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Blues Musicians Archives - Page 3 of 194 - I Love Blues Guitar
I Love Blues Guitar

Category: Blues Musicians

  • Joe Louis Walker – One Time Around

    Joe Louis Walker – One Time Around

    Joe Louis Walker: The Bluesman Who Blew the Doors Off My Expectations

    Some artists you like. Some you admire. And then there are those rare few who floor you the minute they hit a note. That’s what Joe Louis Walker did to me.

    I first stumbled on Joe in the early ‘90s—late night, cheap whiskey, FM radio crackling out of a half-broken speaker. The song was “I Didn’t Know,” and the second his voice cut through the static—rich, sharp, gospel-soaked—I sat straight up. Then came the guitar: funky, fiery, furious. I thought, Who is this guy?

    That night began a long, beautiful dive into the world of Joe Louis Walker—a bluesman who refuses to be boxed in, and who still, after all these years, plays like he’s got something to prove.

    A Bay Area Blues Force

    Joe was born in San Francisco in 1949, and you can hear that mix of grit and cosmopolitan swagger in everything he does. He came up fast—sharing stages as a teenager with legends like Lightnin’ Hopkins, Buddy Miles, and even Jimi Hendrix. But what separates Joe isn’t just who he’s played with—it’s what he brings.

    He’s a guitarist, yes. A fierce one. But he’s also a vocalist, a songwriter, and a master of crossing boundaries without ever losing the soul of the blues.

    He can slide into soul, gospel, rock, funk, even a touch of jazz—and yet it all feels of a piece. It’s all Joe.

    Albums That Changed My Understanding of Modern Blues

    If you think modern blues is just tired 12-bar loops, Walker will shake that belief right out of your head. Albums like:

    • 🔥 Blues Survivor (1993) – This one sealed the deal for me. The title track is like a punch to the gut.
    • 🧨 JLW (1994) – Raw, tough, funky, and full of blistering guitar work. One of his most versatile albums.
    • 🎤 Everybody Wants a Piece (2015) – Proof he’s still on top of his game, decades later. Nominated for a Grammy, and deservedly so.

    He’s also done amazing collaborative work—just check out Eclectic Electric or his guest appearances on albums by other blues giants. The man never phones it in.

    Seeing Joe Live: A Baptism by Fire

    Seeing Joe Louis Walker live is like stepping into a revival tent run by a guitar preacher. He doesn’t just play—he testifies. He paces the stage, eyes closed, wringing every ounce of emotion out of his axe. Then he steps to the mic and preaches—not with words, but with a voice so full of soul and grit it could raise the dead.

    I saw him once at a blues fest in the mid-2000s. Sun beating down, crowd half-asleep from the heat—until Joe took the stage. Within two songs, people were up dancing. By the end, strangers were hugging, sweating, laughing. That’s the Joe effect. He brings the church to the blues.

    Why Joe Louis Walker Still Matters

    Joe doesn’t get the mainstream credit he deserves, but talk to any real blues fan—or any serious player—and his name comes up fast. He’s that rare artist who can hold tradition in one hand and innovation in the other. He’s not afraid to experiment, to push the genre forward without ever losing respect for where it came from.

    He’s also a proud, vocal Black artist in a genre that too often sidelines the very people who built it. Joe brings that awareness to his music without preaching—he embodies it. He lives it.

    Where to Start

    If you’re new to Joe Louis Walker, welcome to the deep end. Here’s your essential starter pack:

    • 🎸 JLW – Start here. A monster album full of groove, grit, and soul.
    • 💥 Blues Survivor – One of his most emotionally powerful albums.
    • 🔊 Hellfire (2012) – Produced by Tom Hambridge. Intense, bold, and electric.
    • 🏆 Everybody Wants a Piece – Grammy-nominated and fully loaded.
    • 🎙️ Weight of the World (2023) – Proof the fire still burns hot.

    Joe Louis Walker isn’t just keeping the blues alive—he’s making sure it stays dangerous, soulful, and fully charged. If the blues had a modern prophet, it’d be this man right here. And believe me, you want to hear what he’s preaching.

    Thank You

    We appreciate your time and dedication to reading our article. For more of the finest blues guitar music, make sure to follow our Facebook page, “I Love Blues Guitar”. We share exceptional selections every day. Thank you once again for your continued support and readership.

