Category Archives: Country Blues

365 Days of Album Recommendations – Sep 27

John Lee Hooker – The Country Blues of John Lee Hooker

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I may be in the minority in saying this, but I prefer John Lee Hooker acoustic. This album, recorded in 1959, is one of my very favorites—possibly my absolute favorite.

I first heard a recording of John Lee Hooker performing Tupelo Blues live from Newport, and I was transfixed.

I have heard this album derided for a) being a “forced” recording meant to pander to the burgeoning folk music revival audience, and b) exposing that John Lee was a less-than-competent guitarist. My opinion: reason “a” is irrelevant, because regardless of the motivation, the music speaks for itself. And reason “b” is stupid; because John Lee was exactly the best guitarist for his music, as this recording of Tupelo Blues makes amply clear.

I love this album for its mix of material, something I personally feel much of his later albums would suffer for. Here, he takes on a wide range of songs, many that take him far out of his patented “boogie” mode, including Leroy Carr’s immortal “How Long Blues,” Sonny Boy Williamson’s “Good Morning Little Schoolgirl,” and Blind Lemon Jefferson’s “Black Snake” (the latter he completely makes his own, to the extent that it probably shouldn’t even be considered Lemon’s song).

In addition to all the above, Hooker’s version here of “Bottle Up and Go” (by  Tommy McClennan originally, titled here as “Bundle Up and Go”) has to be considered canonical. And if you want to hear pure mojo in effect, check out “I Rowed A Little Boat.” If that don’t give you the chills, then I can’t do a thing for ya.


New Release! “Country Blues” is here!

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“Country Blues” is the brand-new release from Preacher Boy! Purchase direct from CDBaby (digital download or CD) between Black Friday and Cyber Monday, and pay only $4.99!

“Raw, powerful, foot-stomping interpretations of country blues classics as only Preacher Boy can deliver them. Accompanied solely by his 1936 National Resophonics, the Alt Blues pioneer pounds out songs by Bukka White, Blind Willie Johnson, Charley Patton, and more.”

“A devious storm of gothic Americana and gritty country blues.” 

Get your copy TODAY!


The World Is Going Wrong

Feel bad this mornin’
Ain’t got no home
No use a-worryin’
‘Cause the world gone wrong

I can’t be good no more
Once like I did before
I can’t be good, baby
Honey, because the world’s gone wrong

—from The World Is Going Wrong, by The Mississippi Sheiks

thewestsidesheiks_alt

 

In order to get a new side project off the ground, I’ve been listening to a LOT of The Mississippi Sheiks. Tremendous songwriters (“Sittin’ On Top Of The World,” anybody? Yeah, that was them …), great and powerful instrumentalists (Delta Blues fiddle? Yep, and tough as fu*k to boot …), and genuine Delta royalty, countin’ Sam Chatmon and Charley Patton amongst their kin …

And as you can tell from the lyric above … prophets. Cuz that’s just about how I feel …

This new project is called The Westside Sheiks. It’s gon’ be real, real cool. We’re on to somethin’ … see if you agree … Here’s the very first song we ever performed together …

video link: https://youtu.be/ZK2X0u99Om8

The takeaway tho, is DO be good. You must. No matter how wrong the world feels, you must be good.


Rest in Peace, Robert Lowery

robertlowery_goinawayblues

Robert Lowery’s boots no longer walk the streets of Santa Cruz. Robert Lowery’s fingers no longer pluck and slide on a resonator guitar. Robert Lowery’s voice no longer tells us the stories we need to hear. Robert Lowery’s ears no longer hear the sky songs. Robert Lowery’s eyes no longer watch us as we absorb his lesson. But Robert Lowery’s spirit is still with us, and for this, we are grateful.

Robert Lowery represents a critical thread in the fabric of our musical history and heritage. As I am still sad for myself for having been born too late to have met Mississippi John Hurt in person or seen him play live, I am sad for everyone today who will miss the same experience with Robert Lowery.

