CD Odyssey Disc 1862: Albert King

Welcome back, dear readers. I’ve had an exciting week of discovering new music, enjoying live shows and getting tickets to future live shows. As Frank Zappa once said, “music is the best!” Since you’re here, I assume you agree.

Disc 1862 is…Born Under a Bad Sign

Artist: Albert King

Year of Release: 1967

What’s up with the Cover? A collection of five ‘bad signs’. From L or R we have poison, a black cat, Friday the 13^th, the ace of spades and snake eyes.

I take issue with the inclusion of poison, which isn’t a bad sign so much as it is a warning that says “don’t drink this!” or, in different circumstances, “have your enemies drink this!”.

Also as a fan of a) cats and b) Dan Marino, I take issue with the inclusion of the cat and the number 13.

Nevertheless this makes for a pretty great record cover, regardless of how you feel about cats, numbers, poisoning of one’s rivals or even Wild Bill Hickok for that matter.

As for that last one, as the kids say – IYKYK.

How I Came To Know It: My friend Chris brought some songs from this record to a music appreciate night we attended as part of a set list featuring Donald “Duck” Dunn on guitar (who also plays on this record). I liked what I heard a lot and…here we are.

How It Stacks Up: This is my only Albert King record, so it can’t stack up. It is, however, released by Stax records, so it does ‘Stax’ up. Get it? Get it? Man, I crack myself up.

Ratings: 5 stars

If you listen to as much music as I do (i.e. a lot) you have heard plenty of people wank away on an electric guitar. And there are plenty of great players out there – Buck Dharma, Mark Knopfler, Brian May, etc. At the same time, as years go by it gets harder to impress me. Then along came Albert King. Consider me impressed.

When it comes to the blues, everyone fancies themselves a first-rate axeman, and you can get some unwelcome noodling and enough excessive blue notes to make even an enthusiast blue. It is every bad bar band you ever half-listened to because it happened to be on when you ducked in for a beer, or maybe just to pee.

Not so, Albert King. Every goddamn note King plays is purposeful, expressive and powerful. His guitar sounds like an apex predator, stalking these songs, slaying the chord progression and filling the empty space between attacks with purposeful growls.

And good God man, the tone! Notes boldly arcing through the night and into your body, making your spine twist in directions you didn’t know it could, and that feel so good. This being 1967, the majority of these songs hover between two and three minutes long, the effect being you are consistently left wanting more.

Like Jimi Hendrix, Albert King played a right-handed guitar upside down which is, for lefty players like me, extra cool. I play a left handed guitar built for lefties, but then I am not remotely as cool as Albert King.

As for the songs themselves, inspired stuff all around, and focused on all those usual bluesy topics. The title track being about how sometimes you just start out unlucky – although hard to feel sorry for Albert King in the moment, as that song is revelatory.

Alongside these we have the usual tunes bragging about the singer’s prowess in the bedroom. You can get this straight up (“Crosscut Saw”), a bit on the creepy stalker side (“The Hunter”) and my personal favourite, “Personal Manager” which is…er…service oriented. Best line:

“Yeah I want to be your milkman every mornin'
Your ice cream man when the day is through”

The Blues also often feature “cheat on me and regret it” tunes, and “Born Under a Bad Sign” has one of the greatest ever in “Laundromat Blues”. In this song, our protagonist has noticed that his lady is spending a lot of extended time at the laundromat ostensibly washing “a blouse or two” and likely hooking up with someone somewhere between the wash and spin cycles. Best line of this one:

“Yeah, you better hear my warnin'
I'm gettin' madder everyday
I don't want you to get so clean, baby
You just might wash your life away”

Because what’s an old blues album without a song featuring some threat of jealous domestic violence? I would advise the narrator to employ a marriage counsellor or divorce attorney instead, but I’m pretty sure this is one of those Biggy Smalls style “you don’t hear me, though” moments and he’s gonna do something that lands him the slammer.

Dark themes or romantic, Albert King’s smooth and sexy vocals are ever-present, as is some of the greatest guitar playing ever heard by human ears. If this isn’t the greatest blues record I’ve ever heard, it is certainly in the conversation.

Best tracks: All tracks, but if you only listen to one then the title track is “must hear before you die” level stuff. That said, if you only listen to one track on this record you are, sadly, an idiot.

CD Odyssey Disc 1606: Muddy Waters

My weekend started off in lovely fashion, catching up with some of my oldest friends (most from university days) enjoying a steak dinner a good conversation and a few drinks raised in fellowship.

Disc 1606 is…His Best: 1947-1955

Artist: Muddy Waters

Year of Release: 1997, but with music from 1947-1955

What’s up with the Cover?  Giant Head Cover returns! Here we have Muddy Waters’ giant head, looking sinister.

That’s a joke for the heraldry nerds.

How I Came To Know It: I had heard of Muddy Waters for years but it wasn’t until my friend Casey put some on for me one evening that I properly turned my attention to his work (Muddy, not Casey). One of the best gifts is the gift of musical discovery so thanks, Casey!

How It Stacks Up: This record is a compilation of music spanning eight years and so, by CD Odyssey rules, can’t stack up.

Ratings: Compilation records don’t get rated, but if they could be this one would be perfect.

There are times on this blog where I struggle with defining an album. Is it indie folk, with a hint of pop? Hard rock edging up on heavy metal? With Muddy Waters there is no confusion. This man is the blues and only the blues. Blues so pure and deep they well up from the soul like a geyser of oil, rich and grimy.

I don’t always get the blues, and I sometimes find it a bit repetitive. Of course, that is part of its charm; kicking your soul down into a groove which is simultaneously celebratory and full of pain. The blues is singing in a storm, dancing at a funeral, and shouting at the moon while lost on a moor.

While my first love of the blues is Howlin’ Wolf, there is no denying Muddy Waters is objectively the pinnacle. That warbling, deep, half-slurred delivery (occasionally punctuated with a falsetto shriek) is about as good a vocal performance as you will ever hear in this world or the next. If you are wondering what song I am referring to here, the answer is “all of them”.

Frequent readers will know I can’t abide a record with more than 14 tracks on it, but this collection of tunes from Waters’ heyday has 20 and just left me wanting more. I wouldn’t cut a single tune off the album. I don’t know enough about his catalogue to judge if these are “His Best” as advertised, but it is hard to imagine there are 20 better ones.

The guitar work on the record is great, and I was equally happy with Muddy (earlier tracks) and Jimmy Rogers (later tracks). They are different, with Muddy playing a bit more spare and Rogers, ironically a bit more “muddy.” Both are great accompaniments to Waters’ vocals.

The thing that surprised me more was how much I enjoyed the other players. Ernest “Big” Crawford on the bass is amazing, and no doubt an inspiration to all kinds of music that followed, first soul and funk and later rap and hip hop. This music centered deep in the heart, with enough oomph to pump its power across generations. I can still hear it echoing today.

