JD Simo and Luther Dickinson - Do The Rump!

If your tastes are strictly of the blues-rock variety á la Bonamassa or Kenny Wayne Shepherd, or maybe straight up Chicago blues, then I suggest you look away now.  Do The Rump! ain’t that kinda thang.
What we have here is blues mavericks JD Simo and Luther Dickinson getting together with Simo’s drummer pal Adam Abarashoff to rehash a selection of deep blue classics in singular fashion.  Seems they basically chucked some appealing song titles in the air, found a groove or rhythm to start the engines, then riffed and wriggled around it on the fly while the tapes were rolling. The result is a magnetic, immersive journey to the centre of . . . somewhere pretty damn trippy.

Abarashoff, Simo & Dickens - as they don't call themselves

Pic by Zac Childs

To be fair, they ease you into it with the swampy strut of opening track ‘Street People’.  But by the denouement of the nearly 10-minute closer ‘Peaches’ they’re off the main drag into an Electric Ladyland of asymmetric, zig-zagging disassociation, for want of a better description.
‘Street People’ kicks off with buzzing guitar from Simo, followed by a slightly off-kilter rhythm from Abarashoff that Dickinson joins with some deliciously dirty, guttural bass to create a jagged, swampy groove. Simo’s slide guitar then slurs around an ear-catching line for a moment before his vocals make a drawling entrance.  Dickinson peels off into a different bass riff, over which Simo ducks and dives into a squawking, squeaking solo, and they’re off and running.
JJ Cale’s ‘Right Down There’ is also patient but buoyant, but with its repeated offbeat rhythm  low swooning guitar, and Simo groaning away at the simple lyric before adding a slinky, slithering slide break. It's a take on Cale fit to give Clapton kittens.

From there on though, things start to follow a more trance-like path.  Dickinson takes over on lead guitar and vocals for ‘Lonesome Road’, calmly harmonising with himself while Simo’s bass bumps around deep below.  They surface on a lighter groove, Luther orbiting around it with a scratching, grinding, bleeping solo like a satellite transmission gone wonky.  Then ‘Come And Go With Me’ is their first outing in two-guitar-no-bass mode, the two guitars winding in and out of each other while Simo hollers the minimalist “Yeaahh, come on baby!” lyrics, the ghost of Hendrix flitting in and out of earshot here and there.
John Lee Hooker’s ‘Serves Me Right To Suffer’ opens with a stuttering rhythm and expressively plonking bass, while Simo’s guitar picks and pecks away like a bird chasing a worm.  Simo’s drawling vocal is very Hooker-like, but what really makes the track stand out is the way the guitar work mutates into sub-Saharan blues shapes, acquiring a sparkling, twinkling, twirling character over Abarashoff's relentless drum pattern.
The rhythm on ‘Do The Rump Louise’ is another wacko animal, like a three-legged horse trying to break into a trot.  A mash-up of Junior Kimbrough’s ‘Do The Rump’ and Simo channelling the lyrics of Fred McDowell’s ‘Louise’, it’s all stop-start stuttering guitars welded to a North Mississippi Hill Country groove, until Simo devolves into an impressionistic, volume knob-twiddling solo, followed by Dickinson embarking on another screeching, clanking excursion. ‘Come On’ follows, the only original fare on the album, and a perky little vignette spun off from ‘Come And Go With Me’ that's a palate cleanser before the climax of ‘Peaches’.
‘Peaches’ is an RL Burnside song that Dickinson and brother Cody tackled with North Mississippi Allstars on their album Up And Rolling.  That NMA reading was a bright and sassy duet between Dickinson and Shardé Thomas, but this is a not-quite-lazy, loping creature that sounds like a spliff was sparked in the break beforehand (and not the first one of these sessions, perhaps).  It's a low slung, two-guitar affair, with a nagging riff and drum pattern as backing for Dickinson’s languid vocal.  Then in their own good time the guitars start conversing, trading discordant flourishes and jazzy, flickering forays, before plunging into that final disintegrating coda.
There’s a sense in which a blow-by-blow account of proceedings like this is beside the point, of course.  Do The Rump! isn’t just a collection of songs.  It’s a spider’s web, spun out of country blues and more exotic ingredients, to capture the listener and cocoon them in the vibe.  Turn on and tune in, hipsters!
 
Do The Rump! is out now on Forty Below Records.

