Artist

Rudy Greene

Genre: R&B ,Early R&B ,Electric Blues ,Jump Blues
Origin: U.S.A
Listen on Coda
Born Rudolph Spencer Greene, the performer frequently appears under the erroneous credit Rudy Greene on album credits. Though never a high-volume or celebrated figure in blues, his contributions surface repeatedly on anthologies devoted to rowdy blues, early rock, and R&B. Such collections—billed as “stomping,” “screaming and frantic,” “jumping and jiving,” or simply overflowing with “too much rocking”—regularly feature his tracks. Among these, the comic “I Want a Bowlegged Woman” and the dreamlike “Juicy Fruit” stand out, the latter resurfacing on multiple early-rock and regional-label anthologies with its memorable line “I got a car so long I park it in the air.” Greene’s style occupies the ambiguous zone linking blues and rock, sometimes classified as rockabilly because his initial recordings originated in Nashville. A follower of T-Bone Walker, he is documented in the sole surviving photograph executing the same behind-the-head guitar maneuver for which Walker was renowned; his own solos replicate Walker’s incisive tone and fluid melodic phrasing. Greene began cutting blues sides as a guitarist and vocalist for Nashville’s Bullet imprint in 1949. Several years afterward he led two sessions for the Chance label and, in 1953, backed vocalist Bobby Prince as a sideman. By 1955 he held a steady engagement at Chicago’s Club 34 and recorded for the local Club 51 label under the name Rudy Greene & the Four Buddies. That ensemble united Greene with the vocal group comprising Ularsee Minor, Jimmy Hawkins, Irving Hunter, William Bryant, and Dickie Umbra, supported on piano by Prince Cooper and on saxophone by Eddie Chamblee. On the intense “Highway No. 1” from these dates, Greene’s vocal approach drew comparisons to Roy Brown. Seeking a milder climate, he relocated in 1956 to Tampa’s club circuit and secured a contract with New York’s Ember label. The resulting “Juicy Fruit” achieved regional success, yet Ember diverted its modest promotional resources to Lee Allen’s “Walkin’ With Mr. Lee,” allowing Greene’s record to languish. Similar inattention undermined his next Ember release, after which Greene disappeared from view.