Note: In lieu of a blues artist profile this week, I’ve chosen to present my thoughts on some current concerning trends I find with both blues radio and the record labels.  I’ll return to presenting a blues artist profile next week.

I am confident that this is going to be a controversial writing, but the topics I want to broach have been at the forefront of my mind for some time, and are ones that continue to occupy my blues contemplations.

Surely, as with any far-reaching art form, the blues enjoys resolute support and appreciation across not only genders, generations, and geographic spaces, but also other demographic definitions and boundaries.

So, what a Caucasian male in blues-loving England frames in his or her mind when thinking of the blues will undoubtedly diverge from the notion of what the music represents and should sound like when considered by a Black blues fan, say, in Clarksdale, Mississippi.  Someone whose indoctrination into the blues occurred in urban Chicago will most likely have their blues preferences differ from those whose lasting blues impressions were formed in an eastern, western, far northern or far southern U.S. locale, be they urban or rural in nature.  Or in any area outside of the U.S.  Therein lies one of the beauties of the blues; the ability to have something to offer to any comer.

If one prefers the so-called “lump-de-lump” of the classic post-war Chicago blues sound, there is another blues fan, as an example, in the north Mississippi hill country area whose blues liking is defined by the quite divergent fife and drum tradition.

For each blues fan whose blues interest slants toward the finger-picking ragtime constructs of the Piedmont blues school, there is yet another who finds the smooth, silken tones of the 1940s west coast cool blues to their liking.

While the possible boogie woogie, melodic high register forays, and deep tonal excursions of blues piano clicks the blues boxes for some, the emotional dark wailings, or the confident, buoyant struts of a blues harmonica practitioner checks the blues satisfaction boxes for yet others.

Even still, while the uptown, machismo-infused singing of Artie “Blues Boy” White lays bare for some the thoughts deeply recessed in their minds, the deeper yet, soul-laden reflection of Johnny Adams or James Carr may more ideally reflect the blues turmoil within a listener’s heart and mind.  More still, perhaps the at-times comical, yet wholly blues-infused singing of Rick Estrin quenches the blues thirst for others.

The over-arching point here is that there is, and always has been, blues that are unique to myriad regions ad sub-regions and the resulting fans’ tastes, and due to the folks brought into the blues wherever they are and whenever their blues interest was struck, they had their musical palates shaped by their unique experiences.

Does that prevent one’s blues tases and biases from further developing and extending into other blues forms?  Of course not.  If one falls down the proverbial blues rabbit hole there are two obvious paths.  One is to embrace their indoctrinating blues stimuli as the one-and-only type of the music that they want and need.  The second course seems to arise when the individual, through a broader appreciation for the blues, wherever and whenever it began for them, begins a search that leads them to further consider differing styles of the art form, in essence opening their ears, hearts, and minds to new sounds and the resulting emotional blues impacts.

Each roadway is soundly acceptable.  What matters most is that the blues lives through each respective fan, regardless of their preferences.  There is, as is said, “plenty to go around.”

And, for each preferred blues style, there is a singular “sound,” emotive impact, and background framing out of which it arose to immediately make it identifiable to the individual affected by it.  And naturally, as time moves forward, and no matter how slight, how the music is presented at the time of its origination, when combined with new issues and topics it is tackling, the music itself is necessarily altered.  It becomes a reflection of that specific time and place.

With the blues, like most other musical genres, the ingredients for making the physical music don’t much change.  Certain instruments remain at the core of the music (of course, given whatever form is being created); acoustic or electric guitar and bass guitar, harmonica, drums and cymbals, mandolin, piano, organ, and those used in unique forms of the genre including the cane fife, kazoo, and jaw harp, as examples. 

And certainly, electronic wizardry at some point entered electrified blues, as is often seen on the stage floor near guitarists, as examples, are a variety of sound pedals.  And, guitars themselves have various controls to shape their tonal creations.

The notion of electricity also plays an important role, as by its very definition of electric blues manifests the use of amplification, at least with the instrumentation, though one often finds the acoustic blues artist “mic’d-up” to be heard.

And electricity plays a role with vocals, as well, as the decision to sing through a microphone is dictated, again, by various factors.

