Here I Go Again Got My Mojo Working
this issue Whitesnake legend, Bernie Marsden, attempts to put his finger on the eternal question – what is mojo?
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always played Got My Mojo Working by Muddy Waters, and about ten years ago in Mississippi, I was given my own personal mojo by a blues musician I had met in Clarksdale. He gave me a little black bag and said that the “Mojo” would take care of me out on the road. That little black bag has hung on the side of my travel bag ever since. The bag holds all the vital travel items: passport, a bit of local currency, a notepad, plectrums, toothpaste, a spare toothbrush, that kind of thing, but it also has my ‘mojo’ attached to the side.
More than ten years on since I was given the small bag and I still haven’t looked inside. I don’t know what is in that bag, and if I’m honest I don’t know if I want to know, but I like knowing that it’s there after the musician gave it to me in good faith.
So, what is a ‘mojo’?
It seems that the word ‘mojo’ is early 20th century, around 1926. I’ve done a bit of research and although the word is mainly associated with the USA, it’s likely to be of African origin. There is an African word ‘moco’ that means ‘witchcraft’, and this adds up seeing as ‘mojo’ is believed to be a talisman, magic charm, helper, or a kind of spell. Well, I’m not sure that any of that is right but I do know that some guitars I have owned and handled over the years certainly do have a kind of mojo.
I was recently in Hamburg and visited a friend’s store for a guitar weekend. During the weekend, he took me to one side and proceeded to take a guitar out of a large iron safe. The door creaked open and he handed me a brown Lifton guitar case. Inside the case was a 1957 refinished Gold Top Les Paul. It was no longer gold but refinished in a cherry sunburst as many of those 1950s guitars are.
I plugged the guitar in, and it felt as if I had been playing that guitar for 20 years; it sounded magical through an old Fender Twin. The guitar certainly had ‘mojo’. The owner then informed me that the guitar was formerly the very one Dickey Betts had played for many years in The Allman
Brothers Band. I have played many Les Pauls over the years, but this one just had something about it. Exactly what it is I don’t know, and I was then told that Joe Bonamassa had also played it a few days before me and had the exact same reaction. I was then given a Sonic Blue early 60s Stratocaster, formerly owned by Keith Scott, who plays with Bryan Adams, and once again the guitar had a special feel to it. It was a player’s guitar, not in perfect original condition, but easy to play and a fab sounding guitar.
As I flew back from Hamburg, I remembered other guitars over the years that have stood out for no apparent reason, and I now realise that they had a kind of mojo about them.
I’m sure you know that Gary Moore was a good mate of mine. Back in the 70s, after Gary acquired Peter Green’s Les Paul, Neil Murray brought it to my flat in London. Neil was about to change the pick-up positions on the guitar and I was aghast. I said that it would change the sound, which was incorrect of course, but Neil carried on and changed them to the accepted position. In no time at all, however, Gary sure enough reversed them back! I played that guitar quite a lot in those days, but I had The Beast at the time and was still beside myself about owning my very own original Les Paul. Looking back now, I wonder if the famous Green/Moore guitar had special mojo. I did own another very famous Gibson Les Paul for a short time, but I can say that that one never had the mojo I felt with the other guitars I have mentioned. For details, you will have to read my book, Where’s My Guitar?.
Is the mojo a figment of our imagination? Arguably, but I don’t think so, as it’s something everyone in a room can feel. I played a very old and very worn acoustic guitar at a friend’s house many years ago, and was very surprised by how good it immediately felt. I was then told after that Big Bill Broonzy and Muddy Waters played and used that guitar.
One time when I felt a 100 per cent bond with a guitar was at the Buxton Opera House. I was invited to play the Rory Gallagher memorial concert and so I took a Stratocaster with me – I thought it was the thing to do. After a few songs, Rory’s brother Donal walked onto the stage behind me and was met with a huge roar of approval from the audience. I turned around and Donal had Rory’s battered Strat in his hands. He smiled at me, took the microphone in his hand and said, “I think my brother would approve of this.” He passed me the fabled guitar.
I was the first person to use the guitar on stage after Rory’s passing and I can tell you without exception that the guitar was soaked to the core with mojo. The strings were old, hadn’t been changed since the great man’s passing, but when I plugged the guitar in it was as though it was on fire. I looked into the crowd and witnessed tears rolling down faces as I went into one of Rory’s songs that night.
I managed to control my emotions on the stage. Playing Rory’s guitar was a deeply special moment for me, and I know that when I loan The Beast out on occasion to people like Joe or Warren Haynes, they get the same feeling.
Once again, Joe Bonamassa has played that guitar, and he was sensible enough to put new strings on it – I don’t think I would have changed the strings even if I could. Joe sounded fabulous with the guitar and we both agreed that there was something incredibly special about the instrument.
I recently recorded with my 1952 Gold Top, and I was taken aback by the sound and feel of it. It’s a guitar I’ve owned for a few years now, but it had stayed in the case until that recording session. Well, that’ll now change for sure. Peter Green once told me about an early 50s Gibson Les Paul Gold Top that Duster Bennett and he both played. He said that it was very special, had something about it, and was told that Muddy Waters possibly owned that guitar. As the great man once said, it “Got my mojo working”.
See you next month, folks.
“Is mojo a figment of our imagination? I don’t think so, as it’s something everyone in a room can feel” BERNIE MARSDEN