Dear reader, indulge us in a moment of unadulterated nostalgia, courtesy of our very dear friend, The Riverboat Captain. Bandanas and bullet mics at the ready..

King King was a former Chinese restaurant on the north west corner of 6th and La Brea in Hancock Park. In the early 90s, Monday night regulars The Red Devils staked their claim to be Los Angeles’ biggest bar band, drawing in city bluesheads and celebrity scenesters alike with their raw, straight-ahead juke joint sound.

Originally known as The Blue Shadows, the band coalesced into a settled line-up around Virginia-born wild man and harmonica player Lester Butler. On the traps, The Blasters‘ Bill Bateman, one of the greatest ‘feel’ drummers in roots music, teamed up with bassman Johnny Ray Bartel of The Knitters to provide that essential undertow to the Devils’ shuffle – Bateman a touch late, Bartel a tad early on that crucial beat. Dave Lee Bartel’s brick wall rhythm guitar anchored the lead lines of a prodigy: Paul ‘The Kid’ Size interlaced unobtrusive, sympathetic guitar licks with Butler’s harp and voice and, when let off the leash, he really flew.

Their debut album, naturally named King King, was produced by one of those celebrity club visitors: Rick Rubin of Def American Records, the man responsible for the release of some of the most crucial rock and rap albums of the 80s. Truth be told, there’s no sophistication in the production of King King – all Rubin does (it’s a great achievement and we thank him for it) is perfectly encapsulate the raging sound of a live blues band on top form.

Aw baby, I don’t wan’ fight no more

Listen to the disc (recorded over three regular Monday night slots at the club) and you’re there – you can feel the sweat, you can hear glasses clink, the waitress nudges you in the back as your order arrives at your table (don’t forget to tip now), Butler announces the songs, counts off and you’re pinned back in your imaginary seat as this… elementary force blows out from the stage. There is a sixth musician up there, eminent West Coast pianist Gene ‘Fingers’ Taylor, but to my ears, he could have stayed at home, because the evil, fierce blasting of the Devils renders the keys all but inaudible.

Butler, howling simultaneously into harp and vocal mike and blowing up the proverbial storm, leads the band through nine blues standards and just three originals – fear not, dear readers, because one of those Butler songs is a stone classic and alone is worth the price of admission.

Willie Love’s Automatic, the opening track, has become The Red Devils signature song and the band whip on through Goin To The Church and a blistering She’s Dangerous taken at a slovenly tempo (one of three Willie Dixon numbers on the record). As good a start as that is, they go on to reach even greater heights. A cool version of Billy Boy Arnold’s I Wish You Would leads to a genuine highlight – Cross Your Heart, one of my all time favourite Sonny Boy songs and done great justice here by Butler. A stuttering Willie Dixon riff and Butler lyrics materialise as Tail Dragger, and the swaggering dance of Devil Woman leads to the classic song – No Fightin’, as good an exercise in blues dynamics and creative tension that you’ll ever hear.

Come home two o’clock in the mornin’

The guitars have been excellent up to now: notwithstanding the ferocity, they fit perfectly around Butler – because this is a harp album first and foremost – but during Mr Highway Man, you pin back your ears and listen to the swing of the ensemble playing, but.. wait.. Paul ‘The Kid’ Size! There he is! In truth, he’s been there all along, but the intricacy of the lines he weaves through this song, that’s what hits you right now. And all of a sudden, you want to go back to the start of the CD and listen to Paul, and only Paul. But you can’t.

Because there’s a Slim Harpo-ized version of I’m Ready next up. Then a brooding take on Little Walter’s Quarter To Three. Then a blaze through Junior Wells’ Cut That Out, with a grandstanding Lester Butler extended ending you’ll all want to emulate the next time you’re on stage, and a rare solo from The Kid that strips paint off the walls.

And that’s it, just short of sixty minutes: on record The Red Devils leave the stage for a break, and in your living room, you’re shattered. Time to put the kettle on (or go find a cold one in the kitchen). Unfortunately, astonishingly, that’s pretty much the entire recorded output of the band (there’s an EP called Blackwater Roll, if you can find a copy).