North Mississippi Allstars - Set Sail

There was this music documentary a year or two back.  The legendary drummer Bernard Purdie was on it, recalling a session for those studio-tanned perfectionists Steely Dan, after a gaggle of other skinsmen couldn’t satisfy them on a track.  “We don’t want a shuffle!”  Fagen and Becker insisted.  “Yeah sure,” Bernard thought to himself, “but you ain’t heard the Purdie Shuffle yet.”  Then he started playing his patented rhythm – but quietly, using just his fingertips on the snare drum.  “What the fuck is that?!” exclaimed the Royal Scammers - instantly ensnared, as it were.

North Mississippi Allstars audition for a remake of The Usual Suspects

A subtle approach, you see, has its own power.  And so it is with this latest outing from the North Mississippi Allstars, aka the brothers Luther and Cody Dickinson and whichever pals they’ve co-opted this time around.  When I first came across NMA, via their crackling 2000 album Shake Hands With Shorty, their modus operandi was shake, rattle’n’rollin’ North Mississippi Hill Country blues.  Nowadays though, the brothers are more like cognac poured over ice – warm but chilled, dudes.
So here we have drummer Cody Dickinson adopting a Purdie approach on both the opener ‘Set Sail Part I’ and the following ‘Bumpin’’, tip-tapping away at mischievous stop-start rhythms.  On ‘Set Sail Part I’ this accompanies spare, low slung guitar fills from brother Luther, who then harmonises with the guesting Lamar Williams Jr (son of the late Allmans bassist) on a cool, mantra-like vocal about how “The water may rise again”.  Dickinson adds occasional slide guitar frills, and then for good measure they introduce shivers of strings and moaning horns.  ‘Bumpin’’ is then similarly low key, with some laid back guitar’n’bass chit chat between Luther and bassist Jesse Williams, as they create a vibe to reflect the line “Life is but a dream”.
There’s less-is-more percussion on ‘Didn’t We Have A Time’ too, something of a throwback to the title track of their previous album Up And Rolling.  It starts off simply, with some shimmers of guitar and lap slide, then nifty little themes gradually take shape, swirling around on guitar and vocals, while electric piano adds further remarks.  It all gets quite psychedelic, like they’ve been at the mushroom tea again.  The rhythmic groove is a smidgen more emphatic on ‘Rabbit Foot’, but still low key on a reverie reflecting on a classic blues lyrical theme – death.  “Give me an unmarked grave, and a box of bones” they sing, and if that sounds pretty morbid, it’s stirred into life by spells of iridescent blues-jazz fusion.
There’s upbeat fun going on too though.  ‘See The Moon’ has a soul-funk groove grounded in a solid backbeat and throbbing bass, coming over like Prince with the kink ironed out and replaced by swampiness.  Luther D sprinkles guitar glitter over the top while glistening keys flutter in and out, and Lamar Williams and Sharisse Norman get together on some guy/girl call and response vocals.  ‘Never Want To Be Kissed’ is classic Memphis soul, graced by the classic, rich soul voice of William Bell, who weaves himself around a simple melody with a great hook.  It’s embellished by swooning strings, nods and nudges of horns, and Motown-like female backing vox, with filigrees of teasing guitar to the fore on the coda.  And ‘Juicy Juice’ has a bass-pumping funk groove over a slippin’and’trippin’ drum pattern, with some borderline hip-hopping backing vocals adding another rhythmic texture – all in all rather like a relaxed take on something from Beck’s Midnite Vultures album.  I’ll leave it to you to ponder exactly what beverage they’re enthusing about.
The closing ‘Authentic’ just about sums up the North Mississippi Allstars.  You could call it a manifesto, but that sounds too kinda radical, ya dig?  Call it a meditation maybe, on community, and on love, peace and respect.  In mellow, cheerful style, they proclaim harmoniously that “We don’t need to see the guns in the streets”, and “Music and love is what I believe”.  NMA are indeed for real, but always with the audio equivalent of a knowing wink, right the way to Luther Dickinson’s grinning, witty lap slide excursion to finish.
Set Sail won’t be everyone’s cup of cappuccino – too blissed out, not enough geetar horsepower.  So be it.  While the Dickinson brothers continue to be true to themselves, we can always bank on some musical originality and humanity coming down the line.  Dig it, people!
 
Set Sail is released by New West Records, available digitally now, and on CD/Vinyl from 1 April.