The songs sound timeless, as the blues often do, but most are original compositions of Waters, with a few Willie Dixon classics thrown in for good measure, mostly nearer the end of the period. A blues composition is similar to folk song, in that there is an art to staying firmly within the traditions of the music, while at the same time creating something new. When done right, you can’t tell what era it is from, only that it is awesome.

I love Robert Johnson as much as the next guy, but let’s be honest; that tinny thirties production is irksome. Wouldn’t you love to hear blues this good that didn’t sound like they were recorded in a tin can? Enter Muddy Waters, equal to the talent of his predecessor, but with that high-end Chess production that brings you his deep, rounded tone in all its glory. The guitar and bass shake the floorboards, while Waters vocals roil the air with power that is half playful, half menace.

It all adds up to some of the greatest music ever recorded, and it was my privilege to rediscover it in my collection through what was a very lucky random selection indeed. The only downside is that the Odyssey must roll and tumble its way forward leaving this particularly blessed isle behind for now.

Best tracks: all tracks

CD Odyssey Disc 1454: Howlin' Wolf

If there is a day of the week for the blues, then that day is Monday.

Disc 1454 is…. The Howlin’ Wolf Album

Artist: Howlin’ Wolf

Year of Release: 1969

What’s up with the Cover?  A cheeky disclaimer. Howlin’ Wolf did not like how this album turned out, so the record label went ahead and made that clear on the cover. I don’t know if that’s a blues move, but it is definitely a rock and roll one.

How I Came To Know It: I’ve got a couple of albums that feature famous blues singers paired with late sixties psychedelic rock, this one and Muddy Waters’ “Electric Mud”. My buddy Ross got me one of those (I think ‘Mud’), and it inspired me to go get the other one. Regardless of which came first, Ross is responsible for me having both records so thanks, Ross!

How It Stacks Up: I have four Howlin’ Wolf albums, plus a selection of singles that aren’t associated with any LP. The singles are out, but I’m not sure if it is fair to rank this record with the other three either. It reimagines some of Howlin’ Wolf’s biggest hits meaning it gets to draw on his whole catalogue of awesome, which seems unfair. However, after some reflection I’m going to say…it counts. With this decision made, I rank it at #1.

Ratings: 4 stars

I’m not a huge blues fan but when I do feel the urge, Howlin’ Wolf is the first singer that crosses my mind. He’s got the grimiest vocals of any bluesman I’ve heard, and his songs are overflowing with clandestine sex and open drug use. Wolf is more than gritty enough on his regular blues records but paired with the psychedelic rock sounds of backing band Rotary Connection something magical happens.

For one thing, the record has a lot more oomph. Part of this are the production values. My other Howlin’ Wolf records are from the late fifties and early sixties. They sound pretty amazing, but they don’t have that depth of sound separation that this record holds. The riffs on “Spoonful” and “Evil” would be killer anyway, but the extra thump here gets deep down in your backbone and your guts.

What isn’t new, is Howlin’ Wolf’s instantly recognizable rasp. His voice is like cheap bourbon poured over sandpaper. He lurches from line to line in a way that might make you think he was in a semi-incoherent rage, except for the fact that his timing and phrasing are impeccable. He’s the town menace, and he wears his mantle with pride.

For all that nasty, Howlin’ Wolf always has the curve of a smile at the edges of that raspy snarl of his. On “Smokestack Lightnin’” and “Down in the Bottom” he throws in lascivious falsetto “ooh-hoo”s that are just the right amount of wrong. He is having too much fun to be just plain old mean.

These are all things you’d get on any great Howlin’ Wolf album, and a reminder that his traditional albums are well worth your time. However, Rotary Connection adds a whole new element to this record. Now you get dreamy fuzzed out reverb that floats into ambient guitar work. You even get hints of jazz flute and harmonica. Sometimes the band just sit in behind and lets Howlin’ Wolf hit his groove. Other times they walk the song off in weird and wonderful directions, while always staying within sight of the blues. “Evil” even has a funky Motown influence to the riff that makes it very different than the original version while being just as gloriously…evil.

The majority of these songs (seven of ten) are old Willie Dixon tunes, an artist that Howlin’ Wolf often reimagined, although he probably never thought he’d reimagine him this far. “Tail Dragger” is one such standout, featuring a funhouse of guitar sounds hanging all around the edges of Howlin’ Wolf’s vocal delivery like shreds of cloth blowing in the window of a shanty town cabin, giving the song movement and life.  

And while this album is more about the feel than the lyrics, I’d be remiss not to share some great lines from his cover of Dixon’s “Built for Comfort”:

“Some folk built like this, some folk built like that
But the way I'm built, a-don't you call me fat
Because I'm built for comfort, I ain't built for speed
But I got everything all the good girls need”

Near the end of the album you can hear Howlin’ Wolf pontificating on just what the blues are, and what they’re not. I’m sure he thought this album wasn’t the blues, but I couldn’t care less. Whatever it is, it’s awesome.

Best tracks: Spoonful, Tail Dragger, Built for Comfort, Evil

CD Odyssey Disc 1425: Lucinda Williams

Did I hear someone say “weekend”? Well, here we are. A less pleasant weekend, given the whole partial pandemic lockdown thing, but a weekend none the less.

Disc 1425 is…. Good Souls Better Angels

Artist: Lucinda Williams

Year of Release: 2020

What’s up with the Cover? Lucinda striking her best “alas, my life is full of woe” pose. Does anyone ever actually put their hand to their head like this when thinking sad and overwhelming thoughts?

How I Came To Know It: I have loved Lucinda Williams for years, so this was just me buying her latest release and hoping for the best.

How It Stacks Up: I have 13 Lucinda Williams albums. “Good Souls Better Angels” is a worthy entry into her impressive catalogue. I put it at #7.

Ratings: 4 stars

“Good Souls Better Angels” is pure grit, and the hardest hitting Lucinda Williams album in years.

Williams has always embraced the blues, but on her latest release she delves deep into those structures, adding in a whole lot of reverb and rock snarl. Think late Tom Waits crossed with early ZZ Top, and a bunch of Muddy Waters besides.

There are still some examples of that old folk-rock sound Williams is so good at. “Shadows & Doubts” is a strong example of this, and “When the Way Gets Dark” is another solid folksy track. Fans who come looking for this, won’t be disappointed.

That said, large parts of this record get out the electric guitar out and growl at you. There is feedback and distortion and crunchy riffs, all of which perfectly serve the songs. Both Williams and Stuart Mathis get guitar playing credit, and while I can’t tell who does what, the playing is as powerfully emotive as Lucinda’s vocals, which is saying something. The blues riff on “Bone of Contention” gets right down into your backbone, and then a second guitar wanders into the song with atmospheric purpose over top of that.

“Bone of Contention” could have been the name of the album, with Williams exploring a lot of dark topics, calling more than a few people out in the process. The best of these is “Wakin’ Up” the story of a woman in an abusive relationship taking her power back, and letting that bastard know just how thoroughly a bastard he is in the process. She spits out visceral images that place you at the scene and make you wish you weren’t:

“He threw a punch
Somehow I missed it
I should’ve split
Thought I could fix it
He pulled the kitchen
Chair out from under me
He pulled my hair
And then he pissed on me
Next thing I swear
He wants to kiss on me
Yeah, after all this
He wants to kiss on me.”

