Kid Thomas

One of about half a dozen extant photos.

He was born Louis Thomas Watts, June 20, 1934 in Sturgis, Mississippi. Known as Tommy Lewis or Louis, he is perhaps most well-known as Kid Thomas. At age seven, his parents Virgie and VT moved the family north to Chicago as part of the Black exodus now recognized as the Second Great Migration. His first instrument had been the drums. Perhaps in an early sign of his ambitious nature he recognized the futility of trying to lead from the back, so he took harmonica lessons from bluesman Little Willie Smith in exchange for drum lessons.

During the 40's and 50's he found employment blowing harp for the likes of Elmore James, Muddy Waters, Bo Diddley and other regulars of the Chicago blues scene. On occasion he would fill in for Little Walter when the latter found himself unable to stumble away from the bar—Not to knock the Kid, but an audience that came to hear Little Walter could certainly notice the difference.

Eager to lay down a record to promote his gigs, Kid Thomas took the direct approach: He walked into the first record label office he came across, King-Federal, and told then he'd like to make a record. Luckily for him, King-Federal was receptive and told him to come back with a band. Thomas quickly assembled an ad hoc crew for the audition. In his only known interview, conducted by Daryl Stoper in 14 years after the session, Kid Thomas recalled:

"The first few numbers didn't go over, so I starting thinking about the (Howlin') Wolf, and I came up with 'Wolf Pack.' And 'The Spell' I got from Screamin' Jay Hawkins. Both of them were thought up on the spur of the moment."

The producers were pleased with the two improvised numbers best and released them as a single.

Though now armed with a record, the Kid was still not having much luck scaring up new gigs in Chicago. Some new-found acquaintances from Kansas happened to sit in on a rehearsal and were impressed enough to book him a gig in Wichita. Kid Thomas jumped at the chance, even though he had no means of getting himself and his band to Wichita. Ever-resourceful, Thomas "borrowed" a Buick from a local minister in the wee hours of the morning of the trip. As (bad) luck would have it, as soon as they reached Wichita, the band split up—and then split on the Kid—with the minister's car. Thomas would recall:

"When I got back the minister asked me what happened to his car. I told him I didn't have any idea. He told me 'That's funny, 'cause it disappeared the same night you did.'"

Something like this, only crappier.

Undeterred, Kid Thomas managed to cobble together another band and (one would assume legally?) acquire a 1947 DeSoto POS for another trip to Wichita. Wanting to make the beat-up wagon appear like a respectable band's transport, the Kid painted his name all over the car, spelling it "Kid Thmas." The car was very popular with the crowd, who wanted to see this "Kid Thumb-Ass."

Pompadour Paragon:
Esquerita

Kid Thomas found Wichita more to his liking. He hooked-up with a fellow Chicago ex-pat, six-fingered guitarist Hound Dog Taylor for a few gigs in 1956. '56 was about to bring changes in the bigger pop-music world as well. Rock and Roll broke through to mainstream (read) white audiences with seminal records released by Elvis, Fats Domino, Chuck Berry, Gene Vincent, Carl Perkins, The Platters and Little Richard. It was Richard, who would have the biggest influence on Kid Thomas. Thomas piled his towering coiffure beyond the altitude of Little Richard's, approaching what professionals call the "Esquerita-sphere."

Aside from the Murray's Superior Pomade® fixation and a growing collection of sparkly suits, the Kid's musical style's also expanded. He never quit the slower, howling, blues he learned in Chicago, but he also made more uptempo, shuffling numbers. By 1960, he had made his way west to LA, and was in the studio again. It was there he recorded one of the most unhinged, uncommon and ultimately, unfairly unsung records of Rock and Roll, the incomparable "Rockin' This Joint To-Nite". Ahead of his time, Thomas recorded with a two guitar and drummer band. This "bass-will-only-slow-us-down" set-up became the blueprint for punk blues bands of 30 years later like The Gories, John Spencer Blues Explosion, The Oblivians and others. He pushed Little Walter's distorted harmonica style to it's volume-needle-in-the-red-limits. Thomas abandoned any stab at finesse, sucking and blowing like a haywire Hoover. Sadly, the label folded before any promotion could be organized and it would take Kid Thomas five more years to return to the studio. He recorded two more singles in 1965, including one more shot at a frenzied, Little-Richard-esque sound, the blues-cum rock "Wail Baby Wail", which failed to make a blip on the charts. One more recording session would follow in the late sixties—and one more label would fold before it could support the record.

Like any nth-tier blues-blower, the Kid needed a day job, and he earned his scratch mowing lawns. On September 3, 1969 Kid Thomas was driving the company van on South Doheny Drive in Beverly Hills when he struck and killed a 10-year-old boy on a bicycle. Thomas claimed the boy swerved, and the accident was unavoidable. Without enough evidence for manslaughter, the police could only nab Thomas for the four fraudulent driver's licenses he was carrying. On April 5, 1970, Kid Thomas appeared in court, and so did the boy's father. After a brief discussion in the parking lot, the father pulled out a 9mm handgun and shot Thomas at point-blank range. Wounded, Thomas ran toward the nearby police station while the gunman kept firing, injuring a police officer. Police returned fire, but the father gave himself up when Kid Thomas, 35, fell dead on the curb.