Hot Wax: James Cotton, Junior Wells, Carey Bell & Billy Branch’s Harp Attack! (1990/2024)

The blues as a commercially viable style of music seemed to be in pretty good shape in 1990. The blues boom of the 1980s – stoked by the critical acclaim heaped upon, and the commercial success of guitarists like Stevie Ray Vaughan and Robert Cray – would lead to a crop of innovative young artists like Joe Bonamassa and Kenny Wayne Shepherd. Blues greats of the 1950s and ‘60s like B.B. King and Buddy Guy were still touring constantly to large crowds, and independent blues labels such as Rooster Blues and Black Top Records were thriving, releasing albums from lesser-known, but talented bluesmen and women.

Chicago’s Alligator Records label was still truckin’ along at the dawn of the 1990s, releasing albums during the decade from a diverse roster of blues talent that included Koko Taylor, Charlie Musselwhite, Lil’ Ed & the Blues Imperials, and Lonnie Brooks, among many others. Never the wallflower, label head Bruce Iglauer wasn’t opposed to musical experiments that may or may not pay off in the marketplace. For instance, Showdown – a 1985 collaboration between Albert Collins, Robert Cray, and Johnny Copeland – sold well and earned the label its second Grammy™ Award. So, when Iglauer brought four harp masters together in the studio in 1990, he had great expectations for the resulting album.

Cotton, Wells, Bell & Branch’s Harp Attack!

James Cotton

Originally released in 1990 and now reissued on vinyl, Harp Attack! was the result of four recording sessions that brought together some of the finest contemporary harmonica players in the blues in James Cotton, Junior Wells, Carey Bell, and Billy Branch. While Cotton and Wells were both bona fide legends by 1990, Bell was less well-known but no less respected by the blues cognoscenti. Branch was the “kid” of the group, who had grown up listening to, and learning from the music of the others. It was a challenge bringing the four talented instrumentalists into the studio for, as Iglauer said in an interview with this writer, “bringing harmonica players together isn’t really the same thing as bringing guitar players together, because the concept of chording or rhythm harmonica isn’t there, it’s primarily a solo instrument.”

Still, Iglauer managed to nudge, coax, and coerce great performances from all the artists involved, even getting some fine rhythm harp behind the individual lead solos. Harp Attack! opens with the swinging “Down Home Blues,” a perfect showcase for the assembled talents, and everybody gets their turn in the spotlight. Cotton sings the first verse, and delivers a languid, lazy, but steady-flowing harp solo before handing it over to youngster Billy Branch. While Branch’s vocals aren’t as assured as Cotton’s, his solo is razor-sharp and high flying. Wells is the best vocalist of the bunch, and knocks his verse out before launching into a short, shocking solo. Bell delivers strong vocals and a red-hot solo before Cotton, Wells, and Branch play the song out. Each harpist provides a unique tone and viewpoint to their solo, giving the song the feel of an extended blues jam as they riff on top of Lucky Peterson’s piano and Michael Coleman’s subtle six-string fills.

Tribute to Sonny Boy Williamson

Junior Wells

Even in 1990, you couldn’t record an album of blues harp without paying tribute to the great Sonny Boy Williamson (Rice Miller). Junior Wells does the honors here, cranking out an inspired cover of Williamson’s “Keep Your Hands Out of My Pockets,” mangling the words with his typically soulful drawl, punctuating his vocals with fluid solos that perfectly capture the emotion and impact of the song. The trio of Cotton, Wells, and Branch take on the Delta blues gem “Little Car Blues,” Coleman injecting some tasty fretwork behind Cotton’s lively vocals. As Wells and Branch provide background fills, Cotton’s solo soars above the fray, breathless and bold. By contrast, Wells’ solo here flies low to the ground, hitting your senses like a passing locomotive.

Wells takes the spotlight again on his original “Somebody Changed the Lock,” the song’s jaunty, up-tempo arrangement a perfect foil for his understated vocals and fast-flying harp notes. Coleman and bassist Johnny Gayden lay down a funky rhythmic undercurrent, drummer Ray Allison adds a few well-timed beats, and Peterson’s fingers dash across the keys, but it’s Wells’ game, and his solos are effective and efficient. Bell takes the fore on his “Second Hand Man,” a better showcase for his hearty vocals and his blistering, Big Walter Horton-inspired harp style. Harp Attack! closes with Branch’s “New Kid On the Block,” the 39-year-old “rookie” of the group writing his own ticket with a raucous, biographical Chicago blues rave-up that evokes the best of Wells and Cotton, with a stylistic nod to Little Walter amidst Branch’s rowdy vocals and spirited harp play.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

The harmonica has a lengthy and respected tradition in blues music, and its role as a lead instrument is second only to the guitar in blues history. From the earliest days of the Mississippi Delta blues, when traveling bluesmen would tuck a “mouth harp” in their pocket and grab a train, through the 1950s when giants like Little Walter and Sonny Boy Williamson brought new popularity for the instrument, to 1960s-era trailblazers like Junior Wells and Paul Butterfield, the harmonica has become ingrained in the music.

