As authentic as the lines on his forehead and his droopy eyes, veteran bluesman Charlie Musselwhite gets better with age. (At 62, he's a respected survivor with dozens of albums to his credit.) On Delta Hardware the journeyman musician pays tribute to, and revels in, his Mississippi roots. Although he's spent time in Chicago and on the West Coast, for this album of churning swamp and deep Southern blues he taps his formative years in the town of Kosciusko. Musselwhite's poignant voice and crying harmonica convey loss and sadness on the tense, swirling "Black Water," one of two tracks dealing with Hurricane Katrina.
The Kilborn Alley Blues Band is the real deal, a rip snortin', fire breathin' gang that puts heart and soul into every note they play. Gritty, raw, and a bit sloppy in the best sense of the word, they hold nothing back and play the blues with a nasty rock edge that will appeal to youngsters as well as die-hard fans. They kick things off with "I'm Spent," a Chicago-meets-the Delta rave-up with hints of Little Walter in the wailing harmonica work of Joe Asselin. Andrew Duncanson lays back on the lead guitar to deliver a sweaty lead vocal while Asselin's honking accents up the ante. "Christmas in County" has a Memphis soul feel, the sad tale of a Christmas Eve drug bust, with stinging lead guitar work from Duncanson and wailing harp from Asselin laid down over the sinister groove of Chris Breen's bass and Ed O'Hara's drums. "Come Home Soon" has a bit of Al Green in its arrangement, a sad tale of a soldier in Iraq longing for his family. Sideman Gerry Hundt's organ provides a churchy, sanctified vibe to the proceedings, complementing Duncanson's sparse, stinging guitar and weary vocal.
The various bands led by harmonica player and singer George "Mojo" Buford hark back to the classic Chicago blues sounds of the early '60s. Among harmonica players, Buford has the distinction of being the only musician to have played with various bands led by the late Muddy Waters in the 1950s, '60s, '70s, and '80s. (Waters died in April 1981.) Buford left Mississippi for Memphis in his teens and honed his chops around Memphis before heading to Chicago in 1952. He began playing with Waters in Chicago in the late '50s, but by 1962 Buford relocated to Minneapolis, where he recorded several obscure albums for the Vernon and Folk-Art labels. He rejoined Waters' band in 1967 for a full year and then toured with him again in the early '70s, after harmonica player Jerry Portnoy left to form the Legendary Blues Band…
Recording may be a relatively new luxury to Neal Pattman, but in life he is a grizzled veteran. His first album is a stark affair, almost an eavesdrop into a backroom rehearsal. A frisky harp player and singer, Pattman is joined by Taj Mahal and labelmate Cootie Stark on over half the album, and together and in various configurations the trio turns out some fine, jaunty country blues. There are, however, a number of clumsy stabs at testimonial blues, and these diminish the appeal of the album as a whole. In fact, everything has a clumsiness about it, and when it swings in favor of the musicians, it can be quite charming. When it doesn't, though, it can come off as plain gawky.
In the '70s, harmonica man Billy Branch was one of the young upstarts helping to keep the Chicago blues sound alive; in the 21st century, he's matured into one of the Windy City's most venerable blues talents, and as a musician and educator, Branch has spread the word about the blues across the country and around the world. Branch has led the Sons of Blues, his backing band, since the mid-'70s, and despite numerous personnel changes, the SOBs have never wavered in their dedication to pure, unadulterated Chicago blues.