Otis Taylor

Clovis People, Vol. 3
Otis Taylor
Telarc

Otis Taylor calls his music “trance blues” and that’s as good a moniker as any. Freed from the 12-bar archetype, Taylor’s sound is sparse, measured, and personal. He leaves pauses where others would throw a cluster of notes; his vocals are weary expressions of emotion, compelling without ever overstating or grandstanding. The opening cut, “Rain so Hard” begins with delicate resonator picking, and builds the mood with subtle trumpet flourishes, almost ambient in presentation. “Little Willie” features some tasty electric guitar playing from Gary Moore (Thin Lizzy, et. al.), who guests on several cuts, and unlike Moore’s other work, he sounds positively restrained here to good effect.

In a time when the blues seems to be languishing between SRV wannabes and tired traditionalists, Otis Taylor has created a unique musical signature, hypnotically capturing a listeners attention, somewhat akin to Kelly Joe Phelps, but even more subtle than that. Once encountered, it cannot be easily dismissed — or forgotten. How often can you say that these days?

Originally published Ink 19, 2010

James Cotton

Baby, Don’t You Tear My Clothes
James Cotton
Telarc

King of the “Mississippi Saxophone,” harpist James Cotton largely defined — along with contemporaries Little Walter and Charlie Musselwhite — just how blues harmonica should sound. From his time with Sonny Boy Williamson’s band to the classic combo with Muddy Waters in the ’60’s, Cotton has always been a steady, exciting performer. Although he no longer sings, he has friends enough to make up for that. Luminaries such as Doc Watson, Bobby Rush, Dave Alvin and the wonderful Marcia Ball add their talents to his new release, and the result is enjoyable. Not as up-tempo and driving as his earlier work, the 13 cuts here give Cotton and his guests room to stretch out and shine. Rory Block’s “Mississippi Blues” is a particular standout, but all of the cuts have much to offer a blues fan looking for “the real stuff.”

Originally published Ink 19, 2004

Kelly Joe Phelps: Slingshot Professionals

Slingshot Professionals
Kelly Joe Phelps
Ryko

With Slingshot Professionals, Kelly Joe Phelps moves away from the blues-based guitar histrionics that marked his earlier records and towards a more sedate, folkie style of presentation. And while the trademark sleepy strangeness of Phelps’s music is still largely intact (lyrically at least), overall, this record doesn’t quite work. His guitar playing is now primarily used as melodic accompaniment, instead of standing alone as a solo voice as in the past. Freed from the restraints of a blues song structure, he ventures into, but never really embraces, that sort of quiet energy that bands such as Willard Grant Conspiracy do so well. But where WGC’s music is unsettling and challenging without electricity, Phelps has sanded away almost all of his charming rough edges and left us with folk as background music. Even the presence of fellow fretman Bill Frisell or keyboardist Chris Gestrin don’t liven things up. While this is by no means a bad record, it is rather dull, and that’s the last thing we expected from Kelly Joe Phelps.

Originally published Ink 19, 2003

Rory Block

Last Fair Deal
Rory Block
Telarc Records

Last real deal, more like it. How Rory Block ever got so damn funky being born in Manhattan we’ll never know (it probably helped that she hit the road in her teens to learn the blues) — but however she got it, she’s got the funk. Between her nimble, driving guitar and heartfelt voice she can move from “Son House (Country Farm Blues)” to “Amazing Grace” and sound compelling on both. In an age where blues artists either stick to one of two paths — slavish recreations of old ’78s or over-amped SRV cloning — Block does neither. Instead, she uses delta blues as her vocabulary, but writes her own stories using the words of old. Last Fair Deal is an assured record that has the blues at its spiritual heart, created in equal measure of love and learning. Pick, sister, pick.

Originally published Ink 19, 2003

Albert King

Talkin’ Blues
Albert King
Thirsty Ear Recordings

It is impossible to overstate the impact and influence that Albert King and his upside down Gibson Flying V — “Lucy” — had on blues guitarists and listeners. Dead a little over a decade now, King’s stinging guitar sound and his willingness to place traditional blues in a soul backing make his music as popular now as ever. His classic Born Under A Bad Sign, recorded with Booker T. and the MG’s on the Stax label, moved King from playing dive bars to the stage of the Fillmore, and brought him the respect and attention of players such as Eric Clapton and later Stevie Ray Vaughn, who considered King his mentor.

This 1978 recording is fine, fine Albert King. Starting with “Bad Sign,” his fluid guitar, gruff voice and a punchy horn section are a virtual textbook on how live blues should be done. He then slows the proceedings down with “The Very Thought of You,” and his subtle guitar and melodious voice prove him the equal of any blues crooner around. This disc also contains an interview with King, which while both insightful and humorous, is interspersed between the live cuts, making listening to the songs a choppy experience. This is easily overcome, and blues fans will relish the discovery of more live material from one of the masters of the form.

Originally published Ink 19, 2003

Doyle Bramhall

Fitchburg Street
Doyle Bramhall
Yep Roc

Damn, I’m pretty sure we buried Stevie.