Harp Attack! features some of the most spirited and energetic performances you’ll hear on any blues album, and you’ll find few players better than the four artists showcased here. If you’re a fan of blues harp – and who isn’t – this mighty (and essential) record should own real estate in your collection. (Alligator Records, reissued September 13th, 2024)

Buy the record direct from Alligator: Cotton, Wells, Bell & Branch’s Harp Attack!

Album Review: Calidoscopio’s Scorpio Rising (2024)

Cultural ‘Cassandras’ have been bemoaning the state of rock ‘n’ roll for much of the past two decades. Critics all but declared the genre D.O.A. at the turn of the century and have since ignored evidence to the contrary in the form of red-hot albums from rockers like Joe Grushecky, Redd Kross, Jack White, Guided By Voices, and Dream Syndicate, to name but a few, over the past couple of years. There are newer R&R acolytes the road and in the studio, too, young soul rebels like Beach Slang, Fontaines D.C., Wet Leg, and King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard. Rock ‘n’ roll isn’t dead and buried, it’s not even in a coma; it just went underground, much as it did during the disco years, or in the commercial aftermath of grunge.

Among the plethora of underground bands genuflecting at the altar of rock ‘n’ roll are what I like to call the “Children of Nuggets” (or maybe the “Grandchildren” at this point, as the 50th anniversary of the release of the original, influential Nuggets album has come and gone…). These are bands that, while influenced by the sounds of the swinging ‘60s – pop, rock, blues, garage, and psychedelic – are nevertheless putting their own spin on vintage vibrations, not only breathing new life into antiquated styles, but creating new paths to take these genres into the future. One such “grandchild” that is blazing new trails is Rochester, New York’s Calidoscopio, a multi-national, trans-oceanic outfit fronted by producer and multi-instrumentalist Dave Anderson and including German guitarist Oliver Hilbers and drummer Knuth Hildebrandt.

Calidoscopio’s Scorpio Rising

Calidoscopio released its fantastic debut album Get Ready! back in 2021, about which this scribe wrote at the time, “Calidoscopio’s Get Ready! provides a mind-bending trip back to the future with a timeless sound that is both familiar and yet innovative.” Giving the LP another spin prior to penning this review, I stand by my words. Scorpio Rising is the band’s sophomore effort, four years in the making and, if anything, more mind-blowing than its predecessor. Leaping right out of your speakers with the opening track, “I’m Higher Than I’m Down,” the listener is caught in a sonic-swirl that bodychecks your senses like a proto-Hawkwind, blending Seeds-like garage-rock riffs with hyper psychedelic space-rock flourishes that leave you reeling from the first note to the last.

Giving no quarter, “Shadows of the Moonlight” is more garage-y in feel, with a steady cacophony of drumbeats and an infectious guitar riff that falls prey to a killer solo that cuts with tooth and claw. “Burn A Hole” pairs clever lyrics with a novel vocal delivery above a steady rhythmic track with sparse six-string flourishes. Opening with a clamorous instrumental din, “You’re Gonna Make Me” combines a Sky Saxon aesthetic with ringing, and often-times clashing instrumentation and distraught vox to create a bluesy vibe. A classic tale of romantic woe that is as timeless as rock ‘n’ roll itself, “Gypsy Girl” brings a wan folkish pacing to an emotional ‘tears on my guitar’ performance, two powerful minutes of anguished heartbreak.

Magic Panacea

Cut from similar romance-gone-wrong cloth, “I Want To Be Alone” delivers a complex, textured instrumental arrangement running like an angry river beneath Anderson’s tortured vocals while Hildebrandt’s shotgun cymbal work and cascading drumbeats drive the emotional heartbeat of the song. With a vibrating sonic wavelength and dense production fitting the moment, “Shanghai Girl” rocks from post to post with chiming fretwork and locomotive rhythms. The throwback rock of “She’s Bad” reminds of Duane Eddy with nearly-hidden vocals and a loud, twangy guitar sound that bounces from speaker to speaker. Picking up the pace just a notch, “Magic Panacea” brings a dose of psychedelia to the party, offering up a buffet of delicious git licks above an energetic drumbeat, including a gorgeous ‘50s-style solo that evokes James Burton’s influential work back in the day.

Downshifting to allow the listener to catch their breath, “Here Comes The Sun” captures a darker, atmospheric vibe at odds with the song’s seemingly upbeat lyrics. The dichotomy helps drive the song across new stylistic turf and makes for an exciting, mind-bending performance. The title track is pure, pedigreed psychedelic rock with a razor edge and lysergic lyrics, four-minutes and eleven sugar cubed seconds of joyful music-making with dueling guitars and thundering drumbeats guaranteed to take your head to a better place. Closer “Kicked Out-Kicked In” is unrelenting in its onslaught, a monster, guitar-driven garage-fire that couldn’t hit any harder if Anderson and Hilbers actually smashed their guitars over your head.   

