Category: Blues

Taj Mahal – She Caught the Katy (And Left Me a Mule to Ride)

I’ve become a Taj Mahal fan in the past few years, as I was previously unfamiliar with him, except for his name. Also, with THAT title, I don’t care who it was by, I would have to listen to it. Sometimes I know the names of artists, but when I see the passion of other bloggers toward them, I want to check these artists out.  It’s not always what stats or facts the blogger writes or comments; it’s the enthusiasm you can tell they have for the performer. It makes you think…hmmm…I’m really missing something here!

His real name is Henry Saint Clair Fredericks Jr., and he was born in Harlem in 1942 and grew up in a musical home. His father was a jazz arranger, and his mother sang gospel, which gave him early exposure to American roots music. After moving to California in the early 1960s, he became part of the rising folk and blues scene, mixing country blues with elements of jazz, Caribbean music, and R&B.

His first major break came with his self-titled debut in 1968, followed closely by The Natch’l Blues. These records helped reintroduce older blues styles to a younger rock audience without changing their original feel. Instead of copying one tradition, Taj Mahal connected Delta blues, jug band music, rural folk, and modern sounds into a single sound that felt natural and current.

The song has since become a blues standard, and it earned that spot. I first heard it in The Blues Brothers movie. Mahal has said the song was built from older blues travel songs that talked about trains, leaving town, and getting left behind. Taj Mahal pulled those themes together and shaped them into something new, keeping the story simple and the rhythm moving.

This was on his second album, The Natch’l Blues, released in 1968. On lead guitar, we have Jesse Ed Davis, Gary Gilmore on Bass, Chuck Blackwell on drums, Earl Palmer on drums, and on piano, none other than Al Kooper. Kooper pops up everywhere in the history of blues, rock, and pop.

The band played mostly live in the room, locking into a steady groove before adding small fills. Guitar and piano stayed in short phrases, never stepping over the vocal.

Taj Mahal – She Caught the Katy (And Left Me a Mule to Ride)

She caught the Katy and left me a mule to ride
She caught the Katy and left me a mule to ride
Well, my baby caught the Katy
She left me a mule to ride
The train pulled out and I swung on behind
I’m crazy ’bout her
That hard-headed woman of mine

Man, my baby long
Great, God, she mighty, she tall
You know my baby long
Great God, she mighty, my baby tall
Well, you know my baby, she long
My baby, she tall
She sleep with her head in the kitchen
And her big feet’s out in the hall
And I’m still crazy about her
That hard-headed woman of mine

I love my baby
She’s so fine
I wish she’d come to save me sometime
‘Cause she don’t believe I love her
Look what a hole I’m in
And she don’t believe I’m singin’
What look what a shape I’m in

She caught the Katy and left me a mule to ride
She caught the Katy and left me a mule to ride
Well, my baby caught the Katy
Left me a mule to ride
The train pulled out and I swung on behind
Well, I’m crazy ’bout her
That hard-headed woman
Hard-headed woman of mine

Canned Heat – Rollin’ and Tumblin’

A few weeks ago, Lisa posted something on the Monterey Pop Festival with the Animals. After we got our power back on last week, I was browsing through Tubi, and there it was. It’s been so long since I saw the Monterey Pop Festival, I clicked play, and Canned Heat impressed the hell out of me with this song. Alan Wilson’s guitar and especially Bob Hite’s vocal. 

This is their take on an old Delta blues standard that goes back to Hambone Willie Newbern, Robert Johnson, and later Muddy Waters. Canned Heat didn’t try to modernize it too much. They kept the pulse steady, the guitar lines loose, and the vocal right up front, like it was happening in the room.

Bob “The Bear” Hite sings it rough but clear, leaning into the rhythm instead of forcing it. His voice is outstanding, and I know many who would kill to have it. Alan “Blind Owl” Wilson’s slide guitar moves in short phrases, answering the vocal like a second voice. The band holds everything in place with everything going in forward motion.

Canned Heat understood the song didn’t need fixing. They honored the blues structure and let feel do the work. It’s not about showing off licks, just getting the essence of the song right. Simple, direct, and built to roll all the way through. They are one of those underrated bands of the sixties, known for their 3 hits Going Up the Country (1968), On the Road Again (1968), and Let’s Work Together (1970). They are far better than that. A live album by them and John Hooker I can’t recommend enough called Hooker ‘n Heat. 

