
Of all the postwar blues giants, John Lee Hooker was the rock star. The bluesman’s rebel streak was already in evidence when – aged just 14 – he ran away from the Mississippi farm of his childhood and a minister father who “thought the guitar was the Devil’s work”.
Yet Hooker’s true rebellion was his blood-oath to play the blues his way. Defying genre dogma and mangling song structure, his hypnotic riffs and acetate-ancient voice won him fanboys from Keith Richards to Carlos Santana. But for all the fame and fortune, you only had to look at Hooker’s face – impassive beneath the trademark hat and shades – to sense his higher purpose.
“The blues is my life,” he said in 1990. “I am the blues. I’ll never get out of them alive.”