  • Big Jack Johnson – Daddy, When is Mama Comin’ Home?

    Big Jack Johnson – Daddy, When is Mama Comin’ Home?

    The Oil Man of the Blues: Why Big Jack Johnson Still Lights My Fire

    Some blues hit you in the bones, some in the soul—and then there’s Big Jack Johnson, who hits you in both, and leaves your feet moving and your heart wide open. The first time I heard him, I was driving late at night, flipping through radio static when “Daddy, When Is Mama Comin’ Home?” came on. I had to pull over. That deep, rumbling voice, that sweet, stinging guitar—it was like hearing the Delta speak directly to me.

    Since then, Big Jack Johnson has never left my rotation—and never left my heart.

    Clarksdale’s Own Blues Powerhouse

    Big Jack Johnson came from Clarksdale, Mississippi, the cradle of the Delta blues. He didn’t just grow up in the blues—he lived it. Born in 1940, he worked as a truck driver and oil delivery man (hence his nickname, The Oil Man), hauling fuel by day and playing music by night. That kind of life doesn’t just give you stories—it becomes the story in your music.

    And let me tell you: Big Jack’s music is full of real-life grit, struggle, love, and joy. You can hear the work boots in his rhythm, the Mississippi heat in his solos, and the weight of generations in his voice.

    More Than Tradition—A Blues Innovator

    What blew me away about Big Jack was how he took the traditional Delta sound and supercharged it. He brought fire to it, fun to it, and funk to it. While other bluesmen might stick to the 12-bar form, Jack would throw in soul grooves, rock ‘n’ roll crunch, even a little country flavor when he felt like it.

    He could go from a slow burner like “Mama Talk to Your Daughter” to an all-out jam like “We Got to Stop This Killin’” without missing a beat. And through it all, his guitar sang in that unmistakable style—fat, funky, sharp as a razor.

    He wasn’t afraid to say something either. Jack often tackled real issues—poverty, violence, family, injustice. His 2002 album The Memphis Barbecue Sessions has a track called “Katrina” that still makes the hair stand up on my neck.

    The Jelly Roll Kings and Beyond

    Big Jack first made waves in the ‘70s as a founding member of The Jelly Roll Kings, alongside Frank Frost and Sam Carr. That trio was straight-up Delta fire. Their record Rockin’ the Juke Joint Down is still one of my favorites to this day—it’s greasy, it’s joyful, it’s got that juke joint magic you can feel in your bones.

    But Jack wasn’t content to stay in the background. His solo career took off in the ‘90s with albums like The Oil Man (1990), We Got to Stop This Killin’ (1996), and All the Way Back (2000). Every one of those records is a blues lover’s goldmine—raw, heartfelt, and 100% Jack.

    The Live Show I’ll Never Forget

    I saw Big Jack Johnson live once, in a small Mississippi club that felt like someone’s living room. He walked in with a big grin, shook hands with half the crowd, and then picked up his guitar like it was no big deal. But when he started playing—man—the place lit up like the Fourth of July.

    He didn’t just perform. He communicated. He laughed, he preached, he wailed. He’d hold a note on the guitar like it was hanging by a thread, then snap it back to life and get the crowd hollering. I remember thinking, this is what the blues is all about. Not perfection. Not polish. Power. Personality. Truth.

    Why Big Jack Still Matters

    In a blues world full of imitators, Big Jack Johnson was the real deal. He honored the Delta tradition but wasn’t bound by it. He kept it alive by evolving it—bringing in new sounds, new topics, and new energy.

    He passed away in 2011, but his influence runs deep. When I listen to young blues players today who blend soul, funk, and grit, I hear Big Jack in there. He paved that road. He hauled the oil and lit the flame.

    Where to Start if You’re New

    Here’s your crash course in the Oil Man’s blues:

    • 🔥 The Oil Man (1990) – The essential solo debut. Tough, funky, emotional.
    • 🥁 We Got to Stop This Killin’ (1996) – Blues with a message and a heartbeat.
    • 🎸 All the Way Back (2000) – Soulful and sharp, a modern blues masterclass.
    • 🎶 The Jelly Roll Kings – Rockin’ the Juke Joint Down (1979) – Raw trio magic.

    You can also check out Live in Chicago, which captures his stage energy beautifully.

