Grey, Lex, and the Urban Pioneers

Lex Grey

Heal My Soul

By M.D. Spenser

If you like your blues sung by bold, strong, brassy women, add this CD to your collection at once. 

Lex Grey’s vocals are high-octane and top-notch. And the band, the Urban Pioneers, support her well, with rockin’ guitar, swingin’ clarinet and tasty sax, as the song demands.

Grey and the band are based in New York, and the 10 songs here are mostly reflections on city life and the urban landscape. 

The opening cut, Factory, seems to be the fantasy of someone living in a cramped apartment and longing for more space. Grey sings that she wants to live in a former factory, where all the rooms are big, no one can call her kitchen small, there’s a train set on the floor – “and urinals hanging on the walls.” 

Well, OK, whatever floats your boat. 

Other songs, such as Hobo Soup and Junkman, offer stark portraits of the cityscape. 

Not every cut works as well as the others. Black Stallion – which, yes, is a song about a horse – apparently stayed in the vaults a long time. And there it should have remained. 

But the real thing here isn’t the words. It’s Lex Grey’s hard-edged, oestrogen-fuelled vocals, which follow the in the footsteps of blues belters like Candye Kane, or Shirley Bassey doing Hey Big Spender, or even – dare we say it? – the great Etta James doing almost anything.

Unabashed sexuality infuses every note. You get the feeling Grey could sing from the phone book and make you get up and dance in a way you wouldn’t want your granny to see. 

It appears that so far the band’s audience is primarily regional. It should be global. She’s that good.

CD Review - Tim Lothar & Peter Nande

Two For The Road
Straight Shooter

By M.D. Spenser

From the first notes of this outstanding country Blues album you know it’s going to be fun.

The rollicking beat and wonderfully relaxed feel of it all might make you overlook just how fine the musicianship is. But don’t.

Tim Lothar, originally a drummer, plays a style that’s pure blues yet recognizably his own: He combines fingerpicking, slide, and a drummer’s intricate sense of rhythm.

Peter Nande’s harmonica ranges from dance-quick and happy to as lonesome as a midnight train.

Lothar and Nande have each been named Danish Blues Artist of the Year, but to say that is almost to undervalue them: Who cares that they’re Danish? They should win some W.C. Handy awards: This is the best acoustic Blues album you’ll buy this year.

It’s produced by long-time American Bluesman James Harman—who, one critic has written, “is incapable of making a bad album.” His production (and guest vocals) infuse the outing with authenticity and humour.

One highlight is a cover of the Lovin’ Sam Theard tune, ‘Can’t Get That Stuff No More’ (wrongly attributed here to Tampa Red)—you just have to sing along.

The nine originals are stellar, too, from ‘Slow Train’, a jaunty toe-tapper, to ‘Rough Ride’, which Lothar’s loping drums and staccato guitar give a propulsive feel.

This album proves that Blues don’t come from place of birth: These guys get it. Beginning to end, this album is a damn good time.

Here’s hoping Lonesome Tim and Big Boy Pete tour the UK—soon.

CD Review - The History Of Rhythm & Blues 1925-1942

Various Artists
Rhythm and Blues Records

By M.D. Spenser

This exhilarating compilation covers the period almost from when the Blues were first recorded until Billboard magazine inaugurated its first sales chart for black music, the Harlem Hit Parade.

It runs from a rough and rhythmic field holler to the smooth tones of Lionel Hampton’s vibraphone, and encompasses along the way developments central to modern music: the introduction of slide guitar, the invention of the walking bass, the development of boogie woogie piano, the advent of swing.

This album is a distillation of a four-CD set; as such, it’s an exceptionally strong collection, each of the 25 tracks a discovery, a joy. The liner notes are worth the price in themselves: Well-written and entertaining, they detail not only the history of each artist, but the context of each song.

We hear John Lee “Sonny Boy” Williamson pioneer the single-note lead on harmonica, Tampa Red introduce the guitar-piano Blues combo, Jimmie Rodgers mix Blues and country in a way later taken up by Ray Charles and others.

Great names appear: Robert Johnson, Bessie Smith, Cab Calloway, Count Basie. A number of these songs remain famous, too: 1929’s ‘Roll And Tumble Blues’ has been recorded most recently by Seasick Steve; 1940’s ‘Don’t You Lie To Me’ was covered by the Stones.