New Moon Jelly Roll Freedom Rockers - Volume 2

If what you’re after is a slab of blues-rock seething with guitar sorcery, I suggest you get off the bus at the next stop.  This ain’t that kind of album.
The New Moon Jelly Roll Freedom Rockers – and that’s a mouthful I won’t be repeating much, believe me - weren’t a real band.  They were a bunch of roots music comrades who got together in the studio back in November 2007, set the tapes rolling, and  - well, played some stuff.  And it’s taken till last year with Volume 1, and now with Volume 2, for the fruits of those sessions to see the light of day.

Memphis big cat Jim Dickinson

The thing is, these weren’t just any old blues geezers.  They included Luther and Cody Dickinson of the North Mississippi Allstars, and their dad, that redoubtable stalwart of Memphis music Jim Dickinson, who died in 2009.  Also present were the respected Clarksdale harp player Charlie Musselwhite, Grammy Award-winner Alvin Youngblood Hart, and their pal and Squirrel Nut Zipper-in-chief Jimbo Mathus.
The feel of what they recorded is similar to Ian Siegal’s Picnic Sessions album, which was also recorded in the Dickinsons’ Zebra Ranch studio in Mississippi, with some of the same personnel.  The Jelly Rolling gang sat themselves down in a circle and played live, pulling out old covers and a few of their own songs, and capturing them in the most relaxed, down-home style you can imagine.
If a crate of beers and some bottles of rye were dispatched along the way, I wouldn’t be at all surprised.  The Charlie Mingus tune ‘Oh Lord, Don’t Let Them Drop That Atom Bomb On Me’,

Charlie Musselwhite - have harp, will wail

for example, is a slow blues that sounds like a bourbon-soaked funeral march, with Jim Dickinson delivering a plaintive moan’n’groan of a vocal, his chiming piano counterpointing a tentative guitar solo.  The closing ‘Blues Is A Mighty Bad Feeling’ is mournful too, the beat dragging like the half-step-and-pause of a slow march as Dickinson père croons along over warm, spare guitar chords and lonesome harp.
They can swing too though, as they show on a reading of ‘Messin’ With The Kid’ that’s way closer to Junior Wells than Rory Gallagher.  Dickinson senior provides vocals again, growling along over skimpy promptings from son Cody’s drums, twitching rhythm guitar, and Charlie Musselwhite tooting away on the stumbling riff before providing a solo to go along with a sparkling guitar break.  And there’s a similar light touch later, on Jimmy Reed’s ‘Can’t Stand To See You Go’, all chirpy piano and harmonica flourishes.
After taking the lead vocal on opener 'Blues For Yesterday', Musselwhite is also to the fore on the atmospheric highlight and dark-from-the-off ‘Black Water’.  He offers up ghostly harp to accompany lowdown guitar work that’s like an alligator gliding through the bayou, later migrating into a slithering harp’n’slide conversation, while stirrings of drum paradiddles conjure up snakes in the bushes.  But if all that sounds like the setting for a midnight-at-the-crossroads yarn, Musselwhite’s semi-spoken vocal is in fact a reflection on the modern world.

Jimbo Mathus comin' at ya!

  Brighter notes come in the likes of ‘She’s About A Mover’ and ‘Searchlight’.  Alvin Youngblood Hart takes the mic on the former, a Sir Douglas Quintet song owing plenty to Ray Charles, Hart’s voice light and airy for a big fella, over an oom-pah rhythm and jittery tweeting organ, ahead of a fuzzy guitar solo.  On the following ‘Searchlight’ it’s Jimbo Mathus who takes the floor, with some bass work lending a warmer sound, while harp, slide guitar and piano all interweave, Musselwhite gets his wail on for a solo, and some spiky guitar adds extra spice.  Luther Dickinson also gets the chance to shine on the instrumental ‘Blue Guitar’, his slide guitar moaning and slithering around the melody from ‘You Shook Me’, guitar and harp eventually squeaking away together over a grinding rhythm that’s very ‘Chicago Blues’.
What the New Mooners got down was ensemble stuff, feeling their way around each other and the songs to create something organic – loose and spontaneous rather than tight and structured.  Freedom Rockers indeed.  If that sounds like your kind of gig, then get yourself a beer, pull a chair up to the circle, and listen in.
 
New Moon Jelly Roll Freedom Rockers Volume 2 is released on Stony Plain Records on 26 March.
 