I seen your note lyin’ on my floor

Being as how this is about the album, I’ll leave you to Google to get the continuing story of Lester Butler and the band – let’s just close with a couple of comments. This album does not feature a technical exercise in harmonica playing. Frontiers are not pushed back, boundaries are not stretched, rules are not broken. It ain’t.. jazz.

But the jolt of electricity, the vitality that you feel when you listen to King King.. that’s what the best blues music is all about, for me. It’s almost primeval. It’s an inexorable force. You feel it deep down in your.. yes, goddamit, I’m going to say it… your soul. And that’s what keeps me coming back time and again to this record, nigh-on 20 years since its release.

Find King King at Amazon US or Amazon UK

For more musical musings, wit and incisive observations from the Captain, visit his wheelhouse at The Riverboat Captain.

Who plays harmonica on It’s Called A Heart?

It was a typical Friday down at the Harp Surgery. A pile of letters in the Good Doctor’s in-tray, a stack of reed plates awaiting attention, a half-finished cup of tea on the desk and the phone ringing off the hook. Suddenly the Doc’s ears pricked up. 

Through the hubbub his attention was drawn to a song on the radio which, unless his senses deceived him, had a subtle hint of harp in the mix. He attacked the volume dial, picked up his tea cup and tapped along with a Tunnock’s Caramel Wafer.

Let me introduce you to a new idea

The DJ confirmed his record of the week was It’s Called A Heart by Marli Harwood. Fabulous stuff. A catchy rhythm, a great voice, a good time feel and a well mixed harmonica line. So who is Marli’s harp player? Time to investigate.

On this occasion, all it took was one direct email enquiry, and Marli sent a lovely reply: So glad u like the track! It was a friend of mine called Steve Brown who is known for many things including producing the Rumer album. Marli :-)

Steve Brown? Rumer? Crikey. He’ll be the Steve Brown who has produced records with a shed load of megastars (including the Manic Street Preachers with whom the Doc had an indirect and brief brush recently -  read track 11). And Rumer will be that lady who sounds spookily like Karen Carpenter. Top job!

It’s called a heart

Now judging by comments on the web, there is already a backlash bubbling and Marli’s single hasn’t even officially been released! Some folks remember her as a contestant on TV’s Fame Academy, under her maiden name Marli Buck. She came fifth. Since then Marli has launched five albums and recorded a hundred songs, none of which received airtime. And apparently this is reason enough to knock her latest success with a welter of snide comments.

Frankly, at the Harp Surgery, nobody seems to mind. Judging by the way The Doc, Otis and Monica have been merrily grooving to Marli’s new hit, the music speeks for itself. As does the harmonica. It’s all good.

And by the way, while mention has been made of Rumer, we presume Steve is also responsible for the chromatic harmonica on Goodbye Girl from her current album Seasons Of My Soul?

We think you’ll enjoy Marli’s new track too. You can follow her on MySpace, Facebook and Twitter.

Writing about Jason Ricci has been on my agenda more or less since I started blogging on the Harp Surgery. It’s odd, really, that he doesn’t get much airtime here, considering he’s one of the most phenomenal players alive AND his unsolicited praise adorns our sidebar. In fact, the first gig review Wilf ever did for this website was Jason Ricci but that was years ago. It’s high-time we checked in on him again.

So today I’m finally going to review Jason’s album, Done with the Devil. What finally got me off the couch (figuratively anyway) was the news that he’s had a bad run of luck recently. We saw reports in June, and a great deal of speculation, that there had been some reshuffles in, or departures from, his (very very good) band, New Blood – and that all engagements were on hold ‘til August. On top of that his website is down, he’s in hospital with a punctured lung and no health insurance, and a series of financial calamities seem to have come calling at just the wrong time.

And because Jason Ricci is to 21st century harmonica what sliced bread was to sandwiches, I’ll make a suggestion of what you can do to help.

It’s pronounced Jay-son Rih-chee
First, let’s introduce the man, just in case you haven’t had the absolutely terrifying experience of Jason Ricci’s sonic samurai style. He combines the old-school Chicago sound of your Little Walters with rapid-fire Pat Ramsey licks, then shoots them to pieces with rapid-fire machine gun overblows and then drags ‘em to Jazztown. If that sounds like a confused description, it’s because listening to Jason Ricci can provoke very confused emotions.

