Playing solo and with accompaniment by Clyde Stats (acoustic bass),
Michael Zsoldos
(tenor sax), Joel Smirnoff (fiddle) and Howard Levy (harmonica) he puts on a
show that does not disappoint.
Though no where near as well known as Leo Kottke, Duck Baker, Roy Bookbinder or the late John Fahey, for example, Asbell’s consummate mastery of blues, folk, early jazz and olde-timey
music warrants his name being mentioned in the same breath as his esteemed
predecessors.
14 varied selections ably show the width and breadth of Asbell’s tenacious musical curiosity, from the achingly beautiful version of the Bernstein/Sondheim “Somewhere” from Westside Story to Fats Waller’s “Ain’t Misbehavin’” to the British folk music of “St. Brendan’s Fair Isle/St. Anne’s Reel.” As expected and hoped for, the blues is prominently and robustly represented. “Parker’s Mood” finds the immortal be bopper’s sultry blues ballad recast as Robert Johnson may have played it, but with sophisticated substitutions and Levy blowing his “horn” like Gabriel with shades and a goatee. “Fishin’ Blues,” credited to Henry Thomas and Taj Mahal, features Asbell’s understated, countrified vocals over his solo fingerstyle picking that he describes in the liner notes as Henry “Ragtime Texas” Thomas meeting Bahamian guitarist Joseph Spence.
The original “Fool Me Just Once” uses a goodly chunk of “Good Morning Little Schoolgirl” and is a virtuoso solo performance. Lil Son Jackson’s “Gambling Blues” is a nasty piece of solo work, with echoes of John Lee Hooker’s haunting early boogie numbers, that Asbell sings with conviction (Disclaimer: he denies in the notes ever having a gambling problem). Though famously turned into a rockabilly classic by some hillbilly cat from Memphis, Little Junior Parker’s “Mystery Train” is exposed as a marvelous chugging and puffing country blues. Closing out the set is a striking version of Freddie King’s classic instrumental “Hide Away.” Though it is rumored that music stores in Texas put up signs with the song title having a red line drawn through it, Asbell’s take pays homage to his amperaged Chicago roots while presenting his daunting skills at making the original combo blues into a strutting solo showcase with Levy getting gleefully down and dirty.
Country Joe and the Fish once had an album called Electric Music for
the Mind and Body. Substitute “acoustic” for “electric” and you have a pretty darn good idea of what is in store for you with Roots and Branches.
Dave Rubin
The Band, The Band (Eagle Vision DVD)
“Everything seemed to be righteous.” Levon Helm’s pithy explanation of how The Band was able to create the extraordinary music for their eponymously titled 1969 album is probably as good as any. Blending authentic blues, country, folk and early rock ‘n’ roll influences into convincing original music that seemed timeless would also be accurate. As The Band, part of Eagle Vision’s Classic Album DVD series reminds us, this seminal recording has achieved nearly legendary stature in the intervening 35 years, and legends defy easy understanding. However, this affecting,
remarkably intelligent track-by-track exploration of the album is up to the task. This is a musicians’ movie, happily avoiding both the Ken Burns “Big Idea” and the slick MTV rock doc approaches to the subject.
There are the obligatory grainy home-movie images of the Big Pink house in upstate New York and black-and-white Depression-era footage of rural America to provide visual context (along with some striking archival footage and photographs taken during the recording of the album). But most of the film’s 75-minute running time is devoted to detailed reconstructions of how each track was produced and recorded, narrated by The Band’s surviving members and the album’s co-producer, John Simon. This often happens literally, with Simon, Helm or guitarist Robbie Robertson seated at a mixing console. Each track is in turn used to discuss a particular aspect of the album – “Up on Cripple Creek,” for example, for its unusual instrumentation, “Rockin’ Chair” for the harmonies, “Whispering Pines” for Richard Manuel’s vocal style. Segments are intercut with mostly insightful observations from Eric Clapton, George Harrison and others (the superfluous digressions – Is The Band the musical equivalent of Steinbeck and Faulkner? Can Canadians really write American music? – are kept to minimum). Of particular note is an extended virtual talking-heads discussion by Clapton, Harrison, Don Was and Robertson on Robertson as a guitar player (“It’s not what you’re playing; it’s what mood you’re playing,” notes Robertson, who acknowledges the strong influence of a “Curtis Mayfield attitude” on his playing).
