![Buddy Guy: Muddy Waters Insisted I Call Him "Daddy"]](https://backingtracksfullcollection.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/12/Buddy-Guy-Muddy-Waters-Insisted-I-Call-Him-Daddy-758x426.jpg "Buddy Guy: Muddy Waters Insisted I Call Him \"Daddy\"] 1")
As living legends go, Buddy Guy is the last man standing. One of Chicago’s pioneering electric guitar–slinging bluesmen, he played in clubs, jammed and just plain hung out with fellow legends like Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, Junior Wells, and B.B. King.
He is a living link to the first generation of Chicago blues players, and he has the stories to go with it, including a tale about meeting Muddy and how the elder blues guitarist took Guy under his wing when he landed in Chicago.
Why did a young player like Guy stand out to an older guitarist like Muddy? As Guy told Guitar Player, he made quite a sensation when he landed in Chicago in 1957. But his act owed nearly everything to what he learned while growing up in the south, in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.
Guitar Slim was a particularly strong influence on Guy, and one of the hottest and most theatrical guitar players in New Orleans in his time. Guy was still a teen when he saw Slim perform, and he was blown away. Slim’s performance was a big part of why he continued on his path to become a guitarist and stage performer.
“He used to have a sort of heavy-set guy,” Guy told Guitar Player, “and he’d play the guitar with this long 150-foot cord, and this guy would pick him up on his shoulders and walk him all through the crowd while he played.
“I was about 14 years old then — goosebumps just jumpin’ all over me! ‘I got to learn how to play a guitar so I can ride somebody’s neck someday with this long cord.’ And I think I wound up getting the long cord before I learned how to play,” he added, with a laugh.
At the age 21, Guy moved to Chicago hoping to find better work and get his music career off the ground. “I had heard so much about Chicago — how I could double the salary I was making. Not as a guitar player, just as a worker. So I went up to Chicago after I had just turned 21.
“But in Chicago in the ’50s, man, if you didn’t know anybody, it was like trying to talk to a herd of cattle. I stayed there until I ran out of money, and I was going to call my mother collect to send me a ticket to go back to Louisiana.
“I had my guitar in one hand and a suit in the other, and this stranger asked me, ‘Can you play?’ I said, ‘Yeah. If you loan me a dime to call my mother, I’ll play for you.’
“He said, ‘I don’t loan nobody no money. I’ll buy you a drink, though.’ I didn’t even drink at the time, but this was the third day without any food. I started to cry, but I said, ‘This isn’t going to help.’ Chicago was too cold to stay out all night, so I figured maybe I’d take a drink from this guy; anything is better in your stomach than nothing at all.
“So he bought me a drink, and after he heard me play a Jimmy Reed and a Guitar Slim, he said, ‘You’re the best I ever heard. I’m gonna take you in where these guitar players are trying to play.’ I’m shy, so I said, ‘I can’t do this.’ He said, ‘Oh yes, you can.’”
After one more drink, Guy found himself transported to the 708 Club on 47th Street, then one of Chicago’s famous blues joints. “Muddy Waters played there, Junior Wells, Howlin’ Wolf, Little Walter,” Guy recalled. On this particular night Otis Rush and his band were onstage.
“The owner was there that night, and I got up and did ‘The Things I Used To Do,’” Guy said. “The owner told the manager, ‘Whoever that is, hire him. Give him $25 a night for three nights a week.’ I was making $30 a week when I left Louisiana.
So I told a big lie. He said, ‘If you got a band, you start work Tuesday.’ I said, ‘I got a band.’ I didn’t even know anybody.”
— Buddy Guy
“So I told a big lie. He said, ‘If you got a band, you start work Tuesday.’ I said, ‘I got a band.’ I didn’t even know anybody.”
Unable to find musicians, Guy decided to face the music.
“I got up enough nerve to go back the next day and tell him, ‘I lied about the band, but I come to play.’ So they found me [drummer] Fred Below and a piano player.
“Anyway, after a couple of days at the 708 Club, Muddy Waters was sitting outside. He said, ‘I heard about you. I come to feed you.’
“It was so funny; he took me in, and I was trying to say no about the food, but he just made me eat a sandwich. He said, ‘Just call me your daddy.’
“We joked around, and from then on I didn’t look around no more. I played at these guitar battles. I had that long cord, and the clubs in Chicago had the bandstand right as high as the bar. I walked out there one night, and there was Dave and Louis Myers, Earl Hooker, Magic Sam and Otis Rush.
“I said, ‘I got a lot to learn. But right now I got a lot to do.’ I wasn’t going to let them outdo me. So I just walked out with this 150-foot cord, and it was snowing, and I just went straight on out the door.
I said, ‘I got a lot to learn. But right now I got a lot to do.’ I wasn’t going to let them outdo me.“
— Buddy Guy
“The next day the news media was there, wanting to know who I was. From then on every guitar player in the city started coming to see me, and so did Junior Wells. That’s how I met Junior. They wouldn’t talk to me at first; had to play my way to make them come and say, ‘Who are you?’
“Then Magic Sam came, and we had a battle of the guitars on a Sunday afternoon at 1:00, and the winner won a b“I said, ‘I got a lot to learn. But right now I got a lot to do.’ I wasn’t going to let them outdo me. So I just walked out with this 150-foot cord, and it was snowing, and I just went straight on out the door. ottle of whiskey. I had these friends, and I said, ‘Just hold that cord. Don’t let nobody snatch it out of the amplifier.’
“And I won.”
