something unique to say? Are they trying to do something to push the envelope? I look for those artists who want to have a foot in the tradition and a foot in the future. Besides passion and originality, I want people who understand that they’re not only entertainers and creative artists, but they’re in the business of providing entertainment. And that means they show up on time. They advance their dates ahead of time. They do all the interviews that are necessary

Do you think there’s a future in Blues?

The future of blues depends on the music continuing to evolve. If the blues stays sounding like it did in 1965, then it will become an artifact, like New Orleans Jazz, essentially frozen in amber. Blues needs to keep up rhythmically and keep up with stories it tells, but it still has to have that tension and release and that healing quality the best blues has. If that happens, blues will continue to survive and to some extent thrive because it fulfills such basic human, emotional needs.

What do you want your legacy to be?

I want people to say, he recorded the music as it was. He encouraged the musicians who brought it forward and made it more contemporary and to speak to more contemporary audiences. And he launched the careers of the artists who will carry this music forward for the next 50 years.”