Blue-Eyed Blues

The blues represents the foundation for pretty much all of modern popular music – rock, jazz, pop and even country. In its purest form, it can be intimidating and off-putting to the uninitiated. Too often thought of as depressive or dour, the blues is real life in song and, thus, contains multitudes.

Let me be clear also: this is a music originated by blacks and done better by them. No one can compete with the likes of gone giants like Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, Little Walter, et al, and current practitioners such as Buddy Guy. But whites have long ago declared their love by the sincerest form of flattery available. The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Eric Clapton and countless others became besotted with this most elemental of styles and aped, then expanded their heroes’ art.

Here are three variations on this bedrock of modern music, done up with pride, reverence and, in one case, even a dose of nihilism.

GREGG ALLMAN is lucky to still be around. “The high cost of low living” serves as title to one of his band’s later songs, and he sings it with rue and utter conviction. That, and a brief marriage to Cher.

He had a liver transplant last year, and his other organs are reportedly looking for exit strategies, too.

His latest solo CD, LOW COUNTRY BLUES, comes 14 years since his last. While his voice seems a bit thin at times, he’s still got plenty of juice left and fire in his belly.

The estimable T-Bone Burnett (“O, Brother Where Art Thou?,” Robert Plant and Allison Krauss and literally hundreds more production credits) brings his signature integrity to the process, and oh, what a band – his usual rhythm section of Jay Bellerose on stately drums and Dennis Crouch on woody acoustic bass, Dr. John on (surprisingly restrained and in-the-pocket) piano, Doyle Bramhall II on stinging clich/-resistant guitar, a swinging horn section (on five cuts) and even T-Bone on rhythm guitar.

The opener, “Floating Bridge,” gives pause. It has a haunted-sounding beginning, thumping walking bass matched with tick-tock rim shots, then Allman’s voice comes in, distantly-mic’ed and dry. Soon enough, the song and the performance warms to the task at hand, and you’re hooked.

Subsequent tracks reveal more nuance and variation. All but one are covers of classic but not done-to-death gems.

Prime among them are “I Can’t Be Satisfied” (Muddy Waters’ earliest), “Blind Man” (big band swagger), “Please Accept My Love” (New Orleans triplets, Fats Domino homage) and “Tears, Tears, Tears” (Dr. John shining).

The new one, “Just Another Rider” (co-written with fellow Band-mate Warren Haynes) is a fine addition, albeit a tad out-of-place with its rolling beat and modern chord progressions.

The real deal here – authentic and engrossing. May he not wait another decade-plus before his next.

I hadn’t heard of CAROLYN WONDERLAND until a recent sideways reference caught my eye. She’s from Houston, she’s 38 and she sings and plays the hell out of the blues, among other styles.

She’s had the inevitable comparisons to Janis Joplin (see her record cover), but she’s got a whole lot more range and subtlety than her Texan forebear. She’s got serious guitar chops, too.

Her most recent record, MISS UNDERSTOOD, is a revelation. Mentored, produced and played upon by Asleep at the Wheel’s monarch, Ray Benson, the album’s got an impressive roster of musicians and songwriters. Lloyd Maines contributes his many talents, Jamie Oldaker sits in on drums and Cindy Cashdollar plays dobro and steel guitar. Horns and a string section figure prominently on a few cuts.

She gets off quickly with “Misunderstood,” with slide (lap steel?) mastery impressing almost as much as her singing. “I Found the Lions” gets spooky and menacing with its talk of escaping (and then succumbing to) death by carnivore’s jaws, but you’d be hard-pressed resisting the balls-out arrangement, with its horns blasting and guitars wailing.

A big deep breath comes next with “Bad Girl Blues,” a Bruce Robison-penned country lament featuring Cashdollar’s weeping steel work.

The album’s only misstep comes next with “Walk On,” a hyperactive rave-up marred by a disco-derived beat and bass line and hokey horn arrangements.

The ship’s righted immediately and for good with “Still Alive and Well,” the Rick Derringer song made famous by Johnny Winter. “Long Way to Go” presents a way to Wonderland’s future, with its wide dynamics and sophisticated use of violin and time-shifts.

“I Don’t Want to Fall For You” is cabaret vamping of the first order, and “Trouble in the City” packs a wallop with its threatening and violent imagery.

She closes with three self-written tunes that show great range.

“I Live Alone With Someone” captures that special brand of loneliness perfectly with a ‘Lonely Avenue’ vibe, “The Farmer Song” is a heartfelt ode to “the one who feeds us all” and “Feed Me to the Lions” closes the set with yet another feline-related tale of impending mayhem, this one a lot quieter with an arresting cello and violin arrangement.

What a great and wonderful thing it is to discover a new talent.

And now for something completely different. JON SPENCER’S BLUES EXPLOSION’s strongest (or in some eyes, only) link to the blues may be in their name. Controversial since their beginning in 1991, they simultaneously revere and ridicule the music with gleeful abandon.

JSBE has now released a massive retrospective, DIRTY SHIRT ROCK ‘N ROLL: THE FIRST TEN YEARS. Twenty-two cuts of the gnarliest punk-funk make a strong case for this band’s place in rock history.

Apparently Mr. Spencer has an anarchist’s soul inhabiting a funky white boy’s body. He has repeatedly professed befuddlement at certain critics taking offense at his stage antics and black affectations. I don’t really think the purity of his motivations matter all that much, with music this compelling.

Just try and resist the manic blast and thrust of “Chicken Dog,” featuring famed R&B cut-up Rufus Thomas, the slinky falsetto seduction of “Magical Colors,” the hellhound-on-my-trail “Money Rock & Roll” (the kind of song ZZ Top wish they could still make), the total debauchery of “Lap Dance,” the stop-on-a-dime funk of “Afro” – it’s fairly impossible if you’ve got a drop of rock ‘n’ roll in your soul.

And to have that means you’re in touch with the blues, without which there would be no rock.