Mike Natale:Listened to: MP3
If Robert Johnson is the King of the Delta Blues, then Muddy Waters poisoned the king in his sleep, took his crown, and started nailing his wife (if I wanted, I could probably stretch this analogy further, making Clapton Hamlet, Stevie Ray Vaughn Horatio, Jack White and John Mayer Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, etc.). First off, it’s hard to imagine the state of music today had Folk singer not come along. I mean, Muddy is called the father of Chicago Blues for a reason, and the impact he’s made on so many genres is enormous. Of course it’s obvious Clapton was an admirer, but not many people realize the Rolling Stones got their name from Muddy’s 1950 “Rollin' Stone”, and that Mick Jaggerhas Muddy on his short list of heroes. So, vicariously, Muddy Waters is my grand-hero, I guess.
But let’s set aside how massively influential Muddy is. Take a look at the line-up on this album. Muddy’s doing vocals and acoustic guitar, Clifton James (not the guy who impersonated Field Marshal Montgomery) on the drums, the equally brilliant Willie Dixon on string bass (also composing the album’s third track, My Captain), and the legendary Buddy Guy on guitar. In case you were wondering why each instrument on this album sounds better than most whole bands in existence today, you now know why. Folk Singer is built on the holy trinity of blues backing bands (though Dixon and Buddy Guy could hold more than their own as front men).
So, we’ve got the influence, the talent, but is the album really all that good? Important, sure, the naysayers may say, but good? To that I respond: Piss off. If you have to ask that, it’s time to stop listening to whiney British boys making beeps out of their computer, and hear real music at it’s finest. Muddy has a deep, sultry voice that he thankfully uses as a tool to create great blues calls, rather than rest on it’s jowl-y beauty. The guitar solos, especially on the final track “Feel Like Going Home”, rip like nothing you hear even today. The soft pain in “My Home Is In The Delta” (more commonly referred to as Blind Man Blues) is so poignant it burns in the heart of anyone who doesn’t need to be spoon-fed emotion. And “Good Morning Little School Girl” has one of the finest moving bass lines and most subtly brilliant organ tracks of any song to this day.
As a whole, every track on Folk Singer is brilliant blues performance, and it’s without a doubt Muddy’s finest studio album. It’s the kind of album I want to hand every asshole who goes “Jack White is an amazing guitar player!”, and make them listen to some of these solos, and it’ll make Jack’s little squeaks and incoherent rattles look like a five-year-old who got into daddy’s guitar room (if your Dad didn‘t have a guitar room, I‘m sorry your Dad sucked).
Muddy possessed an amazing presence, and is one of the few artists who, in a positive way, possessed the same force on recording as he did live. If you have any interest in becoming a musician in any way, shape, or form, than do yourself a favor, and put this album in high rotation. If it doesn’t blow you away, put down the guitar, you’re a lost cause. Folk Singer is one of the finest studio blues albums to date, and highly worth the listen. So…listen. Go ahead. You’ve got time. Need more encouragement? Give this a listen.
-Mike
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Nick Young:
Listened to: MP3
Stoop music. That was the first thought that popped into my head when Muddy Waters’ lonesome, booze-sick blues hit me like a freight train in the pre-dawn twilight.. I should be listening to this on some abandoned stoop in some forsaken city with a few 40’s by my side to keep me company (wrapped in brown paper bags for the full effect). Muddy’s “Folk Singer,” released in 1964, could very well have been the favorite album of Spike Lee’s drunken voice of reason made flesh- Da Mayor (played by Ossie Davis in “Do the Right Thing”). The album practically ennobles the act of carelessly drinking your sorrows away.
For that reason, the album is just about the worst medicine for the blues I could possibly imagine. The musicians are nimble, the recordings are tight, but the feeling is overwhelmingly queasy. If I want a sound that’s “steady like a train, sharp like a razor” without that hangover feeling that comes with it on tracks such as “You Can’t Lose What You Never Had” and the stripped down lament of “Cold Weather Blues,” I’d rather listen to Johnny Cash. This kind of blues is too steady, too predictable and too boring for me to stay focused while such a sad man pines for what he can’t have. If you want some real blues…
This album should be replaced with: Father of the Delta Blues – The Complete 1965 Sessions (Son House)
Son House’s blues are much throatier, much more ramshackle, and all-around more worthwhile then Muddy’s could ever hope to be. I find it criminal that Rolling Stone could think of ignoring the man who’s signature song, the incendiary “Death Letter,” was arguably one of best blues songs ever recorded. With a voice as haunting as Odetta’s, he’s an underrated musician you’re not soon to forget.
Thanks for checking in. You’ll definitely want to come back tomorrow, when we cover #29: Led Zeppelin by…well…shit, that one’s sorta obvious, isn’t it?
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