The year 1971 witnessed the arrival of surprisingly few new superstars. Heroes from the days of psychedelic idolatry--the Airplane, the Dead, the Stones, John Lennon--regained their mortal human natures. The dream was over, music was de-politicized, and according to the media, students became either wonks or Jesus freaks. At concerts, the widespread occurrence of antisocial behavior, pseudo-radical disruption, and hostility toward performers seemed to reflect the pain of abandoning an essentially delusional relationship with popular music. The crash was an inevitable reaction, encouraged by many stars who combined a renewed emphasis on pure entertainment with a more frankly derivative approach.

Groups like the Rolling Stones, who have paid tribute to their rhythm and blues roots from the beginning, recently have gone one noble step further. By cooperating in recording sessions with their black mentors, by lending their names to various, more-or-less neglected saints of American blues, they have performed a gesture of both historical significance and tangible economic consequences. (Needless to say, it is an outrage that young, white bluesmen should possess such disproportionate earning power; certain old bluespeople are not even collecting their royalties on disputed copyrights for lack of legal counsel.) Actually, the idea is not new--the Yardbirds jammed with Sonny Boy Williamson years ago. What is new is the degree to which such superstars as Eric Clapton and Stevie Winwood have subordinated their personalities to the style of the master. It is a labor of reverence, requiring both musical expertise and interpersonal sensitivity.

Several major collaborations of this sort were released last year. My favorite is Blue Memphis Suite (Warner Brothers), which features the incomparable singer-pianist Memphis Slim, backed by guitarist Peter Green (Mayall's Bluesbreakers, Fleetwood Mac), organist John Paul Jones (Led Zeppelin), Duster Bennett on harmonica, Chris Spedding, Pete Winfield, and others. The performance of everyone, especially producer Philippe Rault, is absolutely flawless; the juxtaposition of early Forties blues structure with ultramodern instrumentation and arrangement completely transcends the concept of mere revival. It is a tour de force of textural and harmonic complexity within the blues idiom. On side one, expatriate Memphis Slim tells the story of his birth in Tennessee, migration to Chicago, and eventual emigration to France. Side two presents Slim's commentary on contemporary America, in such songs as "Youth Wants to Know," "Chicago Seven," and "Mason Dixon Line." This album is an all-European production and it brilliantly re-affirms the preeminence of the exploratory blues sensibility on that side of the Atlantic Ocean.

Another outstanding success in Europe was The London Howling Wolf Sessions, with Eric Clapton, Steve Winwood, Bill Wyman, Charlie Watts, and others. The personality of Wolf towers over the record, which is a testimony both of the record, which is a testimony both of the power of the man and of the humility and restraint of his assistants. The sound is very clean and precise; and while the choice of material includes famous hits ("Red Rooster," "I Ain't Superstitious," "Sitting on Top of the World"), one could complain that a precious opportunity was missed to capture more of Wolf's vast unrecorded repertoire.

B.B. King, too, had his B.B. King in London album (ABCX 730). He is heard with Jim Keltner, Bobby Keyes, Ringo Starr, and Mac "Dr. John" Rebennack, among others. While perhaps not as interesting--musically or sociologically--as the Memphis Slim and Howling Wolf records, it is nevertheless superb B.B. King music, with a delightful rhythmic variety to it.

The career of John Lee Hooker, the darkest blue of bluesmen, was given a boost by his association with Canned Heat. Hooker 'n Heat (Liberty) is a double album, half of which is John Lee with the band and the other half John Lee alone or sparingly accompanied (usually by the late Alan Wilson on harp.) The alliance is natural, as Canned Heat's sound is chiefly derived from the boogie beat which is Hooker's trademark. Alan Wilson and Bob "Bear" Hite are serious blues scholars; that they are actively promoting their heritage, not merely exploiting it, makes them almost unique among American rock stars.

Leon Russell made his contribution, not in the form of paying respect to an old master, but by involving himself with an emerging talent, Freddy King. King's career has the momentum to go a long way; Russell's influence on their first project, Freddy King Getting Ready (Shelter), is a healthy combination of supervision and modesty. Co-produced by Russell and Don Nix, the album offers an excellent selection of material and powerful interplay between King's biting lead guitar and vocals, Russell's distinctive piano, and Duck Dunn's bass. Freddy King's licks have been compared to those of the other two Kings, B.B. and Albert (no relation), but he has a versatility and rock empathy which cuts the other two to bits. A second lp by Russell and King, recorded live at the Armadillo World Headquarters in Austin, should be released soon. From all reports, it will be as exciting as Getting Ready.

Some of the best--if not most orthodox--blues music to emerge last year came from younger artists. In addition to the deaths of Otis Spann and Magic Sam, the world suffered the losses of King Curtis and Duane "Skydog" Allman last year. Allman was a guitarist of both incredible technical virtuosity and unerring taste. As a studio musician for Atlantic Records, he played on countless albums, ranging from those of Aretha Franklin to Boz Scaggs, Herbie Mann to John Hammond. He is best known, however, for his work in the Allman Brothers Band. After two good albums, a third and great album was released last year, The Allman Brothers Live at Fillmore East (Capricorn). Long famous for their live performances, the Allman Brothers amply demonstrate on this double lp why they are considered by many to be the best white blues band in the world. Duane lent his talents to another monster album of 1971, Derek and the Dominoes (Atco), which also must be considered Eric Clapton's best effort in years. The tightly interwoven lead guitar work of Allman and Clapton, ranging from dense, driving chords to ultra-high register wailing, is a rock masterpiece and surely the most perfectionistic endeavor in the field of pristine white blues. Funky, it ain't. If portions of Jimi Hendrix's music represent one pole--chaos--of the blues spectrum, then Derek and the Dominoes must be the pole of order. (This contrast can be clearly seen on "Little Wing." Hendrix's version of which is loose and airy. When Derek and Co. do it, they create an air of majestic, almost martial, pomp not unlike the "Triumphal March" in Aida.)

King Curtis perished at the peak of his career. He was the king of the rock and roll sax, his studio contributions stretching back to the Coasters' hit "Yakety Yak." His last album, Live at Fillmore West (Atco), was his best by far, despite the questionable inclusion of such songs as "Whole Lotta Love" and "Whiter Shade of Pale." With a phenomenal rhythm section driving him along, Curtis displays his prodigious control of the instrument in the essential Stax-Volt rhythm and blues vein.

23. What is Elvis' full name, where was he born, and what was the name of his twin brother who died at birth?  (3)

24. All of Elvis' dates made big news in the fifties. Who was the most important woman in his life?  (1)

25. Elvis' manager, Col. Tom Parker, worked in a circus, before taking on Elvis and striking it rich. What was his act in the circus?  (1)

26. As Mary, South Philly, used to say, "The lyrics aren't much, but it's got a good beat, you can dance to it, I give it an 85." Who played?

a. Sleepwalk

b. Afrikaan Beat