Rollin’ and Tumblin’

Well, I rolled ‘n’ tumbled
I cried the whole night long
Oh well, I rolled ‘n’ tumbled
I cried the whole night long
Oh well, I had the feelin’, baby
Something’s goin’ on wrong

Oh well, I really love you, baby
Come on and say you’ll be mine
Oh well, I really love you, baby
Come on and say you’ll be mine
Well, if you don’t like my taters
Don’t you dig up my vine

Oh well, I cried last night, mama
I cried the night before
Oh well, I cried last night, mama
I cried the night before
Oh well, I had the feelin’, baby
You don’t love me no more

Well, if the river was whiskey
I was a divin’ duck
Well, if the river was whiskey
I was a divin’ duck
Well, I would swim to the bottom
Baby, I wouldn’t come up

Oh well, I rolled ‘n’ tumbled
I cried the whole night long
Oh well, I rolled’ ‘n’ tumbled
I cried the whole night long
Oh well, I had the feelin’, baby
Something’s goin’ on wrong

Robert Cray – Smoking Gun

Robert Cray was a delight to hear in the 1980s. SRV, Robert Cray, Eric Clapton, and a few others received significant radio play in that decade. It was great hearing the guitar-dominant songs.

The song was recorded for Strong Persuader, the album that changed Robert Cray’s career. The sessions focused on sound clarity and guitar, not excess. Producers Bruce Bromberg and Dennis Walker kept the arrangements tight, making sure the rhythm section stayed locked in.

The song’s success was helped by radio and MTV, which was unusual for a blues artist at the time. The video, simple and story-driven, fit the song’s mood and helped it cross formats. That exposure turned this song into a breakout hit and pushed Strong Persuader into success. This song helped him get to a wider audience, and he didn’t lose who he was.

His guitar tone is remarkably clean and controlled in this song. Sometimes, it’s not what you put into a song, but what you leave out. Silent spaces let songs breathe, and I think that is a big part of this. The song peaked at #22 on the Billboard 100 in 1986. The album peaked at #13 on the Billboard Album Charts, #34 in Canada, #5 in New Zealand, and #34 in the UK.

Smoking Gun

I get a constant busy signal
When I call you on the phone
I get a strong, uneasy feeling
You’re not sitting there alone

I’m having nasty, nasty visions
And baby you’re in every one, yeah
And I’m so afraid I’m gonna find you with
A so-called smoking gun

Maybe you wanna end it
You’ve had your fill with my kind of fun
But you don’t know how to tell me
And you know that I’m not that dumb

I put two and one together
And you know that’s not an even sum
And I know just where to catch you with
That well-known smoking gun

I’m standing here, bewildered
I can’t remember just what I’ve done
I can hear the sirens whining
My eyes blinded by the sun

I know that I should be running
My heart’s beating just like a drum
Now they’ve knocked me down and taken it
That still-hot smoking gun

Yeah, yeah, still-hot smoking gun
They’ve taken it, the still-hot smoking gun
Oh, they’ve taken it, still-hot smoking gun
They’ve knocked me down
And taken it
Oh

Third Mind – Reno, Nevada

Back a few years ago, I got into The Blasters. Since then, I’ve followed their guitar player, Dave Alvin,  into different bands and soloed all over the map. I never say this phrase much, but Dave Alvin is a true American treasure. I’ve heard the man play roots rockabilly, old country, punk, rock and roll, hard rock, and psychedelic/jazz type of music as The Third Mind. It’s nothing that this man can’t do on guitar. 

The Third Mind is a band co-founded by Dave Alvin and bassist Victor Krummenacher (of Camper Van Beethoven) with the idea of creating spontaneous, live-in-the-studio music without rehearsals. The concept is inspired by the free-form recording techniques of artists like Miles Davis, where musicians simply pick a key, start playing, and let the performance evolve organically.

They took this folk song by Richard Farina and gave it some bite with Alvin’s guitar. It’s a folk song stretched into something wider, keeping the original intact. I have also heard them cover Dark Star and Morning Dew (a song originally written and recorded by Canadian Folk singer Bonnie Dobson) by the Grateful Dead. Reno, Nevada, is on the 2025 album Right Now!. This song feels like a drive through the desert at night.

Dave Alvin: I had a crazy idea and was looking for musicians who perhaps didn’t think it was so insane. Many years ago I’d been reading John Szwed’s excellent biography of Miles Davis, “So What”, and was fascinated by his thorough descriptions of how Mr. Davis and his producer, Teo Macero, created some of his classic electric albums like Bitches Brew and Jack Johnson. Basically, Miles would gather great musicians in a studio, pick a key and a groove and then record everything live over several days. Then he and Mr. Macero would edit and shape these improvisations into compositions. Having never recorded like that, I had a fantasy to try it someday if the fates ever allowed.