Fans of the group and Robertson may know that he cut his chops playing American roots music with Ronnie Hawkins and should know that he once benefited from “lessons” from Roy Buchanan. Though he can go toe-to-toe with virtually any blues guitar hero around, as he so aptly demonstrated in The Last Waltz where he took the full measure of Clapton on “Further Up the Road,” in The Band he generally opted for the opposite approach: “I want songs to be built around the song rather than guitar playing. I’d been there (jamming). It was time to reshuffle the deck, to do something completely different, completely song-oriented music.” His discussion of his particular style of playing that he likens to Johnny Cash and Merle Travis, “sort of ragtime-ish, half finger-style, with open strings, something that can’t be done on the piano,” is a treat for guitarists.
In the end, what made The Band unique? “We didn’t listen to anything else,” ventures Simon. “We didn’t care what was on Sergeant Pepper or Pet Sounds. We liked them, but we were just in isolation.” But again, maybe Helm says it best: “There were no rules, and it felt good.”
David (Guitar Senior) Cudaback
Little Charlie and the Nitecats Nine Lives (Alligator)
Nine Lives is the ninth album by this eclectic band, and right from the joyous
horn-propelled opener “Keep Your Big Mouth Shut,” it’s evident that the band is in top form. Rick Estrin’s low growling vocal is buoyed by the punctuating horns, while Little Charly Baty lets rip with some fiery and melodic lead work. Better still is the fast-paced “Handle with Care” which highlights all of the band’s strengths from Estrin’s wailing harp through the wonderfully jazzy backbeat and Baty’s sophisticated guitar work. His solo on this track really is superb as he puts a harder edge on his stinging tone and builds his runs in intensity before the
solo ends and the band slips expertly back into verses. Baty really is an amazing player who manages to excite and dazzle without over playing or being flash for flash sake. As always the band mixes it up musically, melding Texas swing, jump blues, Chicago blues, jazz and rockabilly in their own inimitable fashion.
Not only are they all great players, but they write remarkably entertaining and original material: witness the upbeat retro-sound of “Got To Have A Job,” “Don’t Cha Do Nothin’” and “Cool Johnny Twist.” The latter boasts an almost spoken vocal from Estrin while the band lays down a smoldering blues backbeat and Baty fires off an economical solo. The aptly titled “Tag (You’re It)” is one of three instrumentals on the disc. This upbeat jazz workout serves to give each member a chance to solo (including guest piano player Chris Shebert) and each man does so tastefully.
There’s really not a bad track on this uplifting disc which ends, appropriately, with the blistering instrumental “Slap Happy.”
Mick Skidmore
Chris Beard Live Wire (NorthernBlues)
Chris Beard will whomp you upside your head with his music and you will love every second of it if you are a fan of the blister-string school of guitar. Notes gush from his distorted axe like water over Niagara Falls (Beard is from nearby Rochester, N.Y.), especially on the lengthy, fret-frying, two-part “Tribute to Luther Allison” by Lucky Peterson. Inasmuch as numbers 1-9 on his self-produced Live Wire are live, Beard gives the audience in the club and listeners at home the full measure of his “blues power.” Whether this approach to blues guitar started with Buddy Guy, who was a visitor to the Beard home, or Stevie
Ray Vaughan, it
has found many adherents over the years.
Of course, it’s not how many notes you play, but which ones, and how you play
them. In the epic, original slow minor blues “It’s Over” (parts 1, 2 and 3
combined for 14:52) reminiscent of Guy’s “I Smell A Rat,” Beard contrasts
relatively restrained passages with jackhammer alternate picking that threatens
to overwhelm the comparatively delicate backing. Flashing a sense of humor among
the dead serious soloing however, he cleverly and spontaneously works in a lyric
in “Part 2” about having broken a guitar string and having to pick up another
guitar.
The studio recordings that comprise tracks 10-15 are no less energetic and only
slightly shorter, though the horn section adds texture and Beard’s
barrel-chested, occasionally flat vocals are more to the fore. Luther Allison’s
“A Change Must Come” is a welcome “change” as the jazzy, minor key groove offers
a break from the funk blues and slow blues that appear in the live section of
the set. Likewise “Lock My Dreams,“ one of three excellent Dennis Walker
compositions, is a downright laid back ballad featuring Beard oozing soul from
his lips and guitar as he relates his tale of unrequited love.
