Charles Ray “Gypsy” Mitchell was born in Dallas, TX in 1952. At the age of 17, he formed the innovative gospel funk group The Relatives with Rev. Gean West and Tommie West, co-writing, arranging, and playing guitar on their first two singles: “Speak to Me” b/w "Walking On" (Lewis Records) and “Don’t Let Me Fall” b/w "Rap On" (Hosanna Records), compiled and reissued on the 2009 Heavy Light release Don’t Let Me Fall.
A self-taught musician, Gypsy's unique guitar sound can be attributed to an open tuning, effects pedals, and a singular synthesis of the styles of his greatest heroes: Wes Montgomery, Jimi Hendrix and Cal Valentine. He worked as a sideman for Buddy Ace for several years in the mid-80s, and at venues like the historic Longhorn Ballroom in Dallas, shared the stage with Joe Simon, Johnnie Taylor and Little Milton.
In 2021, after being visited by the late Rev. Gean West in a dream, he was inspired to share a lifetime of original compositions with the Austin-based production team of Zach Ernst and Matthew Strmiska (founding members of Black Joe Lewis & the Honeybears), both of whom worked with Gypsy on contemporary Relatives recordings in the mid 2010s.
What are you doing sitting? You’re a Gypsy, should be moving down the highway…
My brother Ron Mitchell and I had a gig in Los Angeles in 1973 with our group Mitchell Brothers Sound (Ron had been the percussion player in The Relatives). Jimmy Hughes (“Steal Away”) was performing on the show as well. The next morning, Jimmy came to my hotel room and said, "Get up and come with me," and he took me over to Hollywood Boulevard and Western. There was a Gypsy lady there, a palm reader. When she read my palm, she took my hands and started crying. She told me, "Your name is not Charles, your name is Gypsy."
My uncle Hearn, I know you don’t know him / Gave me my first guitar he’s the chosen one…
Uncle Hearn was my dad's brother. He used to sell fruit on a truck, and I would ride with him to work when I was about five years old. One particular day, we went to South Dallas, and ended up hanging out under a tree with some other guys. He started playing guitar, and kept me out all day with them.
I was knocked out, and when he took me home he saw me looking at him in amazement. He asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?" Uncle Hearn was kind of tough, but I could get along with him. I said, "If something happens to you, can I have your guitar?" He responded, "You wish something would happen to me?" I started crying, and he told me to call his wife Aunt Mae to the room. He told Aunt Mae, "This boy said if something happens to me, he wants my guitar."
Years later, I was back in Longview and had forgotten all about this conversation. One Sunday morning, I went into the bedroom and saw Uncle Hearn’s spirit sitting on the bed. He asked, "Hey boy, you still want that guitar?" I exclaimed, "Uncle Hearn!" He replied, "Do you still want that guitar? Go tell your dad."
I found my dad outside and told him what he said. My dad got upset, scolded me, and said, "Stop lying, your Uncle Hearn is dead."
I went back to the bedroom, and Uncle Hearn's spirit said, "Tell your dad what I'm wearing.” I found Dad again, and told him that I saw Hearn's spirit and he was wearing a plaid yellow and black shirt and khakis. When I said this, he fell to his knees crying, because that’s exactly what Hearn was wearing when he was killed. He knew it was true.
Thirteen years old, I had a sweat…
It started one morning in Longview when I was thirteen, near Mr. Jesse's house, whose grass I used to cut. His voice triggered something in me right there. I could hear everything he would say before he said it, I could see how everybody would move before they did it, my hand to God. This lasted for three weeks. I broke out in a sweat, I couldn't sleep, and heard voices going back and forth every night.
At the end of the third week, my Auntie Mamie came to town. She came in my room at five in the morning, and told me to bring her luggage to the trunk of her car, because they were heading back to Dallas. I packed the suitcases and jumped in myself with my guitar. I was afraid of the dark, so I put some rocks in the latch to catch the door so it wouldn’t lock, and attached a string so I could look out the back. As soon as we got to Dallas, I started my career in music.
Sometimes you gotta get up and do what you gotta do…
"Movin’ (Down the Highway)" was born when my brother Ron and I left The Relatives. I bought a 1972 Good Times van, and we hit the road with our small band, Mitchell Brothers Sound. We even recorded "Movin’" at that time, but it was never released, and we didn't pursue it.
In 2014, I met Zach and Matt who were playing with The Relatives, after their reunion and comeback album. Reverend Gean asked me to rejoin the group to finish the band’s new album. I realized later it was because he was getting sick, and he knew I could help get the record over the finish line. He passed away in 2015, and we kept the group going for another year or so, then we drifted apart.
In 2020, I went to a studio and recorded a new song for myself. It was the first time I had done that in quite a few years, but then COVID hit. I was hesitant to send it to Zach, but Gean visited me in a dream and insisted I do it. Zach liked it, and told me to send him more.
It was at that time, sitting at the house in Dallas, stuck with nowhere to go and nowhere to play, that memories of this song from fifty years ago came back. The lyrics came together after our conversation, when Zach encouraged me to keep sending him songs, and the process of starting our new band was born. I remembered my first guitar, my aunt, the trunk…all the verses fell into place.
- Charles Ray “Gypsy” Mitchell, August 18, 2023, Dallas, TX
Gyspy Mitchell © Salihah Saadiq