Simply put, give him a harmonica and Ricci is a dangerous man. Check this out:

When he saw him in 2007, our own Wilf wrote:

He has planted his flag on the ramparts of Fort Radical. His appearance and his persona is that of an edgy Punk. His energy is arresting. His playing is simply astonishing. If I had to credit specific harmonica players and bands for redefining the blues’ boundaries, Blues Traveler, Alabama 3, Little Axe, Lee Sankey, Lee Oskar and Sugar Blue readily come to mind. Jason Ricci vaults them all.

That about sums it up.

Done with the Devil
Many moons later, after reading much effusive praise for Ricci and watching many of his killer videos, I finally got ‘round to purchasing his latest album, Done with the Devil.

What can I say? I’ve heard a lot of hardcore blues fans dismiss Ricci by saying “It ain’t blues” or that it’s “just notes”. Certainly, not all of it is blues, and there are a lot of notes. There are times when his fast runs sound a bit like Eddie van Halen, but (perhaps unlike van Halen) Ricci still knows where to leave space. Just because his harp is fast-talking doesn’t mean it’s verbose.

The title track, ‘Done with the Devil’ is a hectic rock-edged number that offers a little insight into Ricci’s own demons and his emergence from an apparently troubled past: “done with the devil, but the devil ain’t done with you,” goes the chorus. Predictably it features some high octane solos that will burn your eyebrows off if you stand too close to the speakers, so don’t.

This is an eclectic album, but there are a few tracks to satisfy the blues lovers. ‘Keep the Wolf From My Door’ and ‘How It Came To Be’ offer two great expos on electric and acoustic approaches to roots music, demonstrating how comfortable Jason Ricci is in the blues tradition while reworking it artfully.

Besides blues
‘Sweet Loving’ is a surprisingly catchy tune, considering it’s an upbeat, syrupy love song that should stick out on this album like a teenage Paul Butterfield in the south side of Chicago. I think its appeal may lie in being the first harmonica ballad to homosexual love (Ricci has been openly gay for a while now) that simultaneously shreds 3rd-position harp playing a new a****** on the lower octave.

You’ll find more emotional depth in the song “Broken Toy”, a tortured rumination on sexual identity – “not a girl nor a boy/ I feel just like a broken toy”. Our man takes a turn on the chromatic, alternating with a scorching diatonic solo that will leave any remaining harp-blowing homophobes with something to think about.

Here are some quick critical comments

1. Ricci’s vocals are serviceable, but they pale in comparison to his harp skills.

2. Not everyone’s going to swallow the punk-edged ‘I Turned Into a Martian’.

3. Even less so the just plain crazy ‘Afro Blue’. I’m guessing it’s just too avant-garde for your average blues, brews and BBQs harp player. It does, however, show why Jason Ricci is an easy contender for being the most important harmonica player of his generation.

3. The album ends on a very bizarre note: the final track ‘Enlightenment’ is a carnival-themed piece that reminds me the1920s German expressionist film Das Kabinett Des Doktor Caligari.

Help a brother out
But listen, the album’s cooking. If nothing else, every harmonica player should own it just so they know how violently a man can drag Hohner’s tiny toy into the 21st century. Overblows, overdraws, bends to the yayas: there is no territory beyond Ricci’s reach. If you’ve ever, ever considered supporting a master of our art, make it Jason Ricci. The timing couldn’t be better. Jason himself has said:

When asked, “How did a white boy from Maine get the blues?” I often answer, “If you don’t have the blues when you start playing them, you will after ten years of trying to make a living at it.”

So let me put this in even clearer terms. If you want to help Jason and yourself, buy his new album. Now.

Buy Jason Ricci & New Blood, Done with the Devil.

Some time back I got my hands on this acoustic single, “Burn The Whole Place Down” by the British country blues band Hey Negrita, which features my friend Will “Captain Bliss” Greener on harmonica. I’ve mentioned Captain Bliss once or twice here, as his approach to harmonica has taught me a great deal – without really showing me too many riffs and licks, if you catch my meaning.

Perhaps you already see why I thought it was worth consideration. First of all, it’s just a damned catchy song. But I believe there also are (at least) two lessons to be learned in their approach to this performance, and in Will’s contribution to it.