Evidently, I’m mistaken. Fitchburg Street sounds so much like a lost Stevie Ray Vaughn record you keep checking the cover to make sure the singer doesn’t have a goatee and a cowboy hat on. Doyle Bramhall is a great vocalist, good songwriter (he wrote “Life By the Drop,” which SRV covered) and an able guitarist, but damn, he’s walking in a really narrow trench on this record. Heavy on John Lee Hooker covers, Bramhall has Texas grit for blood, and his music has a commanding swagger that is missing in large measure from modern blues rock. Other than the lamentable choice to cover “That’s How Strong My Love Is,” which since Otis Redding recorded it, only fools have attempted, this is an enjoyable record, and since Bramhall and Stevie most likely developed their skills in the same place at the same time, it’s not surprising that he sounds a whole lot like SRV. But for some of us who revere Vaughn, this record, no matter how well intended, feels like walking on a grave.

Originally published Ink 19, 2003

Kenny Brown

Stingray
Kenny Brown
Fat Possum

Guitarist Kenny Brown is known primarily as the “right hand man” for legendary bluesman R.L Burnside, but with the release of this solo album, that definition will be in for a revision. Brown has absorbed much in his 20 year tenure with Burnside, knowing when to play it raw, and when it slide it sweet. Drawing on traditional material such as a stirring “You Don’t Know My Mind” or “Cocaine Bill,” Brown seems at home with either amped up electric blues or a more delicate (but still driven) folk style. Backed by Takeeshi Imura on bass and the hard-hitting Cedric Burnside on drums, Brown deserves further attention on his own merits. This is delta blues, 2003. Long may it reign.

Originally published Ink 19, 2003

Mississippi Fred McDowell & Johnny Woods

Mama Says I’m Crazy
Mississippi Fred McDowell & Johnny Woods
Fat Possum

Just a couple of guys, some hootch and a microphone. Seems to be all that is needed to create magic, at least when one of the guys is Fred McDowell. Best known as the writer of “You Got to Move” that ended up on a Rolling Stones album years ago, McDowell let it be known that he “didn’t play no rock and roll.” Instead he played slashing slide guitar with a tone that cuts into your head, and a rough vocal style that seems dredged up from a local swamp. The 11 cuts here are all traditional tunes done the McDowell way, which is basic, raw and hypnotic, aided well by harp blower Johnny Woods. Numbers such as “Shake ’em on Down,” “John Henry” and a guttural rendering of “I Got a Woman” further cement the legacy of one of blues music’s true originals. Recorded in someone’s house in 1967, (after rousing Woods from a booze induced nap) the record has a loose, easy feel to it, with conversation going on in the background. Of course it sounds perfect for what it is, and would be totally impossible to recreate today. Enjoy.

Originally published Ink 19, 2002

Gary Moore

Scars
Gary Moore
Sanctuary

Gary Moore has made a career of straddling the line between hard rock (as a member of Thin Lizzy) and the blues. On his latest release, Scars, he erases the line completely, and the results? Well, about as bad as you can imagine. Playing in a trio format with Skunk Anansie bassist Cass Lewis and Primal Scream drummer Darrin Mooney, Moore comes off sounding like that annoying kid at the music store trying to play Metallica licks on a purple guitar at ear-melting volume, oblivious to the world around him, fleeing for their lives. Moore has stated that listening to people such as System of a Down and other “heavy” bands prompted his move into this sort of sound, but he has missed an elemental fact about such music — namely, its all hard rock music, not the blues. Moore attempts some bizarre merger of B.B. King, Jimi Hendrix and… oh… Korn? His guitar tone, such as it is, sounds completely out of a cheap fuzzbox, with no personalization, just an ugly smear of screeching, trebly crap. Even on songs such as “Who Knows,” where he drops the volume back and plays some rather nice, stinging runs, he ruins it all on the choruses, when he Spinal Taps the amps and plods like a bull in a china shop. The fact that he really doesn’t sing particularly well only adds to this musical migraine. Eech.

Originally published Ink 19, 2002

Remembering John Lee Hooker

Remembering John Lee Hooker
Blue Storm

John Lee Hooker passed away in June of 2001, and when he left, he took the boogie with him. A lifetime playing the blues left us with a legacy of deceptively simple sounding music, seemingly high on feeling and groove, but sounding almost basic in its playing. Ha. Watching Hooker play was an exercise in Zen blues. He barely moved his hands, his left hand shaping chords almost entirely below the third fret of the guitar, his right hand idly flicking the strings. What that created, however, was a engulfing river of mojo that many have tried to copy, but few have come close. On this tribute to the great man, some of the greatest musicians around pay homage to the man with the sound, and while the record works great as a collection of good players making good music, it fails completely as a “remembrance” of John Lee Hooker. Largely performing works either written by or associated with Hooker, pickers such as Jeff Beck, Peter Green, Jack Bruce, Gary Moore and others capture some nice moments, but never come close to sounding for an instant like Hooker.