I am fortunate. I did meet him in person. I did hear him play live. When he was presented a lifetime achievement award from Santa Clara University, I played with him. Just a few weeks before Robert passed, I was able to play for him, an honor I am all the more grateful for now. With me on stage that night was Virgil Thrasher.

Virgil and Robert occupied a very special world together. This was more than music. They embodied and enacted a story of nobility, humanity, artistry—one that transcended time and place. If history is behaving itself, it is right now dipping its quill into the black ink of time, to write the names Robert Lowery and Virgil Thrasher alongside Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee; alongside Hammie Nixon and Sleepy John Estes; alongside Carey Bell and Louisiana Red; alongside Little Walter and Muddy Waters.

That night but a few weeks ago, when Robert Lowery came to see Virgil and I perform, I asked Robert how he was doing. He said, “not very well.” Honest, straightforward, raw. Just like his music. When he left that night, I spoke from the microphone, and told the small crowd that they had a legend in their midst. The room applauded as he left the building.

“Country bluesman Robert Lowery died today at 85-years-old. His music touched many in Santa Cruz and throughout the blues world. He could tap into the core of Robert Johnson, Blind Boy Fuller, Big Bill Broonzy, and Lightnin’ Hopkins with great authenticity. He was a real treasure. Here is a poster of his last appearance at the New Orleans Jazz Festival, his very favorite event. RIP, Robert.” —Virgil Thrasher

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Answer: Charley Patton, Bukka White, Blind Willie Johnson, Howlin’ Wolf, Dave Van Ronk

Question: Who are your Top 5 Most Influential Vocalists?

 

5MostInfluentialVocalists

Depending on whether you’re at all familiar with my musical career, this may or may not be a surprising list.

But it’s definitely the list. I will never, never, never forget the first moments when I heard each of these singers. Thank you Yazoo Records. Thank you Takoma Records. Thank you Chess Records. Thank you Folkways Records. Thank you to my parents for having a record player in the house. Thank you to Samuel Charters for writing The Country Blues.

And while I’m at it, thank you to my first grade teacher for making fun of my voice when I tried to sing “I Saw Her Standing There.” You set me on a whole different vocal path, lady. And I thank you.

The thing is, if you’ve ever read a review of a Preacher Boy album, you’re probably thinking, why isn’t Tom Waits on this list? After all, virtually every Preacher Boy review in the last 25+ years has managed to mention Tom Waits.

Well, he’s not on my Top 5 list, because he doesn’t belong there.

The thing is, I was intimately and obsessively familiar with the music of the five artists in the title of this post long before I had any idea who Tom Waits was. The reason someone hipped me to Tom Waits in the first place was because they knew the other stuff I was into. It was a former roommate of mine; a college radio DJ. He gave me a Memorex. One side was Mose Allison. On the other, Swordfishtrombones.

Now, was Waits an influence? Absolutely. But not because of his voice per se. He was an influence because THAT voice was writing THOSE songs. That was what made the difference for me.

See, I knew what my voice sounded like. It wasn’t pretty. But that was ok. I didn’t like pretty voices. Charley Patton’s voice made sense to me. Bukka White’s voice made sense to me. Blind Willie Johnson’s voice made sense to me. They were the right voices for their music. That made sense to me.

I knew what my voice sounded like. It wasn’t pretty. But that was ok. I didn’t like pretty voices.

And I knew how I was going to play guitar. I’d heard Mance Lipscomb. I’d heard Fred McDowell. I’d heard Robert Pete Williams. I’d heard Son House. I got it, man. I got it. Ever since I heard Mississippi John Hurt playing Sliding Delta, I knew what I was going to do as a guitarist.

And I knew I was going to be a songwriter.

But that was the problem. How to connect it all? I wasn’t going to write songs like Charley Patton. That wouldn’t have been honest. I knew who I was, and even at a young age, I expected authenticity of myself. So what to do? I didn’t know. I didn’t think I was going to do anything.

