50 Electric Blues Guitar Licks

This 1988 outing is another seamless part of the thread that is this eclectic West Coast band, brimming with equal parts good humor and sensational playing. Charlie Baty tears into his guitar on the opener, "That's My Girl," and keeps the heat up throughout this set, turning in jazzy work on "My Money's Green," rockabilly licks galore on "She's Talking," and getting quite bluesy on the slow one, "V-8 Ford." Rick Estrin contributes explosive harp work on "Nervous," "I Ain't Lyin'," and "Don't Boss Me," plus vocals full of sly charm on every track along the line. If you like these guys, add this one to the shopping cart if you haven't already.

With his chocolaty cool, soulful Memphis croon and sure sense of melody, Robert Cray has never been considered a straightahead bluesman. His often interchangeable albums have instead stayed closer to R&B, adding compact, stinging lead guitar to songs about matters of the heart. That formula remains, with minor variations, on Cray's 14th release, rather confusingly named Twenty. The title track, a gripping, emotional anti-war ballad of the experience of a GI in Iraq (that, incidentally, doesn't contain the word "twenty") shows the singer/songwriter shifting his emotionally charged storytelling lyrics to the political arena. It's a brief but confident detour from his usual M.O. of relationships on the brink of collapse or in general disrepair, typically related in the first person. Subtle yet effective forays into loungey jazz on "My Last Regret" and even reggae on the opening "Poor Johnny" indicate a healthy tendency to push his established envelope, if only gently, into other genres. But Cray sticks to his established bread and butter for the majority of this sturdy album, effortlessly churning out shoulder-swaying, foot-tapping R&B accompanied by a clean, clear tenor voice and a road-hardened band that finesses these songs with the perfect combination of fire and ice. Old fans won't be disappointed, and newcomers can start here and work backwards.

Howlin' Wolf's first and second Chess albums are essential listening of the highest order. They were compiled - as were all early blues albums - from various single sessions (not necessarily a bad thing, either), and blues fans will probably debate endlessly about which of the two albums is the perfect introduction to his music. But this CD reissue renders all arguments moot, as both album appear on one disc, making this a true best buy. Wolf's debut opus – curiously tacked on here after his second album - features all of his early hits ("How Many More Years," "Moanin' at Midnight," "Smokestack Lightning," "Forty Four," "Evil," and "I Asked for Water [She Gave Me Gasoline]"), and is a pretty potent collection in its own right. But it is the follow-up (always referred to as "the rocking chair album" because of Don Bronstein's distinctive cover art) where the equally potent teaming of Willie Dixon and Wolf produced one Chicago blues classic…

Howlin' Wolf's first and second Chess albums are essential listening of the highest order. They were compiled - as were all early blues albums - from various single sessions (not necessarily a bad thing, either), and blues fans will probably debate endlessly about which of the two albums is the perfect introduction to his music. But this CD reissue renders all arguments moot, as both album appear on one disc, making this a true best buy. Wolf's debut opus – curiously tacked on here after his second album - features all of his early hits ("How Many More Years," "Moanin' at Midnight," "Smokestack Lightning," "Forty Four," "Evil," and "I Asked for Water [She Gave Me Gasoline]"), and is a pretty potent collection in its own right. But it is the follow-up (always referred to as "the rocking chair album" because of Don Bronstein's distinctive cover art) where the equally potent teaming of Willie Dixon and Wolf produced one Chicago blues classic…

The blues of Lurrie Bell comes from a turbulent place, but there's no denying the man can play. This album brings together tracks from three different sessions, the bulk being held in 1997. Supported by a spartan rhythm section, Bell sprays kamikaze guitar licks over a bevy of old standards like "Five Long Years," "Who Do You Love," "Mean Old Frisco," and "You're the One." The last four songs on the album are the real treat; cut in 1995 at the Mercurial Son sessions, this is just Lurrie and his electric guitar running through raw, soulful, and sometimes whacked-out versions of everything from "Rollin' and Tumblin'" to "If I Had a Hammer." If you've wondered what all the fuss is about, grab this CD and turn on to the blues world of Lurrie Bell.

In 1969 – some three years before his self-titled debut solidified his stature as a pre-eminent string bender – Roy Buchanan (guitar/vocals) signed with Polydor Records and began work on his first full-length platter. In 2004, three-and-a-half decades later, the audio archivists at Hip-O Select finally issued The Prophet: The Unreleased First Polydor Album (2004)…

The live attempts at recreating the seminal jam chemistry of Super Session were hit-and-miss affairs, and this one, previously unreleased, has its fair share of off-key and off-target tunes. The rhythm section is erratic, the repertoire–ranging from Simon & Garfunkel's "59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin' Groovy)" to an Elvis-flavored "That's All Right Mama"–is a bit odd, and co-leader Al Kooper is competent but rarely inspired. Guitarist Michael Bloomfield, however, is uniformly brilliant and his graceful blues virtuosity is by itself well worth the price of admission. Bloomfield and the group are joined on B.B. King's "It's My Own Fault" by a then-unknown Johnny Winter and things get really interesting.

The night was November 26, 1995; the club: Richard's on Richards in Vancouver; and the lineup with Duke Robillard comprised Marty Ballou on bass, Marty Richards on drums, and "Sax" Gordon Beadle on tenor and baritone sax. They were touring with Jimmy Witherspoon and this album captures the set before they brought "Spoon" to the stage. It was taped for the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation's "Saturday Night Blues" program with host Holger Petersen. Seven of the nine songs on Stretchin' Out also appear on 1996's Duke's Blues. That one is truly a gem, but for fans who don't have it yet, one might recommend this recording instead. "Too Hot to Handle" and "That's My Life" are the only tracks that aren't on Duke's Blues. Even if you do have Duke's Blues, Stretchin' Out is still well worth the purchase because of the great extended jams and shoot-from-the-hip guitar licks you won't find anywhere else. Robillard sings a few bars on Albert Collins' "Dyin' Flu" with no mic. You have to strain to hear him over the inevitable amplifier hums and crowd support of a live recording (one fan yells "Duke it out!"), but that's what makes it so cool and compelling.