Mike Zito And Friends - Rock'N'Roll: A Tribute To Chuck Berry

Doubtless some folk will think that putting together an album that revisits a bundle of Chuck Berry’s hits – 20 of ‘em, to be precise – is a redundant exercise.  Others are liable to see the unique selling point of this album as the range of guest guitarists on display, including the likes of Joe Bonamassa, Walter Trout, Robben Ford and Eric Gales.

For me though, one of the key attractions is that Mike Zito has made an old-fashioned rock’n’roll record.  See, while Zito is rightly appreciated as a leading modern-day bluesman, his 2015 album Keep Coming Back, made with his then band The Wheel, was very much a

Mike Zito - Let It Rock!

rock’n’rollin’ affair.  Hell, it even featured a cover of Bob Seger’s ‘Get Out Of Denver’, a direct descendant of ‘Johnny B. Goode’ if ever there was one.  It was also, as I have never tired of pointing out, my favourite album of 2015.  In short, Mike Zito’s affinity for this brand of rock’n’roll is the catalyst for a tribute album that captures the fun, energy and magic of Chuck’s music while giving it a modern sound.

And to some extent, all those guest guitar honchos are an unnecessary distraction, because with songs as good as ‘Rock And Roll Music’, ‘Johnny B. Goode’, ‘Back In The USA’ and all the rest, all a pro like Zito needs to do is wind ‘em up and crank ‘em out.  You can’t lose.  Though it’s fair to say that many of them in fact make contributions that merrily catch the Chuck Berry spirit.

Fittingly, the album opens with W.C. Handy’s ‘St Louis Blues’, celebrating the hometown of both Chuck and Mike, and here with an on the money lead guitar slot from Chuck’s grandson Charles Berry III.  It also sets the standard for the fundamentals of what follows, with a lively rhythm laid down by Matthew Johnson on drums, backed up by Terry Dry on bass, while Lewis Stephens whacks out some pounding piano.  And as on several other tracks, there are horn interjections to add further highlights, though any horn players seem to be uncredited.  And Zito’s voice, it’s worth emphasising, is an excellent fit for these songs.

Early highlights for me include the aforementioned ‘Rock And Roll Music’, on which Joanna Connor delivers some slithering slide guitar while backing up Zito on vocals, and the horns bring Hispanic hints to the fray.  Walter Trout gets very much in the mood on ‘Johnny B Goode’, duetting with Zito in rabble rousing fashion before the two of them cut loose simultaneously on guitar.  Meanwhile Anders Osborne reflects the more laid back vibe of ‘Memphis’ with some relaxed, sparkling slide that’s witty in tone as it plays around with the melody.

‘You Never Can Tell’ and ‘Back In The USA’ both illustrate Berry’s quality as a lyricist, respectively a perfect little short story of young love conveyed in a couple of minutes, and a brashly energetic, neon-lit collage of Fifties America, sizzling burgers and all.  Robben Ford

Eric Gales - one of 21 guest guitarists reeling' and rockin'

decorates the former with playful guitar, finding unusual angles, while Eric Gales reins in his usual whirlwind self on the latter, catching the mood with pinging playing over pummelling drums from Johnson.

Luther Dickinson brings a fresh guitar tone to ‘Too Much Monkey Business’ and doubles up on vocals with Zito entertainingly on the tongue-twisting lyric, while Stephens gets down to some rootin’ and tootin’ on piano.  Contrastingly, Sonny Landreth scatters woozy slide licks around with restraint on ‘Havana Moon’, respecting its dreamy salsa feel.

‘Downbound Train’ is an interestingly dramatic slow turn at the story of a hellbound loco, with spot on spooky guitar licks over ticking drums, though Alex Skolnick perhaps gets too modern in feel in his hurtling solo.  And ‘Thirty Days’ also strikes a different chord, featuring Albert Castiglia on its very country-leaning twanging.

There’s plenty of other good stuff too, but the album has its imperfections, just like Chuck himself.  The song selection could have been better, eschewing the fluff of ‘My Ding-A-Ling’ and one or two lesser tracks in favour of the mysteriously absent ‘Little Queenie’ and ‘Roll Over Beethoven’.  And the treatment of the slower ‘Wee Wee Hours’ is a real aberration - I’m no Joe Bonamassa-hater, but Zito really should have asked him what in the Sam Hill he thought he was doing slathering the song in a succession of full throttle guitar breaks that bear little relation to a Chuck Berry vibe.

But those concerns aren’t enough to spoil an album that’s a fitting, fun tribute to one of the giants of rock’n’roll music.  So kudos to Mike Zito for that, and for delivering what to these ears is the most enjoyable thing he’s done since Keep Coming Back.

