Robert Finley – The 13th Floor Interview

At age 63, Robert Finley is just hitting his stride. The Louisiana-born musician releases his new album, Goin’ Platinum!, today. 

The record was produced by The Black Keys’ Dan Auerbach and features some of Memphis’ finest session players including the legendary Duane Eddy.

The 13th Floor’s Marty Duda spoke to Robert Finley about his 60 + years journey to where he is now.

Click here to listen to the interview with Robert Finley:

Or, read a transcription of the interview here:

MD: I’m curious how you and Dan Auerbach initially met and talked about how you would work together. Could you explain that to me, please?

RF: Man! To be honest, when I met Dan the first time, I thought Dan was a ‘Dave’, and… I was getting the names mixed up; finally – when I first met him – I met him in his studio. I didn’t know who Dan was, because I’m a carpenter in a small town, and my music, basically, was playing gospel for the church on Sunday morning; and so, I was known for just being the gospel singer on the Earnie Miles Show – the local TV show that came on KNOE. I met a guy at KNOE that took me to Helena, Arkansas, where he owned a club and a restaurant… and he was advertising for one of his restaurants on TV… and I played for him, because… I was doing a commercial… working at the TV station – I wasn’t getting paid, I was just down there, because it was an opportunity to display my talent – and I ran into this guy, and he said he was advertising for his restaurant… and I said, “Man, what-up! All y’all need is some blues at that restaurant!” He said, “Yo! We can try that! I like the way you sound;” and so, he just invited me to come to his place and play there Tuesday night, and I did, and he wasn’t there, but I kept hooking up anyway, and, finally, his daughter got him on the phone. He had forgot to tell somebody he had invited me, because she was saying, “We don’t have music on Tuesday night,” and I said, “Well, Tom told me to come here,” and she said, “Well, that’s my dad.” I said, “That’s the guy I talked to….” She said, “Well, let me see if I can call him.”

Anyway, I got a chance to play that one Tuesday night, and they liked it – his wife liked it, the daughter liked it and the customers liked it – and he said, “Look, man! Can you come back next Tuesday, so I can hear you,” so he could be there in person to see this sound. That would have been about four years ago since I started playing at the place…. He invited me out and I realised I was losing my sight – going blind – because I was a carpenter, and I couldn’t see how to read the tape measuring board; so, that’s really what made me start to try and figure out a way to make a dollar. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it was a lot of fun. He said, “Man! You can go to this Helena, Arkansas with me… and ride up with me and stay in my mobile home, or whatever you want to do, because I’m going to be up there for two or three days…. If you want to go, be there at two o’clock in the morning,” and he didn’t think I was going to go, but I got up at two o’clock in the morning, and I was parked at his restaurant in my car… watching TV – I could drive then, but now my sight is gone.

So, this guy invited me up; I played on the streets, busking… they weren’t going to let me busk, because I didn’t have a permit, but I found out that they had a jam session on the big stage… and I went, and I found out who was the stage manager, and he told me, “Yeah, we’re going to have a jam session.” I said, “Man! Well, I sure like to jam! I like to rock the strap!” He said, “What do you play?” I said, “I play guitar.” He said, “You got a band?” I said, “No.” He said, “What you play?” I said, “I play lead guitar and sing.” He said, “You want to play with a band?” I said, “Nah! I don’t know nobody, and don’t nobody know what I do. I just want to take it solo,” and I said, “If you give me ten minutes, I’ll make it or break it;” and so, he said, “Feller, you know what? You come back in about thirty minutes; I’m going to give you that ten minutes….” When I walked up with my little stuff, he said, “Oh, you don’t need this stuff, put it to the side. You’re going to sing through our stuff….” He just got up and told the people, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is Robert Finley, and he’s going to sing us a song… before the show starts;” so, actually, I was the first one to perform, because the show hadn’t started – it wasn’t time for the jam session.

He gave me those few minutes out with the crowd, and I just shut my eyes and went to singing. After the first song – I couldn’t see the people; I could hear – the crowd kept getting louder and louder; and so, he told me to do it again and sing another song. So, I sang another song, and then I got tunnel vision; but I wasn’t trying to look at the people, I was looking directly at my fingers – because I don’t need to make a mistake: this is my break – I had to take it seriously. I said, “It’s now or never,” and then, at the end, when I did look up from my hand and look out across, by the time the light from the stage had lit up, and the crowd was there, I was like, “It happened!” The moment, the opportunity, that I’d been waiting for, for all these years!