Beard is a talent who will not be denied, though he would benefit from an
independent producer with the power to rein in his excessive tendencies of
wanting to take almost every tune to the limit. Less is more would still leave a
ton of great music to digest. Dave Rubin
Popa Chubby Big Man Big Guitar Popa Chubby Live
(Blind Pig)
This live set from Popa Chubby is culled from three performances in France. Despite the fact that the shows span three years, the oldest being from June 2001 and the most recent March 2004, the album manages to come across as a cohesive and energetic concert document. Anyone who has seen Chubby live will attest to the energy and exuberance of his performances and this set captures that well, while also featuring some of finest recorded guitar work to date. Chubby approaches the blues from a rock perspective and with a sense of reckless abandon that makes for some refreshing twists on classic
music. This is especially evident on his artful interpretation of Willie Dixon’s “Back Door Man” with its looping soulful groove and funky guitar fills.
There’s obviously a lot of Hendrix influence in Chubby’s playing, but he adds some distinctive twists to a cover of “Hey Joe,” especially in the first solo prior to the vocal and in the delicate fills. In the hands of Chubby almost any song can be turned into a blistering, New York City blues/rocker. In this set he covers material by Leonard Cohen (“Hallelujah”) Neil Young (“Motorcycle Mama”) and A.P. Carter’s “Keep on the Sunny Side,” and all work surprisingly well. The latter is given an explosive, in-your-face, punky, rocking treatment. The balance of the album is made up of Chubby originals including familiar favorites like “How’d A White Boy Get the Blues,” “Sweet Goddess of Love” and the rollicking rock ‘n’ roll of “If The Diesel Don’t Get You The Jet Fuel Will.” Surprisingly the highlight of the album is one of the more subtle tracks, “I Can’t See the Light of Day,” in which he offers some extended soloing and one of his best vocals of the disk. In addition, Chubby’s production on his album is sonically quite superb.
Mick Skidmore
Little Milton Think of Me (Telarc)
It was likely the 20-year association with the Southern soul label Malaco that caused the legendary Little Milton Campbell to fly under the radar of most blues fans. Of course, it gave him access to the “silent majority” of the contemporary black audience and a new signature song in “The Blues Is Alright.” Now, with his 12 song debut produced by Jon Tiven and Randy Labbe on Telarc, he has taken a major step towards crossing back over while still retaining his loyal fans, if “The Blues is My Companion,” to name just one new tune, is any indication.
A prime candidate for classic status, the gently swaying slow blues showcases Campbell’s sonorous, gospel-influenced baritone along with his warm, incisive guitar that contains a surprisingly tart diminished run. “Reconsider Me” is a dramatic minor key blues reminiscent of Albert King’s “I’ll Play the Blues for You” and features Campbell’s patented round, midrange guitar tone that he manipulates into heartfelt, pleading lines. “That’s Where It’s At,” the closing track, really brings it all back home with an “I’m Ready”-type groove and insistent licks that loop over and around the progression.
Scattered among the remaining selections are soul and R&B numbers equally worthy of a listen, including deeply expressive and powerful musical statements like “Gone with the Wind,” the funky, wah-driven “Next to You” and the cathartic “Second Hand Love” that focus primarily on the singer and the song. Nonetheless, with Campbell leading a team of guitarists that also features Tiven throughout and Peter Shoulder on three tracks, there is no shortage of fine fretwork to admire.
Jon’s wife Sally provides indispensable bass support in a band that features other top-flight backing musicians including Bruce Katz (organ), Chuckie Burke, Billy Block and Per Hanson (drums) and Ellis Hooks and Scat Springs (backing vocals) and Mark Sorrells (piano). Though not the blues guitar landmark that Little Milton Sings Big Blues was in 1966, for example, Think Of Me should be heeded by fans of this giant of the genre.
Dave Rubin
Kirk Fletcher Shades of Blue (Delta Groove)
You’ve got to hand it to the West Coast. From the late Hollywood Fats to Junior Watson to Nick Curran, the left coast scene has produced some of the most exciting guitar-driven blues of recent times. Prepare to add one more name to this vaunted group: Kirk Fletcher.
On his latest release, Shades of Blue, he delivers exactly what most blues fans are looking for in a modern blues album - respect for the past with a foot in the future. The story goes that Fletcher got hooked
on the blues by repeatedly listening to a copy of B.B. King’s Live At The Regal, and it’s clear that he has mastered many of the licks and sonic booms of the blues heyday. To put it simply, the kid can flat out play.