One night after a gig in San Francisco, a decade or more later, I mentioned this fantasy to Victor Krummenacher. I’d known the always musically adventurous Mr. Krummenacher for a couple of decades (since he was a young buck bassist in Camper Van Beethoven) and hoped he would understand.

The Third Mind
Dave Alvin: Guitar, Vocals
David Immerglück: Guitar, Keyboards, Vocals
Michael Jerome: Drums, Percussion
Victor Krummenacher: Bass, Vocals
Featuring:
Jesse Sykes: Guitar, Vocals

Here is a full performance by The Third Mind

Reno, Nevada

It’s a long, long way down to Reno, Nevada
And a long, long way to your home
But the change in your pocket is beginning to grumble
And you reap just about what you’ve sown
You can walk down the street, pass your face in the window
You can keep on fooling around
You can work day and night, take a chance on promotion
You can fall through a hole in the ground

Now there ain’t no game like the game you been playing
When you got a little something to lose
And there ain’t no time like the time you been wasting
And you waste just about what you choose
There’s a man at the table and you know he’s been able
To return all the odds that you lay
But you can’t feed your hunger and you ain’t getting younger
And your tongue ain’t got nothing to say

It’s a long, long way down to Reno, Nevada
And a long, long way to your home
But the ground underneath you is beginning to tremble
And the sky up above you has grown
There’s a time to be moving and a time to be grooving
And a time just for climbing the wall
But the odds have been doubled, and it ain’t worth the trouble
And you’re never going nowhere at all

Flatlanders – Long Time Gone

I truly love this band, but I try to limit posting them around once a year. I try that with everyone, but it gets hard at times. The last time I posted them was back in February of this fading year, so I thought it was time for another. I respect them so much because of what they came up with. Joe Ely, Jimmie Dale Gilmore, and Butch Hancock were inventing a whole new kind of Texas country while nobody in Nashville was bothering to look. Their loss!

The song selections and the harmonies hooked me long ago. Their songs are simple and straight to the point, and really catchy. This song was written by Leslie York, and the York Brothers were the first to record it. It’s been covered by The Everly Brothers, Sweethearts of the Rodeo, and The Gibson Brothers. There are other songs by that name by Tex Ritter and a different one by CSN.

They were formed in 1972 by three singer-songwriters: Jimmie Dale Gilmore, Joe Ely, and Butch Hancock. The band was born out of the music scene in Lubbock, Texas, where all three members grew up. They recorded their debut album in Nashville. Initially, the album was released only as an 8-track tape by Plantation Records, with the title “Jimmie Dale and the Flatlanders.” This limited release received little attention at the time, and the band members soon went their separate ways to pursue solo careers, but would reunite to release a total of 10 albums of studio and live.

This song was on the 2021 album Treasure of Love. All three members were songwriters, and all had unique voices that blended so well with each other. Treasure of Love was never intended to be an album, at least not at first. So when Joe Ely started gathering the trio in his home studio in Austin during the early and mid-2000s, it was not for some grand comeback. It was more like old friends swapping songs and capturing whatever happened to be good.

Long Time Gone

You cheated me and left me lonelyI tried to be your very ownThere’ll be a day you’ll want me onlyBut when I leave, I’ll be a long time goneBe a long time goneBe a long time goneYes, when I leave, I’ll be a long time goneYou’re gonna be sad, you’re gonna be weepin’You’re gonna be blue and all aloneYou’ll regret the day you seen me weepin’‘Cause when I leave, I’ll be a long time goneBe a long time goneBe a long time goneYes, when I leave, I’ll be a long time goneYou’ll see my face through tears and sorrowYou’ll miss the love you called your ownBaby, there’ll be no tomorrow‘Cause when I leave, I’ll be a long time goneBe a long time goneBe a long time goneYes, when I leave, I’ll be a long time gone

George Thorogood – Move It On Over

I first heard of George Thorogood when I watched the movie Christine back in the 1980s and the song Bad to the Bone. This song is what a grimy bar (not a dance club) in the 1980s sounded like…trust me. I forgot to thank Matt, who posted this Hank Williams song yesterday.

In this song, George rewires an old Hank Williams song and gives it some kick.  It leaves plenty of space for Thorogood’s overdriven slide guitar to bark and growl. The Destroyers keep things locked in, drums steady, bass walking just enough to keep the floor moving. There’s nothing fancy here, and that’s the point. Thorogood has always understood that blues rock works best when it sounds like it could fall apart at any second but never quite does.

In 1978, they were still an underground band, a hard-working bar band with national hopes and a deep love for old blues and boogie records. The album was only their second album, but it’s the record where everything fell into place. It was recorded quickly and cheaply; the album captured the band in near-live form, loud amps, and minimal overdubs. Thorogood had said he wanted energy, and the sessions matched that request.

