OK, that's good. Well, after I actually felt, and I, believe me, I didn't tell too many people about what I had in mind, because I didn't know whether I'd be able to pull it off, when I wanted to open up my recording studio. Now keep in mind you've got two very young kids and a wife and a mother and ah, a deaf mute aunt and you are having to look out for all of their... their ah, affairs and things necessary to keep them going. And I just found it difficult to move in to the area of trying to put in a recording studio, knowing I didn't have enough money to buy the equipment that I wanted. And ah, number two, I... I didn't know whether I could pay the rent. So I went all over town looking for some vacant storefront or anything I could get in. I knew it wouldn't take me a hell of a lot of room because I just knew what I could do acoustically. I mean I always felt comfortable dealing with acoustics. Even though I wasn't all that experienced at that time. But anyway, I opened up at 706 Union. I found this little storefront building and I guess it's about 18 x, at that time, 18 x 35 feet or something like that. And we... we started to do some programs called um, ah, "Buck Turner and his Buckaroos," which was to try to keep the doors open. I also was recording ah, weddings and funerals and anything we could record and conventions at the Peabody, just to keep the doors open to... to do. I wasn't ashamed of what I was doing. I just didn't want everybody to know what in the hell I was going to try to do here. Because I knew I was going to get me some black folks in that studio one way or the other. And so I did. I... BB King, the Harry Boys had come to town, and ah, wanted me to... this is before I had Sun Records now. And they wanted me to, ah, I had sent them a tape on BB King, an audition tape, and they wanted me and Roscoe Gordon, and so they called me and wanted me to come in town and I recorded it. And ah, the next thing you know they were gone with the tape, one of them took an airplane that night they was so pleased with what they got. Now ah, and... and BB King of course is history. And certainly I don't claim all of the credit for BB King or any of it really. But I decided after recording "Rocket 88" for Leonard Chess, Chess Records out of Chicago, that to me this was a... a gut bucket type of thing that wasn't quite gut bucket, but was gut bucket because we made it gut bucket because necessity made it... made us have to make it gut bucket because the damn amplifier fell off the... ah, the car coming up from Clarksdale, Mississippi, busted the ah, speaker. So I stuffed newspaper in it and we got a sound that really made it sound... sound gutty. And to me that was Ike Turner and Jackie Brinston. Jackie did the vocals and he played the ah, tenor sax on it. And that was just ah, an incredible record. I mean, I mean to me, not because they said it was later on, but it was an incredible record, ah, that I heard when we recorded that. Then I said, you know, there's got to be a way to keep the doors open here long enough for me to prove either that I'm right, or I'm wrong about what I can do with these people that have never been in a recording studio, most of which probably would never get to go because they didn't have the money to get to Memphis hardly, from Clarksdale and these different towns around in Arkansas and Mississippi. And so ah, I just stuck by it, um, I... I hate to say this but I did get a lot of criticism for recording black people. I mean a lot of it was a friendly type of thing, but you know, I didn't give one holy damn about that. That didn't bother me at all, because ah, ah, there was nothing wrong with me doing the Peabody Bands at night and coming out there and... and forgetting the charts and ah, playing from the skull, you know, and from the heart and from the belly and from the soul. And that was such a release for me. I just simply absolutely loved it. But at the same time, I knew that "these people were truly just -- let's face it now -- amateurs." They'd had no professional experience in... in this sort of thing. There wasn't that many places for them to even play in these little night clubs, but there was some around. So I knew, my thing was that black folks when they came to visit with white folks, some how or another they had in their mind, let's don't miss this opportunity, let's don't blow this one. Let's play something like Duke Ellington or... or this -- how about Nat King Cole or... and listen, who in the world was better than Nat King Cole. But one Nat King Cole is all you're going to get, I'm sorry. One Duke Ellington is about all -- or one Count Basie is about all you're going to get. And I wasn't interested in that. Anyway, they were doing that pretty good elsewhere. But I knew that the things that I had heard from childhood, and I knew what was in and around the environs of this area, that if I could get them in there and have them be themselves and