Then, I heard “16 Shells From A Thirty-Ought Six.” Vocally, I got it. The man had clearly listened to a lot of the same things I had. And the groove, the rawness, the hypnotic stomping drone-ness of it; I got that. Those were country blues ingredients. But the lyrics. The lyrics. Here was something different. A new sort of language, a new sort of poetry. A sort of rustic, sordid, gritty, earthen, American poetry that was both mystical and soiled. It was at once visionary and hallucinogenic, but also totally raw and present and real and folky and outlandish. A kind of literate and bent hobo prosody. It was Nelson Algren and Gary Snyder and James Wright and Tony Joe White and Jack Kerouac and Carson McCullers and Flannery O’ Connor and Raymond Chandler and Erksine Caldwell and Bob Dylan and Tim Buckley and Townes Van Zandt and Toni Morrison, all rolled into one. I got it. I dug it.

So that’s the Waits influence in a nutshell for me. His music—as represented by that blessed trio of Swordfishtrombones, Frank’s Wild Years, and Rain Dogs— made clear to me it was possible to weld voice and music and lyrics together in ways I hadn’t previously believed entirely possible.

But here’s the thing … and I’m probably gonna get some flack for sayin’ this … but the thing is, Tom Waits can’t play country blues. I can.

So back to my list. Charley Patton. The rawest of them all. Listen to Charley Patton’s vocals on High Water Everywhere. He sounds insane, and like he’s about to die. That’s what I strive for. Bukka White. You can’t get heavier than that. When he sings the line “When can I change my clothes?” you hear the whole history of masculinity and pain in his voice. That’s what I strive for. Blind Willie Johnson. Jesus, listen to my first record. It’s almost embarrassing to me now, how obviously derivative some of my songs are. The Cross Must Move? Please … Still, I’m really proud of that song! It’s still with me today. Derivative or not, it IS authentic to me. I’m still singin’ it and playin’ it today, 21 years after it was released. Howlin’ Wolf. Synonymous with nuanced ferocity. When I first heard the song “Who’s Been Talkin'” I thought, right. That. How do I do that? Dave Van Ronk. This should be obvious. Virtually the only white guy from the whole folk-blues thing in the sixties who could actually sing and play country blues. So yeah, when I heard him, I had hope, man. His approach still informs so much of what I do. But mainly, I just loved that he sung with total and complete full-throated abandon. No mic needed. That’s my barometer of true vocal authenticity. If you NEED a mic? Ain’t interested …

Listen to Charley Patton’s vocals on High Water Everywhere. He sounds insane, and like he’s about to die. That’s what I strive for.

Here’s my recommendations, if you’re not familiar with these voices. Start with these songs:

  • Charley Patton: High Water Everywhere, Parts 1 & 2
  • Bukka White: When Can I Change My Clothes
  • Blind Willie Johnson: God Moves On The Water
  • Howlin’ Wolf: I Asked For Water (She Gave Me Gasoline)
  • Dave Van Ronk: Po’ Lazarus

Such beautiful music, man.


Setlist Chronicles -or- The Strange Bird Songs I Played Tonight

Preacher Boy, Mission St. BBQ, photo by Jake J. Thomas

(Preacher Boy, live at Mission St. BBQ. Photo by Jake J. Thomas.)

Kind of an intriguing set tonight, if I do say so myself. I certainly bookended with a pair of the usual suspects, and there were a few other familiar chirps throughout as well, but all in all, quite a lot of strange birds making sonic appearances tonight. Lots of country blues in here. Here’s the full list of what I ran down:

  1. If I Had Possession Over My Judgement Day (Robert Johnson, arr. PB)
  2. Preachin’ Blues (Son House, arr. PB)
  3. Levee Camp Blues (Mississippi Fred McDowell, arr. PB)
  4. Old Jim Granger (from the Preacher Boy album “The Tenderloin EP”)
  5. Diving Duck Blues (Sleepy John Estes, arr. PB)
  6. Evil Blues (Mance Lipscomb, arr. PB)
  7. A Little More Evil (from the Preacher Boy album “The National Blues”)
  8. Revenue Man Blues (Charley Patton, arr. PB)
  9. Milk Cow Blues (Mississippi Fred McDowell, arr. PB)
  10. Catfish Blues (Willie Doss, arr. PB)
  11. The Dogs (from the Preacher Boy album “The Devil’s Buttermilk”)
  12. Spoonful Blues (Charley Patton, arr. PB)
  13. Down And Out In This Town (from the Preacher Boy album “Gutters & Pews”)
  14. Sliding Delta (Mississippi John Hurt, arr. PB)
  15. Stagolee (Mississippi John Hurt, arr. PB)
  16. A Person’s Mind (from the Preacher Boy album “The National Blues”)
  17. Down South Blues (Sleepy John Estes, arr. PB)
  18. Coal Black Dirt Sky (from the Preacher Boy album “Crow”)
  19. Black Crow (from the Preacher Boy album “Crow”)
  20. Railroad (from the Preacher Boy album “Gutters & Pews”)
  21. Motherless Children (Blind Willie Johnson,/Mance Lipscomb/Dave Van Ronk, arr. PB)
  22. Shake ‘Em On Down (Bukka White)

And for your listening pleasure, two straight-from-the-stage-to-yer-ear-buds guerrilla-live tracks:

Preacher Boy – Sliding Delta [LIVE]


(arrangement based on the Mississippi John Hurt version)

Preacher Boy – Levee Camp Blues [LIVE]


(arrangement based on a recorded performance by Mississippi Fred McDowell)

For the guitar heads amongst ye, this version of Sliding Delta is performed on a ’36 National (Grandpa’s National), which is set up for standard tuning. This chords are based on Key of E forms, but the guitar is capo’d at the 4th fret. Levee Camp Blues is performed on a different ’36 National (THE National), and the guitar is tuned to an Open G tuning, then capo’d at the 2nd fret.

For the footwear fanatics amongst ye, the stomps come courtesy of my cowboy boots, which are a Size 13.

 


Rollin’ the PreachSongs Dice

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Tonight, Virgil and I, we gon’ jus’ roll the dice, and see what songs come up. Recent “set lists” (in quotes of course, cuz they’re not exactly planned!) have included songs from just about every Preacher Boy album over the last 20 years (including some I’ve NEVER played live before), plus a whole slew of groovy ol’ country blues gems and other Preachorum Obscurata. Here’s just a sampling:

 

The Cross Must Move & Dead, Boy (from Preacher Boy and the Natural Blues, Blind Pig Records)

Ugly & In The Darkened Night (from Gutters & Pews, Blind Pig Records)

Old Jim Granger & Rollin’ Stone (from The Tenderloin EP, Blind Pig Records, Wah Tup Records)

Black Crow & Coal Black Dirt Sky (from Crow, Wah Tup Records)

The Dogs & At The Corner Of The Top And The Bottom (from The Devil’s Buttermilk, Manifesto Records)

A Little Better When It Rains & One-Way Turnstile (from Demanding To Be Next, Coast Road Records)

A Person’s Mind & A Little More Evil (from The National Blues, Coast Road Records)

 

-plus-

 

Mama, Let Me Play With Your Yo-Yo (Blind Willie McTell)

Stagolee (Mississippi John Hurt)

Levee Camp Blues (Mississippi Fred McDowell)

Milk Cow Blues (Kokomo Arnold)

I Just Hang Down My Head And I Cry (Mance Lipscomb)

Diving Duck Blues (Sleepy John Estes)

Fixin’ To Die (Bukka White)

Preachin’ Blues (Son House)

Spoonful (Charley Patton)

Maggie Campbell (Tommy Johnson)

 

And more, and more, and more!

 

#DIG

 


The 11 Greatest Mississippi John Hurt Songs

I’ve been diggin’ the number 11 of late. It’s got gravitas.

It has theological significance, of course. 12 apostles minus 1 betrayer.

It has numerological significance too, being the first of the “Master Numbers.” A good blues number, given its colloquial reputation as the “old soul” number.

And there is of course the inevitable Nigel Tufnel “one louder” …

Plus, it’s the value of the Ace. RIP Lemmy.

And there is of course that end-of-days urgency, the 11th hour. (An early review of my first album said I sung as if I was about to expire at any minute. I loved that review, and remain proud of it to this day. I like to think I sing like it’s the 11th hour …)

And there are, of course, 11 songs on the new Preacher Boy album, “The National Blues.”