Rock’N’Roll: A Tribute to Chuck Berry is released by Ruf Records on 1 November.

North Mississippi Allstars - Up And Rolling

The North Mississippi Allstars hold a special place in my affections.  When I started getting into this blues thing a bit, they were one of the first bands I discovered for myself.  At the time I knew diddly squat about the North Mississippi hill country, or the singular mysteries of the blues emanating from the area.  But when I got hold of their album Shake Hands With Shorty my jaw dropped.  These Dickinson guys could groove like gravy (I’ve just made that up, but you get the alliterative idea) with nagging rhythms, and then next thing they’d explode all over the place.

Some of the NMA collective

And I'm pleased to say they’ve come up with the goods again.  Up And Rolling is inspired by the rediscovery of a collection of photographs harking back to Luther and Cody Dickinson's formative experiences of the musical heritage of the North Mississippi hill country, and includes reworkings of old songs from their mentors and influences, as well as originals from the Dickinsons and their pals.  But it’s also a celebration of the community and lifestyle from which it springs. And the emergence of NMA from the hill country and its music is well captured by Luther Dickinson in the booklet accompanying the CD – including his inimitable description of his own guitar playing:  “I forged my style of psychedelic open tuned fingerpicked bottle neck country blues guitar by combining the horizontal melody of Fred’s [Mississippi Fred McDowell] and Otha’s [Otha Turner] bamboo can fife with rock’n’roll tube amp power and thumb picked rhythmic boogie as marching drums in the distance.”  You said it Luther.

So they open up with ‘Call That Gone’, tripping along on a paradiddle rhythm from Cody Dickinson and rumbling bass from Carl Dufrene, while Luther trades call and response vocals with Sharisse Norman.  At first there are just intermittent injections of ragged slide guitar and flute-like fife from Sharde Thomas, but later they’re ramped up until they and the drums are in fiery, but controlled, competition.  You won’t get stuff like this on your bog standard blues-rock album.

And to underline that point, they follow that with ‘Up And Rolling’, a deliciously dreamy affair, and little wonder when it’s evoking hazy Mississippi days drifting along on a stream of weed, LSD and mushroom tea.  Built around a lovely descending melody, it hangs together beautifully, with those silky female vocals to the fore.  Not to be done, Luther comes up with some delightful, delicate guitar work, that in combination with Wurly piano from brother Cody brings to mind Hendrix in hypnotic mode.

They venture into a more traditional blues format on Little Walter’s ‘Mean Old World’, with a circular, pinging guitar figure, and Jason Isbell guesting on vocals, but they’re still adventurous with it, as a slide solo eventually takes off into an extended uptempo passage that’s very Allmans in style – making full use of the presence of Duane Betts on guitar.  (Apparently the song was once recorded by their father, muso and producer Jim Dickinson, with Duane Allman and Eric Clapton during the Layla sessions.)

The Dickinson brothers make World Boogie

But they also dig down into the hill country roots, with a couple of RL Burnside songs in the form of ‘Peaches’ and ‘Out On The Road’, the former improvising around the patient groove, and the latter brief and to the point.  Junior Kimbrough’s ‘Lonesome In My Home’, meanwhile, is a largely downbeat affair with ticking drums and distorted, haunting vocals that begin collide with modern guitar sounds until at times it sounds like it’s on the cusp of falling apart.

But other influences are reflected too, as on the ‘Pops’ Staples song ‘What You Gonna Do?’, which with Mavis Staples guesting is gospel reframed as simple and repetitive soulfulness.  And there’s also the vintage gospel of Tom Dorsey’s ‘Take My Hand, Precious Lord’, a great tune on which Luther Dickinson trades vocal and guitar licks with Cedric Burnside.

And there are socially conscious original songs too, with ‘Bump That Mother’ and ‘Living Free’ both featuring lyrics that cleverly make the political personal. The former is again tripped out, with a tense riff playing off more great female vocals, and some more spaced out Dickinson guitar.  The latter is laid back and soulful, with a catchy guitar riff and guest vocals from Tierini and Tikyra Jackson of the rather wonderful Southern Avenue.

North Mississippi Allstars are more a collective than a band, with Luther and Cody Dickinson at the helm.  Up And Rolling is the latest phase in their mission to bring the North Mississippi hill country to the world, and new generations, and make good on the last words of their father, Jim Dickinson - “World Boogie is coming!”