turn off the idea that they're playing music for any white man sitting behind the glass, we might have some fun. And if we had some fun we might cut some records that might interest some people in saying, you know, I never thought about that. That is pretty interesting, isn't it. Yeah. We didn't think we was going to be a flash in a pan or set the world on fire with the first record. In fact, it was... I mean they... the base was so narrow for rhythm and blues records or race records as they were know as then, that ah, gosh, anybody that went into that business and had little independent labels and independent distributors and starving to death that thought they were going to get rich and all of that, they went in for the wrong purposes. That was never on my mind. I knew I had to make enough money, by golly to ah, to keep the doors open. But anyway, when I recorded ah, Jackie, I mean it really did get a lot of attention, because now it broadened almost immediately the base of which young white males and females began to get even more interested in rhythm and blues or black music. So that was very interesting to me. And if you'll recall ah, there was long about that time, had been for some time a car called an Oldsmobile, Rocket 88, and didn't we all want one of those. Black and white. And so it... it struck a... a fancy there, but more than anything else, I don't think the subject matter of the song itself was anything like as great as that sound that we got that was so absolutely honest, period. Exclamation point. After that um, I decided that it might be best for me to try to start a record label, because... I didn't want to. Gosh I had my hands full there with what I was trying to do. No money. If you looked at a banker, I mean that banker would want to have you put in the mental institution in Boliver, Tennessee, I mean if you wanted to float a $5 loan. You into music? What kind of music business? The music business, forget it. I mean you know. Well, that's understandable... you know. So we had to survive and wanted to survive. And that is some more of the elements of, that we talked about earlier that made this... the creative juices and desire flow from me to the people that came in there. And you know what I did? I made sure every artist that came in that studio from Roscoe Gordon, BB King, to Howling Wolf later on, little Junior Parker and Mr. Train, "Love My Baby," to the Prisonaires, with "Just Walking in the Rain." Do you know, wait a minute -- without the inspiration and the ability to communicate that certain element of "acceptable psychology," and the freedom of spirit and you couldn't put on -- you can't fool sensitive people, especially black folks, you can't fool them. And I knew that. I was born and raised with them. So there is nobody on the face of God's earth, don't tell me you're cutting that thing off -- have you done it? Damn.
I think basically the ah, thing that I wanted to do most for music, blues music, rhythm and blues, race music, spiritual gospel, black gospel, white quartet, southern gospel, I guess in the flow of all of that, I must have been unconsciously but consciously looking for a way to broaden the base of acceptance of music by white folks by black artists. And ah, the elements of the music that made up country, southern country music, southern country blues all the way from the days of Jimmy Rodgers, the old singing brakeman, right on down to where we got to where we were talking about the idea of good blues singers like Lightning Hopkins, how could you stage "how could you stage" these people on an acceptable basis until we started eating away at the resistance by society of these things that were so -- being done so beautifully, and so uniquely. And so I guess, and I know, I don't guess anything about it, I know, and I was accused of deserting black artists when I found Elvis Presley. That is a bunch of BS. No uncertain terms about it. I had always thought at that particular time in history and that's exactly what it is and was, that if I could find a white southern boy or girl for that matter, but I mean let's... let's don't make it doubly hard or triply hard or, you know at that particular stage, we just might be able to do at least a few of the things that I knew it would take a long time to do, and had taken a long time. OK, Elvis Presley heard "Mr. Train" and of course, he heard a lot of these rhythm and blues records, man, some of the great ones, I mean some great ones, and he loved them. He loved Hank Snow and ah, what was that damn thing Hank did that was so good. Ah, I mean "Big Eight Wheeler moving down the line at inilin..." "Moving On," "Moving On," I mean he... he loved that. He loved Dean Martin. Music, you know. Music. That should say something. Hell they was... here was Elvis Presley, a Hume's High School Cat. He loved Dean Martin. I mean he literally loved the way Dean Martin sang. He loved the way Clyde McFadder of the Drifters. I