The song was written by Hank Williams. This song was his first big hit. The song was written by the man himself. He released this song in 1947. Two years later, he received his invitation to join the Grand Ole Opry. This song was the title track for the album, released in 1978. The album peaked at #33 on the Billboard Album Charts, #29 in Canada, and #10 in New Zealand.

Move It On Over

I come in last night about half past tenThat baby of mine wouldn’t let me inSo move it on over, rock it on overMove over little dog, a mean, old dog is movin’ in

She told me not to mess aroundBut I done let the deal go downMove it on over, rock it on overMove over nice dog, a big, fat dog is movin’ in

She changed the lock on my back doorNow my key won’t fit no moreMove it on over, rock it on overMove over nice dog, a mean, old dog is movin’ in

She threw me out just as pretty as she pleasedPretty soon I’ve been scratchin’ fleasMove it on over, slide it on overMove over nice dog, a mean, old dog is movin’ in

Yeah, listen to me dog before you start to whineThat side’s yours and this side’s mineSo move it on over, rock it on overMove over little dog, a big, old dog is movin’ in

Yeah, she changed the lock on my back doorNow my key won’t fit no moreMove it on over, rock it on overMove over little dog, a big, old dog is movin’ in

Move it on overMove it on overMove it on over, won’tcha rock it on over?Move over cool dog, a hot dog’s movin’ in

Arc Angels – Arc Angels …album review

I started to listen to this album on a recommendation, and I was totally impressed. I started off with one song, but the hell with that, I went on to the complete album. Great rock and roll band with killer riffs and tones. Also, being produced by an E Street Band member doesn’t hurt either! Steven Van Zandt produced this album, and that right there is huge. Also, on keyboards, you have the Small Faces and Faces keyboard player, Ian McLagan. McLagan helped out on this recording, and he sounds great. They walk the line between rock, hard rock, blues, and even throw some funk in there in places. Great musicians on this album, and there is a reason for that.

The band formed right after the death of Stevie Ray Vaughan. Drummer Chris Layton and bassist Tommy Shannon, the backbone of Double Trouble (SRV’s backing band), found themselves without a frontman after Stevie’s passing in 1990. Instead of leaving the stage, they teamed up with two Austin guitarist-vocalists: Doyle Bramhall II and Charlie Sexton. Both were young, rising Texas guitar players with deep musical pedigrees. The name “Arc Angels” referenced the Austin Rehearsal Complex. Although the album was born out of Stevie Ray’s backing band, it sounded different and moved ahead. 

The album was recorded in Austin and at Ardent Studios in Memphis (Big Star, The Replacements), and it blended blues, alt-rock edges, and soulful songwriting. Throughout the record, Layton and Shannon play like a unit that has lived many lifetimes together, heavy but never heavy-handed. They aren’t just holding down rhythm, they’re pushing the music forward. Doyle Bramhall II, Charlie Sexton, Chris Layton, and Shannon did most of the writing, along with help from Tonio K. 

The opening song is Living In A Dream, and it’s bold and in your face, as the rest of the album is. The second song is Paradise Cafe, which is probably my favorite off the album. That guitar is raunchy as hell, and I love it. They did include a song they wrote in memory of their friend Vaughan called See What Tomorrow Brings. The track Good Times has some cool funk and blues to it. If you have some time, check this album ou.t. I think you will like it. The critical reaction was good for this album, but it got lost in the grunge shuffle that was going on at the time, unfortunately. 

 For anyone who loves Texas blues with bite, this is a great place to start. 

Living In A Dream

If you were mineI’d give you all the worldIf you were mineI’d take you higher girlBut you got me waitingOoh, you’re so coldIt kills me timeOoh and time is all we needBut god knows I’ve tried, I’ve triedTo get you close to me

But tonight when my eyes are closingYou’ll be with me

Just let me beAnd let me believe, you’re mineCause there’s nothin’ wrong hereI’m just livin’Livin’ in a dream

Without a signYou brought me to my kneesWithout a sign,I crossed the lineI beg for sleep

But tonight when my eyes are closin’You will be with me

Just let me beAnd let me believe, you’re mineJust let me beAnd let me believe, you’re mineCause there’s nothin’ wrong hereI’m just livin’Livin’ in a dream

…

Charlie Rich – Midnight Blues

When I was growing up, I remember watching music shows from Nashville, and I saw this white haired man constantly. That white haired guy was Charlie Rich. I never knew much about his older music, but I am really getting into it.