From that, that’s how I wound up meeting Dan. There was a guy that came up to me, and started taking pictures in my face, and he said to me, “Man, how would you like to do this all over the world?” and I said, “Alright,” I didn’t pay him any attention… but… he said he’d call me back. When he did call me, I was still skeptical, because I didn’t know what he was in; so, I just told him, “Nah! Let me come to you. I come to where you at. It’s cheaper for me to come to you, than you to come to me.” He said, “Will you come?” I said, “Yeah.” He was a young man… name of Aaron; he was the one that called and told me about it. He said, “We’ll send you a plane ticket,” because I told him, “I’ll come if you buy the ticket,” because I figured, when I told him that they had to buy the plane ticket, that was going to be, pretty much, the end of it…. I’ve been all over the world in the military, and I… all the places I hadn’t been, I wasn’t worried about it; I was just going to give up on it; but then, opportunity came back. I thank God that I just happened to be in the right place at the right time, and the Maker introduced me to Bruce, which is Fat Possum, I didn’t know what I was getting into there, but I said, “Well, it ain’t costing me nothing; I’m going to give it my best shot.”

Worked out a super record that came out sounding good, and people were excited about it, and they introduced me to Dan…. I was into carpentry and, basically, my Sunday morning service gig, and the rest of the time was for rest –the rest of the time, I needed that rest. I had the construction going, and the church thing was just for the soul’s salvation; it wasn’t about the money, because the church couldn’t afford to.

MD: I believe you grew up in the 1960s, and growing up in Louisiana. What kind of music were you exposed to then? What were you listening to that helped form the way you sound like today?

RF: To be honest, I wasn’t allowed to listen to nothing but gospel, as a little kid. My dad: he didn’t allow us to play the blues on the radio; it was the Devil’s music. My dad was a deacon that believed in prayer and hard work…. We were happy. We were poor and we didn’t know it – I didn’t know it! I thought we were living high on the hog: we had a field full of corn…. My dad was a share cropper, finally, my brothers got old enough to speak, and they said, “Dad. We’re going to help you do this crop this year, and we’re not farming no more….” I’m the youngest of the boys; I never would have looked dad in the eye and said that. They told him they weren’t going to help him, and we sat down and we had a family conversation. I can remember that that was the last crop. My brothers were grown. They were old enough to make it on their own, and they had just said they were getting out of here. My dad, then, went to work building a house – he just started building a house – and we said, “When we’ve finished this farm, we’ll take this crop, and build a house.” One year, they bought the land, and the next year, they built the house; and the house was built out of an old church that they had torn down. I want to say it was part of the church that I grew up in…but they tore that church down, and my dad, now, helped build the new church. The lumber that was left from building the new church, that’s what my dad was building our house out of; but my dad built our home.

MD: When did you start listening to music, other than gospel music?

RF: When I left home; when I was in the military. You’ve got to live the blues to really feel it. You got to bend down before you really appreciate being up: you don’t know how blessed you are, to be up, unless you been down. In some cases, we don’t realise how good it is to be well, until we’ve been sick, and gotten over sickness. I’m not where I want to be, yet, but life’s journey doesn’t stop until life is over. I don’t know where this is going, but I tell my kids and all, “I’m my own worst critic,” and, “Winners don’t quit, and quitters don’t win;” so, if I ever say I’m where I want to be or satisfied, then that wouldn’t be no purpose for going on with life. The more you get, the more you want; but I’ll never be satisfied with my own work, because, deep in my heart, even when I listen to myself played back on a CD, or watch a video that some of my kids are showing – my daughter’s got a big TV, and she hooks it up where I can really see – I enjoy the moment, but I see every little mistake; so, that makes me strive to try to do better, “Don’t make that mistake again.” The sound of the crowd is what – can I say – I get the energy from; because, I’m a sixty three year old man, and I really can’t do that, unless the music is playing and the crowd is screaming; that brings out the best in me….

MD: Robert, I was hoping you could just talk to me, a little bit, about the tour coming up, that you’re going on: the Easy Eye Revue with Dan and some other folks. Are you looking forward to that? Do you know what you’re going to be doing there?

RF: Man, I’m living my childhood dream! It’s the greatest thing that’s happened to me in my lifetime. It’s holding onto the dream, and realising that the dreams do come true, and the good Lord will give you the desires of your heart if you stay faithful and believe in it. It ain’t what you do; it’s how you do it. I’m still absorbing it, and trying to get used to it; but – as I tell the crew – every morning, I put my hat on my head at seven and a quarter, and as long as the hat fits my head, then my head hasn’t swollen. I’m looking forward with those guys; I love them! It’s just like a new family. Everybody’s concerned about everybody’s best interests, and concerned about each other, because this thing needs to last us as long as the good Lord above will allow it to last. I’m in it for the long haul!

MD: Excellent! Hopefully, you can get down to New Zealand, at some point, and play. We’d love to see you down here.

RF: Man, I tell you what: you get with the booking managers, and put them together. Like I tell them: “I’m in neutral:” I’ll go anywhere this… takes me!