mean he said, that man... he said that man is in orbit all the time, he is so good. He said, you know, I'd give anything in the world if I could sing like Clyde McFadder. Ah, he liked... I mean he... what I'm saying is, Elvis Presley had that same type of feel of look what we are missing by some socio-BS out there as you don't listen to this because this is segregation, this is segregation, I mean it was... it was hey, it's... you look back on it, it's hilarious. But it wasn't then. So anyway, with Elvis and what he had felt and seen, and his diversity of mind and spirit and the things he heard in "music," I can just tell you right now I knew when he walked in the door baby, of course I made his record for him, his little personal record that people have heard a lot about, and all of that. And it -- but I said, uh-oh, hey, hey, hey, if anybody can do this, I believe this is the person that can do it. And as totally affected as he was by the studio, Elvis had never been in the studio. Elvis had never made a personal appearance except Humes High School. But I knew that that's where I could have... and after I found out what this guy could do, I put Scotty Moore and Bill Black with him, and even though we didn't get anything for six months, four to six months, after we called Woodshed and going on to Scotty's house or any damn place they could go to to rehearse or not rehearse, but I mean, you know, I mean kick it around, woodshed. So we finally hit it, and you know how we hit it, when they came back in after about the upteenth time, and we were not going to just put a -- I could have cut a pretty record, "pretty," on Elvis Presley from, well, just that's when your heartaches began. I mean if you can outdo Bill Kenney, I mean that ain't too damn bad is it, you know? Well, but... you know, Elvis didn't want that. I didn't want that. It is almost ironic, even with a background so similar for Elvis and me to an unbelievable extent, feel the necessity to kick walls down and everything else and sing, pick and sing and do -- make some noise that satisfied the soul. And don't over endow it with a bunch of people in the studio, sing it. Get a little rhythm going. That's what it's all about, and that's what I knew it was all about. And so there's no question in my mind that this was another thing that through him hearing what we were doing at 706 Union, Memphis Recording Service, Sun Records, later on, that it brought him to the feeling that if I can just get up enough courage, and that's when he wouldn't -- I mean this guy would not come in the studio and ask me to audition him for nothing. Now people don't believe that. That is a fact. And we absolutely wanted people to come in and audition. And but he finally made up this who shot John story about making a record for his mother. I think he did but her birthday done passed a long time before that. But anyway, he came to the studio. Let me tell you something, gentlemen, and ladies, the spiritual amalgamation of Elvis Presley, Sam Philips, at that particular time and with those particular... particular elements that flowed one to another is what changed the history of music. I don't give a damn about any credit. Who cares about that. We got it done. It takes nothing away from all the people. All I want to do -- when they're accusing me of saying, wait, you've got a white boy singing and you deserted all your black artists? You know what I told them, I says, none of your business in the first place. The second place is there are people making black records as good or better than the ones I've made, you know. And making them real good.

Also all of the black artists that you were really working with they moved north at a certain point just along with all that big migration. I mean you lost those artists like …?
Well, actually, I lost them because there wasn't the greatest ethics in the world and I don't want to put anybody personally down, but there wasn't ethics like I grew up -- hell, I... I... I... I'm, man, I'm... you know, man, I got more faults than most people you run into, but being dishonest and a liar and a damn thief ain't one of them, or ain't any of them. But anyway, I... these... these people were made, once you would discover them and then somebody from an... an independent label -- you keep in mind, the major labels didn't want to have anything to do -- we were just a gnat on an elephant. I mean we were going to go away and this sort of thing. But the whole thing boiled down basically to the fact that ah, you can dangle this carrot here and boy, they take off. I didn't have the money to keep all these people in this sort of thing. So we had a lot of things to overcome. But hey, if I had of thought for one minute it wasn't going to be worth it I tell you what I would have done. I would have stopped. But I never would have not tried, because I never would have been satisfied in my soul that what I felt for whatever the reasons was or were…