Bill Wither 'bout Love

Few singers have possessed a baritone as rich and comforting as that of Bill Withers. Even smaller in number are the songwriters who have shared the West Virginian's natural ability to articulate a comprehensive range of emotions and perspectives – jubilation and gratitude, jealousy, and spite – with maximal levels of conviction and concision. Late to arrive, the everyman R&B paragon had just turned 33 when "Ain't No Sunshine," the unfading ballad off Just as I Am (1971), made him a sudden and unlikely success story, within one year an aircraft mechanic-turned-million-selling, Grammy-winning artist. Through the next ten years, Withers continued to meld soul, gospel, folk, and funk with rare finesse. He collected more gold singles with "Lean on Me" and "Use Me," both off the similarly successful Still Bill (1972), reached the same height with Menagerie (1977), led by "Lovely Day," and was handed a second Grammy for "Just the Two of Us" (1981), his collaboration with Grover Washington, Jr. Early to leave, Withers made his last statement with Watching You Watching Me (1985), closing a songbook that has served as a bountiful resource for artists from a multitude of stylistic persuasions. Given his flowers before his death at the age of 81, Withers was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Few singers have possessed a baritone as rich and comforting as that of Bill Withers. Even smaller in number are the songwriters who have shared the West Virginian's natural ability to articulate a comprehensive range of emotions and perspectives – jubilation and gratitude, jealousy, and spite – with maximal levels of conviction and concision. Late to arrive, the everyman R&B paragon had just turned 33 when "Ain't No Sunshine," the unfading ballad off Just as I Am (1971), made him a sudden and unlikely success story, within one year an aircraft mechanic-turned-million-selling, Grammy-winning artist. Through the next ten years, Withers continued to meld soul, gospel, folk, and funk with rare finesse. He collected more gold singles with "Lean on Me" and "Use Me," both off the similarly successful Still Bill (1972), reached the same height with Menagerie (1977), led by "Lovely Day," and was handed a second Grammy for "Just the Two of Us" (1981), his collaboration with Grover Washington, Jr. Early to leave, Withers made his last statement with Watching You Watching Me (1985), closing a songbook that has served as a bountiful resource for artists from a multitude of stylistic persuasions. Given his flowers before his death at the age of 81, Withers was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

On his fourth outing for Blind Pig Records, Bill Perry takes his own brand of modern electric blues and turbocharges it. Perry's songwriting has been developing consistently from the 1990s during his tenure with Virgin's Point Blank label. And while it's true most blues fans only care about that fiery guitar playing of his, the real depth of his writing was revealed on the Blind Pig releases Crazy Kind of Life and Raw Deal. Here, combining tight, tough hooks on tunes like "My Baby Loves to Dance," and the National Steel-driven "I Don't Know Nothin' Bout Love" and "Waitin' for My Luck to Change," actually fall in line with a lyric sensibility that's clever and humorous.