After a stint in the Air Force, Rich started writing his own songs and playing around Memphis, the city that ended up shaping him more than anything else. Memphis in the 1950s was a blend of blues, country, gospel, and early rock and roll, and Rich fit right into the middle. He wasn’t a purist of any genre; he was a blender, and that would become his signature for the rest of his career.

His big break came when he walked into Sun Records, though it wasn’t exactly instant stardom. Sam Phillips didn’t quite know what to do with him because Rich didn’t fit the Sun mold. He wasn’t a raw rocker like Jerry Lee Lewis, and he wasn’t a rockabilly guy like Carl Perkins. He was smoother, jazzier, more complicated.

Before he became the “Silver Fox” singing Behind Closed Doors, he was a studio guy down in Memphis, searching for the sound that matched his style. Midnight Blues, recorded in 1960 for Sun, captures that in-between phase perfectly, smoky, late-night melancholy set to a subtle shuffle.

Some singers have a pain in their voice, such as Richard Manuel of the Band. Charlie Rich’s early Sun Records is like that as well. What always blows me away with Rich is that he could sound both heartbroken and confident at the same time. This song has a little bit of everything in it. He had one of those voices that could blend into anything, from country to soul, jazz, or blues.

He would go on to have nine country number ones in the 1970s. Lonely Weekends was his first US hit. It hit #27 on Cash Box in 1960.

Midnight Blues

Midnite, you know you’re doing me wrongMidnite, doing me wrongKeeping me up all night longAll night, all night longEverytime I feel a little bit freeI hear those blues, midnite bluesCommence to calling meMidnite, why don’t you leave me aloneLeave me, leave me aloneI’m trying my best to make a happy homeHappy, happy homeEverytime I feel a little bit freeI hear those blues, midnite bluesCommence to calling meI just can’t help to feel a little bit ashamedEverytime I hear you call my nameI’m blaming you for all the bad things I’ve doneBlame you for what I’ve doneStill I will admit that every once in a while it was fun

Yeah but midnite, don’t keep me running aroundDon’t keep running aroundI made up my mind, I’m gonna settle downAh ha, settle downEverytime I feel a little bit freeI hear those blues, midnite bluesBlues, midnite bluesI hear those blues, midnite bluesCommence to calling meThat blues is a calling meMidnite blues is a calling me

…

Rising Sons – Candy Man

Just found this band. What a band, Ry Cooder and Taj Mahal in the same band. It doesn’t get much better than that. Some songs sound like they were born on the back porch, passed around from player to player, gathering different fingerprints and stories along the way. This is one of those songs. This is a traditional song arranged by the Rising Sons. 

The band formed around 1964 in Los Angeles, built on the partnership between two then unknown but soon to be legendary musicians, Taj Mahal and Ry Cooder. Taj had moved west from Massachusetts after studying agriculture and getting into the folk revival. Cooder was a teenage slide guitar prodigy growing up in Santa Monica who already had a reputation as the kid who could play anything with strings. They met in the LA clubs, places like the Ash Grove and Troubadour.

They quickly became a standout act on the LA scene. They were signed to Columbia Records in 1965, which tells you how much buzz they had, but the label didn’t really understand what to do with a group that wasn’t rock, wasn’t folk, and wasn’t blues, but somehow all three. Their album was shelved for decades. This is the same problem the Goose Creek Symphony had; the label didn’t know what box to put them in. 

The real joy of their Candy Man is how it captures a moment in time right before American roots music exploded. This was before the Byrds went country, and The Band were still the Hawks backing up Bob Dylan. This short-lived 1965 band was a great one, featuring a young Taj Mahal, an even younger Ry Cooder, and future Byrds drummer Kevin Kelley (later on), who replaced Ed Cassidy, Jesse Lee Kincaid on vocals and guitar, and Gary Marker on bass. The Rising Sons didn’t last long, but recordings like this show just how special that little window was.

They recorded an album, and it was produced by Terry Melcher. The album wasn’t released, but this single was. The album was finally released in 1992. It’s blues meeting folk with a bit of country rock in there. I was reminded in the comments that this version was based on the Reverend Gary Davis version. Thank you, halffastcyclingclub and purplegoatee2684b071ed. 

I wanted to include these slang words and definitions that were given.

Salty Dog – In blues songs, a “salty dog” is a slang term for a man, often an experienced sailor, who seeks a casual, non-committal sexual relationship. The phrase can also refer to a libidinous man more generally, or someone who is “salty” in the sense of being experienced, spicy, or unpredictable. 

Candy Man – In blues songs, a “Candy Man” is a term for a gigolo, ladies’ man, or dealer of drugs, often with a sexually suggestive connotation. While the literal interpretation is a seller of candy, the more common meaning in traditional blues songs refers to a charismatic and enticing man who sells a different kind of “sweet” product, like sexual favors or drugs. 