Now, with all of that lead-in out of the way, it’s time to get to the crux of where I’m trying to go.  I currently see and hear some things in the blues that are deeply concerning, and though as both a long-time fan of the music, and hopefully as a measured quasi-scholar of the genre (remember, my Master’s Degree thesis from Indiana University dealt with the notion of trave in blues lyrics – how’s that for a personal justification for my thoughts), I, as previously inferred, understand that the blues needs to undergo a measure of continued metamorphosis to stay current; however, specific trends have me concerned, confused, and frankly, somewhat upset.

While driving the other day, I had my vehicle’s radio tuned to Sirius XM’s blues station (note: I do note reference the channel’s name here).  Back-to-back-to-back, the first songs played on the radio were by Orianthi, The Australian guitarist and singer-songwriter, and artist who is generally billed as a rock guitar slinger who prepped to tour with Michael Jackson, toured with Alice Cooper’s band, was country star Carrie Underwood’s lead guitarist, among other non-blues efforts (she did release her first lead single in her name in 2024, one that featured Joe Bonamassa, and a cut by Alastair Greene, an artist touted for being a ”21^st century blues-rock guitarist and singer,” and a selection by Low Society, an American blues-rock band formed in 2009 by Sturgis Nikides and Mandy Lemons.

Respectfully, just because Orianthi released the aforementioned blues tune with Bonamassa, and also because the song being played by Sirius XM had the word “Feeling” in its title does not, in my learned opinion, make it a true blues release and worthy of airplay on Sirius XM’s blues channel, certainly not at the expense of other firmly blues-dedicated artists whose music strives to be more to form.  Orianthi’s song construction had no framework identification with the blues; rather, it was akin to pop music that one may hear on Z100 out of New York.  Her vocals were thin and indicative of one of today’s sterile female pop singers, and when she did provide a guitar solo, as said to some effect in the movie Spinal Tap, it was as if her amplifier had been turned up to “11,” with a level of sustain and reverb that can only be described as excessive, with fingers generically running her fretboard with every cliched curlicue excursion possible.  In short, there was no blues construction or feeling whatsoever in the sonic blast I witnessed.

The Alastair Greene cut, though by an artist who is capable of bringing more to the table blues-wise, disappointed on numerous fronts.  His song also majorly lacked many aspects of blues convention, and when he let loose with a tonal foray on guitar it was completely devoid of any meaningful and worthy blues formation.

Then, and simply, the Low Society tune was, in essence, a country song with overly dramatic singing with phony sounding long ending syllables at the ends of sung stanzas.  I thought that perhaps Sirius XM had automatically changed my supposed blues channel to one of their country stations.

And while I drove and listened, really listened, to Sirius XM’s blues programming, I found more of the same, way more, of this supposed blues clatter flowing forth from my vehicle’s speakers.

I feel like a real hypocrite here.  Years and years back, I recall watching a young gunslinger out of Austin, Texas develop into a blues-rock giant and coming to an appreciation of him; Stevie Ray Vaughan.  Vaughan, a fervent blues fanatic who apprenticed with a broad band of blues titans, including his older brother, Jimmie Vaughan, like George Thorogood and Johnny Winter brought awareness of the blues bedrock found in his music to a new generation of young fans.  Of course, this was not a new phenomenon, as bands such as The Rolling Stones, The Yardbirds, and others in the 1960s ushered in blues-based sounds to adoring young folk.  Even more, one should look to John Mayall for all he did to raise the blues consciousness among younger fans.  With Mayall, all one has to do is count the number of guitarists who steeped themselves in the blues, including Eric Clapton and Coco Montoya.  At the time, I bought in on all these artists.

Without a doubt, Vaughan’s guitar style, as an example, was not subtle.  He was capable of great, loud flourishes of guitar showmanship and technical prowess.  However, and this is a big “however,” Vaughan’s bombastic guitar cries were influenced by, and deeply resulting from, his front-facing experience from a young age with the blues legends he learned directly from in Austin, a group for our purposes here that is too broad to outline.  He never lost sight of those mentors and experiences, and his music has a depth of reverence that made it stand out.  Plus, his vocals were steeped in emotional impact, an aspect of his entire package that should be recognized more than it is.

