Like many guitarists, my introduction to Stevie Ray Vaughan’s “Mary Had a Little Lamb” was a bit of a delayed discovery. Back in 1983, amidst a teenage obsession with collecting Beatles records, albums like Texas Flood seemed to fly under my radar. It wasn’t until later that I truly appreciated the raw power and inventiveness of Vaughan’s playing, including his quirky take on a children’s classic. His “Mary Had a Little Lamb” is a standout track: a fun, unexpected blues romp nestled within an otherwise fiery album. It’s a clever concept, letting Vaughan showcase a cool, almost crooning vocal style against the backdrop of a seriously rocking blues arrangement. The song itself is structured around a catchy eight-bar verse that twists and turns in a funky way, punctuated by twelve-bar instrumental choruses. These choruses are pure SRV fire, packed with low-end, Muddy Waters-inspired riffs that are instantly recognizable and incredibly fun to play on guitar.
But as much as Vaughan made the song his own, the story of this bluesy nursery rhyme riff goes deeper. Stevie Ray Vaughan’s version, iconic as it is, wasn’t born in a vacuum. He openly acknowledged his influences, and in the case of “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” his arrangement is strikingly similar – some might say a direct lift – from Buddy Guy’s rendition. Guy recorded his version for his solo debut album on Vanguard, the critically acclaimed A Man And The Blues. There’s no sense of plagiarism here; it’s clearly an homage, a tip of the hat from one guitar legend to another. In fact, Vaughan’s choice to include such a lighthearted, almost tongue-in-cheek track on his debut album, amidst the serious blues firepower, speaks volumes about his musical personality. While it’s tempting to speculate that he picked it primarily for the sheer fun of playing the guitar part, it was a brilliant move on multiple levels. Interestingly, Vaughan also consciously diverged from Guy’s vocal approach. Where Buddy Guy belts out the lyrics with impassioned, falsetto-infused vocals, Vaughan opts for a more understated, almost nonchalant delivery – a smart way to carve out his own space within the song.
Buddy Guy’s original recording of “Mary Had a Little Lamb” is a masterclass in Chicago blues. It features a full band, complete with horns, and a stellar Chicago rhythm section anchored by the legendary Fred Below on drums, the incomparable Otis Spann on piano, and the seasoned session guitarist Wayne Bennet on rhythm guitar. Bennet, notably, also played on Bobby “Blue” Bland’s iconic, Allman Brothers-inspiring version of “Stormy Monday.” On A Man And The Blues, Guy, finally given free rein in the studio, unleashes his signature glassy guitar tone with a powerful yet controlled intensity. His solos are models of economy and phrasing, and his vocals on the album, including “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” possess a similar sense of barely contained energy and clarity. The album itself is a deep dive into the blues, featuring covers like B.B. King’s signature “Sweet Little Angel,” alongside achingly slow blues and even improvisational jams like the aptly titled “Jam on a Monday Morning,” which transcends its throwaway title thanks to the band’s sheer virtuosity.
But the lineage of this “Mary Had A Little Lamb Guitar” arrangement doesn’t stop with Buddy Guy. As any serious blues aficionado knows, the roots often run deeper. In 1961, Freddie King, another titan of the blues guitar, released the first of his two instrumental albums, Let’s Hide Away and Dance Away With Freddy King. Buried within this collection of inventive and influential instrumentals is a track titled “Just Pickin’.” And “Just Pickin’,” remarkably, sounds almost identical to Buddy Guy’s “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” albeit without the vocals. In fact, the instrumental sections are virtually indistinguishable. Give it a listen, and the connection is undeniable.
This discovery raises some intriguing questions. Is it possible that Buddy Guy consciously borrowed from Freddie King’s “Just Pickin’,” adding the nursery rhyme lyrics as a playful element for his live shows, which then made its way onto his Vanguard album? Or perhaps, through the shared language of blues music, and years of hearing and performing King’s tune, the core riff of “Just Pickin'” became so ingrained in Guy’s musical vocabulary that it emerged organically when he was developing the arrangement for “Mary Had a Little Lamb”? It’s conceivable that while seeking a familiar 12-bar blues structure to contrast with the 8-bar vocal section, Guy unconsciously drew upon the familiar contours of King’s song.
The plot thickens further when we consider Earl Hooker, a guitarist’s guitarist, revered by Chicago blues players. Hooker, known for his dazzling slide guitar work and extensive catalog of both vocal and instrumental recordings, was a prolific figure in the blues scene from the 1950s until his untimely death in the 1970s. In 1969, Hooker recorded an instrumental track that shares the same groove as King’s “Just Pickin’” and Guy’s “Mary Had a Little Lamb.” Remarkably, Hooker’s track, released after both King and Guy’s versions, bears no title referencing either of the other tunes. This raises the possibility that the musical idea predates both King and Guy, and was perhaps a common riff circulating within the Chicago blues scene.
So, is this “Mary Had a Little Lamb guitar” riff simply “something that was in the air,” a shared musical phrase that various blues artists independently gravitated towards, much like the ubiquitous blues shuffle? Could both Freddie King and Buddy Guy have, consciously or unconsciously, drawn their arrangements from the perhaps lesser-known Earl Hooker? The precise origins remain somewhat murky, highlighting the often-interconnected and evolving nature of musical ideas, particularly within a rich tradition like the blues. The journey from Stevie Ray Vaughan’s electrifying rendition back through Buddy Guy and Freddie King, and potentially even further to Earl Hooker, reveals a fascinating genealogy for this seemingly simple nursery rhyme riff. It’s a testament to the deep roots and shared vocabulary of the blues, where musical ideas are constantly reinterpreted, reimagined, and passed down through generations of players. If you have further insights into the true origins of this bluesy riff, we’d love to hear from you in the comments below!
