Eric's Blues Party
This month, I am going to try something new with Cosmik Blues. I'm going to invite you to join me in a virtual blues party by shouting about some songs I'd play if we were taking over my living room in Edmonds, Washington, North of Seattle.
If you drink wine, I'll be pouring a merlot from Columbia Crest's excellent Grand Estates line from 2001. If coffee is your drug of choice, I'll introduce you to Camano Island Roasters, a boutique roaster that regularly fulfills my need for caffeine. Next month, we'll probably break out some holiday brews like Snow Cap from Pyramid Brewery, or heat up some of my African rooibos tea flavored with cinnamon. Our musical menu for the party ranges from high-energy blues from Texas courtesy of Omar and the Howlers, some ragged slide guitar from Hound Dog Taylor, and some blues history from a budget-priced compilation that will repay their small (under ten bucks) investment many times over, thanks to Delmark Records.
Are you ready for some blues?
I first heard Omar and the Howlers several years ago. At first, I wasn't all that impressed. Too many horns, I thought, when I listed to his records in the 1980's. Over time, though, I grew to enjoy Omar and the Howlers as a soundtrack for good barbeque. Straightforward, simple blues with a decidedly Southern accent. Last year, his Boogie Man CD on Germany's Ruf Records finally made me a convert. When Omar bends John Lee Hooker's deceptively simple notes that framed "Boogie Chillen" he turns guitar strings into gold in tribute to the man from Hastings Street on "Boogie Man." While there are many standout songs on Boogie Man, I keep coming back to the title cut and two others: "That's Just My Life" and "Mississippi Mud." The former is Kent Dykes' (Omar's real name) take on touring approximately 160 nights a year, and the writing on this song is as fresh as some of his extended, bluesy solos. "Mississippi Mud," though, really does it for me: we get a geography lesson that takes us back to Omar's Mississippi home, and a guitar workout that never gets stale. I particularly turn these three songs up when I want to remind myself that traditional, finely-honed blues songwriting is in very good hands.
I'd like to keep the energy a little high by putting on previously unreleased cuts from one of my favorite slide guitar players, the late Hound Dog Taylor. Release the Hound is a treasure trove for fans of high-octane, low-tech slide guitar blues. I don't know how producer Bruce Iglauer or mastering engineer Dan Stout did it, but they unearthed and cleaned up (only slightly, remember who's playing the guitar, now) 14 songs from radio, television and club dates from Hound Dog Taylor and the House Rockers. Iglauer, in his liner notes, tells the story of discovering, recording and experiencing Hound Dog Taylor and the House Rockers in the 1970's on Chicago's South Side: "frantic and wild were just fine, thank you." There's a lot of high-speed slide on this disc, and if you were here with me, I'd turn up "Wild About You Baby" and my two cats would probably sprint upstairs and hide under the bed. As Hound Dog lights into "What'd I Say" he asks drummer Ted Harvey if he's ready, and then we're treated to a gloriously hectic four-minute version of Brother Ray's classic song. We'd probably talk about how Brewer Phillips' bass lines and Ted Harvey's drums set the stage for Hound Dog's ragged guitar, but somehow, all three manage to land back at the same place after each twist and turn in the song. One of my favorite Hound Dog songs is "Walking the Ceiling" which I first heard on his 1971 debut LP for Alligator. Ted Harvey's extended drum solo captured on Release the Hound is exceptional, particularly when Hound Dog jumps back in for a few moments of barely-controlled mayhem.
I'd be remiss if I didn't shout about a budget-priced blues release from Delmark as part of the label's 50th Anniversary Collection, South Side Chicago Blues. It's a 10 song snapshot of South Side Chicago blues taken over a 70-year period. I hope it will lead blues fans to the original Delmark releases from which these songs are taken.
Some critics have said that West Side blues is more polished compared to the blues played South of the former stockyards, but I'm a poor judge of blues character: I like Chicago blues, no matter what the side: West side, South side, I don't care. Just don't pin me down on Chicago baseball. Growing up near Chicago Heights, I followed Luis Aparicio, Bill Melton and Wilbur Wood from the pre-Veeck White Sox. I was definitely not a fan of the team on 'da nort' side that played at Wrigley Field.
Like Hound Dog, slide guitar player JB Hutto is gone now, too. He played with Ted Harvey and Brewer Phillips after Hound Dog died of cancer, and also toured Europe with his "New Hawks" band in the 1980s. When I turn up "Slidewinder" on the Delmark compilation, I hear JB tearing it up like Elmore James used to do. A bit more controlled than Hound Dog's style, but it's still textbook slide guitar in my book.
I've got a special place in my blues collection for women blues singers, and I'm happy to play Big Time Sarah's "Train I Ride" from the Delmark compilation. Sarah's very much alive and a part of the Chicago blues scene today. Her band, the BTS Express, is tight, and they are regulars at clubs like Blue Chicago and other popular blues nightspots. Her version of "Train I Ride" reminds me of another Chicago blues sensation, Koko Taylor. Depending on the reaction to this month's column, I might set aside an evening to introduce you to the younger generation of blueswomen, like Debbie Seitz, Pauline York, Bonnie Lee, Olga, and a few others. As I said, talking about the blues in this format is an experiment, and one for which I should have installed a "bad idea airbag" on my computer.
I'll close our virtual party with two other cuts from the Delmark CD: Carey Bell's version of "Walking in the Park," and Sunnyland Slim's "Smile on My Face." I heard Carey play this song as a member of the Legendary Blues Band in the early 80's, and when I first heard Sunnyland Slim play piano nearly 30 years ago in Chicago, I knew that the blues was something special.
If you were here, I'd play Omar and the Howlers, Hound Dog Taylor, and the South Side Chicago Blues compilation from Delmark for you. We'd trade stories about the blues, and I'd tell you why I keep coming back to these three releases.
Until next month, let's play the blues.
