Graham Reid | | <1 min read
Crosses
Every generation gets its own blues revival and a hero out front who – at best – takes the music forward but also reminds people where it came from.
The young Kingfish – just 20 when his Grammy-nominated, self-titled debut album appeared six years ago – was grounded in the blues, literally.
His hometown in Clarksdale, Mississippi where the famous crossroads are, the place where Robert Johnson sold his soul to the devil for the gift of music.
As an origin myth that's a good one.
Kingfish has no trouble touching the history of the blues but he also writes autobiographical songs and, as someone who grew up post-Jimi/post-Stevie Ray he leans into the power of hard rock . . . as he does on this incendiary album.
If he sears off the record with raw power and flash on the opener Truth and if there are nay-sayers about that, we should remember the same criticisms were made of Jimi and Stevie Ray.
He hauls in elements of funk (Bad Like Me, SSS), refers to Hendrix's revision of classic blues (Voodoo Charm with wah-wah), there's some serious shredding here too, Crosses delves into his religious beliefs and he's extending himself in his writing and singing (Clearly with its autobiographical soulful yearning).
But mostly this is hard-edged rock-blues from one who is schooled in the music but, like the best, pulling it into his own story and going forward with it.
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You can hear and buy this album at bandcamp here
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