Yeesh.

Williams also does some solid exploration of self-doubt and depression. “Big Black Train” is as good a song on the topic as you’ll hear. Compared to some of the other tracks, the song is stripped down and bare, but Williams compelling vocals more than fill the space. Her voice is a desperate plea for relief, as she feels dark thoughts starting to close in on her, reminding her of the terrible places those thoughts have taken her before. The expansion of the “black dog” metaphor to a train is a reminder that when depression gets this bad it doesn’t lope along beside you; it sweeps you up and carries you away.

If I had a quibble, it would be with the title track, which closes out the record. At seven and a half minutes is about three minutes longer than it needs to be. It is one of the albums more uplifting tracks, so maybe Lucinda is trying to balance all that blackness that came before.

If you’re looking for the relaxed sounds of “Essence” or “Car Wheels on a Gravel Road” you won’t find much of it here. With “Good Souls Better Angels” Lucinda Williams has gone back to her roots, then updated it with a whole lot of mosh-worthy crunch.

Best tracks: Bad News Blues, Man Without a Soul, Big Black Train, Wakin’ Up, Shadows & Doubts, Bone of Contention, Down Past the Bottom

CD Odyssey Disc 1412: Mark Knopfler

I love this next artist, but on his last release he almost lost me.

Disc 1412 is…. Down the Road Wherever

Artist: Mark Knopfler

Year of Release: 2018

What’s up with the Cover? A very desolate looking road. I like my roads with a few more curves in ‘em which is one reason living on the prairies does not appeal to me.

How I Came To Know It: I am a huge Mark Knopfler fan so I bought this on spec when it came out.

How It Stacks Up: I have nine Mark Knopfler albums (plus assorted albums where he collaborates with other artists). Of the nine “pure Knopfler records” “Down the Road Wherever” comes in dead last. Here’s a full accounting:

1. Golden Heart: 5 stars (reviewed at Disc 448)
2. Sailing to Philadelphia: 5 stars (reviewed at Disc 136)
3. Privateering: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 748)
4. Shangri-La: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 740)
5. Get Lucky: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 129)
6. Tracker: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 1025)
7. The Ragpicker’s Dream: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 128)
8. Kill to Get Crimson: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 836)
9. Down the Road Wherever: 2 stars (reviewed right here)

Ratings: 2 stars

One of the best things about Mark Knopfler’s solo career is just how laid back he’s become in his approach to music. However, “Down the Road Wherever” is so laid back that it practically fades into the wallpaper. As the album progresses there are still some gems that simply will not be covered over, but it takes a patient ear to seek them out.

It was hard to write that lede because I have loved Mark Knopfler’s music long and deeply. I still do. But “Down the Road Wherever” takes the album’s title a bit too much to heart, his natural gift for ambling in the just the right direction often replaced with mere ambling for its own sake.

The record is not without ambition. Knopfler brings together the full gamut of musical styles he’s explored and mastered over his decades-long career. There is rock, blues, folk and even a little funk thrown in here. He pulls in a plethora of different instruments into the arrangements as well. Most notably of this is the horn section, with mixed results.

When the horns work, they present as a blast of trumpet in the more rock-leaning tunes, evoking classic Rolling Stones. However, more often than not they arrive as either jazz-centric noodles or annoying sax riffs that recall the bad old eighties. I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again – not everyone can be Clarence Clemons. Clemons is a master of the art, throwing the musical equivalent of a semicolon, artfully dressing things up with a well-timed break. Most other saxophone ends up like most semicolons, getting in the way of a perfectly good sentence.

As for the ambling, it is all over the place, with many five- and six-minute songs that ought to be three or four. Knopfler is intending to set a mood, but the mood he sets is sleepy. The players are all amazing, but it is kind of like a mid-day jam session at the bar, where everyone is welcome to join. There are too many cooks on stage, and no one is throwing anything spicy into the broth.

It is not all bad news. Those trumpets in “Heavy Up” knock out a solid groove, and even though the song is a too long and lyrically humdrum, it has an undeniably catchy swing to it.

Also, Knopfler is in no danger of losing his guitar talent. In recent years he sits the guitar humbly back in the mix, but he remains the best guitar player on earth.

Also, there are a few gems on this record. “Nobody’s Child” is a somber exploration of when alone and abandoned children grow up to become fearsome and damaged adults. The song has a lone prairie quality to the production, stark as the tale it tells. Knopfler’s guitar walks you through the story with a grim grace, splashing a rich palette of colour out of his guitar to underscore each verse.

"One Song at a Time” is also a gorgeous tune and while it sounds a lot like things he’s done on many of his earlier solo albums, that’s only because it sounds good. More of this kind of Knopfler is definitely something I can live with.

Knopfler has a propensity to end a record with a stripped-down number which is often one of the better tunes on the record. “Down the Road Wherever” reinforces this trend with “Matchstick Man” a gorgeous bit of acoustic playing as Knopfler reminds us there is no guitar style of which he is not master. The song paints a vivid scene of a man riding across a lonely stretch of snow-covered landscape, guitar in hand. It is clear that even at the not-so-tender age of 71, Knopfler still sees himself as a wandering, itinerant artist with a heart full of wonder. While “Down the Road Forever” is not his best effort, it has enough of that spirit in it that I’ll be keeping it around a while longer, hopeful for more of that good stuff on his next release.

Best tracks: Nobody’s Child, One Song at a Time, Matchstick Man

CD Odyssey Disc 1409: George Thorogood and the Destroyers

Ordinarily at this time of the year my mind would turn to my favourite holiday - Hallowe’en. Unfortunately, the pandemic has pretty much cancelled it. You may have heard that Hallowe’en is NOT cancelled, but people who say that are referring to children’s Hallowe’en. Adult Hallowe’en is most definitely not going ahead.

At least there are scary movies to watch.

Disc 1409 is…. The Question

Artist: George Thorogood and the Destroyers

Year of Release: 2000 but featuring music from 1977 to 1999

What’s up with the Cover? George strikes a pose in a snakeskin jacket, guitar in hand. If you look carefully you can also see the outline of a rearing cobra in the background, which has no doubt slithered over from its previous lair on the cover of Metallica’s Black album (reviewed way back at Disc 93  when “What’s up with the cover?” wasn’t even a thing yet….).

How I Came To Know It: I grew up with George Thorogood, who was a house party favourite in my home town as a kid. This particularly collection comes to me through my buddy Chris, who is divesting himself of his CDs and let me pick through them before they go. I got this record and about a dozen others. Thanks, Chris!

How It Stacks Up: An anthology is just a long-winded greatest hits package, and so doesn’t stack up.

Ratings: Greatest hits (and anthologies) don’t get ratings, as they are not true albums.