Gary Marker: “We were the problem; we had difficulties distilling our multiple musical agendas down to a product that would sell. We had no actual leader, no clear musical vision…. I think [Melcher] went out of his way to make us happy – within the scope of his knowledge. He tried just about everything he could, including the live, acoustic session that produced ‘2:10 Train.'”

Candy Man

Candy man, Candy man
Been and gone been and gone
Candy man, Candy man
Been and gone been and gone
Candy man, Candy man
Been and gone been and gone

Well, I wish I was down in New Orleans
Sitting on the candy stand
Candy gal through the candy stand
Oh yea, got stuck on the candy man
Candy gal through the candy stand
Oh yea, got stuck on the candy man
Candy gal through the candy stand
Oh yea, got stuck on the candy man

I love my candy gal
God knows I do
Little red light, little red light
Little green light, little green light
Little red light, little red light
Little green light, blue green light
Little red light, little red light
Little green light, little green light
The light’s stuck on red but when it goes to green don’t you mess with Mr. Inbetween

Went on down to the candy stand
Found my gal with the candy man
I went on down to the candy stand
Found my gal with the candy man
Took her hand from the candy man
I said I’d be her candy man now

I love my candy gal
God knows I do

Candy man Candy man
Salty dog, Salty dog
Candy man Candy man
Salty dog, Salty dog
Candy man Candy man
Salty dog, Salty dog

Well, I wish I was down in New Orleans
Sitting on the candy stand

…

Hollyood Fats Band – The Hollywood Fats Band …album review

This guy was mentioned in the comments last week (he was playing guitar with the Blasters in a video I posted), and I was listening. A blues band that swung like they were on a chandelier… what an incredible band this was. When I write posts, sometimes I think of the readers who would like them. Christian is the one I’m thinking of here…I’m not a blues aficionado, but when I hear something great, no matter what it is…I play it. Rarely would I review a blues album, but this one is certainly worth it. His guitar playing took me by surprise. 

I loved how they recorded this. The band recorded the album in Los Angeles, using vintage tube gear, ribbon microphones, and a minimalist mic setup to capture the warmth and air of those old 1950s records. They wanted it raw, live, and most importantly, human. No overdubs, no studio tricks, just five musicians facing each other and playing to each other.

If you were hanging around the Los Angeles blues scene in the mid-1970s, you might’ve seen a big fedora-wearing guitar phenom named Michael “Hollywood Fats” Mann. For a few short years, he led a group that reminded the world that the West Coast had some great blues. The band had a deep Chicago and Texas blues sound. The Hollywood Fats Band didn’t last long, but they left their mark.

Michael Mann was just out of his teens when he was already playing alongside blues legends. He was born in Los Angeles in 1954. He sat in with the likes of Muddy Waters, John Lee Hooker, and Albert King when they hit town. He had a tone straight out of Chess Records. By the time he met harmonica player Al Blake and pianist Fred Kaplan in the mid-1970s, the idea of forming a blues revival band that really sounded like the old days began to take shape.

The lineup was a dream team for blues purists: Hollywood Fats on guitar, Al Blake on harp and vocals, Fred Kaplan on piano, Larry Taylor (formerly of Canned Heat) on upright bass, and Richard Innes on drums. They were in the middle of the disco era, but they stuck stubbornly to jump blues, and it swung. The chemistry was electric. Fats’ guitar lines just rip off those recordings I’ve been listening to, and the entire band was just fantastic.

Their lone studio album, The Hollywood Fats Band (recorded in 1979 and released in 1980), sounded like it had been transported from a Chess Records session with better fidelity. Sadly, it didn’t end well. Hollywood Fats struggled with addiction, and just as his reputation was spreading beyond the clubs of L.A., he died in 1986 at only 32. The band members carried on, but it was never the same.

There is not much film on the guy…this is not a great quality video, but you take what you can.

…

Lee Allen – Walking With Mr. Lee

I’m sitting here with my headphones on and listening to this instrumental, Walking With Mr. Lee. This one makes me feel like I’m walking down a street in the 1950s, flushed with money. Not every classic needs a big chorus or a star singer; sometimes it’s a great musician taking a walk and inviting us all to follow…and follow I will. 

Allen grew up in Denver after being born in Pittsburg, Kansas, and headed to New Orleans on a combined athletics and music scholarship to Xavier University in the mid-1940s. He fell straight into the city’s music scene, working alongside Dave Bartholomew’s crew with Red Tyler, Earl Palmer, and company. He worked with the best, and that included Fats Domino (Allen played on many of his records), Lloyd Price, Huey “Piano” Smith, Professor Longhair, The Blasters, The Stray Cats, Allen Toussaint, The Rolling Stones, and, crucially, Little Richard’s 1955-1956 Specialty singles that were full of Allen’s saxophone.