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

With Scorpio Rising, Calidoscopio displays an evolution in sound and a willingness to explore previously-undiscovered corners of rock music that have remained hidden for decades. Yes, the band pursues an overall musical direction that, at first blush, may seem derivative and/or revisionist, but nothing could be further from the truth. Dig a little deeper into Scorpio Rising and you’ll find the method to the band’s madness, heretofore unrealized creative avenues where others fear to tread. No matter your age, if you dig bands like the Seeds, the 13th Floor Elevators, and the Electric Prunes, you’ll find a lot to love in the grooves of Calidoscopio’s Scorpio Rising! (Jargon Records, released July 19th, 2024)

Buy the album from Bandcamp: Calidoscopio’s Scorpio Rising
 
Previously on That Devil Music: Calidoscopio’s Get Ready album review

CD Review: Greg Prevost's After The Wars (2024)

After the break-up of garage-rock royalty the Chesterfield Kings in 2009 (accept no weak-kneed substitutes!), band frontman Greg ‘Stackhouse’ Prevost returned to his roots and launched a solo career with 2012’s critically-acclaimed effort Mississippi Murderer that has resulted in four bodacious collections of git-driven blues-rock that is equal parts Johnny Winter and early Rolling Stones with a double-shot of Lightnin’ Hopkins to clear your head.

Of Prevost’s previous album, 2021’s Songs For These Times, I wrote that “the singer, songwriter, and guitarist has crafted an impressive collection of material that not only defies previously-held expectations but also explores the possibilities of roots ‘n’ blues music.” Flash forward three years and Prevost’s much-anticipated fourth solo effort, After The Wars, which represents a quantum leap forward in the artist’s creative evolution that, even after 40+ years, proves that you can teach an old dog new tricks.

Greg ‘Stackhouse’ Prevost’s After The Wars

With After The Wars, Prevost expands his musical palette beyond scrappy blues-rock to incorporate folk, country, and even psychedelic-pop for a dozen songs that provide the listener with a mini-history of the last six decades of music while pushing beyond expectations with every single of them. Opening with the obscure Felix Pappalardi/Mountain song “Traveling In the Dark,” Prevost eschews a hard rock approach in favor of a feathery, shimmering psych-folk arrangement that emphasizes the song’s lyrics, delivered in a wan voice above a lofty acoustic guitar strum that belies the distraught lyrics.

Throwing listeners a curveball, Prevost delivers a spry reading of the traditional Gospel tune “Twelve Gates To the City,” best known for its rendition by singer Don Lewis. Accompanied by singer Danielle Colbert-Parrish, whose vocal talents elevate Prevost’s grittier vox to heavenly heights, it’s an inspired and fiery performance peppered by Prevost’s raging harmonica fills. The original “No Hallelujah For Glory” is a sort of gospel-blues tune with a lively six-string pull and Texas blues-styled vocals and mournful harmonica while a cover of cult-rocker Roky Erickson’s “I Have Always Been Here Before” offers a fresh perspective on one of the underrated songwriter’s best tunes, delivered with reverence and energy in a psyche-folk style.

Prevost’s relationship with obscure ‘70s rocker Armand Schaubroeck – owner of the world-famous House of Guitars store in Rochester NY – dates back decades to when Greg worked at the HOG, so his cover of Schaubroeck’s “Babe We’re Not Part of Society” isn’t totally unexpected, but is nevertheless a welcome surprise. Two flash minutes of raging vocals, fiery harmonica, and jagged guitar strum underlines Schaubroeck’s original vision with reckless abandon, and although I can’t find the song on any of Schaubroeck’s albums, if you dig it, maybe you’ll check out the recent CD reissue of Schaubroeck’s classic 1974 album A Lot of People Would Like To See Armand Schaubroeck…Dead.

Roadkill Rag

By contrast, Prevost’s cover of the Buddy Holly rarity “Learning the Game” is downright pastoral in its delivery, sort of a pop-psych construct with gorgeous strings and an arrangement that draws out the romantic nature of the lyrics. The original “Roadkill Rag” is a blustery, up-tempo blues-rocker with echoing guitar licks, growled lyrics, and a ramshackle performance befitting both juke-joint and honky-tonk. A cover of Johnny Paycheck’s “Apartment #9” is totally unexpected, yet cleverly fits into the album’s track list, the honky-tonk tearjerker gliding to Nashville on the wings of Al Keltz’s subtle pedal steel guitar. Prevost’s twangy vocals hint at another musical direction; maybe he’ll cover a David Allen Coe song next album?

Riding out on some elegant guitar and harmonica work, “Apartment #9” effortlessly segues into a cover of Phil Och’s late-career folk gem “No More Songs.” Accompanied by Karl LaPorta’s beautiful, low-key piano, Prevost imbues what is basically a funeral dirge for Och’s career with dignity and presence. “Dust My Blues” breaks the tension with an up-tempo reading fueled by soaring harmonica riffs and howling vocals. The album’s title track is a sort of extended song cycle that blends Prevost’s imaginative four ‘suites’ with David Bowie’s glam-infused psych-rocker “Memory of A Free Festival” in the creation of a mesmerizing head trip that has more in common with 1969 than 2024.