Usually it would be an insult to call a band a “bar band” but George Thorogood and the Destroyers are the mother of all bar bands. Their infectious brand of blues rock may be ubiquitous in small town pubs from Powell River to Prince Rupert, but no one plays it better or has more fun doing it. They’re still touring and listening to the live tracks on this anthology makes me inclined to go see them.

Just what is an anthology? An anthology is for when you really like a band. Like them even more than just their radio singles…but not much more. Just enough more that you want a few deep cuts and live tracks to go along with the hits, but not so much that you’d festoon your CD shelves with 10 albums worth of stuff. If a greatest hits record is a one-night stand, and the full discography is a marriage, then an anthology would be that girl you met back in college. You dated for a full semester and it was reasonably serious at the time, but not ultimately the love of your life.

This sums up my feelings for George Thorogood. I like him, and I have a lot of great memories of his music. Like all those times my friend Rob would me into town in his pickup truck as we cranked George out of his crappy stereo at volumes that threatened to melt the cassette tape. Did Rob shift more aggressively when “Gear Jammer” came on? You bet he did, and it was good fun, although the truck’s clutch probably didn’t appreciate the experience.

What makes Thorogood so…good? Well, like any talented rhythm and blues band, the Destroyers sit right down in the pocket and drop riffs that growl and spit. This music is gritty, and grimy and puts a strut in your step. Even the saxophone has some snarl, and at no point did I mind those horn flourishes that on other albums might have me fearfully looking over my shoulder for (shudder) a jazz run.

No such fear here. George Thorogood is all meat and potatoes, and no quiche. The guitar grinds out riffs (and occasional blues solos) and the sax pumps out flourishes while never getting uppity. They keep it simple, but they play it like they mean it.

This is music that will make you want to dance, but no fancy moves please: boring dancing only. Want to just shuffle around a bit, enjoy yourself and not have to put your beer down? This is the music for you. You can do all your favourite average dances: the Half-Twist (one leg moving is plenty), the Power Walker and everyone’s favourite, the Partly-Raised Drunk Fist (the other hand being down at your waist holding your beer by the neck so it stays cold).

Against this backdrop, Thorogood’s voice is the perfect instrument. Rough, raspy and full of gusto and late-night bourbon. When George says he’s bad to the bone, you believe him. When George drinks alone you raise your glass in solidarity, as he makes ridiculous lines like “You know when I drink alone…I prefer to be by myself” somehow revelatory.

Thorogood and his band do a cover with a zest few bands can match, He takes Hank Williams’ “Move It On Over” and John Lee Hooker’s “One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer” and makes them forever his own. I love both the originals, but the extra oomph Thorogood infuses them with is undeniable. I was less keen on his cover of “Johnny B. Goode” but even his lesser covers end up being a celebration of the classics.

He also writes some great tracks, and some of his most enduring classics (“Bad to the Bone”, “I Drink Alone”, “Gear Jammer”) are originals. These aren’t complicated songs, but they have some of the most enduring riffs in rock and roll and sound as fresh today as they did thirty years ago.

For all that, this particular anthology was too much of a good thing. At 30 songs and almost two and a half hours, it was a lot of George. Also, Thorogood’s heyday is from around 1977 to 1988 but the anthology goes well into the nineties where the classics (covers and originals alike) become harder to come by. I’m glad to have these treasures in my collection, but Odyssey aside, I’ll probably mix them in with other stuff on future listens.

Best tracks: Madison Blues, One Bourbon One Scotch One Beer, Move It On Over, Bad to the Bone, Willie and the Hand Jive, I Drink Alone, Gear Jammer, Long Gone, Who Do You Love, Born to Be Bad, Get a Haircut, Christine

CD Odyssey Disc 1362: Robert Johnson

The weekend has ended and with it another NFL draft. My beloved Miami Dolphins got scooped on more than a few picks I coveted, but we still made off with 12 draft picks, including the much-vaunted Tua Tagovailoa at #5 overall. I hope he ends up being as good as advertised, because if he isn’t, I’ll be singing the blues.

Kind of like this next guy…

Disc 1362 is…. Robert Johnson: Reborn and Remastered

Artist: Robert Johnson and a bunch of other early blues legends

Year of Release: 2020

What’s up with the Cover? Does this man look like he just made a deal with the devil? Well…yeah. He kinda does.

How I Came To Know It: If you listen to rock and roll long enough, you’ll encounter the blues. If you listen to the blues long enough, you’ll encounter Robert Johnson. He’s like a devil at a crossroads at midnight; just waitin’ for you to show up in your own good time.

How It Stacks Up:  This is my only Robert Johnson album, but it isn’t really an album at all, it’s just a compilation of his singles. Either way, it can’t stack up.

Ratings: I don’t rate compilations and even though Robert Johnson never released a full-length album, I’m sticking to that approach.

When it comes to the blues, I’m more dabbler than fan. My collection holds some of the big names – Muddy Waters, John Lee Hooker and Howlin’ Wolf – and I groove to each of them when the mood strikes me. I felt like something was missing, and so not knowing where to go next, I went with a classic original – Robert Johnson.

It isn’t hard to be a completionist when it comes to Robert Johnson, and this compilation comes close on a single compact disc. He only recorded 29 different songs, and this album has 20 of them. I don’t know which nine are missing, but I feel confident I can live without them.

This album may be “remastered” but all things are relative. When you’re talking about applying all the modern technical wizardry of the modern studio to something knocked out on a 78 in a hotel room via a single microphone, there’s only so much you can do. This stuff sounds tinny and raw throughout.

The raw is great; when it comes to the blues raw is what you want, and Johnson has a great voice for this style of music, as he yowls out about bad fortune and questionable choices. His guitar matches this perfectly, except for the fact the choices are anything but questionable. On first blush, it sounds like Johnson is missing half the notes in the song, but as you keep listening you realize it is deliberate. Sometimes the guitar lumbers drunkenly along, absent-mindedly hitting a note here and there. Sometimes it trips over itself in a flurry of notes. It feels very alive and organic, but underneath it all there is a structure, a natural flow. That flow is the blues.

The ‘tinny’ is not as enjoybable. I’m spoiled by the fifties and sixties recordings of those artists I mentioned earlier, who benefited from studio sound. Robert Johnson is the original garage punk sound. He clanks and clunks along, brilliant in its own right but maddening knowing that you’ll ever hear it better than what they managed on those few takes that still survive today.

As for lyrics, these songs are more about a vibe and a feeling than about a complex narrative, but Johnson still manages more than a few memorable lines.

One of my favourites is on “32-20 Blues” Johnson’s narrator has a dysfunctional relationship with a woman packing a .38 special (Johnson matching it with the titular .32 caliber firearm of his own):

I'm gonna shoot my pistol, gonna shoot my gatling gun
I'm gonna shoot my pistol, gotta shoot my gatling gun
You made me love you, now your man have come

Ah-oh, baby, where you stayed last night?
Ah-ah, baby, where you stayed last night?
You got your hair all tangled and you ain't talking right”

Like I said earlier, bad choices abound in a good blues song. Whatever the case, these songs are about characters that would be rough by today’s standards, never mind the 1930s.

