Blues musician says Native Americans have ‘always had the blues’

His brother, like most everyone else at the time, was a huge fan of The Beatles and introduced a young Tracy Lee Nelson to the band and their music. His early music days were filled with playing punk rock. That is, until he heard the blues.

He remembers being in fifth grade, living in Los Angeles, and a teacher asking whether any students were Native American. Nelson raised his hand, and his friends were surprised. They had assumed he was Latino because of his skin tone, and then the kids began asking him stereotypical questions about whether he lived in a teepee or on a reservation, remarking about how good his English was.

“As I grew up, I was thinking about the blues, and I remember B.B. King saying that you’ve got to speak the truth. I was thinking, the blues is the way I’m going to go, so I started leaning toward the blues. I started thinking more about our history as Native Americans and thinking, ‘Well, ever since our discovery of Christopher Columbus, we’ve always had the blues,’” he says. “I started thinking and writing more songs pertaining to what happened to us and what we’re still going through because I know people think the Indian is gone, in the past; we’re not. What we’re going through now, it’s just in a different form, so that kind of went into music. My first CD was in 1994 and I called it “500 Years of the Blues.” It all goes back to the beginning, 1492 and our discovery of Christopher Columbus, and the blues and what we’re going through now. Most of the CDs I’ve done, are about the exploitation of Native Americans.”

A member of the Luiseno on his father’s side, and the Kumeyaay/Digueno on his mother’s, Nelson previously served two terms as tribal chairman on the La Jolla Indian Reservation, and is an award-winning musician who’s been recognized by the Native American Music Awards, the Indigenous Music Awards, the Josie Music Awards, and played during the 1996 Super Bowl with the hit band Redbone (“Come and Get Your Love”). He’s performing this year at the annual Valley Arts Festival. Originally held in 2019 as the Mission District Arts Festival, Studio ACE (Arts, Community, Education), which provides arts education and activities to Oceanside schools and the community, refocused the festival as an annual celebration of the San Luis Rey Band of Mission Indians, of Payómkawichum. A portion of the proceeds each year goes to the San Luis Rey Mission Indian Foundation for enrichment programs, including their annual powwow. This year’s festival — “Spirit of Valley: Kíicha Nights, Coyote Dreams” — is from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday at Heritage Park (220 Peyri Drive in Oceanside).

Nelson, 61, lives on the La Jolla Reservation of the La Jolla Band of Luiseno Indians in North County with his son, Blake Redwolf Nelson, and took some time to talk about his music and using his art to raise awareness about his people, their culture, and the social and political issues they face.

Q: The Valley Arts Festival is an annual celebration of the Payómkawichum people and culture. When you were first participating in the festival five years ago, what was your impression at the time?

A: Oh, I thought it was great because it opened up a whole new a new audience. The first time I did it, I thought it was just beautiful, just the positive energy that was around and what we were sharing with the public. They were so interested in knowing more about us as Natives here in Southern California, and our ways and our languages and our culture and our beliefs, which is really something. I was really flabbergasted.

Q: Why did that surprise you, that people demonstrated that kind of interest?

A: When I was younger, growing up in L.A., we have all cultures out there. I remember being in fifth grade and everybody thought I was Spanish or Mexican because I’m dark. I was sitting with my friends, and then the teacher said they were doing a census on any American Indians here, and I raised my hand. All my friends looked at me weird and said, “Oh, you’re Indian, you’re Native. Oh, that’s why your English is so clear.” Then, of course, when we went out to recess, everybody was coming around me and saying, “So, do you live in teepees? Do you live on a reservation?” I go, “I live in the city right now, but my reservation is in San Diego County.” It was really interesting that I was thought of as something else. So, when I started doing the Valley Art Festival, it was really interesting to see other people still interested because a lot of people think of us as a thing of the past, that Natives were in the books and stuff. They think we’re all pretty much gone, we’ve vanished. That’s what made me really happy just to be a part of the arts festival.

What I love about La Jolla Indian Reservation…

I love it here because, ever since I was little, whenever we come and visit our family here, I could sleep a lot. It’s just so comforting to have family around and friends here and no more traffic or smog, like in L.A. I love the cleanliness here and being with Mother Earth because I think of this as my church — the mountains around me and touching Mother Earth and Father Sky. I definitely feel honored to be here. 

Q: How did you get started playing music?

