The Man Behind the Music: “Gatemouth belonged to the world, but he came home to us”

Published 4:33 pm Friday, July 25, 2025

Before he was known for melting genres and defying musical labels, Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown was simply a son, a brother, a father and an uncle- a man whose legacy was shaped as much by the family who stood behind him as by the notes he played. While the world remembers him for his fierce independence and virtuosic blend of Blues, Jazz, Country and Cajun music, on the day of his new headstone unveiling, his family remembered something deeper: the man behind the guitar.

On a hot, summer morning, 20 years after his passing, they gathered- family, friends, fans and members of the local press- all standing in reverent silence as the velvet purple veil was lifted from Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown’s third headstone on July 23, 2025. It wasn’t just a marker of where he rested, but a symbol of everything he stood for: rebellion, tradition, and unshakable pride in his roots. Around them, the hum of shared memory buzzed in the air- stories of his humor, his fire, his music, echoing softly between the voices of those who loved him.

         This moment, solemn, joyful and deeply human, wasn’t just about honoring a legend, it was about reclaiming the man beneath the myth. And for the family who have loved, raised, supported and survived him, it was a long homecoming overdue.

         “I was reading a lot of articles after he passed away, just trying to create some sense of closeness, to him, and something stuck out,” Renee Brown, Gatemouth’s daughter, said. “”Living with the ones you love keeps you young,” and that highlighted our family-centric life. I had an adventurous childhood. We traveled a lot, we toured all over the world with him.”

Brown said she didn’t experience an average childhood.

“We were always seeing a different place and meeting new people.,” she said. “But as far as growing up with a famous dad, it wasn’t really anything that I noticed. I mean, I knew my dad was talented, I knew people admired him, but first and foremost, he was just an amazing father. No matter how far he was, even if we weren’t together, he never let me forget that he was there for us.”

         As the music faded, his life lessons continued to guide her, woven into the rhythm of her life. And the quiet moments, and the hard choices, and the way she walks through the world, her father’s voice still echoes. His strength, his stubbornness, his fire- they carry her through.       

         “He taught me to be honest,” she said. “He taught me to treat people with respect. He, didn’t like it when people were too boastful, especially when it came to celebrities. Those who knew him, who were fortunate enough to be friends with him, knew the way he was on stage was the way he was at home and in-person. He was just a down-to-earth person. So, he taught me to be down-to-earth, but he also taught me to be tough and resilient. So, I think I get my strength and resilience from my dad for sure.”

         However, long before the spotlight found him, Gatemouth shared something even more sacred than fame, a stage with his brothers, Bobby and James Brown.

         “They used to perform across the bridge (in Louisiana) in this place called Lou Anns,” Brenda Brown, Bobby’s daughter, said. “Uncle James was a guitarist, and my daddy played the drums and sang when they first started out. They traveled together for a while because they own some of the albums that he cut back in the day.”

         The brothers made it into Roger Wood’s book called, “Down in Houston: Bayou City Blues,” published in 2003 by the University of Texas Press.

         “The book highlights how both of my uncles and my dad influenced some of the musicians that came out of Houston with the instruments that they play,” she said. “However, when I was growing up, my uncle Gatemouth was something of a myth to me. I was 18 years-old when he came back from his travels and broke that myth.  He was just like everybody else in my family. You see what I’m saying, he wasn’t like a movie star. No, I never considered him as famous. He was just Uncle Clarence.”

         Over time, it was laughter that stitched their bond together- shared jokes, playful teasing and inside stories transforming their relationship into one of warmth and easy affection.

“As I got to know him, and we grew close, he would call me just to tell me jokes,” she recalls. “He called me one time to ask me, “Why don’t y’all bring me one of those cars?” I said, “I ain’t got no car.” When I knew he was lying. He had a car, but he’s just telling us we didn’t have one car. “So, how we gonna bring you a car?” He just laughed. One day we went out to eat, and he gonna tell the lady he ain’t got no money. Did she have some dishes for him to wash? Why did you order all this this food if you ain’t got no money? That’s how he was, always down for a joke.”

However, on his travels, he never forgot to let Brenda know he was thinking about her too.

“One time he was going to China,” she said. “And I asked him to bring me something back, because he brought some kimonos one time for my grandmother and my auntie. He said, “Baby, that stuff is high over there.” but I said, “Well, you can send me a postcard or anything.” And to my surprise, he sent me a postcard in the mail. I was shocked. He wrote in his own hand, wrote me a postcard and sent it on like, wow. He remembered.”