Sonny Boy Williamson – Down And Out Blues – MCA Records CHD-31272 

Twelve cuts of creative blues genius encompass this document by one of the genre’s true virtuosos.  Front-to-back, from cut one to cut 12, the blues here are unparalleled in their inventive brilliance.  Williamson recorded volumes of blues work throughout his storied career, but for my money, this collection satisfies on every level, and may just be his best.   

With these selections having been recorded between August, 1955-March, 1958 over the course of six individual studio sessions, this collection was originally released in 1959, and was Williamson’s first full-length album, made available on Chicago’s Checker label.  There is no filler among the blues tunes presented here; each of Williamson’s blues rightfully stand upon their own merits. 

The sidemen who worked with Williamson on these cuts are an assemblage of Chicago blues luminaries, including Muddy Waters, Jimmy Rogers, Luther Tucker, and Robert Jr. Lockwood providing guitar work, Otis Spann presenting his piano skills, Fred Below offering his stellar drumming, and Willie Dixon working the low-end via his bass offerings. 

And then, there is Williamson’s virtuosic harmonica skill set.  His harmonica talks, squalls, pleads, incites, prophesizes, and laments in its various presentations.  Williamson was a magician via his harmonica, and the manner in which he could fashion various shades of personal circumstance through his humble instrument is astounding.  He soars, bends notes, drives with abandon, sets assured, affirmative climates, and embellishes all other moods of the human condition via his harmonica dexterities.  Whatever the blues tune at-hand, Williamson’s emotion is assuredly conveyed via his harmonica’s screeches, cries, yelps, whines, moans, and howls. 

Williamson was a master storyteller, and this exemplary compilation finds him expressing all manner of emotional context.  “Don’t Start Me To Talking” finds him confidently assured, “Fattening Frogs For Snakes” hears his promise of finality at working toward the benefit of others, while “Your Funeral And My Trial” promises quick retribution for being wronged.  “99” finds Williamson lamenting monetary shortcomings, while “Cross My Heart” suggests that wrongdoing after promises made is a deal killer.

This collection, in summation, brings foreboding threats, wistful melancholy, comedy, promises unto oneself, irony, and insights unto all manner of affairs of the heart. 

The level of blues musicianship found here is awe-inspiring, and is a collective primer of the heyday of Chicago blues ensemble playing.  Nobody overplays; this is Williamson’s show, yet the whole of collaboration here is extremely pleasing. 

There are volumes of Williamson’s work available, dating from his earliest Trumpet label recordings.  Williamson just never seems to disappoint.  Based upon the strength of the whole of this outing, and its expansive attributes, if your blues collection does not have any Sonny Boy Williamson, this is the document of his blues capacity that you need.  It is incomparable in its quality and representation of his blues status. 

Essential indeed!