Club Seventeen — Classic

On the night our story begins, the phrase was “Black snake moan.”

Leo slid into a booth. A waitress appeared, her beehive hair impossibly high. “What’ll it be, hon?” club seventeen classic

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a cracked shellac disc, no label, just a groove spiraling toward the center. “This is the master. Blind Willie Jefferson’s ‘Seventeen Nights in Hell.’ The record company burned the others because after they heard it, the engineer cut off his own ears. The producer walked into the Mississippi and never came out.” On the night our story begins, the phrase