My collection of Robert Johnson songs came with a bonus CD featuring Johnson’s contemporaries doing a few hits of their own. I was treated to Willie Brown, Son House, Sonny Boy Williamson and even an early Howlin’ Wolf track. This stuff was every bit as good as the Robert Johnson stuff, and is a great reminder of the amazing community of blues artists at that time.

Robert Johnson has one of music’s great legacies. He only has 29 songs, but my music collection is peppered with covers of those song. This includes three different covers of “Stop Breaking Down” (Lucinda Williams, the Rolling Stones, and the White Stripes). Every version is totally different, and each is great in their own way. That’s always the sign of a song with great bones.

Because of my production snobbery, I don’t put these originals on very often, but when I do I’m always reminded I should be listening to this more often. So thanks for all those great songs, Mr. Johnson, and thanks for everything that you helped to inspire that came after. I wish you could’ve lived to see it happen.

Best tracks: I Believe I’ll Dust My Broom, I’m a Steady Rollin’ Man, Come On In My Kitchen, Walking Blues, Rambling On My Mind, Preachin’ Blues (Up Jumped the Devil), They’re Red Hot, Stop Breakin’ Down Blues, Little Queen of Spades, From Four ‘Till Late, 32-20 Blues

CD Odyssey Disc 1244: Hurray for the Riff Raff

Welcome to the weekend, world! This next review is one of my best finds this year, although it took two people to get me there.

Disc 1244 is… Small Town Heroes

Artist: Hurray for the Riff Raff

Year of Release: 2014

What’s up with the Cover? Singer, writer and producer Alynda Lee Segarra takes a seat on an invisible chair located in the middle of Main Street, Small Town, USA circa 1950.

Ordinarily I’d be concerned for a young woman’s safety sitting in the middle of a street like that, but Segarra can take care of herself. She has also summoned some kind of protective circle festooned with the signs of the zodiac. Also circling her in a protective aura: a Puerto Rican flag, a yellow rose, a sun, a coin a hand and a bottle of tequila.

Most interesting is the symbol in the upper right – a circle with two arrows. This is hobo code for “hobos not welcome – get out fast.” Apparently Segarra used to ride the trains in hobo style, so this symbol would have come in pretty handy during that time of her life.

How I Came to Know It: I had thought I discovered Hurray for the Riff Raff through an episode of “What’s In My Bag?” starring Ethan Hawke. Hawke goes on about the band enthusiastically for some time (you can watch the Youtube clip here. The relevant section is 4:44 in but Ethan Hawke is so lovable and has such great musical taste that whole episode is worth your time.

However, as I was telling this story to my friend Randall, he reminded me that it was he who had brought a song to a music listening night from the band so Randall actually discovered them for me, then Ethan Hawke reminded me about them a month later. So it was Randall, and then Ethan. Maybe the three of us could all go get a beer and talk about music some time. Ethan – let me know when you’re available.

How It Stacks Up:  I have two Hurray for the Riff Raff albums and of the two, I have to put “Small Town Heroes” at #1.

Ratings:  5 stars

“Small Town Heroes” grew on me and grew on me fast. It only came into my collection a couple weeks ago but I spent most of the work week delaying writing this review, lingering on its multifaceted beauty.

The creative force behind Hurray for the Riff Raff is Alynda Lee Segarra, a New York born, New Orleans-based singer-songwriter who writes songs that remind you of a mix of Steve Earle, Gillian Welch, Hank Williams and Robert Johnson. Those are a lot of big shoes to fill but Segarra’s got the talent to manage it. She writes songs that will one day be classics in multiple genres, if there is any justice in the world.

It starts with Segarra’s vocals which have a country crooner purity, with a seasoning of bluesy grit that gives them emotional resonance. She is able to turn the grit on and off at will, giving the record considerable artistic range. “Blue Ridge Mountain” is old-time bluegrass, “The New SF Bay Blues” is first generation blues stripped down to just guitar and voice and “The Body Electric” is modern Americana, enhanced with violin and horn. The record is a love letter to everything that has come before. It could easily feel contrived, but the songs are so original and are performed with such gravitas that it just feels timeless.

The record features exceptional musicianship as well. The guitar work on every track is so great I had to check the liner notes to see who it was. As often as not, it is Segarra playing. She has a relaxed and easy hand that had me thinking of her previous life as a hobo, riding in a box car or strolling through corn fields. Fellow Riff Raffers and guitarists Sam Doores and A.P. Baer also deserve mention for their excellence.

Lyrically every song drew me in, whether she is lamenting gun violence (“The Body Electric”) or just pining for a lover (“The New SF Bay Blues”) she draws you in on a personal level, her words reaching through the speaker and putting their hand on your arm to get your full attention. On the title track Segarra tells the tragic story of a drug addict abandoned but not forgotten:

“Oh baby girl, where did you go

I threw you out where the cold wind blows

Are you in Vidalia with your no good mom

I just couldn’t watch you stick it in your arm.”

Segarra has a talent for wrapping tough and tender into a single concept, with lines like “a woman’s heart it’s made of solid rock” and “I tempted fate, and I acted smart/I grew some callous on my heart.” She brings her characters to life. Sometimes she makes you feel sorry for them, but even when down they never lack agency, even though it is sometimes employed against their own interests.

Usually I am excited to see what the Odyssey brings me next, but this time is different. As I wrote this I am listening to “Small Town Heroes” for a fifth time in a row all I want is have a sixth listen, and then a seventh. But the call of the CD sea is strong, and so I must reluctantly part from Hurray for the Riff Raff; I have a feeling I will be visiting with them often down the road.

Best tracks: They are all good

CD Odyssey Disc 1111: Tom Waits

Welcome back to the Odyssey. I’ve got a lot to say about this next album so let’s get right to it.

Disc 1111 is… The Heart of Saturday Night

Artist: Tom Waits

Year of Release: 1974

What’s up with the Cover? Just another night on the town in what I think is…the forties? Much like Tom Waits’ music, this cover is hard to date but feels like it is from an earlier era. Regardless, we’ve all been this guy (or girl – pick one) out into the early hours trying to create some memories and maybe feeling the beginnings of a tension headache (or sore feet – pick one).

How I Came To Know It: I originally discovered Tom Waits through his debut album “Closing Time” but it took me a long time to dig deeper. Once I did, “The Heart of Saturday Night” was one of my early acquisitions, but I can’t remember why. The reason is lost in the mists of time.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 17 of Tom Waits’ studio albums which is most – but not all – of them (I previously sold “One from the Heart” after much hand-wringing.

“The Heart of Saturday Night” does pretty well amidst tough competition. I rank it 6^th, bumping “Bad As Me”, “Bone Machine” and “Heartattack and Vine” all down one spot in the process. This is also the last of my Tom Waits’ albums waiting for review, so here’s a full recap.

