Backed by the newest star rhythm section, Double Trouble, three rather disparate characters get
together and discover what they have in common. While this underpinning might suggest
otherwise, this is not strictly a blues album. It might be a rhythm and blues, but this is
not the regular stuff. Tommy Castro, for example, has been playing in roadhouses for the past
decade on other labels. No, this is a bit like an updated Wet Willie, the band for whom Jimmy Hall
was a mainstay.
Grits ain't groceries, eggs ain't poultry, and Mona Lisa was a Man...
This trio of leaders steers its way through originals and soul standards. "Sometimes," a Jones
original, is 100% barrelhouse with all three singing and Hall's harmonica insinuating itself from the
background. Reese Wynans' uncredited roadhouse piano tinkles softly, driving this three minutes of
heaven. Jimmy Hall sings his "If That Ain't Love," harp potent and dark. It makes you
miss Wet Willie. This is how a blazing session begins.
But okay, I lied. Johnny Winter's "Be Careful with a Fool" is fully a blues. A hot-shit-
I'm gonna-sit-in-yo'-lap slow blues.. The very familiar Double Trouble rhythm section which once
backed SRV can be so perfect. Tommy Castro cooks everything to a white heat, Tommy Shannon
chording on the bass, giving the song that full power-trio sound that Hendrix, Cream and then SRV
perfected. Sanctification is what they call it in the church, and Tommy Castro worships at the
Temple of Blues. Jimmy Hall supplies as fine a harp solo as one could desire. If Johnny Winter was
the quintessential Rolling Stones interpreter, then Tommy Castro is the quintessential interpreter of
Johnny Winter.
Up comes the album's big surprise. It takes a pair or uranium balls to cover the Beatles'
"Help!" How does it come off? No assistance required. The group thoroughly
transforms the song, like Delbert McClinton took John and Paul to a Southern Baptist Church in
white East Texas and had Jerry Lee Lewis, Jimmy Swaggart, and Mickey Gilley over to compose a
song for the next Sunday's service. Rather than a mid-sixties British love song, it becomes a
Caucasian country blues lamenting the conflict between Saturday night and Sunday morning.
"Whole Lotta Soul" is infused with the spirit of Otis Redding; "Good Good
Lovin'" is a James Brown rave up. The Lloyd Jones blues shuffle "Raised in the
Country" provides a tastefully greasy guitar solo, warding off the roadhouse, and both guitarists
get to take their turn, as if with that willing country cheerleader beneath the bleachers after a
small-town football victory. [Ahem. Right. –Ed.] "Mammer Jammer" sounds too much
like the J. Geils Band's "Whammer Jammer" for comfort. Instead, it becomes a Sha-Na
Na shuffle.
There is no doubt that this is a very fun record. I expected a lot less and was more than
surprised at how fine this music is. Rock on.
For more information, see Telarc Blues.
~ C. Michael Bailey