So Mr. Allen wasn’t a guy who came out of nowhere. He rarely showed off; he guided the band, nudging Fats Domino forward, egging Little Richard on, and making every garage band probably think, “we need a sax.” As Chuck Berry’s guitar was so important to the 1950s, Lee Allen’s sax was in the thick of it as well.

I found a 1991 video featuring Lee Allen, Boots Randolph, Sil Austin, Hans & Candy Dulfer, and it’s definitely worth watching. Walking With Mr. Lee did become a minor hit, and it was played on American Bandstand constantly. The song passes my smile test…because when I hear it, I’m happy.

Lee Allen on sax with the Blaster.

No lyrics needed…just put some headphones on and enjoy.

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Pete Johnson and Joe Turner – Roll ‘Em Pete

I want to thank a commenter named purplegoatee2684b071ed for recommending this song after reading my Joe Turner post. Just listen to the piano playing of Pete Johnson on this track and Joe Turner’s voice. It would raise the roof off any joint. Knowing it was made in 1938 makes it more special. Pete Johnson and Joe Turner were credited for writing this song. 

Pete Johnson had been playing in Kansas City joints with his percussive style, while Joe Turner worked as a bartender and occasional singer. When the two paired up, it was dynamite. Producer John Hammond heard about them and invited the duo to Carnegie Hall for his “Spirituals to Swing” concert in 1938. Joe and Pete’s performance of this song stunned the crowd and announced that the blues and boogie-woogie weren’t just barroom music; they were the foundation of a new kind of American sound.

Listening today, you can hear the roots of countless rock and R&B records hiding within this track. The drive, it’s Little Richard before Little Richard, it’s Jerry Lee Lewis before Jerry Lee Lewis. This 1938 song is a sign that says… rock and roll is on its way. This may not have been a chart single in the way we think of hits today, but its influence rolled (pun intended) across decades.

I’m going to include a live Blasters version because they knew Joe Turner. Dave and Phil Alvin knew and spent time with Big Joe Turner, whom they regarded as a friend and mentor. As teenagers in the 1960s, the brothers followed Turner around the Los Angeles area, going to his gigs and eventually befriending him. 

Roll ‘Em Pete

Well, I got a gal, she lives up on the hillWell, I got a gal, she lives up on the hillWell, this woman’s tryin’ to quit me, Lord, but I love her still

She’s got eyes like diamonds, they shine like Klondike goldShe’s got eyes like diamonds, they shine like Klondike goldEvery time she loves me, she sends my mellow soul

Well, you’re so beautiful, you’ve got to die somedayWell, you’re so beautiful, you’ve got to die somedayAll I want’s a little loving, just before you pass away

Pretty baby, I’m goin’ away and leave you by yourselfPretty baby, I’m goin’ away and leave you by yourselfYou’ve mistreated me, now you can mistreat somebody else

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Ry Cooder – Do Re Mi

California is the garden of edenIt’s a paradise to live in or seeBut believe it or notYou won’t find it so hotIf you ain’t got the do re mi

Guitar player extraordinaire Ry Cooder… everything he plays has feeling and soul. This song just rolls and doesn’t skip a beat. I want to thank Clive for bringing Ry Cooder up a month or so ago, before I posted another Cooder song. I usually don’t post songs by the same artist so close together, but I made an exception in this case. 

Cooder is an excellent musician and one of the great slide players of our time. He contributed to the Rolling Stones’ albums Let It Bleed and Sticky Fingers and was briefly considered as a replacement for Brian Jones. Some say he wrote the riff to “Honky Tonk Woman.”

The song was written by Woody Guthrie as a warning to the Okie dreamers heading west during the Great Depression. It’s a cautionary folk tale wrapped in wit. But when Ry Cooder tackles it on his 1970 self-titled debut album, he swaps Woody’s acoustic for a blues groove that you won’t forget. 

I’ve talked about guitar tone here before, and this is great. It moans. It sings. It talks back. He plays like he’s got some blues legends in his hand. Each lick feels like it was pulled straight from the dirt.

What makes Cooder’s take so great isn’t just the craftsmanship, it’s the context. Coming out in 1970, on the heels of the Nixon unease and the Vietnam burnout, Ry drags this Depression-era ballad into a new kind of storm.

