Jimmy Thackery / Tab Benoit

Whiskey Store
Jimmy Thackery / Tab Benoit
Telarc Blues

Separately, Tab Benoit and former Nighthawks mainstay Jimmy Thackery have been playing blistering electric blues for seemingly ever, now they join forces and give it a go together. And for the most part it works. Joined by veteran harp player Charlie Musselwhite on a few cuts, and backed by Double Trouble (Reese Wynans, Tommy Shannon and Chris Layton), these 11 cuts find the two pros trading vocals and guitar parts back and forth, and it sounds more like an after-hours jam than a recording session. When it doesn’t work, it’s not the players, but their choice of material. “Unknown Legend” by Neil Young is a fine song, but it isn’t blues, and no amount of fretboard fire can hide that fact. Likewise for The Rolling Stones’ “The Last Time,” which is a little too much rock for the proceedings. But Bob Dylan’s “Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat” has always been 12 bars of weird, and they do it justice here. The rest of the cuts are solid, Stevie Ray Vaughn-ish blues that sounds good here, and probably even better live.

Originally published Ink 19, 2002

Junior Kimbrough

You Better Run: The Essential Junior Kimbrough
Junior Kimbrough
Fat Possum

One could easily change the title of this record around to read “Junior Kimbrough is Essential.” Kimbrough, along with fellow growlers such as R.L. Burnside and T-Model Ford, have put the Fat Possum label and Mississippi on the map as the home of some of the only necessary and vital blues being released today. Of them all, Junior Kimbrough makes the strongest case as a pure innovative stylist. His hypnotic, primal sound sinks over you like a humid night and once heard is rarely forgotten. Iggy Pop used this stuff when filming The Crow to get himself in the mood, so that should give you some indication as to the sort of stuff we are speaking of here. Owing a musical nod to the one chord minimalism of John Lee Hooker at points, Kimbrough is not flash. He is not the rush of a tidal wave against a building, but rather the slow drip of a leaking pipe that over time makes your house collapse. This compilation, recorded in large part at Kimbrough’s bar “Junior’s Juke Joint” (how could it be named anything else?) in Chulahoma, Mississippi is a good primer to his sound and vision. Starting off with a rare cut from 1969, “Release Me,” recorded with rockabilly legend Charlie Feathers, and continuing through 11 more cuts of guttural blues stomp, this record is fine stuff. A bit unsettling if you have never heard him before — there is little sugarcoating on these tracks. Musically it is raw, open constructions, and lyrically, well… take the title cut, “You Better Run,” for example. What starts as a description of what seems to be a rape in progress weaves into a type of love song — a type not often heard in any medium, much less Delta blues music in this day and time. Junior Kimbrough’s music takes you places you might not be comfortable visiting, but you’ll never regret getting in the passenger seat and letting him drive. Not for the weak at heart, or the House Of Blues-style 12-bar dilettantes. This is blues music that gives you hangovers, puts mud under your fingers, and leaves a lingering taste of grit in your mouth.

Originally published Ink 19, 2002

Children of the Blues

Children of the Blues
Art Tipaldi
Backbeat Books

If you were to cut the tree of the blues in half to count the rings, you would see evidence of all the various stages of this musical form. From Charley Patton and Robert Johnson in the Delta, to the rowdy hitmakers of Chicago such as Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, and Willie Dixon and on through the “white boy” blues of Eric Clapton, Mike Bloomfield, and Stevie Ray Vaughn, the blues has survived for hundreds of years — flourished at times, ebbed at others, but never losing its emotional appeal. This book focuses on those musicians who keep the fires burning today. Some are truly “children” of the blues — Johnny Copeland’s daughter Shemekia or Luther Allison’s son Bernard, while others are adopted offspring, learning at the feet of the masters, and going out in new and invigorating ways. Tipaldi ably illustrates the great tradition blues music has for reinvention and growth. Charlie Musselwhite tells of learning harp on the streets of Chicago from Little Walter, Bob Margolin relates how a young white kid got picked to play lead guitar for Muddy Waters, and what the experience taught him.