Stream-of-consciousness vocals, cacophonic instrumentation, and overall chaos is tempered by a unique musical vision that delivers an energetic and entertaining miasma of sound and texture which points towards a new psychedelia that is informed by, but not beholden to, the sounds of the ‘60s. The suite ends with seeming destruction before the triumphant message of “Memory of A Free Festival” breaks out. It’s a heady trip, and a helluva seven minutes! After The Wars closes out with the traditional folk tune “He Was A Friend of Mine.” Covered by folks like Bob Dylan, Dave van Ronk, and the Byrds, Prevost brings a bluesier take to the song, which dates back to at least the 1930s. I like Prevost’s reading, which tacks towards a joyful remembrance of the friend in question despite the mournful nature of the instrumentation.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

As much as I enjoy Prevost’s previous solo albums and, indeed, much of the Chesterfield Kings’ worthy album catalog, After The Wars is a much more nuanced and intricate collection of songs. The artist is accompanied by a larger cast of musical friends here, including longtime collaborator Paul Morabito on guitar, and co-producer Dave Anderson, of the very cool band Calidoscopio, who contributes various instruments. Greg’s wife Caroll makes the album a family affair by providing vocals on several songs, and the world-famous Felix the Cat even makes his voice heard (on “Zen Cats,” part of the title song suite).

After The Wars is Greg Prevost’s most considered, creative, and complex album to date, the artist paying tribute to his considerable past efforts and influences while still defying expectations with his sojourn towards the future. (Mean Disposition Records, 2024)

Buy the LP from Get Hip Records: Greg Prevost’s After The Wars

Also on That Devil Music: Greg Prevost’s Universal Vagrant CD review

Book Review: Jim Higgins’ Sweet, Wild and Vicious (2024)

On the Mount Olympus of rock ‘n’ roll, Lou Reed may be Apollo, the Greek god of music and poetry…or maybe he was the Oracle of Delphi, Pythia, whose prophecies are said to have come from divine possession. More likely, though, Reed was Hermes, the messenger god, who was also known as a bit of a trickster along the line of Loki of Norse mythology, for what else could Metal Machine Music be considered other than a terribly cheeky prank?

Perhaps Reed was an amalgam of all of these mythological figures. Over the course of a lengthy career that spanned six decades, Reed released nearly three-dozen studio and live albums – both solo and with his influential group the Velvet Underground – with more than a few clunkers in the mix, but enough solid efforts to build an impressive legacy. More importantly, he spread the message of rock ‘n’ roll, a particular gospel fueled by Reed’s unique and unparalleled creative vision.

Jim Higgins’ Sweet, Wild and Vicious

There is an entire shelf of books available that deconstruct Reed’s life and career, some obviously written by fans like Will Hermes and Anthony DeCurtis, which present the artist in an honest light, warts and all, while others (Howard Sounes, I’m looking at you…) seem to be purposely salacious, designed to denigrate Reed’s reputation without the good sense to realize that you can’t really tarnish a god’s image. Have these scribes ever read the story of Leda & the Swan? An entirely different bookshelf covers the lightning bolt-brief albeit influential existence of the Velvet Underground.

Yes, Lou was a prickly, contentious, misanthropic figure who particularly disliked the music media, and his feuds with critics like Lester Bangs are legendary in and of themselves. Reed could sometimes be hateful in words and actions, but looking at the artist from an arm’s length, it seems that most of the damage caused by Lou was targeted at himself. What few of the aforementioned books do, however, is really cover the man’s music in depth. For that, we have Jim Higgins’ Sweet, Wild and Vicious.

Higgins is a former pop music and jazz critic for the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel newspaper – back in the day when arts coverage was valued by the mainstream press – and Sweet, Wild and Vicious is an invaluable listener’s guide to Reed’s largish catalog of music. Published by Ira Robbins’ Trouser Press Books, a commercial imprint with a fan’s perspective and plenty of rock ‘n’ roll history behind it, unlike most of these currently trendy “album-by-album” books, Sweet, Wild and Vicious doesn’t lapse into the “song-by-song” orthodoxy that tends to hamstring acute criticism in favor of word count (and, as author of one of these books – Sonicbond’s Spirit…On Track – I have some familiarity with the form). 

Lou Reed, Montauk Studio 2002, photo by Julian Schnabel, courtesy Light In The Attic Records

Lou Reed Album-by Album

Instead, Higgins treats each recording individually and organically in its entirety, providing context and history while calling out the best (and sometimes worst) of the songs. Sweet, Wild and Vicious begins, logically, with the four Velvet Underground albums circa 1967-1970 and, after a quick and insightful aside into the song “Sweet Jame,” dives into Reed’s solo career with his self-titled 1972 debut album, which I hold in higher esteem than does Higgins. Over the course of 246 pages, Higgins smartly and concisely tackles each album in the Reed milieu, including late-period VU live discs, up through Reed’s mischievous swansong, Lulu, his 2011 collaboration with heavy metal legends Metallica.