Up And Rolling is out now on New West Records.

Samantha Fish - Belle Of The West

Samantha Fish may rock’n’roll and wring that guitar neck with the best of them, but there’s also been plenty of evidence of her softer side over the years.  Exhibit A, your honour – the smoky and sultry ‘Feelin’ Alright’ on her debut album.  And Exhibit B, if I may – her second album Black Wind Howlin’, which featured the delicate ‘Over You’ and the shuffling, fiddle-backed ‘Last September’.  Then there is Exhibit C - the numerous excursions into acoustic territory on Wild Heart, culminating in the heart-melting ‘I’m In Love With You’.  I submit that it’s an open and shut case – Samantha Fish is a natural at this Americana business.

Samantha Fish - Just your average Americana guitar pickin' girl next door

Pic by Chris Bradley

So it seems entirely logical that she’s now gone the whole hog and devoted her latest album to the genre – even if it’s her second album of the year, and a pin-balling change of direction from the urban R’n’B of the preceding Chills & Fever.

For Belle Of The West young Samantha has hooked up once again with Wild Heart producer Luther Dickinson, and this time roped in several of his regular North Mississippi compadres for back-up, such as Lightnin’ Malcolm, Jimbo Mathus, and drummer/vocalist and fife player Sharde Thomas – among others.  And the results are top notch.

Not immediately perhaps, as ‘American Dream’ and ‘Blood In The Water’ come across as appetisers, rather than the full blown main course.  But Fish and her pals really hit their stride on ‘Need You More’.  Over a simple, shuffling drum pattern, the arrangement is distinguished by marvellous moans of violin from Lille Mae, and it has a lovely melody that’s a perfect home for Fish’s voice.

‘Cowtown’ is a more robust effort, with some rippling electric guitar, swinging drums and “bye bye baby” lyrics – I think Fish has a thing about heading for the county line.  But ‘Daughters’ and ‘Don’t Say You Love Me’ get back on the acoustic track.  The former is built of simple, warm piano chords from Mathus, gradually augmented by weeping fiddle, and firm, pushing drums that create tension before the pace picks up on the chorus.  The latter is more-ish to say the least.  Again underpinned by piano and muted fiddle, it features some interesting phrasing and a yearning chorus, as well as some very Sam Fish vocal twists including a couple of steepling long notes.  Oh yes, and there’s a subtle electric guitar break for good measure.

If the first half of the album is comprised wholly of Fish originals, the second half blends in three damn fine covers, leading off with the title track from Jimbo Mathus. It’s a lilting slice of country, introduced by the lines “On the Vermilion River/On a packet bound for St Claude/Rides the lady we love best”.  Oh Jimbo, you dog – you know how to paint a scene don’t you?  And Sam Fish knows how to convey the mood too, over moonlit violin and faintly Hispanic guitar.

Understandably, R.L. Burnside’s ‘Poor Black Mattie’ isn’t as wild as the North Mississippi Allstars' reading on Shake Hands With Shorty.  But it’s still an irresistibly rattling, body-twitching romp through the hill country, on which Fish duets with Lightnin’ Malcolm, yielding the foreground to him.

She duets again, with Lillie Mae on the latter’s ‘Nearing Home’, to even better effect.  It’s a restrained but gorgeous affair, on which Fish and Mae’s hushed voices wash over simple acoustic guitar and mournful fiddle.

In between there’s ‘No Angels’, with tick-tock drums and warm piano in the background, pulsing upright bass from Amy LaVere, an attractive melody and a gradual gathering of voices.  And to close things out there’s the brief belter that is ‘Gone For Good’, a cheery affair right from the pre-song studio chat.  It combines a bouncing rhythm with picked and slide guitar in a Hill Country-ish rendition of a very Fish-style melody, recalling one of my favourite songs of hers, ‘Kickaround’.

Is Belle Of The West as good as that other quick-fire Dickinson acoustic collaboration, Ian Siegal’s Picnic Sessions?  Perhaps not, but it’s not far off.  It’s a great ensemble affair in which the whole is greater than the sum of the parts – although Lillie Mae does make a signal contribution.  But it also demonstrates once again that Sam Fish is a standout singer, with an astonishing vocal toolkit allied to the ability to invest real personality in the material.  And she can write a damn good tune too.  The verdict is in.  Sam Fish and Americana – oh yeah.

Read Blues Enthused's exclusive interview with Samantha Fish here.