Jimmy Thackery and the Drivers

We Got It
Jimmy Thackery and the Drivers
Telarc

Jimmy Thackery has been playing a mean blues/R+B mixture since his days as the guitarist in the legendary Nighthawks, and his latest release We Got It is more of the same. Built around the songs of the most famous unknown blues singer ever, Eddie Hinton, Thackery and the Drivers have a passion and intensity level nearly unmatched in the blues world today. This is roadhouse stuff, with stinging guitar and pulsing horns, which sounds born of Muscle Shoals and a thousand nights on the road. Thackery’s voice might not be the match for Hinton’s (few are), but his interpretations of the soulful sound leave no doubt as to his respect and love for the material. “My Searching is Over” or “Big Fat Woman” or any of the other songs on this release keep your feet moving, and your heart crying. They got it — now you get it.

Originally published Ink 19, 2002

Jimmie Vaughan

Do You Get The Blues?
Jimmie Vaughan
Artemis

There are probably few bluesmen today with a better resume than Jimmie Vaughan. Genetics and environment got him started on the right path, and his tenure in The Fabulous Thunderbirds is still the stuff of legend, partly because of Vaughan’s unique and relaxed style. Unlike his brother, when Jimmie has a Strat in his hands, it talks, not screams (not that SRV’s screaming is a bad thing, ya know), his tone is butter, and he always seems intensely relaxed, if such a thing can be stated. So, why is his latest solo disc somewhat of a disappointment? For one thing, and I don’t know if this is my copy or what, but this record sounds bad. He strives for a Memphis soul sorta feel (in fact, some tracks were recorded at famed Ardent Studios in Memphis) with a touch of T-Bone Walker, and I think he played the notes, but the sound didn’t make it to the plastic. His grease is lost, and Jimmie’s grease is funkier than a corndog at a county fair. The drums sound like boxes, and even the vocals, including those of guest Lou Ann Barton, sound flat. The song selection is all of a similar sort, anchored with Bill Willis’ Hammond B-3 and Vaughan’s stinging six string, but none of the numbers break out and grab you. Granted, even so-so Jimmie Vaughan is better than 90% of the House of Blues hacks out there, but when his career is as lofty as it has been, you expect a lot. Do You Get the Blues? doesn’t quite bring it home.

Originally published Ink 19, 2002

Tinsley Ellis: Hell or High Water

Hell or High Water
Tinsley Ellis
Telarc

It’s entirely appropriate that the cover of bluesman Tinsley Ellis’ new record sets the guitarist in the middle of a swamp. A swamp, that dark southern place, a mixture of a hundred different things, is much like Ellis’ music. A dose of blues, a big splash of soul, and a bit of Texas-style rock and roll honk. After 20 years of recording, the Georgian has become not only a highly respected guitar legend, he has also become one of the better blues and soul songwriters working (his “A Quitter Never Wins” was a hit for newcomer Jonny Lang). This new record, his first for Telarc, is 12 originals that showcase his stinging guitar and gruff vocal style, and it sounds as if it might have been recorded in a Memphis studio sometime in the ’60s — think Stax Records and that great Steve Cropper guitar — and is produced by legendary boardman Eddy Offord (Yes, ELP, 311). Instead of relying on churning up yet another version of some blues standard, Ellis has created a blues/soul hybrid that is uniquely his — check out the epic “Stuck In Love,” where Tinsley streams out guitar lines that summon the feel of backline horn section, or the Z.Z Top/Fabulous Thunderbirds grease of “All Rumors Are True.” Tinsley Ellis might have hopped around, label-wise in the last few years, but one listen to Hell or High Water tells you his address straight away — at home in the blues.

Originally published Ink 19, 2002

The Blues White Album

The Blues White Album
Various Artists
Telarc

Sometimes you take chances, and they pay off, and sometimes they don’t. Mark this interpretation of the classic Beatles album down as a noble attempt that didn’t really work. The idea is sound enough: gather some of the leading lights of contemporary blues and let them loose on some Lennon and McCartney chestnuts. The only problem is, most of these songs aren’t blues songs, and because they are so familiar to our ears, they don’t really work too far removed from their origins. Take Jimmy Thackery’s version of “Why Don’t We Do It in the Road.” Granted, it’s as close to a filler song as anything the Fabs ever recorded, but Thackery’s version is a plodding, dull mess. Likewise for Maria Muldaur and her take on “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da.” She’s a stellar vocalist, but transforming the song into a generic blues shuffle doesn’t really work. The backing band includes ex-Saturday Night Live bandleader G.E Smith, who plays well enough, particularly if you don’t have to see his preening, posing mug while he’s doing it. Co-hort T-Bone Wolk plays bass and adds a by the numbers attempt at “Don’t Pass Me By,” which isn’t particularly bluesy, or good, for that matter.