But some of the best stuff is more obscure: Arthur “Big Boy” Cruddup’s ‘Mean Ol’ Frisco’ is a treat, as is ‘I’d Rather Drink Muddy Water’ from The Cats and the Fiddle.

The most recent song on the album was recorded more than 65 years ago, but this is no dusty exercise in musicology. This is creative, vibrant music. Even today, it quickens the pulse.

CD Review - Tom Doughty

Have A Taste Of This

By M.D. Spenser

This album of lyrical lap slide guitar is worth your attention.

Tom Doughty, a Cheshire native, mixes originals with covers from an impressive array of sources, including Randy Newman, Bob Dylan and Blind Willie McTell (‘Delia’, which Doughty incorrectly attributes to Rev. Gary Davis).

Doughty’s playing is deft, rhythmic and melodic. He fingerpicks while playing slide and the sound is as smooth and Bluesy as you’re likely to hear anywhere.

His singing is expressive, too—owing more, perhaps, to folk than to Blues.

Did I mention that a motorcycle accident in 1974 left Doughty paralyzed from the chest down, impairing movement in both hands? It’s not really relevant: You don’t hear it in his music.

He can’t move the fingers of his left hand; hence the slide, the open tunings, and the guitar in the lap. He says the strength of his right hand is diminished, too, but you sure can’t hear it in his picking.

Apparently, his guitars hung on his wall looking at him for 10 years until he finally decided he’d find a way play again, even with his diminished movement.

Now, he’s invited to lead workshops on technique. Far better to take Doughty’s music on his own terms, never mind the paralysis.

‘Zimbabwe’, an original, is a bit obvious and ham-handedly political: “Mugabe/Killing machine”, he sings.

But ‘Jitterbug Swing’ is lively and jaunty. And Doughty plays a moving and mournful version of ‘Nobody’s Fault’ (“It ain’t nobody’s fault but mine”).

Just a very, very nice CD.

CD Reviews - Three CDs From Blue Skunk Music

DOUG ADAMZ AND DAN HAYES
Blues Duo

STEVE ROWE
Five

BILL ABEL
One-Man Band

Blue Skunk Music

By M.D. Spenser

With these three enjoyable CDs, Blue Skunk demonstrates again the value of small, independent labels: This is good music we might otherwise never hear.

Judging from its Web site, Blue Skunk has only a half dozen or so artists, but they’re skilled and Bluesy.

Doug Adamz and Dan Hayes, both fine guitarists, offer a stripped-down acoustic set: On some songs the spaces speak as loudly as the notes.

Their guitars blend so seamlessly it’s sometimes hard to tell whether two guitars are playing or just one. Their playing is easy, relaxed and rolling, sometimes augmented by harmonica—pure blues from two guys who are in it for life even if the money’s no good. “When you pawn your guitar it just breaks your heart,” they sing.

Steve Rowe, by contrast, is an electric guitarist, and he’s excellent. On “Five” he offers driving Blues-rock, heavy on the drums, with propulsive base lines.

Rowe really cuts loose on the guitar, but always to augment the song rather than to call attention to himself. Unpretentiously, he lays down some stonking blues. He rocks but remembers the roll.

The feeling ranges from swampy to Bluesy to funky. One song has echoes of Carlos Santana, another sounds like Gary Moore.

Bill Abel is an altogether different kettle of fish: On “One-Man Band” he provides the kind of raw and primal Blues the Fat Possum label brought to prominence.

The album was recorded live, no overdubs; Abel produces an unbelievably full sound for a one-man band.

He plays hi-hat and snare with one foot, bass drum with the other, and both rhythm and lead on guitars—some of which he made from cigar boxes.

His voice is a howl that seems to fit his bear-like appearance—at once a wail of desperation and an affirmation of life.

The songs are filled with noise, clatter and emotion. This music is very much in the style of Seasick Steve, but without Seasick’s pop veneer, if you can imagine that.

Good as they are, these albums could have been better. Abel’s CD is 16 tracks. Rowe’s is 15 tracks, most of them long. Paring down the number of tracks, painful as it might have been, would have resulted in tighter, more compelling albums.

Still, it’s a pleasure to listen to all three of these CDs. We can only hope Blue Skunk continues to bring such worthy artists to a wider audience.