Fletcher mixes up guitar styles rather well and is not afraid to let his influences show. Whether playing a jazzy instrumental in the style of Duke Robillard (“Blues for Boo Boo”, “Club Zanzibar”) or old-school T-Bone Walker licks, you can tell that he has studied and lifted from the best. On several tracks he employs a tactic that would prove smart for any young bluesman: If given the chance, work with Kim Wilson. The blues veteran’s incredible harp playing adds real guts to these tracks, and his lived-in vocals are the perfect complement to Fletcher’s guitar. Several other artists contribute vocals as well, including Finis Tasby who channels the vocal tone of a young B.B. King on his four appearances.
The standout tracks are too numerous to mention, but the real highlight is the young guitar slinger’s take on a reworking of “Worried Man Blues.” He borrows Elmore James’ famous “Dust My Broom” riff and tone and makes the tune absolutely soar. I dare you too keep your ass in your seat when this track cues up on the disk.
Kirk Fletcher is a real beacon of hope for those of us looking for the next great blues guitar player. And this album, along with several others from the Golden State, just goes to prove that you can play the blues in the land of Manifest Destiny.
Dan Trink
Ryan Hartt & the Blue Hearts, Yeah Man! (Far-Tone
Records)
According to one of the iron laws of R&B songwriting, when you catch your woman “runnin’ ‘round all over town” (sometimes rendered, “messin’ ‘round town”), you will inevitably, like day follows night, soon be “puttin’ her down.” So when the songwriter builds his lyrics on this and other blues chestnuts (e.g., “You’re doin’ me wrong/So I’ll be gone”), is he relying on cliché or simply paying his respect to tradition? The question comes up throughout Yeah Man!, the second album from Ryan Hartt and the Blue Hearts, four bluesmen from New England who style themselves flame-keepers of “the classic sounds of 40s, 50s and early 60s blues styles.” Vocalist and harp player Hartt and his guitarist, Eric Ducoff, have penned a dozen of the CD’s 15 songs, and Hartt may have inadvertently answered the question in his “Hangover Blues,” where he observes, “Whiskey and women, you’ve heard it all before.”
Indeed we have, but if lyric originality isn’t necessarily this group’s strong suit, they have definitely nailed the “classic sounds” part of the equation. Although nominally a jump blues band, this tight quartet can slip from one genre to another – including all manner of blues to roots rock to jazz – with remarkable authority. Along the way they demonstrate an impressive understanding of influences as diverse as Slim Harpo, Bo Diddley, Jimmy Smith, Chuck Berry and Buddy Guy. Much of the burden is shouldered by Ducoff, and some the band’s best work on this album are instrumentals featuring the guitarist playing his own compositions with guest Mark Stevens on keyboard. Ducoff’s growling, fuzzy licks are the centerpiece of his “Deep to Left,” a big, driving swing track; he, Stevens and drummer Nick Toscano mesh perfectly on “I Thought You Went,” a textbook organ trio jazz number. And even if front man Hartt does flirt with cliché on “Hangover Blues,” he and Ducoff together achieve a heartbreakingly bluesy sound that more than redeems the track.
As a bonus, the album also features a guest appearance by guitarist Junior Watson, who puts his vaunted West Coast swing stamp on three tracks, including “Boogie Guitar,” an instrumental duet with pianist Stevens, and a hard-rocking cover of a Dave Bartholomew tune, “Due Unto Others.”
David (Guitar Senior) Cudaback
Little Freddie King You Don’t Know What I Know
(Fat Possum)
For most blues fans the name Freddie King conjures up images of soaring single-string solos, a passionate, keening voice and a guitar style that epitomizes Texas blues. Ironically, Little Freddie King’s music possesses none of these qualities. Living in a rundown apartment in the bad part of town, the ulcer-suffering Little Freddie King rides a rickety bicycle to his day job, fixing old televisions. He’s been shot several times - once by his own wife. Obviously this man’s got tons of blues street cred. But does a good back-story make for good music? Well, the answer here is yes and no.
On You Don’t Know What I Know, King follows the age-old rule: sing about what you know. Songs about drinking, partying, being world-weary and crack heads dominate the disk. King’s weathered voiced and over-driven guitar give the tunes a real sense of authenticity. And the additional drums, bass and, particularly, harmonica playing from his band really add some jump to the proceedings.