Which brings me to Mississippi John Hurt. My first Country Blues hero.

Narrowing down a list of his songs to a group of favorites is not unlike limiting your breaths to an A list. You can’t really do it. They’re all necessary.

But, in honor of the number 11, I am nonetheless going to present to you a list of what are indisputably the 11 greatest Mississippi John Hurt songs. There can be no doubt this list is 100% accurate, objective, and correct. You’re gonna like it. I guarantee it.

Without further ado, in alphabetical order:

The 11 Greatest Mississippi John Hurt Songs:

Ain’t nobody’s dirty business

It’s in the Key of C, which for my money is Mississippi John’s money key. It’s from the 1928 sessions, which are to be considered the canonical recordings. And it’s just brilliant.

Avalon blues

Without this song, we likely would have been robbed of many more wonderful years of Mississippi John Hurt’s music. Thank you US Postal Service, for making sure that fateful letter made it to Avalon.

Candy man

The song is rightly considered a guitar tour-de-force. They’re largely forgettable lyrics, and honestly, it’s not my favorite Mississippi John song. But it’s simply too hard to deny the sound of the guitar on this cut.

Coffee blues

The Lovin’ Spoonful. Say no more. The song has entered our folklore. The bit about Maxwell House from the live version on Vanguard is worth the price of admission …

Got the blues and I can’t be satisfied

A devastating example of the nuanced and utterly singular way in which Hurt could deliver pathos and joy in the same song. Never have whiskey and murder sounded so jaunty.

I shall not be moved

I include this for personal reasons. It’s always been my mother’s favorite Mississippi John song, and it’s now my daughter’s. My missus and I sing her to sleep with it.

Let the mermaids flirt with me

A criminally overlooked masterpiece for which Mississippi John gets significant songwriting credit.

Louis Collins

Such a beautiful lyric, set to such a beautiful melody: “Miss Collins weep, Miss Collins moan/to see her son Louis leavin’ home/Oh, the angels laid him away.”

Richland women blues

Pound for pound, possibly his greatest song. Killer lyric, both sly and poetic. Killer guitar part; bouncin’, swingin’, and bluesy. Totally masterful vocal. The Alpha and the Omega of American roots music.

Sliding delta

Personal reasons again. The first Mississippi John song I ever heard, and the song that launched me on what is to date a 3o+ years-and-counting love affair with this music.

Stagolee

The canonical murder ballad. THE definitive version.

If you do nothing else for the world today, please just play some Mississippi John Hurt music through speakers, so that this music enters our atmosphere anew. We’ll all be the better for it.

And turn it up to 11.

 


Albums You Should Resolve To Listen (Or ReListen) To In 2016

What follows are a selection of “modern” albums (#AltBlues #CountryBlues #DeltaBlues #AcousticBlues) that for me help define the spirit and mojo of #CountryBlues as it continues to inform, guide, mold, and move our music in these contemporary times. PLEASE never stop listening to Son House, Bukka White, Charley Patton, Mississippi Fred McDowell, Tommy Johnson, Mance Lipscomb, Lightnin’ Hopkins, Blind Willie Johnson, Mississippi John Hurt, Skip James, and so many more, but PLEASE also listen to these records. The spirit is with us, #DIG.

Chris Whitley: Dirt Floor

A modern genius of emotive, genre-defining authenticity; one of the very few who saw in The National a world of new sounds. This is exactly how he should be heard. Raw, naked, pure. Essential modern #AltBlues, vastly under-rated #SingerSongwriter, genuine #Americana.

Kelly Joe Phelps: Shine-Eyed Mister Zen

Kelly Joe’s hallucinatory slide-fueled lyrical spelunking into the wild, weird America of country blues can be both mesmerizing and maddening to follow, but on this album, everything comes together magically. He’s a slide virtuoso, with the perfect voice for these wistful and wandering narcotic narratives. Vital #AcousticBlues that proves #Songwriting is still required.