As much as I stand in awe of the blues music form from its earliest incarnations right up to today to the many fine artists and bands who don’t get the heightened awareness they should enjoy (think Gerry Hundt, The Dig 3, Anthony Sherrod, Benny Turner, Johnny Nicholas, Steve Nardella, and Guy Davis), I am startled by the lack of dynamics in much of today’s new offerings that I feel diminish the blues feel and those artists who are propounded to be blues artists.

No less than Bob Koester, the patriarch and founder of the acclaimed Delmark Records label (before its sale and the seemingly appropriation of its past by current ownership) and the Jazz Record Mart in Chicago, a personal music hero and valued acquaintance of mine, always believed that the vocals came first in a blues song, and that the story told was of the most importance.  Similarly, Koester felt that the emotional impact of the music was of paramount importance, whether it came from the vocals, the instrumentation, or a combination of the two.  The song was a delivery of a story, and there was no room for unnecessary overbearing noise.  He was correct.

As I’ve listened to more of today’s blues, while I revel in the efforts of those who understand that dynamics crucially natter, I stand gravely concerned by a lot of what is being passed around as blues.  How so?

Once I took notice of what I heard from the aforesaid Orianthi, Greene, and Low Society, it has remained easy for me to tune-out much of today’s contemporary blues.  Instinctually, when I heard what concerned me, I could move on to let it be “background noise” and nothing more.  Except, I broke my protective cover and again really started listening closer to the modern-day blues I was dismissing.  And again, my concerns rose, higher still.  As I considered more closely the blues I was intentionally trying to eschew, those unsettling commonalities within the music I disfavored continued to climb and grow in awareness.

I found all manner of vocal histrionics, obviously barren of even a sliver of emotional effect and storytelling substance, often, very often, put forth with zero sincerity.  Respectfully, Muddy Waters must be spinning in his grave out there in Restvale Cemetery in Alsip, Illinois.  Waters fully understood that the story within a blues song was “the point,” and he knew how to put one across.  Always.  There were no phony vocal inflections required, no verbal grandstanding just to seem cocksure.  Any passionate verbal assaults in his blues were there to hammer home the song’s main story objectives.

“But Curt, what about Waters stretching out the word “man” at the end of phrases in certain of his titanic blues compositions?”  Think “Hoochie Coochie Man.”  Tell me that Waters’ use of the “King’s English” was anything other than an artist at the height of his emotional involvement and we may have to resort to fisticuffs.

Also, across today’s blues labels and blues guitarists like the said Orianthi and Greene, when did the abandonment of touch and feel give way to the previously referenced reliance on excessive volume, sustain, and reverb effects?  Listen, no less than Earl Hooker was a champion of the wah-wah effect, but never to overindulgence.  It built drama within his blues songs, only enhancing the entire tapestry of the outing.  Why are the labels believing that blues fans, real blues fans, want to hear nothing but shrieking, soulless guitar raids?

Much of today’s guitar soloing is so self-indulgent and overflowingly loud and frenetic as to result in a wholly grating outcome.  It’s as if the blues artist is getting paid by a formula that takes into account the number of notes utilized and the volume by which they are unfurled; a piece work blueprint, if you will.

And regarding guitar gymnastics, I’ve recently heard a younger blues artist, one who has familial lineage in the blues, whose forebear indeed had a grasp on tonal dynamics wailing away at high volume with more sustain and reverb on display than is logical to consider.  It was an overly-frenzied conveyance of blues spirit, one virtually absent of providing any blues shadings, rendering their offerings nothing more than mere noise.

“But Curt, what about Buddy Guy?”  OK, there is another hypocritical aspect with my argument given Guy’s historical vocal and guitar onslaughts.  Then again, Guy came out of the deep U.S. South northward to Chicago already steeped in the blues, arriving in the big city to very dramatic circumstances, and if not for the concern, care, and nurturing of blues stars already in the metropolis, he may have never been heard from.  Because of this background, Guy has always held his humble career beginnings and those who initially helped him (think Muddy Waters) in great regard.  Yes, he’s always had a more “in your face” style both vocally and guitar-wise, one apparent even on his earliest sides, but one can successfully argue that he has consistently been reverent to the blues art form.  I do have distresses about his latter-day offerings where he seems to have fully embraced his audience’s desire to see and hear him showboat in performance, and agree that his act became more over-the-top in the past couple of decades.  But Guy’s respect for the blues has never been in question, and if a man of his influence in his eighties wants to show-off, given his background and admiration for the music, then who am I to loudly crow about his current-day theatrics?