However, the album sonically and lyrically breaks very little new ground. These are the same themes and the same rhythms that King’s Fat Possum label-mates have been banging out for years. One can’t help but think of the vamping chords of Robert Belfour or the world-weary lyrics of Junior Kimbrough when spinning this disk. But, as with all things, there are exceptions and this disc has two of them. “Looking For My Woman” and “Chicken Dance – Remix” puts King’s distorted guitar in the hands of a what seems to be a hip-hop producer who layers the tracks with various beats and effects. Although this type of departure is sure to anger the blues purists, it does add a new and current dimension to the typical Mississippi Hill Country stomp.
If heavy grooves about drug dealers and dime-a-day laborers are your deal, than you’ll find a lot to like in Little Freddie King. But if you’re looking for the next “Hide Away” or “I’m Tore Down”, you’re barking up the wrong tree.
Dan Trink
Rick Payne Rick Payne’s Fingerstyle Blues
(Instructional book w/ CD from Acoustic Music Books)
This 48-page book from England’s respected Acoustic Guitar Workshop is one of the best learning tools on the subject this blues guitar author has had the pleasure of reviewing. Fingerstyle blues specialist Rick Payne (See Payne’s article on blues scales in Bluesville) has wisely created a method that will appeal to beginning and intermediate pickers. The 68 examples, each with accompanying audio track, start quite basic with a steady quarter note bass pulse and simple treble licks on the beat. Gradually and logically, syncopation is introduced along with incrementally advanced bass patterns. Payne’s greatest strength as a teacher is that he makes it look and sound easy (of course, it’s not), and then leaves you convinced that it is!
All of the examples are in standard tuning. Within this parameter Payne manages to suggest the music of the giants of the genre, including Charley Patton, Skip James, Son House, Honeyboy Edwards, Mississippi John Hurt, Lightnin’ Hopkins and many others. In addition, Robert Johnson, Big Bill Broonzy, Muddy Waters, Blind Lemon Jefferson and even Doc Watson are singled out for special attention. Delta stomps and shuffles, ragtime and boogie woogie
are covered as well as specific elements of blues guitar technique such as
turnarounds, string bending and slides (glissandos). Bonus tracks 69-74 feature
Payne singing and playing with authority on a selection of excellent original
blues numbers, including two sporting bottleneck guitar.
The mastery of fingerstyle blues is a lifelong journey that takes dedication and
perseverance. With Rick Payne as your companion and mentor, the trip will be
made that much more enjoyable. Dave Rubin
Watermelon Slim Up Close and Personal (Southern
Records)
Let’s give credit where credit is due. Bill “Watermelon Slim” Homans is one guy who is dedicated to the blues. Despite having both dual undergraduate degrees and a masters to his credit, Homans has spent the last 30 years of his life driving a truck along with other blue-collar jobs in order to be able moonlight as a blues performer. His dedication has finally been rewarded. His first release for the Southern Records label and a nomination for Best New Artist Debut at the 2005 Handy Awards have allowed him to take his hands off the wheel of that old truck and keep them around his resonator guitar full time.
Up Close and Personal is a rather minimalist affair with Slim often accompanying his voice solely with a harmonica or his National steel guitar. His slide work is solid and rather reminiscent of the older, more traditional styles. Think Muddy Waters rather than Eric Sardinas. His flashiest performance comes on the cover of the Howlin’ Wolf classic “Smokestack Lightnin,’” and though Slim cannot match Wolf’s intensity, he proves he is no stranger to good slide tone. The subject matter on the originals is just what you would expect from a man with Slim’s experiences. There are plenty of lyrics about the open road, freightliners, trucks and relationships lost. And even though one could argue that Slim is one of the most literate men in the blues today, he keeps the lyrics straightforward and relatable.
Unfortunately, good tone and lyrics the common man can understand cannot trump Slim’s real weak point: his vocals. His delivery often comes off as weary, but not in the good way. And when he strays away from the blues, as on the track “Bridgebuilder,” which is written and performed as some sort of modern hybrid of a traditional African field holler, his voice just can’t keep up. It’s actually so tough to listen to, you’ll be diving for the fast forward button.
In the end, Bill Homans is the type of guy you want to root for – a true blues underdog story. But, ultimately, there’s not too much on this album to cheer for.