All this said, the disc does have some highpoints. Chris Duarte does a wicked version of “I’m So Tired,” and Anders Osborne drips venom on “Happiness is a Warm Gun.” Colin Linden (remember him from Down From the Mountain?) picks a dandy resonator guitar on “Blackbird,” which is a nice contrast to the zillions of people who use the song as Guitar 101. As good as the good stuff here is, three cuts out of ten might be a good batting average in the majors, but probably isn’t enough to warrant picking this thing up.

Originally published Ink 19, 2002

Preachin’ The Blues

Preachin’ The Blues
The Music of Mississippi Fred McDowell
Telarc Blues

Most people, if they know of Fred McDowell at all, know him as the writer of “You Gotta Move,” which The Stones did a cover of. Good song, good version. Well, Preachin’ The Blues is 12 more examples of McDowell’s blues boogie, all done in good fashion. Brian Stoltz does a take on “You Gotta Move,” as does Tab Benoit on “Train I Ride” which is Fred’s version of “Mystery Train.” “Get Right Church” showcases Paul Geremia’s skill at the 12-string, and is a thing of beauty. Fans of Hot Tuna will recognize “Keep Your Lamp Trimmed and Burning,” and the version here, featuring Colleen Sexton on vocals and Gregg Hoover on guitar is a chugging, sensuous romp.

Mississippi Fred McDowell made the point during his life to make sure people knew “he didn’t play no rock and roll.” That might be true, but from “61 Highway” to “Kokomo Blues,” he helped create the sound that rock and roll was built on. This set is excellently assembled by Steve James (who serves up a nifty “I Rolled and I Tumbled” here), who also did the Charley Patton tribute (Down the Dirt Road) on Telarc a few months ago. Keep it up, Steve!

Boom Boom No More: John Lee Hooker, 1917-2001

Boom Boom No More
John Lee Hooker, 1917-2001

The world is a quieter, calmer place since John Lee Hooker passed away Thursday night. He was 83, and just laid down and never woke up. But up until that point, in his trademark hat and shiny suit, Hooker wrote one of the major chapters of the book of the blues. With songs such as “Boogie Chillun,” “Boom Boom,” and “Dimples,” he growled his way into the elite, influencing all bluesmen that would follow, and quite a few rockers, as well. Led Zeppelin owes a large part of their early sound to him, and they damn sure made more money recycling it than he did inventing it.

In the early 1980s, I had the good fortune to work for an Atlanta blues band called The Heartfixers. Led by Tinsley Ellis and featuring former Muddy Waters harp player Chicago Bob Nelson on vocals, The ‘Fixers were an incredible band, the real deal. One of the greatest thrills we enjoyed was two nights we spent as the opening act for John Lee Hooker. The first show at the long-defunct Rumors in Atlanta was an eye-opening experience. Backstage before the show, Hooker sat in an easy chair while streams of fans brought albums and posters for him to sign. His guitarist/road manager stood beside him, and when John Lee would take a record from a fan, he would hold it up to his guitarist, who would say “yes” or “no.” For the ones that garnered a “yes,” Hooker would scrawl a sloppy signature. These were the albums that he actually got paid for by one of the dozens of record labels that released his music. But if the item fell into the “no” category, he would only mark an “X.” These albums were ones that had stolen his songs and never paid him, and he didn’t really admit to their existence.

Sue Foley

Love Comin’ Down
Sue Foley
Shanachie

Arthur C. Clarke once said, “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” The same can be said for art as well, and a case to prove this point would be Sue Foley’s sixth release, Love Comin’ Down. Armed with a voice that haunts and guitar skills that scare, Foley stakes her claim as perhaps the best female blues artist around, and one of the genre’s ablest songwriters. From the opener “Two Trains” to the fiercely independent “Let Me Drive,” she sings and plays like a gunslinger marching across the village square, armed and ready. Her guitar harkens back to the greats such as Freddie King (“You’re Barking Up The Wrong Tree”) and a touch of the Vaughn brothers, but she does it so well and uniquely that the end result is a truly personal tone. Adept at both electric and acoustic moods, she even tackles a flamenco flourish on “Mediterranean Breakfast.” At moments her voice reminds one of Lucinda Williams (who harmonizes on “Empty Cup”), but in the end, Foley and her talent stand alone. This is the way the blues should be done.

Originally published Ink 19, 2000