Alvin Youngblood Hart: Big Mama’s Door

I appreciate every turn that Alvin has taken on his incredible musical path, but I’ll never shake free of my affection for—and appreciation of—this first album. Full disclosure, I was fortunate enough to hear a lot of these performances in progress before Alvin recorded this album, but regardless of any personal connection, the album stands on its own—on very, very, very tall legs. If there is one album that proves #CountryBlues is alive and well today, it’s this one.

Corey Harris: Between Midnight And Day

Corey is another one who has wandered far and wide on his musical journey, and as with giants like Ry Cooder and Taj Mahal (among others) he has done wonderful work enacting the connections that bind this music and its makers and listeners the globe over. Ultimately tho, it’s this record—where he just gets raw and down it it—that I feel his power most. This was the future of the blues when it was first released, and for my money, it still is. Plus, Jesus, his voice … just listen to “Keep Your Lamp Trimmed And Burning” …

John Mooney: Comin’ Your Way

This album (and “Chops Not Chaps” from Roy Rogers) is why I wanted to sign with Blind Pig Records in the first place. John is rightly celebrated for his otherworldly ability to channel the ghost of Son House in his playing and singing (he actually “studied” with him in Rochester, NY!), and he’s also become somewhat of a new champion of the Louisiana sound, but for my money, he’s almost closer to Leon Redbone in spirit. That said, his National playing is another thing altogether, and the hoarse urgency of his voice a force unto itself. Critical #AltBlues that should never be forgotten.

Roy Rogers: Chops, Not Chaps

It gives 1992 for the release date on the Amazon page for this album, but it actually came out in 1986. I was awful young at that point, tho I was already trying to play country blues guitar. But if you’d a told me then I’d one day have my own album with the Blind Pig imprint on the back, I’d a thought you were crazy. At the time, Blind Pig meant not a thing to me. But this album sure did (I had it on a cassette!). I couldn’t honestly believe there was someone out there like Roy, who was doing this. This is a straight up brave album, made at a time when there was NO reason to do this, other than because you loved the music. Canonical #AcousticBlues.

Dave Arcari: Devil’s Left Hand

There are probably a lot of albums and artists that you’d expect to see on this list, that aren’t on this list. Why? Well, probably a few reasons, but honestly, the #1 reason why I don’t include some artists you think might would be obvious is because they don’t sing right. That may sound strange comin’ from a guitar nut like me, but it’s true. As far as I’m concerned, if you’re gonna play this music right, you have to sing it right. And that’s something most “interpreters” of this music just don’t get. If I had a dollar for every bloody so-called blues artist I’ve heard who might as well be a karaoke machine for how accurate their guitar playing is (and how crap their voices are), I could buy every karoake machine in the world, and break it. And that’s why Dave Arcari IS on this list. Sure he plays wild National (also important, wildness! i HATE clean picking!), and sure he writes great songs, but most of all, he SINGS it right. And yes, that’s a Scottish accent you’re hearing.

Will Scott: Gnawbone

I’m totally biased, I admit it. I worked on this album. But it’s a great bloody album, because Will Scott is a great bloody artist. Per my comment above, he sings it right, and he plays it wild. This is dangerous and creepy music, and so soulful, and his voice is dangerous, and his songs are lethal, and his whole juju thing is just invasive and excellent. This voice—Will’s voice—is THE sound of what modern #CountryBlues is capable of.

Lucinda Williams: Car Wheels On A Gravel Road

It’s a funny thing about Lucinda Williams. As far as I’m concerned, it wasn’t until she STOPPED trying to play #CountryBlues that she started to play #CountryBlues. Her early albums are pretty clear attempts to nail that authenticity (listen to “I Asked For Water”), but for me, they don’t make it. But, with this album, suddenly, it’s all there. There isn’t a thing on it that could pass for blues in any conventional sense of the term, but the spirit and the ghosty mojo are there. The Lucinda Williams of this album is as close to a heartbreaking, storytelling Sleepy John Estes as we have today.