A: My brother, Carl, had introduced me to records back then, around 13 or 14. He was a big Beatles fan, so he had a bunch of Beatles records and stuff. I just was really turned on to that and it made me want to become like Paul McCartney, and I wanted to play an instrument. I lived in North Hollywood at that time — we had moved from the reservation to the city — and a neighbor of mine who was young, too, he loved music and he actually had a job. So, he went and bought a guitar, and as time went on, he said, “Hey, let’s play together. I’m going to get another guitar.” He bought another guitar and gave me one of his, and that’s what started me playing and figuring out guitar. I was thinking that there’s only six strings there, so it can’t be too hard, but it became pretty difficult. I just learned by watching people playing music and developed guitar playing in that way, learning scales and augmented diminished scales, and just learning more about music. We played punk rock music back then, in the ’80s, and then went into playing all over — Whiskey a Go Go and all that. It was really a good music scene at that time, in the punk rock days. It was really cool because I grew up and started working for the motion picture industry, and then became an actor, and then started playing music. My roommate at that time was DH Peligro, the drummer for a punk rock band called The Dead Kennedys (he was also a drummer for the Red Hot Chili Peppers). We were always traveling and going throughout Hollywood and checking out gigs and playing with bands. That was really cool.

Q: What do you recall of your initial impression of what you were hearing in blues music, and who were some of the artists you were initially introduced to?

A: I fell in love with Robert Johnson, and his guitar ability was just beyond, to me because he did a lot of finger picking on just an acoustic guitar, but he made it sound like three other guitar players. Then, he was singing at the same time. Of course, B.B. King. I was honored because, years later, I met BB King and I shared with him that I had developed a band called Native Blues, with “500 Years of the Blues,” and he liked it. Before he passed on, he was here performing and I was able to meet him backstage. We spoke a little bit and he says, “Tracy, you keep your music going and they’re gonna listen.” He was such an inspiration. I actually have his signature on my guitar, too. As time went on, I met other people, too. Five years ago, I got a call from Leon Hendrix, Jimi Hendrix’s brother, and he called me and wanted me to play. I said sure, of course.

Q: What is it about the blues that has continued to hold your interest over the years?

A: Where it started was, I started thinking about a situation took place when I lived out there in North Hollywood. I used to go to Auditory Odyssey to get movies and watch movies. It was late and I drove to Auditory Odyssey, and as I was walking toward the building, there was a homeless person outside. I walked by and he said, “Hey, you got a quarter? You got a nickel or something?” I go, “Oh, no, I’m sorry. I don’t have any change or anything.” And then he says, “Well, do you have 50 cents or something?” I go, “No, I’m sorry, man. I’m just using a credit card.” As I was opening the door to the building, he screamed out and said, “You damn foreigner! Go back to your own country!” And I thought to myself, ‘Man, he has no respect,’ and that’s when I came up with a band called Native Blues. That just stays in my head about what people think, and how they think, and how rude it is that they even say that not knowing a person’s culture.

In 1996, I came across a place in Billings, Mont. Me and my wife at the time-Jackie Old Coyote from Crow Indian Reservation-was an actress in Hollywood. We went to a restaurant where I wanted to get a really good steak. I could not believe it, but outside they had a sign that said, “We Do Not Serve Native Americans.” I was so angry. That’s what got me thinking even more that I’ve got to share a Native perspective, a twist to the blues of what we’re going through, too. I really love the blues, all the great players and people I’ve met.

Q: How would you say your culture and upbringing have influenced your approach to music, and to the blues, specifically?

A: I learned more when I was living in L.A. I’d see these stores, like in Burbank there was one called The Vanishing Indian, and I’m like, ‘Wow, that’s not cool.’ So, just learning more about the point of view of the public, and then being influenced by a Navajo guy who got me into powwows where I started singing with them. That’s more of a plains-style Native songs and dances, but that got me thinking about and focusing on California Natives. Then, I started learning and looking into more about the San Luis Rey Band of Mission Indians, and why we were called San Luis Rey, and the history of what went on here, as a California Native. Coming back and forth with my mom, we always came back to the Mesa Grande Reservation. Later on, I started coming to the La Jolla Indian Reservation. I was brought up with my stepfather when I was little, and then found out my real dad was on the reservation in La Jolla. I started learning more and looking into our culture, our ways, more of our music, our beliefs, our songs. I believe that our songs are, somewhat, like the blues, too.

Q: Your song “Khadijah” was nominated for best country song at the 2019 Josie Music Awards for bringing awareness to the MMIW (Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women) crisis. Can you talk a bit about the story of “Khadijah”? Your process for writing and recording it, and why it was important to you to use your music to share this story?

