HIGHWAY IS MY HOME
J.B. Hutto
Highway Is My Home, recorded on the French Black & Blue label late in 1978, is part of Evidence Records’ reissuing of the Black & Blue catalog. Chicago drum legend Fred Below is featured on this disc, although Slim’s regular drummer during this period was Nate Applewhite. Especially appealing is the presence of the late Coleman (“Alabama Junior”) Pettis on rhythm guitar. Although technically limited, Pettis achieved a synergy with Slim that can only be described as uncanny; the two seemed to fill in each other’s empty spaces with an instinct that bordered on the psychic.
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Despite the tantalizing lineup there are problems with this disc, and a lot of them can be laid at Black & Blue’s door. European blues labels tend to romanticize unadorned spontaneity, sometimes to the point of forcing even the most modern blues artists into the sparsest context imaginable. Even a well-rehearsed group like Slim’s can need direction in the tense sterility of a studio environment, and there are places here where one wishes a little more care had been taken to hone and finish the product to better reflect the level of talent on hand.
At that time Slim used to kick songs off too slowly and then speed up to a more appropriate tempo, perhaps to compensate for drummer Applewhite’s tendency to accelerate. Below, a jazz-trained drummer with a somewhat intractable personality, apparently insisted that the tempo Slim started off with was the tempo he was stuck with. As a result some songs–especially “Country Girl”–drag noticeably.
Slide guitarist J.B. Hutto, who died in 1983, was even fiercer than Slim. When Slideslinger was recorded, in April of 1982, Hutto was already a sick man–in the late 70s diabetes and the death of his longtime drummer Frank Kirkland had even forced him to quit performing for a time. But his energy level on this disc seems virtually undiminished.
“That’s the Truth,” another antic fable about infidelity and heartbreak, triumphs over drummer Leroy Pina’s lackluster accompaniment; “Lula Belle’s Here” scores a similar victory over Black & Blue’s muted production. “Lula Belle” is a virtual showcase for the interplay between the guitarists: Coveney sounds as if he’s trying to do to the Chuck Berry tradition what Hutto does to the Johnson/James slide heritage–take what’s already a primal sound and strip it to its essence. Hutto tears off a few nonslide phrases, sputtering and chaotic, then launches into a glorious, upward-spiraling slide finale.
