I don't know exactly how I converted to the blues. My favorite song when I was 6 was "Bad to the Bone" by George Thorogood. I'm fascinated by the idea that a musical style can embody an emotion, but I'm not usually a fan of subtlety. Here's a list of blues songs so loud you don't have to guess at what the singer is feeling.
Rockin' Daddy by Howlin' Wolf
I started listening to Howlin' Wolf my junior or senior year of high school. I first heard of him on the "Screamin' and Hollerin'" station (now defunct) on accuradio.com. I couldn't believe there was an artist who called himself "Howlin' Wolf" and I'd never heard of him. What's more, the name fit the singer perfectly. He sounded like some big cartoon wolf, growling his lyrics and even howling on choruses.
For a few months, I thought I was the only person on the planet who had heard of him. (That's changed now. A couple of weeks ago, I was listening to "Smokestack Lightning" in the office and a co-worker identified it as "the song from the Viagra commercial.") Fortunately, I wasn't the only person who heard of Howlin' Wolf. He influenced blues-rock giants like Cream and the Rolling Stones. This track, done for the Howlin' Wolf London Sessions, was recorded with Eric Clapton on lead guitar, Hubert Sumlin (one of Howlin' Wolf's guitarists) on rhythm guitar, Ian Stewart and Charlie Watts of the Rolling Stones on piano and drums, respectively, and Phil Upchurch on bass. Howlin' Wolf shows a lot of fight for a man in his 60s, and the bass and piano really carry the track.
Act Nice and Gentle by the Black Keys
Shortly after I discovered Howlin' Wolf on Accuradio, a friend told me about Pandora. I tested it out, and it was either on "Howlin' Wolf Radio" or "Ball and Biscuit Radio" that I heard the Black Keys. The music's texture hooked right into my guts. The lonesome slide guitar wailing in the background, the raw, growling guitar and Dan Auerbach's weary but soulful voice again made me wonder why the band wasn't in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I listened to track previews of Rubber Factory every time I went to Borders, worried that some secret task force of Black musicians would swoop in, snatch the CD from my hands and punish me for appropriating their music. A little while later, I learned with a shock that Rubber Factory had been released the previous year, and the Black Keys were a couple of geeky white guys from Ohio. I still sometimes wonder if Auerbach got vocal chords transplanted from a 50-year-old organ donor.
Hello Operator by the White Stripes
I never thought Jack White was black for a second. That didn't stop me from appreciating his approach to the blues, though. One great thing about the White Stripes is you seldom have to analyze their music -- what you hear is what you get.
The Gospel According to John by the Soledad Brothers
Oddly enough, I eventually stopped worrying about the Black Key's theft of African American music because the Soledad Brothers were much worse. One of their albums has the Black Panthers logo on it. If anyone is trying harder to be black than Eminem, it's the Soledad Brothers.
The vocals on this track (and pretty much on every track by the Soledad Brothers) suck. Someone here is confusing soul with fake southern accents. Thankfully, the guitars are loud enough to drown them out. The Interstate-inspired guitar is as loud as the White Stripes, but less vicious.
Ventilator Blues by the Rolling Stones
If anyone can find another song with double-tracked vocals and slide guitar, please let me know. When I head this song, I thought some indie band like the Shins or Pinback invented double-tracking, but I'm glad I was wrong.
Vampires and Failures by Grandpaboy
Who is Grandpaboy when he's at home, you might ask. It's Paul Westerberg, former punk rocker. In 2002, Westerberg released Stereo under his own name and Mono under the pseudonym Grandpaboy. Ironically, the tracks on Mono are much richer musically. Westerberg doesn't always counterbalance his vocals, and most of the time comes off as the anemic ghost of Tom Petty, but the ground-shaking bass in this track counteract him perfectly. Westerberg opens up the soundscape with echoes and backup vocals. During the last chorus, it sounds like he's cutting someone's hair with electric clippers.
Turkey and the Rabbit by T-Model Ford
Once, as a misssionary in Ishigaki, I knocked on the door of an old woman. We started talking to her about the meaning of life. She didn't seem to understand our broken Japanese, but seemed happy to talk to us. "Hey now," she said, "I'm, you know, I'm--" She paused, and I was sure she was going to say she was an ancestor worshiper and not interested in Christianity. "I'm 105 years old."
T-Model Ford is somewhere between 88 and 92 years old and can't remember his own birthdate. Every once in a while, you meet someone so old you can't understand a thing they say -- but you can't stop listening, either, as if they're chanting some spell to keep you entranced. I'd love to see someone try to tell him to turn his music down.
Pride and Joy by Stevie Ray Vaughan with Albert King
I really can't tell what's different about this version of Pride and Joy, other than the bass is cranked way up. It makes me feel like I'm jumproping with moonboots on. There might be another guitar part, some piano in there, but I can't really hear it. Vaughan exhibits here one of the only things white bluesmen ever invented -- he sings the song exactly the same as he always does.
Catfish Blues by Jimi Hendrix
I never considered the advantages of being a catfish until I head this Muddy Waters cover. While I'm not sure of the logic involved, I've since said I wished I was a catfish many times. Sometimes several times a day (ask Sarah).
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