Lesson 1: Simplicity is beautiful

Will told me they recorded this album in a few hours, much in the manner you see in the video: six guys sitting in a room together, looking longingly into one another’s eyes, trading musical gestures. There’s a reason why six guys can record an album in an afternoon. (Instead of, say, a decade – I’m looking at you, Axl Rose.) Aside from learning the songs beforehand (something many bandmates forget to do), they kept the process simple and hassle free. No faffing about in laying down track after track in bits and pieces: everyone records together, and the musical relationships that exist within the band become the single most important technical tool available to them.

Granted, this is pretty common in recording studios, but it’s very helpful to keep in mind when planning gigs and performances: the Negrita philosophy (at least, the Will “Captain Bliss” Greener philosophy) is to keep things as simple as possible and not get enslaved to technology. If you have a PA mic, a good soundman and musicians you can trust, amps and mics and tubes and all that stuff is sometimes less important than you’d think.

Lesson 2: You only need to play as much as you need to play

I couldn’t believe it when I first visited Captain Bliss’s Myspace page. There was no harmonica on it! “But that doesn’t make any sense,” I thought: “H-h-he’s a harmonica player, for God’s sake!”

Well, yes. But as you’ll see from this song, he only adds as much harmonica as the song really needs. He could have easily chugged along through the whole track, adding little fills and frills between the vocals. I mean, Lord knows I certainly would’ve. Instead, he just keeps his harp by his side for almost the entire song, playing three short solos that account for about 12 bars of the song, as far as I can tell. As he himself pointed out to me, “the busy-ness of Matt’s guitar tends to remain constant; much of the time, the “fill” space tends to belong to him.”

Instead of just taking up all the available space in the song, he gives it air to breathe and the solos he does take are all the more attention-grabbing for it. (Also notice that he switches between a low harp and a high harp to keep things intereresting.) Knowing when not to play: that’s something I have yet to learn, unfortunately.

So what does a harmonica player do when he’s not playing harmonica? Well apparently he just acts like a musician: joining in on the chorus, dancing like a bit of a ninny, and just enjoying the damned song. I’ve seen more than a few harp players who, when they’re waiting for their solo, look more like they’re waiting for a bus that’s five minutes late.

Without further ado, please enjoy Hey Negrita’s “Burn the Whole Place Down”. You can buy it for a pittance at Amazon.

The Captain’s choice:
One night way back in 1991, listening to Paul Jones’ blues show on BBC Radio 2, a track sneaked out of the speakers, lodged itself in my brain and wouldn’t go away. The low hum of a vintage slide guitar, sensitive bass notes, and a brush-powered shuffle with the kind of deep, rich, effortless harmonica tone it taks half a lifetime to achieve.

The song was ‘Stranger Blues’ from ‘Do Not Disturb’, the Black Top Records debut of the James Harman Band.

Before I describe it, an admission. Having been asked to write about my ideal harmonica starter pack, or an album that will convert sceptics.. well, I couldn’t say 100% that it’s either. It’s a (gulp) concept album, with a loose theme of the trials and tribulations of touring and being in a band. It’s a ‘band’ album.. the variety of rhythms and sounds are effectively bound together and presented as a great blues record by a group of musicians who really know what they are doing. It DOES have harmonica (how could it not, with one of the West Coast’s leading harmonica exponents at the helm?) but it’s not a harmonica album per se. It IS, however, in my opinion, essential.

The album opens with James awakened from a post-gig reverie by motel staff impatient to extricate him from his room and clean it. James complains in a glorious story song, ‘Do Not Disturb’, an understand low key rumba punctuated with a few choice hamonica blasts. James and the band are really only just warming up.

But, wait a minute, what’s this? James puts his harps down? Already? It’s only the second song. Guitarist Joel Foy and the rhythm section jump into an exquisitely-timed shuffle, James declares he’s leaving in the morning and has Decatur, AL on his mind, exhorting the string-zinger to greater and greater heights on the instumental breaks, until Foy finally rocks out in impressive style and the song shudders to a halt.