Townes Van Zandt: Rear-View Mirror

Townes nuts can argue for hours over which is the best version of this so-very-important musician. The early, plaintive, over-produced but still heartbreaking early Townes, the stumbling, ravaged, but creepily compelling (and also heartbreaking) late Townes, the stripped-down acoustic Townes of Live at the Old Quarter, or some other available iteration. For my money tho, this is the best. The musicians here are SO sympathetic, the song choice is perfect, and Townes is in the perfect middle space where he’s old enough and has seen enough to sound right for his material, but still hearty and hale enough to simply nail every performance with lethal heart mojo perfection. This is #CountryBlues with an emphasis on Country, but if you think this ain’t blues, just listen to “Dollar Bill Blues,” and then be quiet.

 

Bob Log: Log Bomb

Jesus, what can ya say about this cat? Alternative Blues? Pretty much man. I first met him when he was still in Doo Rag. Those were the early days, when just about nobody was playin’ anything resembling Country Blues. So I dug it, big time. And I dig him on his own. Hard to resist. Weird as hell. The NEW weird America. Honestly, hard to pick one album, so start here.

Stevie Tombstone: The Dark Country Blues

This one is a little unfair, since it only just came out, but for God’s sakes, it’s actually called The Dark Country Blues! That pretty much sums it up, man, and if you’re lookin’ for a successor to the way Townes did it—a voice, guitar, and pen that know how to tell the raw stories right—then Mr. Tombstone is your man. #Dig.

16 Horsepower: Sackcloth & Ashes

The greatest band you might never have heard. If Dock Boggs—in all his creepy glory—was Country Blues (and he was) then 16 Horsepower is Country Blues. Raw, Gothic, Gospel Americana at its finest. Too deep. Must listen.

~

I could go on and on and on, but I won’t. Let’s just talk after you’ve given these all a really good listen.

 

 


Brand New Song, First Time Live

fromNewRedCedarBlues

Country Blues walks in Zen Time. Is the musical past impacting the musical present? Of course! So it can be said that the past is here in the present. And of course the present is here in the present. And is the musical present impacting the musical future? Of course! So it may be said that the future is here as well. Thus, the musical past, present, and future are all here now. Country Blues walks in Zen Time.

If you happened to have read the post from December 8th, you would have read of—and perhaps even listened to— my performances of a suite of songs written a century ago. And if you read this post—and perhaps even give a listen to the recording below—you’ll discover a song written in the last week. Past, present, future. Country Blues Zen Time!

Before continuing, may I just say, if you DID read that post, or listen to those songs, and/or if you DO read this post, or listen to this song, thank you!

So, here ’tis. A brand-new song, performed for the first time (just click the song title/link below to stream the live recording). And I should say, whoever “Roger” is, you’re now immortalized in this recording! (listen through to the end, and you’ll see what I mean!). And note, this is a guerrilla-raw live recording:

New Red Cedar Blues (click title to stream)

off the banks where the rapids flow
learn a lil’ somethin’ ‘bout what i know
raccoon is as raccoon does
learn a lil’ somethin’ bout what i was

and the good witch of the river
from deep down in the water
asks for you to give her
your wish upon a quarter
flashin’ silver that you feed her
oh, if you get lost …
dip & swing to red cedar

the thunder sends the lightnin’ first
after that, the cloud bursts
its buckshot through the shadows
to the water’s black staccato

and the good witch of the river
from deep down in the water
asks for you to give her
your wish upon a quarter
flashin’ silver that you feed her
oh, if you get lost …
dip & swing to red cedar

oh my darlin’, oh my darlin’
oh my darlin’, look behind you
in a cavern, in a canyon
if you get lost, i’m gon’ find you
oh, if you get lost …

we left the lake to greet the sun
and got some walkin’ done
follow the leader
back to red cedar

and the good witch of the river
from deep down in the water
asks for you to give her
your wish upon a quarter
flashin’ silver that you feed her
oh, if you get lost …
dip & swing to red cedar

oh my darlin’, oh my darlin’
oh my darlin’, look behind you
in a cavern, in a canyon
if you get lost, i’m gon’ find you
oh, if you get lost …

 


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