1. Mule Variations: 5 stars (reviewed at Disc 970)
2. Rain Dogs: 5 stars (reviewed at Disc 619)
3. Swordfishtrombone: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 149)
4. Frank’s Wild Years: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 280)
5. Closing Time: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 40)
6. The Heart of Saturday Night: 4 stars (reviewed right here)
7. Bad as Me: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 775)
8. Bone Machine: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 183)
9. Heartattack and Vine: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 346)
10. Alice: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 1061)
11. Blue Valentine: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 98)
12. Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers & Bastards: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 445)
13. Blood Money: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 235)
14. Real Gone: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 852)
15. Foreign Affairs: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 193)
16. Small Change: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 349)
17. One From the Heart: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 935)
18. Nighthawks at the Diner: 2 stars (reviewed at Disc 147)

I can’t remember why I kept “Nighthawks” but I’m going to check into that and maybe say goodbye to it as well. The rest are keepers.

Ratings: 4 stars

As a young man moving I moved from an isolated small town to a city. Not a big one, but big to me. I was always drawn to the energy a city takes on in the wee hours of the morning. When the sun first goes down the structure of the day tries for a few hours to keep order, but the longer the lamps are lit, the more a new set of rules establishes itself. It is dreamlike, mysterious and a little dangerous if you don’t let yourself sway to its rhythms, or if you sway too hard.

“The Heart of Saturday Night” is Tom Waits’ love song to night and the city. It feels like the backdrop to a detective novel, or maybe just an ode to all the people caught out in the pre-dawn.

Individually, the album has high points, but it is how Waits sets the album as a mood piece that is a greater triumph. He blends the easy listening style of Frank Sinatra (or maybe a drunken Dean Martin), late night lounge jazz and backstreet blues, bringing it all into one tent. He grounds it there with gravelly vocals that walk lazily in and off the beat with sandpaper grace.

The album begins as late night evenings often do, with a bold promise to hit the town and hit ‘er hard. Or as Waits sings on “New Coat of Paint”:

“Let's put a new coat of paint
On this lonesome old town
Set 'em up, we'll be knockin' 'em down
You wear a dress
Baby I'll wear a tie
We'll laugh at that old bloodshot moon
In that burgundy sky”

Spoiler alert: if the moon isn’t bloodshot yet, it is going to be before the night is over. Better still from “San Diego Serenade”:

“I never saw the mornin' 'til I stayed up all night
I never saw the sunshine 'til you turned out the light
I never saw my hometown until I stayed away too long
I never heard the melody until I needed the song”

Every time I hear Waits warble these beautiful lines I am taken back to the few times I’ve stayed up all night. Maybe I was watching some sporting event in another time zone, maybe I worked a night shift and was driving home or maybe I was just getting good and drunk. I can say that most of the times you do it, you remember it, and Waits brings it all back to you.

Whatever the case, Waits takes that moment and digs deeper, reminding us that big events happen in the moment, and you can’t fully imagine how they’ll go until you’re in them. Or as Waits sums it up:

“I never saw your heart 'til someone tried to steal it away
I never saw your tears until they rolled down your face.”

Waits’ night shifts through the various characters you might encounter in the dead of night. Folks at the bus station and truck drivers pulling a late shift both get their due.  “Shiver Me Timbers” is the song of a sailor bidding farewell to his loved ones, heading out at a strange hour because that’s when the wind and the tide were right. “Shiver Me Timbers” has become a phrase for mockery and bad pirate impressions, but Waits reclaims it and it gives you the shivers all over again, right down into the bones.

It isn’t all doom and gloom out on the town, though. “(Looking For)” the Heart of Saturday Night” is the ultimate drinking out weekend evening, with all the weariness of the week still hanging off our hero, he gets himself dressed up and hits the bar. The song has the buzz of pool halls, the feeling of having your arm around your girl and even a little melancholy after one too many – making everything seem so much more important.

That song comes at the end of the Side One and is bookended by the end of Side Two with “The Ghosts of Saturday Night (After Hours at Napoleone’s Pizza House)”. A couple of songs that need a little less title, but like a late night out, it is hard to follow a single plot line for too long.

“Ghosts…” is all lounge piano and Waits crooning, as he gets down to the last people standing with the sun just around the corner. A solitary sailor “Who spends the facts of his life like small change on strangers” dreams of a waitress with “Maxwell House eyes
and marmalade thighs with scrambled yellow hair.” That’s Waits reminding us if you’re still up it’s time for breakfast. The early risers are starting to rise, and the day isn’t here yet, but it is close; threatening to dampen down the magic and get about its business again.

The album starts with a playful energy. Through the middle trumpets flare up and restless bass lines flutter and pulse with the energy of the night owls prowling the streets about. By the end everyone is worn out and Waits lets a simple piano slowly trail off with the rising sun. Like a good night on the town, the album is a journey you don’t soon forget.

Best tracks: New Coat of Paint, San Diego Serenade, Shiver Me Timbers, (Looking For) The Heart of Saturday Night, The Ghosts of Saturday Night (After Hours at Napoleone’s Pizza House)

CD Odyssey Disc 1061: Tom Waits

I’ve had a fun weekend, hanging out with friends, playing Ulti and watching the Miami Dolphins win in a thrilling second half comeback.

On Saturday, I went down to the local record store to get the new releases by St. Vincent and Courtney Barnett/Kurt Vile. Both records were amazing, and I’m looking forward to getting to know them better and one day – when the dice gods decide its time – review them.

Disc 1061 is…Alice

Artist: Tom Waits

Year of Release: 2002

What’s up with the Cover? An out-of-focus Tom Waits sits on a tire, looking devilish.

How I Came To Know It: This was just me digging through Tom Waits’ discography once I knew I loved his stuff.

How It Stacks Up:  I have 17 Tom Waits albums, and while I like “Alice” competition is fierce. I rank it at #10 overall.

Ratings: 4 stars

Tom Waits’ music has always been fanciful, but “Alice” is even more like a weird fairytale than usual. These songs have a playful quality that shows that many years into his career, Waits is still having fun exploring and developing his approach to music.

The opening and title track, “Alice” is a moody lounge piece, with a romantic sound matched to lyrics that are foreboding and creepy. This is Waits at his best, a master story teller rasping his way through the song, accompanied by sexy trumpet flourishes. The song is dripping with great language, but my favourite section is:

“But I must be insane

To go skating on your name

And by tracing it twice

I fell through the ice

Of Alice.”

Awesome imagery exploring the dangerous draw of the narrator’s obsession with the title character. The songs are co-written by long-time Waits collaborator (and wife) Kathleen Brennan, and together they paint amazing word pictures. Elsewhere on the album, songs speak of eyes that are “fish on a creamy shore”, swimming pools “filled with needles and with fools” and hearts that pump wine rather than blood. It is a sumptuous feast of language that keeps you interested even after many repeat listens.

Not content with moody and pensive songs like “Alice” Waits also goes full weirdo, with his signature bells and syncopated percussion. How he can turn all these bangs, clangs and whistles into compelling music is beyond me, but he does it. “Kommienezuspadt” isn’t even in English (I’m guessing German but I have no idea) but it has such an irresistible energy I usually try to sing along anyway.

