Despite the much-vaunted universality of blues expression, the grafting of disparate blues styles into a coherent whole can be a tricky business. In the prewar Chicago days of Lester Melrose’s Bluebird label, the work of artists like Memphis Minnie and Big Bill Broonzy was sometimes diluted by producers attempting to enhance their sounds with trumpets and clarinets. In Memphis during the late 40s, the uneasy equilibrium between Howlin’ Wolf’s raw power and the developing sophistication of sidemen like Junior Parker and Matt “Guitar” Murphy resulted in a sometimes spellbinding, sometimes nearly chaotic mix.
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One might expect a band like Anson Funderburgh and the Rockets, which features harmonica player Sam Myers to demonstrate problems such as this. Funderburgh and his band play hip Texas-style shuffle blues from the mold of that joyous aggregation of brilliant young guitarists–Johnny “Guitar” Watson, Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown, and other musical descendants of T-Bone Walker–who played and developed in the thriving postwar Houston scene. They also throw in a good dash of rockabilly exuberance. Myers, on the other hand, is a straight-ahead Mississippi harmonica man and blues shouter who played drums and occasional harp behind Elmore James in Chicago in the mid-50s and has been a stalwart of the blues scene in the Jackson, Mississippi, area for over 30 years. He is best known for his 1957 recording (on the Ace label in Jackson) of “Sleeping in the Ground,” which was adapted by Blind Faith in 1969.
From the first note, however, all misgivings were dispelled. The Rockets exploded into a rollicking boogie, immediately establishing their mastery of the jaunty, upbeat-accented shuffle that characterizes much of the postwar Texas sound. They provided a propulsive kick to Funderburgh’s crisply articulated leads. It’s always a treat to hear young musicians who can play with energetic abandon and remain tasteful; these men showed immediately that it’s one of their strongest points.
Funderburgh started out sparse, firing sharp musical sparks into the empty spaces provided by the rhythm section. Slowly he built into an aggressive finale that made clear the influence of Freddie King, especially in the harsh chords he used to complement the fleet picking of his leads. Throughout the evening, Funderburgh demonstrated an uncanny ability to come up with solos that sounded both thoroughly spontaneous and unarguably right, as if each note were the only possible one that could be used in its space. Such a fusion of exploratory flair and improvisational logic is rare even among seasoned guitarists (one thinks of Chicagoan Byther Smith’s Razor Records LP a few years back), let alone a relatively young man like Funderburgh.
Art accompanying story in printed newspaper (not available in this archive): photo/Marc PoKempner.
