Just as the title implies, Raw is Bobby Rush at his most elemental: a man, his acoustic guitar, and his foot stamping out a beat on an amplified board. A little harmonica now and then, and a Dobro played with a bottleneck slide on the rollicking "Glad to Get You Back," but that's it for ornamentation. Although most of 13 songs are Rush originals, he also essays three standards, Larry Williams' early rock classic "Boney Maroney," Muddy Waters' "Good Morning Little Schoolgirl," and – fearlessly – "Howlin' Wolf" itself, which he slows down into a funereal dirge. Rush calls his music "folk funk," but in reality, Rush is the modern equivalent of the first country bluesmen, before the moves to Memphis and Chicago added full-band arrangements and electricity. But Rush isn't a hidebound traditionalist attempting to resurrect a past form for its own sake; Raw crackles with the energy of a musician who knows that he's working in the style that best suits his own personal gifts. This is a hundred times more listenable than yet another blues band plodding through a set of tenth-generation rewrites of "Sweet Home Chicago," and could well be the blues recording of 2007.
It's unfortunate that Tom Rush's third album has such a strong reputation among rock listeners – not that it doesn't deserve it, but it sort of distracts them from this album, which was as natural a fit for rock listeners as any folk album of its era. Rush's debut album is filled with a hard, bluesy brand of folk music that's hard on the acoustic guitar strings and not much easier on his voice; he sings stuff like "Long John" and "If Your Man Gets Busted" with a deep, throaty baritone that's only a little less raw than John Hammond's was while doing his work of the same era. Rush had the misfortune to be equated with Bob Dylan, but he had a more easygoing and accessible personality that comes out on numbers here such as Woody Guthrie's "Do-Re-Mi" and Kokomo Arnold's "Milkcow Blues," which are thoroughly enjoyable and quietly (but totally) beguiling. Additionally, he isn't such a purist that he felt above covering a Leiber & Stoller number such as "When She Wants Good Lovin'."
2004 was the year that Charles Kitteridge Thompson IV seemed to finally find a balance between the legacy of his work with the Pixies and his separate identity as a solo artist. After all, that year's reunion with the Pixies could have only come about because he felt secure enough in his work as Frank Black to revisit the songs he wrote as Black Francis. The two-disc set Frank Black Francis also bridges the gap between his personas, offering a disc of solo demos recorded the day before the Pixies went into the studio to record The Purple Tape (half of which became Come on Pilgrim), and a disc of recent studio recordings with Pere Ubu and David Thomas collaborators the Two Pale Boys that revisits and reinvents some of the Pixies' key songs…
This powerhouse set of live recordings from early in Robben Ford's distinguished career boasts solo-laden 10-minute-plus versions of B.B. King's "Sweet Sixteen" and John Lee Hooker's "It's My Own Fault." Ford, who has worked with Joni Mitchell, Miles Davis, and George Harrison, plays surprisingly sweet, agile saxophone on Don Raye's jazz ballad "You Don't Know What Love Is." His voice–if still that of a very young man–is throaty and melodic on the King and Hooker cuts. But it's his guitar that takes centerstage. Owing heaps to electric bluesmen B.B., Otis Rush, Buddy Guy, Albert King, and Mike Bloomfield, Ford's rich tone, deliberate lines, and tuneful bends were world-class even in 1972.