Higgins’ appreciation for even Reed’s minor works is obvious, but never fawning, and he seems to be able to pluck a gem or two out of even lackluster albums like Mistrial or Rock and Roll Heart. Higgins’ enthusiasm is contagious, his insight as thought-provoking as the artist’s work he’s writing about. The last few chapters of Sweet, Wild and Vicious go beyond Reed to discuss legendary critic Robert Christgau’s estimation of the artist’s body of work and “Children of the Velvet Underground,” i.e. musicians influenced by Reed’s work including some of the usual suspects – folks like David Bowie, Dream Syndicate, and Jonathan Richman – as well as some you may not have thought of like Yo La Tengo, Joy Division, and the Feelies.

The final two chapters feature “Orphans and Rarities,” significant performances that Reed contributed to various tribute albums or movie soundtracks, and “Remake, remodel,” tackling covers of Reed’s songs by other artists. As Higgins writes, “many people can claim to be better singers than Lou Reed, with a greater range or more technical skill. But that doesn’t mean they can improve on or even credibly deliver a Reed song.” His criticisms of the performances he describes are a perfect illustration of Reed’s unique ability to infuse a song with magic that is impossible for even more talented other artists to capture.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Higgins’ Sweet, Wild and Vicious is a quick read (no pun intended!), well-written and intelligent and providing even the casual Lou Reed fan with motivation to track down some of those albums you may have overlooked or forgotten about. I’d highly recommend it for anybody with any interest in the artist, the book a welcome addition to the rapidly-growing Trouser Press catalog, which also includes Mitch Cohen’s Looking For the Magic, a fascinating account of his tenure with Arista Records, several collections of Robbins’ wonderful writing on music, and the essential Zip It Up! The Best of Trouser Press Magazine 1974-1984, all of which deserve space on your bookshelf. (Trouser Press Books, published April 19th, 2024)

Buy the book from Trouser Press: Jim Higgins’ Sweet, Wild and Vicious

Archive Review: Junior Well’s Hoodoo Man Blues (1965/2011)

One of a handful of bona fide classic blues LPs, Junior Wells’ Hoodoo Man Blues ushered in a new era for the genre. Although blues music was struggling commercially in the mid-1960s as a young African-American audience chose to listen to soul, and later funk rather than their “parent’s music,” a new audience would develop as young, white rock ‘n’ roll fans latched onto the blues even more strongly than they did during the short-lived folk-blues boom of the late 1950s and early 1960s. Along with the Paul Butterfield Blues Band’s self-titled 1965 debut, Hoodoo Man Blues would help write the blueprint that most blues-rock bands of the late 1960s would follow.

In retrospect, it seems like a natural, inevitable progression, but in 1965, Delmark Records’ Bob Koester was taking a big risk with the recording and release of Hoodoo Man Blues. Blues albums had, until that point, mostly been a collection of songs from an artist’s 45rpm record releases surrounded by studio filler. Hoodoo Man Blues was, perhaps, the first true document of a working blues band just cutting loose in the studio as they did on the stage at Theresa’s or other Chicago blues clubs without considering the release of a single. The album truly captured the sound and fury of the Chicago blues at that time even while pointing the music towards a new direction.   

Junior Well’s Hoodoo Man Blues

Wells’ take on Amos Blakemore’s “Snatch It Back and Hold It” would bring a new sound to the traditional Chicago blues. Displaying as many James Brown-influenced funk underpinnings as Little Walter-styled blues aesthetic, the performance placed more reliance on Wells’ funky, forceful vocals and Buddy Guy’s slippery chicken-picking as it did Wells’ normal harpwork. Another Blakemore cover, the underrated “Ships On the Ocean,” takes the standard blues sound onto darker, stormy turf with an incredibly nuanced but forceful six-string performance by Guy and mournful blasts of Wells’ harp, with the singer’s growling, Howlin’ Wolf-styled vocals reaching deep into a bottomless well of emotion.

Wells pays tribute to two of his major influences on Hoodoo Man Blues, starting with a blistering cover of John Lee “Sonny Boy” Williamson’s classic “Good Morning Schoolgirl.” With a lusty vocal performance accompanied by Guy’s lively fretwork, Wells’ punctuates the lyrics with shards of harp laid atop the jaunty rhythm provided by bassist Jack Myers and drummer Billy Warren. The title track is taken from harp wizard Sonny Boy Williamson, and Wells’ version features an upbeat, rollicking arrangement with plenty of harp gymnastics and great guitar tone from Guy, who manages to coax a sound akin to a riffing organ from his fretboard.

In The Wee Wee Hours

Wells dips into the Amos Blakemore catalog once again for “In the Wee Wee Hours,” one of four gems from the songwriter to be found on Hoodoo Man Blues. Wells firmly places “In the Wee Wee Hours” in the pantheon of classic blues torch-songs with a dynamic performance that colors the entire song in a dark shade of blue. Wells’ emotional harpwork lays the foundation upon which Guy embroiders his beautiful, melancholy guitar lines. Wells’ vocals are sparse, more of a fill in-between the soul-crushing instrumentation, and they work well in context, providing maximum impact. By contrast, Blakemore’s “We’re Ready” is delivered as a mid-tempo instrumental shuffle with a swaggering backbeat, Wells’ fluid harp playing, and Guy’s stinging, sharp-edged guitar. Warren’s drumming really stands out here, propelling the song with flurries of cymbal and skins.

