Guy

Buddy Guy revitalized his career when he signed with Silvertone Records in the early '90s. His first album for the label, Damn Right, I've Got the Blues, was a smash success, earning critical acclaim, awards, and sales hand over fist. Prior to that record, he was a legend only among blues fans; afterward, he was a star. Although it was a bit too rock-oriented and slick for purists, Damn Right was a terrific album, setting the pace not only for Guy but for modern electric blues in the '90s. As the decade wore on, Guy continued to make albums for Silvertone, some of them a little complacent, others quite excellent. Buddy's Baddest: The Best of Buddy Guy attempts to summarize those years in 14 songs, including three previously unreleased cuts.

The Godfather of contemporary blues, who took modern Chicago blues and embellished it with the bite, fire, and flash of rock & roll, Buddy Guy had not yet broken through in America (although he was much appreciated in Europe) when he recorded three albums for JSP Records between 1979 and 1981, including this, the middle one, which found Guy working with a solid session band of guitarists Doug Williams, William McDonald, and Phil Guy, saxophonist Maurice John Vaughn, keyboardists Gene Pickett and Eddie Lusk, bassists Nick Charles and J.W. Williams, and drummers Merle Perkins and Ray Allison. It's vintage Guy, and shows the raw but applied talent and showmanship that would eventually bring him the large American audience he so justly deserved in the 1990s. A 2008 re-release added three bonus tracks.

Buddy Guy today remains one of the true international superstars of the Blues. One of his musically most glorious periods was the three classic albums he cut for JSP Records ("D.J. Play My Blues" "Breaking Out" and "Live at the Checkerboard Lounge") and the guesting on brother Phil Guy's wonderful debut album "Red Hot Blues". This compilation features some of the best cuts from that period and those albums. Buddy plays some hot guitar here and is stylistically moving forward from his sixties stuff to the ultra commercial things of today. Buddy always knew that the world would catch up eventually and he would become a superstar - the music here will tell you why.

The Godfather of contemporary blues, who took modern Chicago blues and embellished it with the bite, fire, and flash of rock & roll, Buddy Guy had not yet broken through in America (although he was much appreciated in Europe) when he recorded three albums for JSP Records between 1979 and 1981, including this, the middle one, which found Guy working with a solid session band of guitarists Doug Williams, William McDonald, and Phil Guy, saxophonist Maurice John Vaughn, keyboardists Gene Pickett and Eddie Lusk, bassists Nick Charles and J.W. Williams, and drummers Merle Perkins and Ray Allison. It's vintage Guy, and shows the raw but applied talent and showmanship that would eventually bring him the large American audience he so justly deserved in the 1990s.

Guy Davis has developed into a consummate bluesman. He's listened hard to classic Delta blues and based his style on it, without ever becoming a carbon copy of the greats. Instead they're his jumping-off point into something as individual as "Layla, Layla," where didgeridoo makes an appearance, or the poignant "Joppatowne." Equally adept on guitar, banjo, and harmonica, he's become a force of nature, with the ability to write a song like "I Don't Know" that sounds as if it had come directly from the '30s, alongside covers of Fred McDowell, Big Bill Broonzy, and Sleepy John Estes. The originals and older work mesh perfectly, the sign of a real bluesman. And, of course, he's capable of working the other side of the coin to blues, in gospel, as the closer, "God's Unchanging Hand," clearly shows. This is the tradition reborn and revitalized. Davis' support is wonderfully sympathetic, but he's completely at the center of things, the motivator and mover of this music, and a purveyor of the real blues. His lineage is obvious, and he's the new generation, doing it right and keeping it real.

With each new release, the clothes of an old bluesman fit Guy Davis more and more comfortably. By now the blues are completely a part of who he is, so when he reworks an old Sleepy John Estes song into the opener, "Limetown," it feels completely natural; even with the familiar "Rollin' And Tumblin'" riff. He mixes it up well between covers and originals, taking in quite a range – there's John Lee Hooker, Willie Dixon, and Blind Lemon Jefferson all sitting amicably together in his style; as well as some pieces like "Step It Up And Go" that are just plain old. His own material is less familiar, of course, but just as good, with the careful (if not wholly accurate) patina of age about it. Perhaps the best thing about Davis is that he never tries to be something he's not; there's no fake Southern accent. What you hear is what you get. And while he's hardly the guitar genius that Charley Patton and Robert Johnson were, he's more than adequate, and his excellent band backs him up solidly and subtly, never stepping out too far. There's plenty of talent in Davis, but there's also an obvious and deep love for the blues, especially the rural country blues, and he brings to his music a real timelessness. The man just keeps getting better and better.