And finally, very concerning to me is the perception that some artists who present as blues practitioners do so only in an attempt to get radio and streaming airplay as a way of circumventing their inabilities to break through into the crowded and “by formula” pop field and other music arenas.  This is especially distressing, as it takes a rightful seat on the blues airwave’s bus away from those artists whose bodies of work certifiably deserve it.  Think again Orianthi.  And please don’t get me started on Bonamassa. Unlike someone like Vaughan or Thorogood (who has spent a lifetime preaching to anyone who will listen the high merits of blues giants such as John Lee Hooker and Elmore James), Bonamassa seems to worship at his own alter of excesses without the coursework and respect given to the blues like Vaughan and Thorogood.  Coupled with his cartoonish sunglass-wearing, head-bobbing onstage buffoonery, while he does expose many to the blues, he seems wholly disingenuous. Though I admit, he’s one that I’ve not spent time talking with one-on-one.

Blues radio is scant.  There are the highly-dedicated few like Harvey Stauffer at WVPE-FM 88.1 in Elkhart, Indiana whose twice weekly blues radio program presents a solid six hours of the music, and a fair and wide-ranging of all aspects of the blues.  And it’s not that Sirius XM’s blues efforts are unappreciated or designed to be of intentional diminishment of the blues.  The channel’s weekend acoustic blues programming has legs, though even there some of the offerings are questionable.  At least their trying.  But they’re often misguided.

But larger exposure blues outlets like Sirius XM need to be more balanced in their programming towards artists who strive for approaches more respectful of the genre’s past and its time-honored dynamics.  Artists like Mark Hummel, Marcel Smith, Alabama Mike, D.K. Harrel, Diunna Greenleaf, and the long-time great Junior Watson deserve to have their blues music creations heard among the guitar screamers and “can’t-male-it-in-another-genre-so-I’ll-try-the-blues” wannabes. 

The music labels are culpable in all this, and will always fall on the “what-the-public-wants” sword.  Or, they will smugly languish on the “but-if-they-won’t-tour-their-music-won’t-sell” position.  However, in a niche musical market such as the blues, if the music’s of top-shelf quality, it will sell, either in physical units or streaming.  The exemplary blues of The Dig 3 is one example.

I’ve bore witness to some of the best blues being made in small joints by dedicated artists whose backgrounds may surprise some, players whose talent so fully surpasses what is fed to blues fans via the labels and radio channels, artists whose unwavering commitment to the blues is cementing, in theory, to the future of the blues as it should be presented.  Many of these blues artists are non-professional musicians who hold “regular” day jobs, but there are also full-time blues men and women out there whose music is authentic and of the pinnacle of quality today so as to merit recording and radio recognition. Their staunch dedication to blues music excellence, one void of the musical excesses previously referenced or the need to cross over into the blues genre just to be heard because the blues is not their natural landing spot (as those we’ve already discussed just seeking much-desired recognition and radio airplay), deserve valid opportunities.

This blues blogger with more out of the rearview mirror than perhaps what is out of the front windshield is not a believer, in any respect, that the blues needs to stay mired in in older habits.  But certain concepts remain true; be authentic, stay within time-honored musical constructs, be tasteful, and tone and touch matter.  Currently, and unfortunately and somewhat shamefully, music labels and radio stations are doing the blues grave disservices.  Listeners and fans, demand better.  You deserve it.  The blues deserves it.

Listen closely to what the labels and radio are feeding you.  All I ask is that you give my thoughts fair consideration as you listen.  There is some very good blues being made, and some of it is being appropriately heard, praised, and played.  Some will never be recognized.  And there is some absolutely atrocious music invading the blues sphere that is pushing legitimately talented blues artists to the side.  If you agree, let your voice guide you, along with your wallet.  Don’t support it.  The blues needs our help right now.