Guitarist Kenny Burrell’s “Chitlins Con Carne” has become a blues and jazz standard, but in 1965 it was a mere instrumental curiosity, the song’s charms amplified here by Wells’ serpentine harp and Guy’s energetic six-string, passages marked by Wells’ pronounced grunts. Hoodoo Man Blues ends as it begins, with Wells’ taking the traditional “Yonder Wall” into the stratosphere with a rocking take that brings the noise and brings the funk with scrappy harp and rhythmic guitarplay rolling high in the mix above a fat rhythmic groove. This 2011 reissue includes several bonus tracks in the form of alternate takes and illuminating studio chatter, but the most significant find here is a performance of Buddy Guy’s “I Ain’t Stranded” that features Wells’ soulful vocals sputtering and sliding across Guy’s Chuck Berry-styled, duckwalking rock ‘n’ blues guitar pickin’.         

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Quite simply, if you’re a blues fan, then you should have a copy of Junior Wells’ Hoodoo Man Blues in your collection. Featuring brilliant performances all around, matched with a classic tracklist and stellar instrumentation, the album would become – and remains – Delmark’s all-time best-seller and is a Grammy® Hall of Fame inductee.

While the bonus tracks included on this 2011 reissue add a little additional spice to the already heady musical gumbo, the addition of new liner note and rare B&W photos from the original 1965 recording session provide plenty of reasons to upgrade your old copy. For the newbie, however, Hoodoo Man Blues is where the legacies of Junior Wells and Buddy Guy were first writ large. Get it! (Delmark Records, released August 23, 2011)

Buy the CD from Amazon: Junior Wells’ Hoodoo Man Blues

Archive Review: Mountain's Over the Top (1995)

The first time that I ever heard Mountain – the Mountain Climbing! album, I believe – was at an older friend’s house. I was twelve or thirteen, he was eighteen, and a bunch of us would gather in his basement to pass the pipe and bottle around and sample tunes from his large record collection. Many of the bands and artists that would come to influence my plunge into rock criticism were first experienced in that basement – Mountain, Spirit, Steppenwolf, Black Sabbath, Jimi Hendrix...

From the 1970 release of Mountain Climbing!, the band’s second album, throughout their slow disintegrated and up to the break-up half a decade later, Mountain was one of the biggest bands in the land – and, perhaps, the most obscure. They played Woodstock, but were cut out of the movie; they sold millions of copies of their first few albums, but are remembered today for a single song: “Mississippi Queen.” A generation of kids that today still listen to Hendrix and Ozzie are unfamiliar with the rich body of work created by the genius of Leslie West and Felix Pappalardi, the odd couple behind Mountain’s success.

In the late 1960s, Felix Pappalardi was known as the producer of Cream, the biggest band in the world in their time. A classically-trained musician, Pappalardi was a deft producer, a multi-instrumental talent, and a skilled composer and arranger. West was a fat kid from Long Island, as raw as Pappalardi was polished. No lesser lights than Peter Townsend, Jeff Beck, and Mick Jagger considered West to be the best guitarist alive at the time. This unlikely pair came together to become the yin and yang of Mountain, feeding off each other’s energy and ideas. The music they created was an incredible blend of guitar-driven hard rock and jazzy improvisation layered upon a blues base. It was as complex as it was exciting, and it won the band a significant following throughout the early part of the 1970s.

The recently released Over The Top covers Mountain’s entire history, from their self-titled debut (ostensibly a Leslie West solo LP) through hit albums like Mountain Climbing! and Nantucket Sleighride to the band’s swansong, 1974’s Avalanche. The familiar songs are all here, cuts like “Mississippi Queen,” “Theme From An Imaginary Western,” “Flowers of Evil,” and “Silver Paper,” as well as lesser-known material and a smattering of live tracks. The band’s ill-fated 1985 reunion album is represented here by a pair of cuts, albeit without the presence of Felix Pappalardi, who had died tragically a few years earlier.

Two new cuts close out the 34 song, two-CD set. Recorded last year by West, long-time Mountain drummer Corky Laing, and Hendrix bassist Noel Redding, the two songs – “Talking To the Angels” and “Solution” – show but a mere fraction of the greatness that was Mountain some twenty years ago. Both feature West’s ever-maturing skills, the slimmed-down ‘90s version of the guitarist still one of the greatest players the world has seen. The new songs are nothing but soulless, pedestrian hard rock, however, missing the spark and the life that the duo of West and Pappalardi brought to their earlier creations. Over the Top is an excellent collection, nonetheless – buy it for the 30 real Mountain cuts and forget those from ‘85 and 1994. (Legacy Recordings, released 1995)

Review originally published by R Squared zine

Archive Review: Little Walter's The Complete Chess Masters (2009)

Little Walter Jacobs was, without argument, the greatest blues harmonica player ever, an instrumental virtuoso that revolutionized the use of the instrument and influenced virtually every harpist that would attempt to follow in his footprints. Sodbusters like Paul Butterfield, Charlie Musselwhite, Rod Piazza, and Jason Ricci were all influenced by Walter’s enormous shadow.