Dan Trink
Johnny “Guitar” Watson Johnny “Guitar” Watson in Concert (inakustic
DVD)
To paraphrase the title of one of his later works, the stone legendary Johnny “Guitar” Watson was a “real mother.” Along with his equally “bad” running buddy, Guitar Slim, he was one of the few postwar electric blues guitarists to not fall under the pervasive influence of B.B. King. Instead, he opted for a hard, jagged style that complemented his raspy vocals. He and Slim, who would dye his hair blue or green, often did gigs together, taking turns riding on each other’s shoulders as they strolled through the audience with extra long guitar cables. A lot changed since those days, however, and by the 1970s he had fled the “chitlin’ circuit” for good and reinvented himself as a flashy funk man. He never looked back again.
The 75-minute DVD presents an amazingly trim, shirtless, Watson with flowing tresses flashing his finest “superfly” persona in front of a big, responsive R&B band as recorded in Baden-Baden, Germany in 1990, six years before his premature death of heart failure at age 61. The opening pop/soul track, “Strike On Computers,” is a clever tirade on the digital revolution where Watson mentions a guitar that “plays itself” as he sings sans instrument. “Superman Lover” that follows sounds like it could have been written for Stevie Wonder when he was on Motown. Midway through, however, he straps on a Gibson ES-335 with a wireless transmitter and the clock rolls back for a few minutes. Hopping the stage, he boogies through the delighted crowd while his band vamps, snapping percussive jabs from his axe, sounding uncannily like a honking tenor sax, before humping it good-naturedly in a move Hendrix surely copped.
“I Wanna Ta Ta You Baby” and “Nothing Left To Be Desired” continue in a similar slick black pop vein with audience participation and some more teasing guitar from Watson. In the funky “Ain’t That A Bitch” from 1976, however, he lets loose with an extended solo of jazzy, saxy licks in the lower register that hint of what he could do if motivated beyond showmanship. “Here’s A Real Mother For Ya” from 1977 shows the funkster in full “Shaft” mode as he yanks throaty, pugnacious blues licks from his 335 with bare fingers.
Coming back for his encore, Watson finally takes us where we want to go with his slow blues classic “Three Hours Past Midnight.” Runs that bespeak a lifetime in the blues tumble from his fingers, intensified by behind-the-beat vocals that cannot be learned from a book. Warming to the task at hand, he launches into his famous “Gangster of Love” with a swinging intro. The up tempo shuffle ends too soon, but do not despair. Following another encore of “A Real Mother For Ya” featuring a snappy, snarly solo and apparently taken from a different show on the same day, a bonus “extended “ version of “Gangster” from 1987 at the same venue makes for a fascinating performance. Watson’s spoken intro with siren effects courtesy of a drumstick used like a bow, along with other sly and “fly” tricks, is alone worth the cost of admission.
Dave Rubin
Kenny (Blues Boss) Wayne, Let it Loose (Electro-Fi
Records)
This album is a revelation – not only for its truly exciting piano-driven blues and R&B, but also as a showcase for some of Western Canada’s best blues and jazz talent. The star of the show is, of course, Kenny (Blues Boss) Wayne. A baker’s dozen tracks, including 10 original songs, demonstrate that, like Otis Spann, Fats Domino and Mac (Dr. John) Rebennack, Wayne is the kind of piano virtuoso and singer who belongs in front of the band. And while his well-earned claim to fame is as a master of boogie woogie, also on display here are some credible soul and pop ballad credentials.
As the disc’s producer, Wayne has also assembled 10 other superb musicians (including three different drummers, two tenor players and three guitarists) and mixed and matched them, depending on style and material, into changing quartets and quintets so that each track has a distinctive sound. There are common threads, to be sure: In addition to Wayne’s keyboard and voice, all cuts are built on a smooth, reliable bass line – here acoustic, there electric – laid down superbly by onetime B.B. King bassist Russell Jackson. Yet “Let it Loose,” the heavily 50s-R&B-infused title track that prominently features Steve Hilliam’s yackety sax, bears no resemblance to “Joogie to the Boogie” with Pat Carey’s lush swing jazz tenor.
Most of the guitar work falls to Yukon-born, Vancouver-based Brandon Isaak. This outstanding young player is a comer. He provides stinging slide backup to Wayne’s blues piano on “Mean Streak” and “Be a Man,” but is equally adept at big, rich jump riffs on tracks like “Blueberry Wine.” Somewhat underused on this album is another fine Canadian axeman, Dave “Double D” Dykhuizen, who does well-crafted rhythm duty on two tracks.
In his liner notes, Wayne gratefully acknowledges the contributions of his sidemen. We should thank the Blues Boss for bringing this remarkable ensemble together.
David (Guitar Senior) Cudaback
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