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photo by ron keith
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R.L. BURNSIDE
Well...Well...Well
(April/May 2001)
(M.C.)
I've missed R.L. Burnside. Along with his labelmate Junior Kimbrough, he cut the most raucous, impressive blues records of the '90s. But recent discs have been commercially contrived, artistically misguided "dance" mixes and relatively bland studio productions. So it feels more than good to hear Well…Well…Well - a collection of songs recorded between 1986 and 1993, when Burnside was at an acoustic peak, so to speak. This disc showcases the fascinating period just before he plugged in full time and began cutting all those classic electric albums with Fat Possum that would make him famous.
M.C. Records has already documented the best of this period with 1997's excellent Acoustic Stories. Culled from a box of tapes Burnside and harp player Jon Morris made during their decade of travels together, this one's a little rougher around the edges. The liner notes correctly point out that, although Burnside has been recorded in many new settings over the years, it's ultimately his voice and guitar that make him unique and define everything he does. Throughout this disc the ol' Wizard's pipes are lean, his guitar playing is mean and confident (on his last studio effort, he didn't even play the guitar), and what comes across most on these stripped-down songs-many of which show up in rowdier electric versions on later Fat Possum albums-is the sheer fun of it all. He probably never dreamed much of this material would eventually be released to the public.
Witness the hilarious "Staggolee," for instance. Burnside and a couple of friends are sitting around a shotgun shack in New Orleans drinking and telling stories when someone mentions that nasty archetypal character. "Oh yeah, he was a bad man, you know," replies Burnside. "He walked through water and he walked through mud, and he came to this place they call the bucket of blood." Then he spontaneously launches into the most violent, expletive-ridden, yet hilarious version of this traditional tale you're likely to hear. Burnside and his audience of two are cracking up to the point it's hard to continue. Somewhere in the house a dog barks at the most inopportune times. It's moments like those-the looseness of the playing and the rowdy joy of telling stories-that make this disc special. The sound quality hovers around fine, which is odd considering this and several other tunes performed at the shack were recorded on a boom box. The catchy Joe Lee Williams song "Mellow Peaches" and Burnside's signature tune, "Goin' Down South," were recorded in a similarly unlikely setting-a livestock shed in Holland.
The other half of the material is taken from a 1986 concert in Charleston, a 1992 show in Athens, Greece, and a '91 date in The Hague. Of particular interest to Burnside heads are songs like "Poor Boy," from The Hague show. Most folks know the raunchy punk-blues version he cut with Jon Spencer. Here it's pure Burnside, featuring that repetitive percussive guitar groove that is so key to the man's sound, punctuated by Morris' chirpy harp playing. Nothing to get in the way, no distractions. The lyrics don't get too far beyond the refrain, "Poor boy, I'm a long way from home," but it doesn't matter. It's all you need and nothing more. The near-hypnotic rhythmic simplicity of it all is as satisfying as country blues gets.
That's the beauty of this disc in general. Later records, great though some of them may be, add elements beyond the core nucleus of voice and guitar. And that's fine. But you'll not get closer to the root of this great bluesman's sound than the music he made during this era.
-Michael Koster
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