Macon Magazine

52 maconmagazine.com | June/July 2024 C ontrary to the speculation of some myth-makers, he did not trade his soul with the devil at the crossroads in exchange for once-in-a- generation guitar chops. In fact, his vision of his "home-going," though he has raised the roof in rowdy arenas around the world and smoky juke joints alike, is decidedly sweet, simple, and sacred: "When my time comes, I want to be out there just sitting under an apple tree, playing, playing for the Lord, which is what I do anyway," he says, a slow, beatific smile spreading across his bearded face. "It's all for Him. And if I make it up there, I'll play for Him there, too." So, no Faustian bargains, and no church-born hang-ups about playing the "devil's music." Just a blessed, talking guitar that won't hush. Coleman – who was an integral virtuoso with both Percy Sledge and James Brown and still reigns today as Macon's No. 1 ax-slinger – developed his talents the old- fashioned way, through intense, lifelong dedication, helped along by super-sonic intuition. "I never took a lesson in my life," he says. "I play by ear. Anything I hear, I can play it. Never used a pedal or gadgets on the floor. Just a guitar and maybe an amp. That's all I need." He shrugs, as if it's simple. Coleman, 79 and willowy as a pole bean in a baggy, tomato-red suit, has been playing his entire life, since he was "up to here," he says, vaguely indicating his knees. He was one of four brothers born into a family on the south side of Macon, on Broadway, and he had a stepfather whose influence can still be felt in Coleman's playing. "His name was Everett Emory, but they called him 'Steel,'" Coleman recalls. "He was the best player I ever heard, and he could sing like anybody. He could have been one of the first Black men in country and Western, but he wouldn't record. Everybody in Macon begged him, but he wouldn't do it. He was more interested in staying with and supporting his family. He never taught me anything, but I watched him real close when he played to see what he was up to." Still, that guitar propped by his bed beckoned like some talismanic siren. "I remember that big, ol' box guitar," Coleman says. "Remember, now, I was just a little boy, pedaling around on a little tricycle. But I'd see that guitar over in the corner, and I'd get off my tricycle and plunk those strings, see what kind of sound they made." Soon enough, those plinks evolved into tunes. Like many musicians, Coleman got his start playing at church functions, and backed up local gospel groups including the Morning Stars and the Silver Bells. He also followed the musical course of others by transitioning from gospel to secular work. He played with the Royal Vees, and later the Nite Crawlers, with some newspaper ads lauding Coleman as "Macon's own Chuck Berry." He came of age as a musician during a propitious time, when Macon itself was becoming a torrential headwaters of music. James Brown had cut his first record here, effectively inventing funk, and Otis Redding's plaintive pipes were getting noticed. Tour buses and limousines lined Broadway, where musicians were sitting in barber chairs, wincing to endure lye treatments for their sky-high pompadours. "Macon then was wide open," Coleman recalls. "There were seven or eight clubs on Poplar Street, just between Broadway and Grant's [Lounge, which opened in 1971]." Phil Walden Artists and Promotions – run by impresario brothers Phil and Alan Walden – had the largest pool of consistently touring Black talent this side of Motown. Coleman jammed and noodled with all the local up- and-comers of the day: Calvin Arline (Bobby Womack, Cher); Newton Collier (Sam & Dave, Joe Tex); Shang-a-Lang Smith (Otis Redding); Eddie "Hogman" PREVIOUS PAGE MM partnered with And So We Go Productions for a look "Beyond the Pages," with a documentary interview between writer Candice Dyer and Coleman filmed at Third Street Studios followed by a rare solo performance by Coleman, filmed at Grant's Lounge, where he has played for decades. Pictured is Coleman just after recording his live set. All photos on this page, the next, and the previous by Gunner Robinson. ABOVE RIGHT The artist's virtuosic hands on his signature crimson-and-gold Gibson with mother-of-pearl fret inlays.

• Cover