Alright – harp. Here it is, next up, you said you wanted some. The band up the tempo and pour it on: it is indeed a ‘Wake Up Call’. Oh good Lord almighty, listen to that tone. More excellent work from Mr Foy, with James squalling and howling away on his diatonic.

A world-weary full band ‘Rags To Riches’ with some romping sax by New Orleans legend Lee Allen, plus keyboard stalwart Gene Taylor on rippling barrelhouse piano. No harp, but there’s more about James than just harp and here (as bass player Jeff Turmes once reminded me) it’s all about the lyrics.

Track 5: the aforementioned ‘Stranger Blues’ (some great accompaniment from drummer Steve Mugalian), and then the band shift a gear into ‘Icepick’s Advice’, James motormouthing about his baby and how not to burn your candle at both ends. Los Lobos‘ David Hidalgo drives the rap along with some discreet Tex-Mex accordion before James’ yelping harp coda.

“Green plastic doodad on my key, I’m so glad it belongs to me”

Then we find out that James is the king of his ‘Motel Room’, and it’s a place we find him throughout his career in song. The “TV is beaming its eerie glow, but it stays on ‘silent’ until I go” – this one’s all about the lyrics too. The solo just rasps.

‘Swampnight’ hits that.. well.. swampy groove, and doesn’t let go. Joel Foy turns up the reverb a notch, and if there’s a dancefloor nearby, you’re hittin’ it. ’Icepick’s Confession’ swings in with all the tenacity of an ‘On The Road Again’, James declaimin’ the mitigating circumstances of a sticky situation he’s got himself in and as the prosecutin’ attorney gives him the third degree, he pops out a couple of harp solos just to make sure the court is paying attention.

The album’s crowning highlight, again a full band affair, is the burning slowie ‘Phonebill Blues’: James’ baby has a new love interest and it’s sheer agony for our hero. Joel Foy fires out some choice Lowell Fulson inspired licks. The song’s mid-section drops right back to naught but a snaky lead guitar line and cymbals.. it’s midnight on the coast, alright. But wait a minute, these boys are getting angry. The horn section really starts to blow. You’re on the edge of your seat. Foy pours it on, and on. James wails, cuts back in, he’s in no way happy, and in a shattering climax, tells his baby to send the phonebill he just rang up calling her to her brand new man.

Relief and joy: ‘Mad About Something’ – it’s a low-down West Coast shuffle that springs along with some nifty interlaced guitar lines and James neatly fits his mighty harp blasts in and around the vocal lines until letting fly towards the end of the song, which has one of those knock-down dad-blame god-almighty take-it-to-the-bank perfect false endings that goes on and on until we all collapse in a heap, sated.

The album should end there.. but James just has time for a rock and roll wig-out called ‘I’m Gone’.. and he is, fading out with some truly unhinged blues riffing from Joel Foy.

The sleeve notes tell us the album was recorded “..into lots of air, in a big room with old tube mics, tube amps, into special pre-amps, onto “old style” two inch tape, on 16 track analog machines. Finally – for a big fat, warm, real sound – no Dolby, no enhancement, no gimmicks, no gags.” And it sounds great, no doubt. It sounds like.. just how you’d like YOUR band’s album to sound.

Hell, you’ll want to be IN this band.. but it’s a few years too late perhaps for any of us to fulfil that fantasy. Anyone with the remotest interest in the blues should be just plain overjoyed with this record. It still gives me thrills nearly 20 years after it was released.

Check out James Harman at Amazon UK and Amazon US

The Good Doctor’s choice:
When she was a pre-schooler, I used to joke that my eldest daughter was the epitome of indecision. Presented with two options, she would innocently substitute ‘either or’ with ‘and’. Bargaining was fruitless. Consequently I developed my own circus act, flipping pancakes and toasting waffles simultaneously.

I have since learned that, given the opportunity of two best options, ‘either or’ is quite simply an unfair question. So I am taking a leaf from my daughter’s book and, free of compunction, I have to name two favourite albums. In the frying pan we have Girls Go Wild by The Fabulous Thunderbirds, while under the grill we have Live at The Marquee by 9 Below Zero. No amount of balloon debating will change my mind.