Waits lets his imagination explore in a lot of different directions. On “Flower’s Grave” he observes that “no one puts flowers on a flower’s grave” and on “We’re All Mad Here” he observes that your hip bones are shaped like a heart, after all that flesh is removed and you’re reduced to a skeleton. Creepy but compelling stuff.

“Poor Edward” tells the story of a man who has another face on the back of his head. We are never told why, it’s just another of Waits’ mad visions, and nestled among all the others on “Alice”, it somehow makes perfect sense.

Interspersed among all this delightful bizarreness, Waits mixes in tender ballads like “Lost in the Harbour” and “Fish & Bird” the latter of which tells the story of a bird that fell in love with a whale. They can’t be together, but yet their love endures. In the magical world of Tom Waits it all just makes sense.

Even though the record features plenty of troubling imagery there is a gentle romanticism that permeates “Alice” that draws you in and gives you comfort. This record is a favourite of Sheila’s and as a result gets a lot of airplay in the house, but despite the heavy rotation I’m always happy when it comes on.

Best tracks: Alice, Flower’s Grave, Kommienezuspadt, Lost in the Harbour, We’re All Mad Here, Fish & Bird, Barcarolle

CD Odyssey Disc 1008: Seasick Steve

After a bit of an exhausting day I’m looking forward to a quiet night in. Let’s start with a music review, since that’s what we do here.

Disc 1008 is…You Can’t Teach An Old Dog New Tricks

Artist: Seasick Steve

Year of Release: 2011

What’s up with the Cover? I’ll let Seasick Steve tell this one in his own words:

“Twm is a cross Labrador and collie, approximately 12 years old. He was dumped on a motorway in Swansea, South Wales and taken to a dog pound where he chose Claire as his new owner. His name “Twm” comes from the name of the Welsh Happy Highwayman Twm Sion Cati.”

Nice story, Steve, but I’m still a cat person.

How I Came To Know It: I was in the mood to own a bit more Seasick Steve and took a chance on this one without listening to it first. I gotta learn to stop doin’ that but you can’t teach an old… Well, you know.

How It Stacks Up:  I have two Seasick Steve albums. Of the two, I must reluctantly put “You Can’t Teach An Old Dog…” second.

Ratings: 2 stars

Say what you will about this Seasick Steve album, it doesn’t falsely advertise. This record is an old dog doing old tricks. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that, but it didn’t inspire me the way I’d hoped it would.

In Seasick Steve’s case, the old trick is some pretty solid rhythm and blues, punctuated by Steve’s gravelly vocals and solid guitar work. Steve is an accomplished guitar player, and he knows well enough to sit right down in the pocket of a style he really gets. He pumps out rocking blues riffs with enthusiasm, and even works an acoustic from time time, on which he demonstrates a picking technique that is so aggressive that I suspect he has to retune his axe every other song.

That is the good stuff, but when you stick to old tricks you need to perform those old tricks in a spectacular fashion. There is nothing wrong on “You Can’t Teach…” but it doesn’t have the consistent visceral energy of his earlier release “Man From Another Time”. The two ‘dog’ themed songs (the title track and “Back in the Doghouse”) bring out the best in Steve, with thick reverb and dirty power, but the rest of the record falls a little short in terms of grease n’ grit.

There are a couple of interesting songs, particularly “Treasures” and “It’s a Long Long Way” both of which have a folksy troubadour quality to them that made me think of Johnny Cash late in his career. “It’s a Long Long Way” has a pretty picking solo and even a thoughtful opening rumination on the subject of aging:

“You prob’ly won’t take no advice from me

I never took none myself, you see

It’s just when you get older

You’d like to pass some on

But nobody’s listening.”

Not super inspiring, but heartfelt when Steve sings it to you. Unfortunately, this is the high point of the album lyrically as most of it is occupied with variations on “I ain’t gonna change” and “I’m a hobo”. Perfectly good themes, but the songs don’t shine any new light on the topics, and also feature a lot of strained rhymes that don’t do them any favours.

Apart from his fantastic guitar work, the thing that is great about Seasick Steve is how visceral and raw he feels. On “You Can’t Teach…” there are long stretches where he just sounds like a bar band you’d hear at your local. A good bar band for sure, but this isn’t the kind of music I like to sit in a pub and listen to all night. Maybe that last one’s on me.

There is just too much of the same thing here. This sounds a bit hollow considering how much indie folk music I’ve been buying for the past six months. You could argue a lot of that stuff sounds the same too, and you could be right. But at least there either the stories are different or the voices are sweeter, and I’m a sucker for both those things.

There’s nothing terrible about this record, and much to recommend it, but as the CD shelves fill up I’ve got to be a bit more ruthless, and that means this dog is going to have to find another home. Hopefully it’ll find one that is more appreciative.

Best tracks: Treasures, Back in the Dog House, It’s A Long Long Way

CD Odyssey Disc 980: Steve Earle

I’m a bit worn out after a hard week at work, but the weekend is here. It is even here early, since I’m off today! I am looking forward to recharging my batteries doing things I enjoy, starting with writing this blog entry. I only wish I had enjoyed the album more.

Disc 980 is…Terraplane

Artist: Steve Earle

Year of Release: 2015

What’s up with the Cover? After all those Drive-By Trucker albums featuring killer art by Wes Freed I had almost forgotten that Steve Earle has been putting the horrible art of Tony Fitzpatrick on his covers for decades.

This cover features a Terraplane, which was a car made by the Hudson Motor Car Company from 1932 to 1938. Legendary bluesman Robert Johnson featured it in a song called “Terraplane Blues” in 1936 which may be the connection here.

It looks like after Fitzpatrick painted this one he left to go answer the phone and while he was gone his kids doodled all over it.

How I Came To Know It: This was just me buying Steve Earle’s latest album on faith. I’ve done that with this record and then again with 2016’s “Colvin & Earle” (reviewed back at Disc 921). Steve’s going to have to earn the next one.

How It Stacks Up:  Not counting Earle’s album of Townes Van Zandt covers (which is awesome, but hard to stack up) I have 16 Steve Earle albums. “Terraplane” comes in dead last at #16.

Ratings: 2 stars

Long-time readers will know I am a huge Steve Earle fan. I’ve seen him in concert four times and next time he comes to town, I will go again. It is rare that I have anything bad to say about him. I guess there is a time for everything.

After years of skirting multiple genres, “Terraplane” is primarily a blues album, and Earle’s love for the blues is evident throughout, as he plays around with most (if not all) of the various styles that make up the blues. I like the blues well enough, and I also like it when artists keep things interesting for themselves and – by extension – their audience. But it wasn’t the musical style of “Terraplane” that put me off. It wasn’t even Earle’s delivery or musicianship; he plays with heart and grit. I just didn’t like these songs all that much.

Earle plays with a grimy and raw quality that makes it feel somewhere between someone playing in a cheap dive bar and a street busker. I think this is what he was going for, but it just felt like one more bluesman, ambling his way around and hoping to pick up a few tips. There isn’t anything wrong with that, but as a devoted fan of Earle’s for over thirty years, I’ve come to expect better.

