Since returning to the blues 25 years ago after over a decade spent playing gospel music, Joe Louis Walker has been one of the most consistently entertaining performers in the idiom. With a grasp of blues history few can match, Walker has released 20 records showcasing his great taste in songs, his soulful vocals, and his stylistically diverse yet always engaging guitar work. Along the way, Walker has befriended a large number of blues luminaries, many of which turn out to help on this enjoyable new record.
A sequel of sorts to the 1997 release Great Guitars, Blues Conspiracy doesn't limit itself to only one instrument for its guest list. Walker teams with nine different guitarists, three harmonica players, two sax players, two vocalists, a trumpeter, an organist, and a piano player. The album was recorded entirely live, with no overdubs allowed. This is not a problem for the guest artists, though there are occasional mistakes here and there from the backing band, which mostly offers thoroughly competent accompaniment.
Joe Louis Walker's Blues Conspiracy
Naturally, the eleven songs included here are something of a mixed lot. The album’s centerpiece is a nearly twelve-minute version of the traditional "Sugar Mama" featuring Watermelon Slim on blues harp. Walker opens with a low and slinky guitar solo, with Slim adding deft harp counterpoint to that sinuous guitar. Over the first third of the song, Walker tells an intricate story of love and loss in chorus after chorus of guitar invention which builds to a fiery explosion before quieting down for an atypically delicate vocal. Slim's harp solo follows, and it's just as well-constructed, if shorter. Presumably, organist Kevin Burton from Walker's band takes the song out with a terrific solo at the end, too.
Another harpist, Kenny Neal, delivers another highlight on "A Poor Man’s Plea," a Junior Wells one-chord boogie. Neal's piercing harp cuts through the thick sludge of Walker's guitar, as the groove chugs along. And, as expected any time he appears anywhere, the young harmonica monster Jason Ricci steals the show on "Born In Chicago," aided and abetted by guitarists Paris Slim and Nick Moss. All four soloists here are inventive and competitive, paying appropriate tribute to the Butterfield Blues Band original.
Singing With Gusto
Though the focus throughout the album is on instrumental skills – Walker never fails to sing with gusto, but he rarely sings more than a couple of verses before the solos take over – there is one dazzling vocal piece. Curtis Salgado and Mike Finnigan (who also plays a mean organ) join Walker for a beautiful gospel/soul number "You're Gonna Make Me Cry," best known by O.V. Wright. All three singers testify as they try to upstage each other, but Walker is the one with the falsetto swoops which provide the best chills. Throughout the record, Walker is generous to a fault, always giving plenty of room to the other players, but never once does he allow himself to be cut; he always reminds us whose name is on the cover of the album.
Johnny Winter is probably the only player who comes close to a tie with the star of the show. Their version of Walker’s own "Ain't that Cold" is a blast of fiery, furious guitar. Winter pulls out his best post-Elmore James apocalyptic slide chops, while Walker takes the opposite tack with a controlled blast of licks which build slowly into a frenzy of intensity. Neither player ever gives in, and there is something akin to chaos when Walker sings and they both add fills, but the excitement never lets up.
Tommy Castro, Kirk Fletcher & Duke Robillard
Tommy Castro and three horn players – Deanna Bogart and Keith Crossan on tenor sax, and Tom Poole on trumpet – help Walker reach ecstatic heights on "Eyes Like A Cat," the old jump blues number he also recorded on last year's Between A Rock And The Blues. Each player gets plenty of solo space, with Castro's T-Bone Walker style most perfectly suited to the song. But it's at the end that the real action happens, with one chorus of the three horns blowing up a polyphonic storm, and then a closer with Castro and Walker surrounding each other on guitar.
Kirk Fletcher of the Mannish Boys shows up for the Lowell Fulsom/Dennis Walker number "Ten More Shows To Play." Fletcher's style is taut, with a clipped rhythmic approach that makes for a very effective contrast to Walker's extra-primal dark sound on this cut. The last half of this song finds the two guitarists trading 4's, then 8's, then somehow turning into each other as they build up to a frenzy of licks at the end.
Duke Robillard, on his own "Tell Me Why," and Tab Benoit, on "747," are good, if not spectacular here. Actually, Todd Sharpville, who joins Robillard on the former, steals the show from the more famous player with a vigorous burn against Robillard's cool. Walker lets his own band take the spotlight on "It's A Shame," which may have warmed up the crowd nicely, but seems like a pedestrian place-holder near the end of an album with so many better cuts. Mike Finnigan brings his organ chops to the album opener "Slow Down GTO," but despite Walker putting on a crackling slide guitar clinic, the song itself doesn't resonate the way it wants to.
Steve's Bottom Line
Even the weakest cuts have their pleasures, and the strongest cuts are exhilarating, so Blues Conspiracy turns out to be a pretty engaging experience. Joe Louis Walker clearly loves to share the spotlight with all the talented people who have come through his life. The joy everybody has playing with each other is palpable as you listen. (Stony Plain Records, released September 28, 2010)
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