Elliott Small (July 10, 1944 - March 8, 2022) was a street-musician, aka Uncle Remus.
As a young man, Small then made the rounds as a soul singer in local clubs. He recorded singles with arranger Wardell Quezergue, some of which are available on Malaco Records and Tuff City Records compilations of New Orleans funk. In the early '60s, Small's family relocated to New York City, where he took his first steps as a professional entertainer. Small once again played on the streets in between regular gigs, which included a role in a stage revival of Show Boat, helped the Louisiana vocal group The Dixie Cups go up to New York, opened on tour with The Temptations, and cut a few of his own R&B singles. One was entitled "I'm a Devil," and Small promoted the record with live appearances while wearing what some fans remember as a red devil's suit complete with horns and pitchfork. "Well, it wasn't called a devil suit," he said. "It was a pretty, silk red suit, that looked good. It was a nice show." At the time, Small remembers, he was billed as "The Harmonica King." He also recorded his own "Girls Are Made for Lovin'" in 1969, a Wardell Quezergue (“Big Q”) production which has the feel of something by Curtis Mayfield, maybe, or Smokey Robinson. It’s not an identifiably New Orleans record, although it was made there, originally released on the New Sound label and picked up by Bang.
The song "E-Ni-Me-Ni-Mi-Ni-Mo" is a fine funk groove recorded at Sea-Saint Studio in New Orleans, probably in 1975. Small produced the session and co-wrote the song along with Quezergue and guitarist Teddy Royal. According to Rob Bowman's notes to the box set, The Last Soul Company, Small, who had recorded previously for Malaco when Quezergue was working there, brought the master tape to that Jackson, MS studio early in 1976, hoping they could find a company to release it. Instead, they purchased the master and released it themselves. However, nobody went for the funkified children's chant, no matter how danceable it was, and the song sank with hardly a ripple.
By the '80s, Small had become dissatisfied with life in New York, the grueling schedule of performing in local clubs and on the road, and the music business in general. Bad decisions and unfair contracts had soured him on the industry. When the sight in his good eye started to go and everything got fuzzy, he signed away the rights to one of his songs. "It was to a guy I had taken a liking to, a guy I trusted," he said. Small moved back to New Orleans and took his music to the streets, where it would belong only to him and to the passersby who heard it.[5][6]
Small developed the persona of Grandpa Elliott, an old man dressed in blue denim overalls, a bright red shirt, Santa beard, and a floppy hat who played blues harp and sang for the street traffic on his corner at Royal and Toulouse streets in the French Quarter, right where he started out. He often teams with guitarist Michael “Stoney B” Stone and they have become an institution in New Orleans for the people who stop to listen to them and throw change in their bucket. His act was even written up in The New York Times in 1995. He arrives here most mornings by taxi and spends his days singing his soulful songs and playing his harmonica. It's the place where everybody knows his name."When I feel sick, I come out here to feel better," he said. "The French Quarter is my medicine." Small said he doesn’t even know what beer tastes like and he’s never touched drugs and the only thing he smokes is the exhaust from the cars that pass Royal and Toulouse.
His listeners reward him with dollar bills and treasures, like the gold wedding band he wears on his finger. "A lot of people walk around with plastic now instead of cash, so they throw what they can," he said. "Some of the rings I get out of my bucket even have diamonds on them.