A: It was brought to my attention when I was younger that my mother, Martha Duro/Mata Weer, went to Sherman Indian School in Riverside. She shared with me that she was a part of that residential school out there at that time, and the school wasn’t very good. She was really mistreated and hit with a paddle; it was really hard to hear. I know other stuff happened, but I could tell she didn’t want to go any further than that. So, I heard about that when I was younger, in the ’70s. With “Khadija,” I was contacted by her mother and grandpa in 2018. They’d heard that I was on my way to get an award in New York City through the Native American Music Awards, and they wanted me to help bring awareness to what went on with their daughter and granddaughter, Khadija Britton (witnesses say she was last seen on Feb. 8, 2018, being forced into a car at gunpoint by her ex-boyfriend). I said to send me flyers and I could take them out there and pass them out, but they didn’t get to me in time. When I came back, it was sad because there were t-shirts and stickers and bracelets; I felt really bad, so I called them and said I’d pass it around and bring awareness to Khadija amongst all our tribes in California, and try to do it in the other states where I travel. Then, I thought if I get their OK, because I’m a musician, I would like to bring awareness to this tragedy, but through music, and hopefully get other musicians to write songs about this so we can get the word out. I wrote it in a couple days and sent it to her, and they just loved it. Ever since, everywhere I go, I play it because I have got to bring awareness to what’s going on, to what happened to Khadijah. She’s from the Round Valley Indian Reservation up there in Northern California.

This is going on all over. It’s just an epidemic and it’s crazy. It’s just terrible. So, that’s what prompted me to compose a song for Khadijah, and I’m just happy that they like it. It is being played on other radio stations here on the reservation and back east and Arizona, and I think it’s helping. Every week, I come across something about what’s going on in Indian Country and what we’re up against, what the other tribes are up against, and we try to just get together and bring awareness to what’s going on-the breaking of treaties, invading sacred lands-it’s really something that still continues.

Q: November is Native American Heritage Month. What are some ways that it’s important to you to celebrate the culture and history of your people and the land where you live?

A: Especially because I got my foot in the door with music, I try to advertise as much as I can and do as many shows as I can because in every event that I do, it has something to do with the Native festivals and organizations. I try to tap into that, constantly, with my music. To keep getting the word out there, mainly that we are still here; we still exist here, we’re just pushed to the side on what I consider is our concentration camp here, on reservations. It’s interesting how this took place, but we adapted to the environment. I’m just thankful because I’m also a tribal monitor here, so I’m constantly out walking the mountains, looking for artifacts and sites. Whenever I come across something, I’m just in awe that they survived this kind of territory, what we were up against. If they didn’t survive, we wouldn’t be here. I’m just honored and privileged that I’m alive, that we can still walk and live.

Q: What do you hope people learn/experience from you and your performance at this year’s festival?

A: I always try to bring awareness. My guitar is painted red, I have a Khadijah sticker on it. My drum, it’s a single drum and it’s orange and it has the number 215 on it. It’s for the 215 children that were found at the residential schools in Canada; it’s actually over 10,000 bodies now. So, I try to bring awareness to it to everybody, in every way, through my music or what I wear. Hopefully, people look into it and spread the word and get it out there. We need to because, for every culture, people disappearing is sickening, it’s just heartbreaking to me because I have a son and a grandson, and I would just be devastated. I’ve seen the videos from the other countries and the kids starving, and it’s like, what can we do? How do we fix this? I’m sad that my son has to go through a life like this. So, I’m just going to continue composing songs, and hopefully somebody will be interested in hearing my songs and my point of view of the blues and what we’ve been going through. I just keep putting it out there and performing. I love music, and when I see somebody dancing, or they’re singing songs, it just brings me to a higher spiritual level. It’s my way to release anger and bad feelings.

Q: What is the best advice you’ve ever received?

A: When B.B. King said, “Tracy, you keep playing your music, and they will listen and come.” That always sticks in my head now, something like that coming from a legend like that.

Q: What is one thing people would be surprised to find out about you?

A: I never drank beer, I never took drugs. I tried pot when I was 16, spit it out, and I’ve never drank even champagne. I always say the closest I can get to beer, is my root beer. Years ago, there was a place in L.A. called the Blue Saloon, out there by Universal. I playing pool with my friends, and some guy came over said, “Hey, you’re Native American. Let me buy you a beer,” and I said, “Oh, no, that’s OK.” Then he said, “Come on, you’re Native.” That’s exactly why I don’t, because people think we are all in that way with your fire water. I don’t do that. I always wanted to be different. My father always said to be a leader, not a follower. I’ve always stuck with that and never drank.

Q: Please describe your ideal San Diego weekend.

A: I think just performing in San Diego, anywhere, and meeting new people. Then, the beauty of La Jolla Shores and walking down the beach with my girlfriend. Walking around, the vibe is so positive to me. Just being close and touching Mother Earth when you walk in the sand, all that positive energy coming from Mother Earth, stepping into the water—that’s real power because it’s positive energy that fills your body, and that’s what I really love. Knowing other people are really loving it, too, is really something.