CD Review - The Mountain Firework Company

Samurai
Self-produced

By M.D. Spenser

One of the great joys of being a music lover is stumbling across something as beautiful as this lyrical album of alt-folk. Unheralded, self-produced right down to the photos, this one’s a keeper.

The Mountain Firework Company is a six-piece band of Brits working primarily in an American vein. The sound is full: Guitar, banjo and mandolin are all fingerpicked at once, augmented by a fiddle and anchored by a double bass and tasteful drumming.

The opening cut, ‘Rolling River’ has the feel of John Hartford’s ‘Gentle On My Mind’ or even Harry Nilsson’s version of ‘Everybody’s Talkin’.

But on a deeper level, MFC’s music harks back to the folk that preceded the Blues—it’s not that this has a hint of Blues in it, it’s that the Blues has in it some of this.

The music’s gorgeous, the lyrics poetic. “Those stolen kisses in the moonlight/Were never yours to keep’, Gareth McGahan sings in ‘Love Is A Rose’, a song about love’s mortality.

McGahan wrote all 12 tracks; he’s a superb songwriter. His vocals contain echoes of the great American folk singer Pete Seeger, and the songs feature close harmonies reminiscent of Crosby, Stills and Nash.

But this music is fresh, something all its own. Atmospheric songs in minor keys deal with dark subjects without feeling gloomy. On the title cut the violin adds a Celtic feel. The chord changes are wonderful, the musicianship stellar.

Seemingly out of nowhere has come this gem of an album. Very nice indeed.

CD Review - Mike Markey & Nick Jones

Heads of the Valleys

By M.D. Spenser

One hates to be too negative about this album, because both of these Welch sidemen are highly competent players. But competent can be a damning word in music.

The best bluesmen – all of them – have brought something original to the table. Not so here.

Mike Markey & Nick Jones have backed the likes of Water Trout and Zoot Money. Out on their own on this album, they offer typical prewar two-man Blues: One guy on acoustic guitar and slide, the other on harmonica and vocals.

Jones’ imitations of the guitar styles of Robert Johnson and other old-time greats are skilful. Markey’s harp playing is equally so, although his singing sounds deeply rooted in the white experience.

There are fast songs, slow songs, humorous songs and songs where they perform the old trick of having the slide and vocals track exactly. But nothing makes you sit up and take notice.

They do a cover of ‘Fishin’ Blues’, but if you think this matches Taj Mahal’s version – talk about original personalities – you’re mistaken. Not even close.

The music here, while well-played, is indistinguishable from any number of artists on any number of albums. Something’s missing, and it’s this: Markey and Jones have completely neglected to include anywhere in their music something of themselves.

CD Review - JZ James

The West Memphis Turnaround
Moon Sound

By M.D. Spenser

Listeners who value tasteful musicianship and quiet originality will find much to enjoy on this CD by the German Bluesman JZ James. With his mix of acoustic and electric guitars and his jazzy take on the Blues, James creates mood poems that go down sweet as honey.

The album’s dedicated to the pianoman Eddie Boyd, who fled America and settled in Europe, helping plant the Blues over here. James counts himself among Boyd’s children – metaphorically, we assume. These 11 originals are marked by great chord changes and intricate rhythms that make even slower numbers toe-tappers.

The opening track sets the tone: a gently rolling mix of acoustic and electric guitars topped by mournful harmonica. “I would go home now baby/But I’m a stranger there,” James sings.

There’s a wonderful jazz-Blues tribute to Nina Simone: “But lady why complain/I believe that the songs you sung were not in vain,” he croons. OK, he says “not in wain,” but Bluesmen have always been allowed their idiosyncrasies.

“Ballad of Sallie Mae” tells of the murder of Robert Johnson over up-tempo fingerpicking on one acoustic guitar and percussive strumming on another.

Most songs feature acoustic rhythm, electric lead, tasteful drumming and upright bass, sometimes in a minor key. But the mood varies, as does the tempo; James always keeps our interest. One love song even has an exuberant bluegrass feel.

If you play this when friends are over, sooner or later they’ll prick up their ears and ask, “Who’s that?” Then spread the word.

CD Review - Seasick Steve

I Started Out With Nothing And I Still Got Most Of It Left
Warner Brothers

By M.D. Spenser

What a wonderful album.

Seasick Steve, the former hobo with the gray beard and soup-strainer moustache, burst into national consciousness with his ebullient 2006 appearance on Jools Holland’s Annual Hootenanny. His first solo album, “Dog House Music,” was good. This one’s better.