Do Re Mi

Lots of folks back east they sayLeaving home most every dayBeating the hot old dusty wayTo the California line

Across the desert sands they rollGetting out of that old dust bowlThink they’re coming to a sugar bowlBut here’s what they find

Police at the port of entry sayYou’re number fourteen thousand for today

Hey, if you ain’t got the do re mi, boyIf you ain’t got the do re miWell, you better go back to beautiful TexasOklahoma, Kansas, Georgia, Tennessee

California is the garden of edenIt’s a paradise to live in or seeBut believe it or notYou won’t find it so hotIf you ain’t got the do re mi

You want to buy a home or a farmThat can’t do nobody harmTake your vacation by mountains or seaDon’t swap your old cow for a carYou better stay right where you areBetter take this little tip from me

Well, I look through the want ads every dayThe headlines in the papers always say

Hey, if you ain’t got the do re mi, boyIf you ain’t got the do re mi…

California is the garden of edenIt’s a paradise to live in or seeBut believe it or notYou won’t find it so hotIf you ain’t got the do re mi

Billie Holiday – Moanin’ Low

I’m not a huge jazz aficionado, but sometimes it hits the spot. On Christian’s blog on Sundays, he usually features a jazz song on his Sunday Six. I often enjoy that more than the rock songs. I was looking through YouTube, and I instantly fell for this song. I picture a smoky black and white bar at 3am in the 40s or 50s, with Holiday giving her all for each song. 

I’ve heard other versions of this song, and some are slick and radio-friendly. Holiday’s is not slick, it’s real and as close to authentic as you can get. What I hear in this song is a weariness in Billie’s voice that feels older than the song itself. She doesn’t belt it, and she doesn’t show off. She just leans into the melody like someone savoring the last dance of the night. 

When I listen to her songs, I have a feeling like I’m eavesdropping on something intimate. Only a few singers have made me feel that way; she will always be special. In this song, she gave pain a voice, and it’s still being felt. 

This song was released in 1936 and peaked at #11 on the Billboard Hot 100. One stat that I found floored me. Out of the 38 singles she released, 35 of them were in the top 20. It was written by Ralph Rainger and Howard Dietz in 1929. popularized in the revue The Little Show, where it was sung by Libby Holman. It’s been covered 66 times by artists such as Dinah Shore to Hot Sugar Band & Nicolle Rochelle in 2020.

The live version below is near the end of her tragically short life, but like always, she gives her all. 

Moanin’ Low

Moanin’ low, my sweet man, I love him soThough he’s mean as can beHe’s the kind of man needs the kind of a woman like me

Gonna die if my sweet man should pass me byIf I die where’ll he beHe’s the kind of a man needs the kind of a woman like me

Don’t know any reason why he treats me so poorlyWhat have I gone and done?Makes me troubles double with his worriesWhen surely, I ain’t deserving of none

Moanin’ low, my sweet man is gonna goWhen he goes, oh LordyHe’s the kind of a man needs the kind of a woman like me

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John Lee Hooker – I’m In The Mood

Hooker only needed a guitar and that voice to make any song interesting. If you ever needed proof that less really is more, play this song. 

There’s a reason John Lee Hooker didn’t need a band on this song. He was the band. A one-man rhythm machine with a foot that kept better time than some drummers I’ve seen on stage. In a way, this song is blues stripped to its bones. No solos. No pyrotechnics. Just mood, repetition, and that unmistakable voice. He doesn’t shout to get your attention; he commands, and you come running.

The song was recorded in Detroit, Michigan, where Hooker had relocated in the late 1940s. It was released in 1951 on Modern Records. It features Hooker on guitar and vocals, accompanied by minimalistic instrumentation.

He was fresh off the success of Boogie Chillen, and while that earlier hit was electric blues, this song was something different; smokier and more intimate.

This 1951 song was his first R&B #1 since Boogie Chillen in 1948. It also peaked at #30 on the US Hot 100 that year. It was a hit in the juke joints and on jukeboxes. It made people lean in, not turn up. And it cemented Hooker’s place as something far more than a bluesman.

I’m In The Mood

I’m in the mood, babyI’m in the mood for loveI’m in the mood, babyI’m in the mood for loveI’m in the mood, in the moodBabe, I’m in the mood for love

I say, nighttime is the right time, to be with the one you loveYou know when the night come, baby got no use so far away

I’m in the moodI’m in the mood, babeI’m in the mood for loveI’m in the mood, in the mood, babyIn the mood for love

I said, yes my mama told me, “Don’t leave that girl alone”But my mama didn’t know, God know, yeah, I wouldn’t put it down

I’m the moodI’m in the mood, baby, mood for loveI’m in the mood, I’m in the moodBabe, in the mood for love

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