For a while, blues harp master Little Walter was Chess Records’ biggest and best-selling star…bigger than Muddy Waters or Howlin’ Wolf. From 1952 through 1958, Walter ran off a string of fourteen Top Ten R&B chart hits, and even his recordings from the late-50s and early-60s display a dazzling presence, a willingness to take chances, and an uncanny skill as both an instrumentalist and vocalist.

The Complete Chess Masters (1950-1967) collects better than ten-dozen tracks recorded by Walter, including nine previously unreleased performances. Across the five CDs included with the set, Little Walter is accompanied by a veritable “who’s who” of Chicago blues royalty, including Muddy Waters, Willie Dixon, Otis Spann, and Jimmy Rogers.  

The first disc includes some of Walter’s early big hits, including the career-making “Juke,” from 1952. A fluid, swinging instrumental with an easily-recognizable central riff and some tasty six-string fills courtesy of Jimmy Rogers, the song would spend an incredible 20 weeks on the R&B charts. Backed with the soulful “Can’t Hold Out Much Longer,” the single created a blueprint that Chess would follow for much of Walter’s career, featuring an instrumental ‘A’ side backed by a ‘B’ side that would feature Walter’s underrated vocals.

When “Juke” hit the top of the charts, Little Walter ditched Waters mid-tour and, scooping up Junior Wells’ band the Aces, launched his solo career in earnest. Recording with the new band, sessions from late-1952 and early-1953 resulted in another big hit in “Sad Hours.” Paired with T-Bone Walker’s “Mean Old World,” the steady shuffling “Sad Hours” offers the first use of Walter’s unique “warble” method that created a multi-dimensional sound for the instrument.

The second disc kicks off with one of Little Walter’s signature songs (and a blues standard), “Blues With A Feeling.” With Chess Records finally letting him put his soulful vocals up front alongside his instrumental prowess, the song was the perfect framing of mood and performance, drenched in emotion and bristling with energy.

Little Walter’s recording of Bo Diddley’s houserockin’ instrumental “Roller Coaster,” with Diddley himself providing some rattling fretwork alongside Walter’s frantic harp, represented something of a changing of the guards. By 1955, the commercial market was beginning to thin out for blues music as rock ‘n’ roll and rhythm & blues took over the charts. “Roller Coaster” would be the last of Walter’s instrumental hits.

Between 1956 and ‘58, Little Walter recorded a number of tracks that, while standing up with some of his best work, none of it proved to be a commercial success. Bo Diddley and Chuck Berry were Chess Records’ latest stars, and otherwise red-hot songs like the spry instrumental “Flying Saucer” or the hard-driving, Berry-styled rocker “It Ain’t Right” were ignored by record buyers.

In January 1959, Little Walter would record with guitarist Luther Tucker and pianist Otis Spann, producing a number of strong sides, although only one – the smoldering “Everything’s Gonna Be Alright” – would inch midway up the R&B chart. Benefiting from Spann’s rollicking piano-bashing, the song features one of Walter’s most emotional harp performances, the lonesome desperation of his solos matched by his mournful vocals.

Other songs recorded in 1959 showed that, while Walter’s skills with the harmonica remained unsurpassed, his once-expressive voice was slowly being eroded by alcohol. In some instances, his diminished vocal capabilities worked to his advantage, as in the tear-jerking “Blue And Lonesome.” Backed by Freddie Robinson’s hypnotic fretwork, Walter’s low-register vocals define sadness and depression, his blistering harp a reflection of his inner turmoil.

Little Walter’s commercial fortunes continued to decline from 1960 until his death in 1968, and the sessions he was offered became few and far between. Still, there are some treasures to be plucked from Walter’s increasingly obscure recordings. Willie Dixon’s “As Long As I Have You” is a precursor to the British blues-rock that would rise up during the ‘60s, the song full of switchblade guitar and rough-hewn vocals. From one of Walter’s last sessions, in 1967, a final shot of “Juke” recorded with Buddy Guy and Otis Spann would cement Little Walter’s legacy as the greatest.

Yeah, you’ve probably figured out that five discs, featuring better than two-dozen tracks apiece, is a heck of a lot of material to wade through, and you’d be right. Although The Complete Chess Masters (1950-1967) might only appeal to the most rabid of fans, it is also an important historical document. The set provides a portrait of a musical genius in the prime…and decline…of his talent, and it’s a worthwhile addition to the library of any serious blues collector. (Hip-O Select, released March 6th, 2009)

Review originally published by Blurt magazine

Archive Review: Rich Robinson's Paper (2004)

After the Black Crowes went on hiatus back in 2002, guitarist Rich Robinson found himself without a band (and apart from his brother, Crowes’ vocalist Chris) for the first time in 18 years. His first inclination was to put together another band, and Robinson subsequently pieced together the pseudo-jam outfit Hookah Brown and toured the summer “shed” circuit. The same political BS and interpersonal dynamics that pulled the Crowes apart soon infected his new band and Robinson returned home to paint and write songs.