It’s laced with Steve’s addictive, syncopated Blues playing – single notes serving simultaneously as rhythm guitar and lead. The slide rocks, the hobo references ring true: “I can’t lose what I never had/And you can’t take what I ain’t got,” he sings on the title track.

But the delight is the love songs. Steve seems all rough edges and overalls, yet inside lives a gentle poet and musician.

The single ‘Walking Man’ is acoustic guitar and affecting vocals: ‘If you want me to stay I’ll stash my sleeping roll under your bed/That says more than anything in my life I ever said,” he sings.

‘Happy Man’ starts with acoustic Blues guitar. ‘Oh this life has knocked me down to my knees/And I think it’s time I get a little bit of that promised land,’ Steve croons above a quiet churchy chorus. Then Ruby Turner suggests he put his arms around her – and the song turns into stonkin’ gospel-soul, the backing vocals raucous and joyful. Happy man, indeed.

The transfer to a major label has done no harm. There are drums, backing vocals and guests – Turner, Nick Cave, KT Tunstall. But Steve retains the fierce originality that’s at the core of all good Blues.

And damn fine Blues this is.

CD Review - James Booker

The Lost Paramount Tapes
DJM

By M.D. Spenser

These tapes may have been lost but thank God they were found. This is as entertaining a collection of New Orleans style Blues piano as you’ll ever hear.

James Booker was ebullient, drug-addicted, erratic and alcoholic. But he was in peak form when this 1973 set was recorded.

He’s supported by an all-star New Orleans band, some of whom backed Dr John, so you know there’s some funky stuff comin’ down. But Booker is the reason for these recordings.

At the forefront is his astonishing boogie-woogie keyboard – rhythmic, syncopated and danceable. His soulful singing is icing on the cake.

Here’s betting you’ve never heard ‘Goodnight Irene’ played like this, run through Booker’s funkified filter, with impassioned singing over a rolling piano. He plays ‘Feel So Bad’, made famous by Little Milton, with the treble notes tripping over each other in a waterfall of funkiness. In ‘Junco Partner’, Booker is every bit the equal of Dr. John on both vocals and piano.

Sometimes Booker lets his piano do the talking. His laid-back playing on the original instrumental, ‘Lah Tee Tah’, is so beautiful that, even at 5:43, you’re disappointed when it ends. Don’t put ‘African Gumbo’ on your iPod on public transport because you’ll make a spectacle of yourself. And Booker’s moody piano on Brownie McGhee’s ‘Hole in the Wall’ will bring joy to your heart.

Booker died of liver failure in 1983 at age 43. Nine years later, these tapes, missing almost 20 years, were found.

Hallelujah. This is genius.

CD Review - Pete Gavin

Blues Respect
Alias

By M.D. Spenser

Don’t be put off by the ridiculous orange mohawk Pete Gavin wears in the album photos. This is a fine album featuring mostly Blues with a bit of country thrown in, all propelled by Gavin’s excellent electric slide and harmonica.

But first things first: This Pete Gavin should not be confused with the drummer of the same name. This one is a former physicist who cut his teeth as a musician on the streets of London and is now based in Germany.

There’s some classic Blues on this album, with Gavin’s slide moaning over a bass and drums.

The promotional CD includes no credits, so it’s impossible to tell how many songs are originals. But there’s a mournful and effective reworking of Little Feat’s ‘Willin’’, the truck-driving song.

And Gavin’s version of Leadbelly’s ‘Midnight Special’ is acoustic, but rolling, driven and rhythmic.

Not everything works. The title cut, which opens the CD, is heavy, lugubrious, almost ominous bass-heavy rock – not an auspicious start.

And Gavin shows a few signs of too much club work and not enough time in the studio. Jokey novelty songs – the originals? – can slay a live audience but fail to fully come across on disc. And a fake American southern accent in a spoken bit can convulse a club of beer drinkers but not bear up on repeated listenings.

But that’s a minor cavil. Gavin’s version of ‘It’s My Life’, is all Blues, with hard-ass electric slide, and it alone is worth the price of admission.

CD Review - Ai! Si! Si! Mambo And Latin Flavoured Rhythm & Blues

VARIOUS ARTISTS
El Toro

By M.D. Spenser

Don’t be misled by the title: This CD has little to do with rhythm and blues.

