Gone, too, were the halcyon days of the blues, as black audiences had turned to soul and funk, and young white fans were moving towards the heavier-sounding blues bastardizations of Led Zeppelin, Humble Pie, and others. Chess Records, Wolf’s long-time label, tried to modernize his unique brand of blues for the rock ‘n’ roll record buyer with albums like The London Howlin’ Wolf Sessions, which paired the aging bluesman with much-younger British blues-rock acolytes like Eric Clapton, Steve Winwood, and half the Rolling Stones, the attempt meeting with little success.
Howlin’ Wolf’s Live and Cookin’ At Alice’s Revisited
While Howlin’ Wolf would never experience the sort of late-career renaissance enjoyed by his friend and number one competitor Muddy Waters during the mid-‘70s, he could still display a measure of the electricity he once had when the spirit so moved him. Such a performance can be found on Live and Cookin’ At Alice’s Revisited, released in 1972 as the only live album released during Wolf’s lifetime. Chess and producer Ralph Bass unknowingly captured lightning in a bottle, providing Wolf with one last shot at immortality (he would release only one more studio album, 1973’s The Back Door Wolf, before his death in 1976).
Live and Cookin’ At Alice’s Revisited documents a January 1972 performance at a converted coffeehouse on the North side of Chicago called Alice’s Revisited. For the record, Wolf was backed by his longtime musical foils – guitarist Hubert Sumlin and pianist Sunnyland Slim – as well as legendary drummer Fred Below, second guitarist L.V. Williams, former Little Walter bassist Dave Myers, and Chicago blues institution, saxophonist Eddie Shaw. It’s a sad commentary on Wolf’s status at the time that a few days after this now-legendary gig, Wolf and the band were opening for Alice Cooper in Los Angeles…an odd and ill-fitting pairing if ever there was one.
Mean Mistreater
The band romps through ten songs here, eight of which originally appeared on the 1972 and 1977 vinyl releases of the album, comprised of nine Wolf originals and a red-hot cover of Waters’ “Mean Mistreater.” Wolf opens with “When I Laid Down I Was Troubled,” his harmonica into leading into a full band vamp, the talented players laying down a fat blues groove that Wolf struts into with uncharacteristically subdued vocals. As the song unfolds, Wolf’s vocals become more strident, the instrumentation nearly burying his vocals in their trail as the groove rolls on. Scraps of Sumlin’s superb fretwork emerge from the chaotic mix, Below’s steady timekeeping accented by Myers’ walking bass line and Slim’s tinkling keys. Wolf’s manic harpwork fills in around the edges of a strong, highly-rocking performance.
The band is just warming up however, and after delivering a rhythmic Chicago blues-styled stomp in “I Didn’t Know,” complete with Sumlin’s scorching solos, Wolf and his gang hit their full stride with Waters’ “Mean Mistreater.” Peppering the band’s strolling rhythm with icy blasts from his harp, Wolf jumps in with his growling, whiskey-soaked vocals as Sumlin embellishes the performance with squalls of notes. Slim bangs away at his piano in the corner, but it’s Wolf’s swaying harp and heartbreak vocals that make the song soar.
Call Me The Wolf
Wolf is at full-stream by the time he belts out “I Had A Dream,” the singer masterfully welding soul and blues together in his performance as the band rocks the house behind their legendary singer. The rhythm section swings like a tornado, Sumlin throws in the hottest of licks, and Wolf proves himself an underrated harp player with an emotional, powerful solo of his own. His signature song, “Call Me the Wolf,” is a tortured cry from the soul of man, Wolf’s spoken-word intro evolving into a bluesy howl that speaks of betrayal, more of a primal scream at the heavens than a normal blues song.
Wolf’s take on the traditional “Sitting On Top of the World” is a slow-tempo bonfire that smolders and spits sparks, the band opening with shards of guitar playing against silky piano and the saxophone’s emotional howl. Wolf’s vocals are a Delta drawl that perfectly captures the song’s duality of emotions felt and those expressed. Two “bonus tracks” from the same live set and left off the original LP, are stellar performances both – “The Big House” is an extended blues jam with Wolf’s roaring vocals measured throughout, while “Mr. Airplane Man” is a riffing, rocking black cat moan, the band’s malevolent rhythms perfected in sync with Wolf’s growled, howled, and biting vocals.
The Reverend’s Bottom Line
As the old maxim goes, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, and by 1972 it was evident to anybody listening to releases like This Is Howlin’ Wolf’s New Album or Message To the Young that the blues great simply wasn’t ready or willing to move beyond his comfort zone. Live and Cookin’ At Alice’s Revisited, a long-overdue live album from the Wolf, captured the legend doing exactly what he did best – tearing up the stage with a setlist of familiar blues gems that provide a perfect showcase for the Wolf’s blues intensity.
It’s a bit of a travesty that Live and Cookin’ At Alice’s Revisited has remained out of print for almost 20 years, much less that it’s taken an Australian label – reissue specialists Raven Records – to bring this essential piece of Howlin’ Wolf’s legacy back into focus. My advice is that if you’re a Howlin’ Wolf fan, or a fan of Chicago blues overall, grab a copy of Live and Cookin’ At Alice’s Revisited while the album is in print and available. Wolf’s performance is priceless, the band one of the best in the blues at the time. ‘Nuff said! (Raven Records, released February 8, 2011)
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