As a teenager, both these albums had me air-harping in front of the bedroom mirror. Nothing else mattered. Kim Wilson and Mark Feltham were my surrogate blues harp mentors. Real-life harp tutors did not exist in 1980 suburban England. There was Tony ‘Little Sun’ Glover’s now famous reference manual, but we had no Youtube or DVD. We had to engage our ears and our imagination, take a deep breath and figure it all out by ourselves. Which is another reason why these two albums rarely left the turntable. While they were a joy to listen to, I was also trying to copy and learn from them.

So what exactly is it that makes these albums so significant? The wizardry of all that full-throated blues harping and the sheer energy of the bands. Plus their choice of songs. They’re never, ever dull. Now my ear naturally gravitates to the rhythm end of the blues spectrum. I love and appreciate a slow blues, but more than anything I enjoy a good dance beat – something up-tempo or Latin with a good hook. Both records are so laden with the stuff that sparks fizz off their tailpipes.

The T-Birds’ album is a swinging blues collection that drips with that big-time Texas feel. Well it would, wouldn’t it? Stevie Ray Vaughan’s brother is on gee-tar and Mike Buck is in his element behind the drum kit. As a teenager I had no idea who the Vaughan brothers were, or that Kim Wilson had been a disciple of George ‘Harmonica’ Smith. As far as the harp was concerned, it was all about the tone, the timing and the style I was hearing. ‘Pocket Rocket’ is a prime example of all three.

And it was all about cool. ‘Wait On Time’, ‘Marked Deck’ and ‘Let Me In’ are real finger-clickers. ‘Scratch My Back’ hits the swamp blues tickle spot. ‘Rich Woman’ and ‘Walkin’ To My Baby’ provide the Latin interest, and ‘Rock With Me’ and ‘She’s Tuff’ are straight-shooting, 12-bar delicacies. There are even a couple of slow blues tunes, Full Time Lover and C-Boy’s Blues, but even these ooze with class.

In contrast, 9 Below Zero were begotten of the UK’s pub rock tradition. Their album is a gritty, no-nonsense R&B feast with blues harp in every song. Yes, every song. But as already mentioned, it’s never dull or repetitive. Indeed, as a journeyman harp player you feel compelled to join in. In doing so you experiment with harp technique and by surmounting each hurdle, you can readily chart your progress on the instrument. No Youtube or DVD, remember.

Back in 1980 I had no idea how heavily Mark Feltham was influenced by Charlie McCoy’s playing. I didn’t know who Charlie McCoy was! Even though it was ‘Stone Fox Chase’ that had got me started on the harp. I also had no idea that 9 Below were so heavily influenced by the J. Geils Band. ‘Homework’ and ‘Pack Fair & Square’ were just great tunes and the rest of the band’s selection of blues, Motown and pub rock resonated where it mattered. Right to my teenage toes.

Check the Good Doctor’s tab and lesson of Pack Fair & Square

9 Below played their own London smash’n'grab songs on the record – ‘Stop Your Naggin’’ and ‘Straighten Her Out’. ‘Three Times Enough’ and ‘Doghouse’ followed on their next album. Their affinity with Motown brought covers of Marvin Gaye’s ‘Can I Get A Witness’ and The Four Tops’ ‘I Can’t Help Myself’. Sam The Sham’s ‘Woolly Bully’ was thrown in to good effect, as was Hank Ballard’s ‘Hoochie Coochie Coo’.

Then there was the blues material. Freddie King’s ‘Tore Down’, Otis Rush and Willie Dixon’s ‘I Can’t Quit You Babe’ (with its obvious Led Zep connections) and, of course, ‘Got My Mojo Working’.

Each track is a lesson in how to use the harp as a horn section, lead instrument or vamper. Then there were those other two tracks. The special ones: ‘Riding On The L&N’ and ‘Swing Job’. Both remain essential listening and essential learning. The former has been featured in a previous Harp Surgery post. Crack these two, add ‘Pack Fair & Square’ and you’ll instantly join the ranks of the power harp brigade with audiences applauding you across the nation.

To experience my first real taste of R&B with just one of these albums would have been acceptable I suppose. At that time I would have been none the wiser. But it would have been a one-legged existence. For any harp player and blues enthusiast from the UK, the two albums are somehow complimentary, of the moment and provide a comprehensive musical education. Call them apple pie and custard. Good enough on their own, but perfect together. I was fortunate enough to see both bands live by the way, and they were every bit as exciting on stage.