In the mid-’50s, Americans went nuts over the mambo. All across the country, people were gyrating wildly to the strains of Cuban music that presaged today’s salsa. Most songs had the word “mambo” in the title: ‘Mambo Boogie’, ‘Niki Niki Mambo’, ‘Mambo Baby Tonight’ and even ‘Mambo Santa Mambo’.

All the songs collected here were recorded between 1954 and 1957; this CD documents a craze. And as with any craze, it attracted a lot of artists looking to capitalize by superimposing a bit of mambo over their true styles.

Many had not a drop of Cuban blood in them. A number of these songs are doo-wop covered with the thinnest of Latin veneers.

There is some stuff here of interest to Blues fans: Ivory Joe Hunter does a nice job with ‘I Got To Learn To Do The Mambo.’ The Street Singers offer ‘Caldonia’s Mambo’, giving a Cuban flavour to one of B.B. King’s signature tunes.

The great Ruth Brown weighs in with ‘Mambo Baby’, though it’s not her finest moment. The Platters and The Drifters make welcome appearances, too.

A lot of these songs are fun; you can see how the craze developed. But a lot of these songs are similar, too; you can see why the craze petered out.

And the CD is long: At 28 tracks, thatsa lotta mambo.

CD Review - Taj Mahal

Maestro
Heads up

By M.D. Spenser

The incomparable Taj Mahal, who celebrated his 40th anniversary in the business last year, remains as inventive and lovable as ever, as this highly enjoyable album shows.

It opens with ‘Scratch My Back’, the 1966 Slim Harpo hit – upbeat Blues, rowdy and bawdy, with a great beat, killer horns and salacious lyrics. When his baby hits the right spot, Taj squeals with delight, “Oh, you gonna get you a new car! Ooh, you ’bout to get you a new house!”

Then his restless intelligence ranges over a magnificent array of styles – West African, reggae, Blues, New Orleans – never losing his raucous sense of fun.

Guests include Ben Harper, Ziggy Marley and Angelique Kidjo. The backing bands are superb: his own Phantom Blues Band, Ziggy Marley’s Band, Los Lobos and the New Orleans Social Club.

Never one to limit himself, Taj plays guitar, harmonica, ukulele and banjo, all well. ‘Slow Drag’ is an original Blues with Taj playing the melodic lead on banjo – very pleasing.

‘I Can Make You Happy’, another original, is lascivious hard-ass Blues. It doesn’t get any greasier than this: ‘I’m coming over Saturday night, baby/Now you know just what your daddy wanna do’

The Fats Domino song, ‘Hello Josephine’, and the album’s closer, ‘Diddy Wah Diddy’, by Bo Diddly, are joyous stomps.

No one’s done more than Taj over the last half-century to keep the Blues alive. Yet he’s never been bound by genre. If you think that’s a paradox, you just don’t get it.

Maestro indeed.

CD Review - Jeremy Spencer

In Session
Secret

By M.D. Spenser

Some fine acoustic resonator slide graces this album, but there are clunkers among the high notes.

Jeremy Spencer is best known as the guitarist who deserted Fleetwood Mac in the middle of a tour in favour of a cult. His musical obsessions – now, as then – are rockabilly and Elmore James.

Four of the album’s 14 tracks are by James, the great Bluesman, and they are by far the best. ‘Red Hot Mama’ features Spencer and his relaxed, easy slide, backed only by a fine Blues rhythm guitar. Great stuff. At 60, Spencer remains in good voice.

Then there are some 50’s numbers – ‘Sea Of Love’, for example, or Carl Perkins’ ‘Pointed Toe Shoes’ – sung rockabilly fashion, with “huh-uh-huh-huh!” inserted in the middle of words.

The album’s worst numbers are the originals, which are preachy. ‘Bitter Lemon’ is about taking misfortune and making – you guessed it – lemonade. Then there’s the overly defensive song, ‘You Don’t Have To Be Black To Be Blue’. If you want to sing the Blues, just throw back your head and sing ’em – don’t explain why. Let your Blues explain themselves.

Still, the slide is nice, the musicianship good.

Two words of warning. First, six of these 14 songs also appeared on Spencer’s last album, the 2006 Blind Pig release, “Precious Little”. Apparently, Spencer didn’t feel that album sold enough and thought he’d give it another try.