“Terraplane” is also a break up album, being written in the wake of his divorce from his seventh wife, singer/songwriter Allison Moorer. She also did a breakup album called “Down to Believing.” You can check out the title track here.

Sometimes a break up album can bring the best out of an artist, but “Terraplane” feels like an idle exploration of those feelings, more interested in exploring the blues than with internal exploration. It is there, but it feels like a junior partner. Songs like “You’re the Best Lover That I Ever Had” and “Baby’s Just as Mean as Me” both feel have catchy rhythms (few know how to build a song better than Earle), but I didn’t feel the heart behind them like I wanted to.

Musically the most interesting song is “Better Off Alone.” This track could’ve been great, and with those seven marriages under his belt Earle has miles of material to draw from. It also has Earle backing away from the blues and going back to his pocket of roots folk. Despite how much I want to like it, every time I hear this line:

“And though

I taught you everything you know

I learned a thing or two myself and so

I’m gonna miss you when you’re gone.”

I find it jarring. If this is just a character amalgamated from Earle’s various experiences, then the rest of this song’s ‘mea culpa’ feel fails when the singer suggests he was the only one teaching anything to his partner. If it is specifically about Moorer – a talent in her own right for some time – it’s just unfair. And lest you think that third line balances it all out, go read it again. The narrator learned some things, but he’s not indicating from whom – just as likely it is from himself. I know Earle is hurting – at his last show you could feel it bleeding off the stage – but as Kris Kristoffersen once said:

“Don't ever cuss that fiddle, boy

Unless you want that fiddle out of tune

That picker there in trouble, boy

Ain't nothin' but another side of you.”

Later on the record there are a couple of songs I enjoyed, including the old-timey “Gamblin’ Blues” and the more rock-driven “Go-Go Boots Are Back.” I was looking forward to doing a playlist of songs featuring go-go boots (with this one, plus Mudcrutch’s “Queen of the Go-Go Boots” and the Drive-By Truckers’ “Go-Go Boots”. That’s not likely to happen though, because for the first time in 30 years ever I find myself willing to part with a Steve Earle album.

Instead, I’m going to go check out Allison Moorer’s album and see how it holds up. In the face of tragedy, it seems only fair to give everyone equal time. That one song I linked to above is promising, and I’d like to hear more.

Best tracks: Go-Go Boots Are Back, Gamblin’ Blues

CD Odyssey Disc 944: Seasick Steve

I am in the middle of a perfect storm of professional and personal demands on my time. I call such times the Wormhole Effect. It is like being in the gravitational well of a wormhole. The pressure feels overwhelming but the only way out is through the centre of it. A stolen interlude with a bit of music will help make sure I get to the other side intact.

Disc 944 is….Man From Another Time

Artist: Seasick Steve

Year of Release: 2010

What’s up with the Cover? Seasick Steve himself aka Steve Wold (or Leach, depending on who you believe), looking rather contented with himself here at the tender age of 70 (or 60, depending on who you believe).

How I Came To Know It: A few years ago the HIFI channel gave a free preview to try to convince viewers to sign up. This was back when the HIFI channel was actually about music – nowadays they just air a bunch of random crap – and I taped a whole slew of episodes of “Late Night…with Jools Holland.” Jools brought on all kinds of cool musical acts and one of them was Seasick Steve. I bought this album because two of the songs were featured on the Jools Holland episode I watched. I never signed up for HIFI though, nor have I ever regretted it.

How It Stacks Up:  Seasick Steve has eight studio albums, but I only have two of them. Of those two, “Man From Another Time” is my favourite so…#1!

Ratings: 3 stars

Music has many currencies, but authenticity is the most precious of all. Seasick Steve’s career has always traded on authenticity, and he displays his deep and abiding love of boogie woogie and blues on “Man From Another Time” that feels natural and carefree. Is it really natural, though? There is an alternative narrative about Seasick Steve – which reveals him as a career session musician who reinvented himself with a created backstory as a traveling bluesman.

Fortunately, here on Creative Maelstrom I could care less. If the music sounds authentic, that is authentic enough for me. Just sing it like you mean it, and be true to the moment when you’re performing. By this test, “Man From Another Time” delivers.

The album opens with “Diddley Bo” which was the first song I saw Steve play live on Jools Holland. It isn’t that this song is particularly amazing, it is just a basic rock-blues riff with a bit of drums in the background and the vocals are forgettable and a bit kitschy. But you forgive all of this, because the entire song is played on a board with a single guitar string nailed to it, played (without frets) by Steve with a slide. He throws that slide down with what can best be described as precise abandon, never missing a note. It should be just about the music but I’m sorry, that’s just too damned cool.

Many of Seasick Steve’s other songs are played on guitars (or guitar like objects) with only three or four strings that he’s tuned to overcome the shortcoming. Proof that once you can bar chord you can slide up and down most anything and play some version of the blues. Sure it’s a bit of excess showmanship, but it’s also a lot of fun, and it doesn’t take away from the fact that Seasick Steve is an accomplished guitar player. He’s doing the musical equivalent of tying one hand behind his back and still sounds great.

The themes of the music are about workin’ hard and travelin’ free. Seasick Steve sings about his John Deere tractor, being grateful for having a job (which he notes, is performing for us), and how to pick a good direction when travelling.

My favourite song on the album is on this latter topic. “Never Go West” is a gritty southern rock blues number, with an infectious riff and a cautionary tale of life on the road for the down and out. Seasick Steve’s voice is at its gravelly best, drawing you in as he reminds you to “never whisper when you know it’s time to shout.”

“Never Go West” is book ended on the record by two quieter numbers that showcase Seasick Steve’s slowhand. On both “Just Because I Can” and “Dark” Seasick Steve still sounds good even though he smooths out his vocal delivery into something mid-way between Merle Haggard and Eddie Vedder.

For the most part, the record features basic vocals that do a good job of serving their working class themes. The title track is a song about realizing you’ve become the old guy in the room and Steve does it in a way that pokes a little fun at himself without invoking any false pity that usually comes when a middle aged guy complains about getting old.

Other times the lyrics feel a bit forced. On “That’s All” he sings “now freedom for most/is just a word…like toast.” It is a painfully forced rhyme made worse by the delay before he goes there.

But this record is not about lyrics anyway, it is a record about feel. The guitar riffs are steeped in the blues and gorgeously played and the songs have a simple timeless feel despite being new creations.

The record ends with a ten minute track which is a combination of a rambling and forgettable track called “Seasick Boogie” I could’ve lived without, married to a cover of Hank Williams’ “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry.” The latter is a duet with Amy La Vere. It is a solid enough cover (it’s hard to go wrong with that song), but there is no value in putting it on the same track as the other song.

On balance, “Man From Another Time” is a laid back easy listen that displays the right combination of musicianship, grit and humour. The record doesn’t forge a lot of new ground, but it walks well-worn roads with an easy gait that’s hard not to like.

Best tracks: The Banjo Song, Man From Another Time, Just Because I Can, Never Go West, Dark