Because he was always overshadowed by his more flamboyant brother, the thought of a Rich Robinson solo album didn’t especially excite anybody but the most hardcore fans. ‘Tis a shame, because Paper – Robinson’s solo bow – is a damn good record. Not earth shaking, not the second coming, but a solid rock ‘n’ roll effort from a typically overlooked guitarist. Robinson wrote all the material here, plays most of the instruments and even took singing lessons to prepare for the recording.

To his credit, Robinson didn’t attempt to replicate the Stonesish swagger of the Crowes’ early recordings on Paper; neither did he try to mimic his brother’s Rod Stewart/Steve Marriott sandpaper vocals. Mostly, Robinson lets his guitar do the speaking, his wan vocals often lost in the mix beneath a swirl of instrumentation. The songs on Paper are a mix of jangling guitar pop and ‘70s-styled rock improvisation with a goodly portion of psychedelic flourishes and a hint of British folk-rock. Think Incredible String Band mixed with the Beatles, throw in some Dream Syndicate and you’ll be in the right ballpark.

Robinson’s songwriting is solid if unspectacular, his lyrics expressive and understated. The music on Paper is appropriately muddy and quite soulful, showcasing Robinson’s instrumental prowess and compositional skills. Paper is a lot better solo debut than anybody might have expected, Robinson clearly surpassing his brother’s recent musical endeavors and finally moving out of the shadow (and commercial expectations) of the Black Crowes to create music on his own terms. (Keyhole Records, released 2004)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

Archive Review: Joe Cocker's Joe Cocker! (1969/2009)

Years before he became the tragic burn-out parodied by John Belushi on Saturday Night Live, Joe Cocker was just another young soul rebel trying to grab the brass ring. The British singer came up through the ranks of various skiffle and jazz-blues bands like many of his contemporaries, but he distinguished himself from the rest of the pack through his gritty, rough-hewn R&B vocals and a car wreck performing style that had him staggering around on stage, flailing his arms in the approximation of a disoriented sand piper, and belting out songs in his best Ray Charles croak.

Cocker’s debut album, 1969’s With A Little Help From My Friends, represented more than just another rocker finding gold with Lennon and McCartney’s songwriting skills. His soulful take on the Beatles tune scored his first Top 40 hit and put Joe Cocker on the pop music map. He followed it up quickly with a similar, sorta self-titled collection, Joe Cocker!, that featured a mix of covers of folks like Dylan, Leonard Cohen, and John Sebastian along with originals penned for the album by Leon Russell.

Because Cocker was a superb stylist, there was very little drop-off in his performances during the months separating his first and second albums. Backed by the Grease Band, a solid group of punters led by keyboardist Chris Stainton and including the six-string skills of guitarist Henry McCulloch, as well as melodious backing vocals by Merry Clayton, Rita Coolidge, and Bonnie Bramlett, Cocker blows through the songs here like runaway freight train.

Several of the tunes featured on Joe Cocker! would become live standards for the singer in the years to follow. Russell’s “Delta Lady” is probably the best-known here, a fine gossamer bit of British soul better known, perhaps, for its soaring chorus and backing harmonies than for Cocker’s stellar vocal performance. Cocker’s take on John Sebastian’s Lovin’ Spoonful gem “Darling Be Home Soon” is pure magic, Cocker perfectly capturing the song’s desire and emotion. A cover of New Orleans R&B legend Lloyd Price’s “Lawdy Miss Clawdy” is a real raver, even if Stainton does end up nicking pieces-and-parts of Alex Chilton’s “The Letter” for his keyboard melody.

Beatles Paul McCartney and George Harrison, impressed with Cocker’s previous take of “With A Little Help From My Friends,” gave permission for the singer to use “She Came In Through The Bathroom Window” and “Something” for Joe Cocker! The former is an unabashed soul-rocker with McCulloch’s imaginative, slightly-twangy fretwork while the latter is a showcase for Cocker’s interpretive skills, his high-flying vocals matched by delicious backing harmonies and Stainton’s half-gospel/half-psychedelic keyboard flourishes; McCulloch also throws in a few choice notes just to lively things up.  

Cocker would go on to find a greater measure of fame and notoriety in the wake of his 1970 Mad Dogs & Englishmen tour, which would yield both an acclaimed film and an album, and which would also help launch Leon Russell’s solo career. By mid-decade, though, due to alcohol, Cocker had become a mere shadow of his former self. He would recover from this stumble and forge a satisfying and moderately successful career, but never again would he reach the Icarus-like heights that he did with Joe Cocker! (Hip-O Select, reissued 2009)

Review originally published by Blurt magazine