Second, those who care where their money goes should google Spencer. The music’s good but what you’ll find is disturbing.

CD Review - Walter Jr.

The River Club
Gatortone

M.D. Spenser

What begins as an album of minimalist swampy funk has some entertaining tracks – and some you’d want to permanently program your CD player to skip.

Louisiana guitarist Walter Jr. opens this album of 11 originals with the Bluesy, funky title track about a guy who sees a woman “dressed in red oozin’ high-heeled sin” and knows she’s ready for love by how she dances. It features bass, drums and two sparse guitars that concentrate on the staccato more than the sustained. Mix in tasty guitar solos, and it’s a track that augurs well.

But Walter starts to stumble on track four, ‘Never Make It Up’, about how you can’t make up for infidelity. It’s an absolutely gorgeous slow Blues and I would die to hear Etta James sing it. But Walter, whose growl is effective when he bites the words and spits them out, just doesn’t have the voice to carry the song’s sustained, mournful phrases.

The album returns then to enjoyable swamp rock.

But it closes with two egregious religious tracks, just awful. “Jesus Say” begins with a portentous spoken intro, then veers into charitable Christian lyrics like “Jesus say, blessed are the meek/For they shall inherit the earth/Everybody else can just go to hell”. The closing track expounds on how “He holds the lightning in his hand” for six minutes and 20 long seconds.

Bottom line: this CD has eight pretty good songs, one great song poorly sung, and two absolutely horrible ones. Program your CD players accordingly.

CD Review - Irma Thomas

Simply Grand
Rounder

M.D. Spenser

New Orleans soul singer Irma Thomas was renown in the ’60s for her infectious good humour, not to mention as the woman from whom the Rolling Stones swiped ‘Time Is On My Side’. Now 67, she offers this sweet and mellow album tinged lightly with the regret age brings.

The concept: pair Thomas with some of the best piano players around, including Henry Butler, Norah Jones and Randy Newman.

Her voice sounds wonderful – deep and rich – and she sings within herself: She never did cut loose like Aretha anyway.

The songs range from a new John Fogerty tune all the way back to ‘If I Had Any Sense I’d Go Back Home’, from the Louis Jordan catalogue. Dr. John’s piano on that number is among the CD’s highlights.

The album is graced by hard-earned wisdom lightly worn. ‘Too Much Thinking On My Mind’ is a catchy soul-flavoured number about having too much on her mind to worry about the little things – like bills and the rent.

‘Same Old Blues,” with Marcia Ball, is the Blusiest piece – slow, melancholy, nicely done. A few jazz numbers leaven the mix.

Despite the different players, the album is all of a piece: Thomas’ voice is well to the fore, backed by fine piano sometimes punctuated by upright base and tasteful drumming. On occasion, a fine backing chorus fills out the sound.

These songs don’t grab you by the lapels, but they sure grow on you. This album is subtle, stately, poised – and quite lovely.

CD Review - Missippi Marvel

The World Must Never Know
Broke & Hungry

By M.D. Spenser

This is a half-decent CD buried under the weight of an insulting publicity campaign.

The album features an elderly Bluesman singing in the Delta style, accompanied mainly by just his electric guitar in the manner of Lightnin’ Hopkins. Some tracks include drums; on the best, the Marvel is accompanied also by a second guitar and harmonica.

Besides traditional tunes, the Marvel covers a song by Muddy Waters, after whom he patterns himself vocally; one by Little Walter, a Muddy sideman; and one by Hopkins himself.

The Marvel’s vocals are powerful if a tad grandfatherly. His playing is pleasingly rhythmic, although he hits, as the producer happily observes in the liner notes, “the occasional bum note.”

One can debate what constitutes raw versus polished, but it’s condescending to Blues performers to say that authentic equals bum notes. As John Hammond Jr. told Guitar World when Muddy Waters died: “Muddy was a master of just the right notes."

Speaking of condescending, the publicity campaign claims the Marvel is a 78-year-old who’s never reconciled his Blues with his religion. Fearing rejection by his church friends, he agreed to record this debut only if his identity was never revealed. The label has arranged at least one live performance in which the Marvel played concealed by a makeshift tent.

Sure, I believe that. And Paul is dead.

If you’re hankering for authentic – and skilful – Delta Blues, better to fill your shelves with Hooker, Hopkins and Muddy. The bottom line is that this CD is so-so.