Personally, these two albums were the headlights of a brand new car that was about to leave its parking slot. They’re still on full-beam. I think any sceptics out there should avoid jay-walking.

Find Nine Below Zero albums at Amazon UK and Amazon US

Find Fabulous Thunderbirds albums at Amazon UK and Amazon US

Elwood’s choice:

I’ll never forget the day I decided to take up blues harmonica. I was 18 years old, doing a crappy internship in a run-down part of the most boring town in England, and I decided to go shopping for music in my lunch hour. I can’t remember where I found the CD, but I do remember it just jumped right out of the shelf at me: Blue Skies, by some soulful-looking fellow named Muddy Waters.

The first track was ‘Mannish Boy’. I don’t recall the first listening per se, and yet I know exactly how it must have felt, because this bellowing, ball-tightening number still sends giant surges of electricity down the ole tendons. With Muddy on vocals, Willie Big Eyes Smith on drums, Bob Margolin on guitar and Johnny Winter on slide, the track’s signature riff has James Cotton on harp. I’d never heard of James Cotton, but that electric riff came shredding through my earphones like demonic buzz-saws being shot outta Satan’s crossbow.

I was hooked.

As I later learned, this was a compilation comprising tracks from the three smoking studio albums Muddy Waters cut with Blues Sky records: Hard Again (with James Cotton), I’m Ready (with Big Walter Horton and Jerry Portnoy) and King Bee (with Portnoy). It also featured two live tracks from Muddy “Mississippi” Waters - Live. So basically, the first straight blues album I bought featured three of the best blues harpers you could expect to find in a studio in the mid-70s. I didn’t know it, but I’d just purchased a blues harmonica master class.

Rarely does a single compilation cover so vast an array of skills and techniques in blues harmonica. It’s a complete starter pack to playing harp: aside from hosting treasurable performances from three top harmonica instrumentalists, from the point-of-view of a beginner blues harp we’ve got the ‘Mannish Boy’ and ‘Hoochie Coochie Man’ riffs on display, we’ve got the fierce James Cotton wail, the sleek, deft sidemanship of a young Jerry Portnoy, and eloquent, horn-like performances from Big Walter that showed there was life in the old ram yet.

It also gave me a taste for a variety of playing styles. There are a handful of stellar 1st position tracks, including James Cotton on ‘I Want To Be Loved’, Big Walter Horton on ‘Hoochie Coochie Man’ (trading licks with Jerry Portnoy’s amplified 2nd position harp), and a fantastic showcase solo from Portnoy on the upper octave on ‘Too Young To Know’.

Third position also gets a cameo, with Portnoy giving a blistering 3rd position performance on amplified chromatic on ‘I’m Ready’ (backed up here by Big Walter playing acoustic 2nd position).

I still find myself listening to tracks like ‘Deep Down in Florida’ and ‘Baby Please Don’t Go’ (Portnoy ripping a new hole into that song) and wondering how the hell they got so good. Maybe it’s God, protecting me from hubris.

Even beyond the harp, the albums that supplied these tracks are superb, especially Hard Again and I’m Ready. Fun, feisty and powerfully produced by Johnny Winter, they see Muddy return to his absolute best, bouncing out of the bargain bins and back into the spotlight – and washing away some of the taste left by that psychedelic flop, Electric Mud. These days, you can buy them in a box set, with a few bonus tracks and great liner notes from Bob Margolin on the stories behind the albums.

Best part: Swaggering through the streets of Welwyn Garden City wearing my headphones, smiling at all the middle-aged dads and soccer moms while James Cotton was tearing a new mindhole between my ears.

Only regret: Listening to the album while shopping for groceries. Never try to accomplish anything to the rhythm of a slow blues like Deep Down in Florida. It’ll take you forever.

Advice for first-timers: This is a compilation not an album, and it features THREE harmonica players – not just one dude with a schizoid sound. It took me years to figure that out.

What album got you hooked? Let us know in the comments. And stay tuned for upcoming album posts from the rest of the Harp Surgery team.

Find Muddy Waters albums at Amazon UK and Amazon US