Imelda May – “What We Did In the Dark” 2021 from 11 Past the Hour. Imelda May is one of my favorite singers of this century. She made a splash in the late 00s singing some great rootsy sort of material, but once she divorced from her husband and band leader Darrel Higham, her music stopped knowing any boundaries. This cut, a duet with a singer/guitarist named Miles Kane who I haven’t encountered elsewhere, is all about lust and sex and the ways it can overcome difficulties outside the bedroom. It has this absolutely stunning lyric: “Slipping skin into sinful divinity.” Just roll that line around in your mouth – it’s delicious. The track is led by a heavy bass and drums, with some synthesizer in the background. May sings cooly, sensuously, then bites into some lines, soaring with “It’s dangerous what the night brings out.” Kane joins her a bit on the chorus, then sings the second half of the second verse himself. They play off each other well, though I’ll be honest, I’d probably be happier if he stuck to background vocals. May has so many skills as a singer, he can be a bit of a distraction from her. The last minute of the song really soars, with both singers alternating against May’s overdubbed “do-do-da”s and lust takes over the whole sound.
J.E. Mainer’s Mountaineers. – “Cumberland Gap” year unknown from The Legendary J.E. Mainer Vol. 4. I’m very unclear about this one that I stumbled on the other day. It sounds like it was recorded in stereo, but Wikipedia tells me Mainer stopped recording in the late 40s. At any rate, it’s a fun old-time string band performance, fueled by Mainer’s sawing fiddle and whoever is playing the banjo at this point in the Mountaineers varied existence. The rhythm section of guitar, bass, and washboard provides all the dancing impetus one could want. There are two verses sung here, basically about walking through the Cumberland Gap, which ain’t his home. This is a lively, exuberant performance, and I’m glad to have found it even if I don’t know much about it.
Eddie Boyd “Empty Arms” 1966 single available on The Complete Blue Horizon Sessions. A relaxed Chicago shuffle rhythm wedded to a funky New Orleans-styled piano, this Memphis blues record is one of those low level gems that turn up in piles of obscure 45s if you get really lucky. Me, I actually discovered it on a Blue Horizon various artists compilation. Boyd is an interesting guy, a piano player and singer who had a long career riding the tails of his biggest hit, “Five Long Years,” recorded back in 1952. He wasn’t a distinctive singer, but he was a capable one, and I like the way he uses the “wo-oh-oh-oh-oh” in the New Orleans tradition. He was a distinctive piano player, and he interjects all sorts of cool melodic comments, even competing with the sweet clean guitar solo that takes up two choruses in the middle of the record. The “Empty Arms” of the title get filled, by the way, as he finds the type of partner who he needs “when I’m disgusted to bring me good news.”
Gregg Allman “Tears, Tears, Tears” 2011 from Low Country Blues. Gregg Allman spent most of his life playing with the Allman Brothers Band which he co-founded with his brother Duane, But every once in a while, he’d sneak away and release a record under his own name. To my ears, the finest of these solo albums, with possibly the best singing he ever did, was this penultimate record of his career. “Tears, Tears, Tears” was originally done in a spare, jazzy manner by Amos Milburn back in 1951. Allman’s version is just as mournful, but fuller, and he attacks the vocal more than the original, where Milburn laid back from the beat a bit. The jazz element is still here, with horns added, and liquid guitar fills in both channels. It’s a relaxed feel even as Allman intensely cries, “Wish I could laugh, wish I could cry / Got so tired of living, do not wanna die.” Bad luck follows him, but he’s still determined to find “real true love somewhere.”
Earl King – “I Can’t Help Myself” 1960 single available on King of the Blues. Sometimes you hear an old record that sounds so tailor made for the Rolling Stones in their first couple of years that you can’t believe they never recorded it themselves. Not that they could have improved on this classic New Orleans soulful blues or bluesy soul version by the man who “Let the Good Times Roll.” King had a delightful crack in his tenor vocals that made him always sound more emotionally connected to whatever he was singing. This cut features that New Orleans piano groove with an occasional two note harmonica figure and a neatly snarling but clean guitar solo. King sings his tale of uncontrollable love for his partner, and the good times seem ready to roll once again.