    Big Jack Johnson didn’t just keep the Delta blues alive—he electrified it, funked it up, and gave it a new soul. If you like your blues real, raw, and ready to groove, the Oil Man is your guy. And once he grabs you, he won’t let go.

    Thank You

    We appreciate your time and dedication to reading our article. For more of the finest blues guitar music, make sure to follow our Facebook page, “I Love Blues Guitar”. We share exceptional selections every day. Thank you once again for your continued support and readership.

  • Otis Rush – It’s My Own Fault, Baby

    Otis Rush – It’s My Own Fault, Baby

    The Soul of the West Side: How Otis Rush Shaped My Blues Journey

    Some blues hit you in the hips. Some hit you in the gut.
    Otis Rush? He hit you straight in the heart.

    The first time I heard his voice—that voice—I was floored. I was digging through a friend’s vinyl collection when he dropped the needle on “Double Trouble.” And there it was: slow, stinging guitar and a pleading, aching vocal that sounded like heartbreak itself had taken human form. It was heavy. Soulful. Real. I just sat there in stunned silence.

    That was my introduction to Otis Rush, and I’ve been under his spell ever since.

    West Side Sound, Deep Soul Feel

    Otis wasn’t from Chicago originally—he was born in Mississippi in 1934—but when he plugged in his guitar and stepped onto the stage of West Side clubs in the ’50s, he rewrote the rules. He brought a fiery emotional depth to electric blues that stood apart from the raw Delta sound and even from the better-known South Side Chicago scene.

    He didn’t just play notes—he cried them out through his guitar. He made his Fender Stratocaster weep.

    Alongside fellow left-handers like Albert King, Otis helped forge what became known as the West Side sound: deeply expressive, drenched in feeling, laced with jazz and soul, and led by guitar phrasing that stopped you cold. You could always tell when Otis was playing. Nobody bent notes like him.

    That Voice—Raw and Regal

    I can’t talk about Otis Rush without talking about his voice. You know how some singers feel like they’ve lived every word? Otis sounded like he had bled every word. His high, wounded tenor on songs like “My Love Will Never Die” and “All Your Love (I Miss Loving)” didn’t just tug at your heartstrings—they tore them out.

    To this day, if someone tells me blues is just about licks and lyrics, I tell them to go listen to Otis sing “I Can’t Quit You Baby.” If that doesn’t change them, nothing will.

    Live in the Flesh

    I was lucky enough to see Otis perform in the ’90s, after his comeback from a long hiatus. I remember watching him walk slowly onto the stage—modest, quiet—and then pick up that guitar like it was part of his body. From the first note, the room changed. He wasn’t flashy. He wasn’t loud. But man, he was powerful.

    During “Right Place, Wrong Time,” he played a solo that felt like it stopped time. You could see people wiping their eyes, completely caught off guard by how deep he went. I left that night changed. I still say it was one of the most emotional performances I’ve ever seen—blues or otherwise.

    Albums That Shaped Me

    There are a few Otis Rush records I consider essential blues education.
    Start with “Cobra Sessions (1956–1958)”—raw, groundbreaking, and way ahead of its time. These are the sides that made people like Eric Clapton, Peter Green, and Stevie Ray Vaughan take notes.

    Then there’s Right Place, Wrong Time (1976). To me, it’s his masterpiece. It’s not just a great blues album—it’s a soul album. The guitar playing is restrained, tasteful, devastating. The title track alone? Whew. That song hurts—in the best way.

    Finally, Live in Europe is an incredible document of a legend giving everything he’s got to a room full of believers. If you never got to see him live, this is the next best thing.

    Why Otis Rush Still Matters

    Otis Rush taught me that the blues isn’t about how many notes you play—it’s about how much pain and truth you can pack into just one. He didn’t play the fastest, or the loudest, or with the most flash. He just played real. And that’s why so many of the greats—from Clapton to Hendrix to SRV—called him a hero.

    He passed in 2018, but his spirit lives in every soulful bend, every slow-burning solo, every tear-soaked lyric. If you’ve ever felt broken, Otis is the kind of blues that puts you back together—not by ignoring your pain, but by making you feel seen.

    Where to Begin

    New to Otis Rush? Here’s your starter kit:

    • 🎸 Cobra Sessions – The beginning of West Side blues. Essential.
    • 🎤 Right Place, Wrong Time – Pure emotion on vinyl.
    • 🎶 Mourning in the Morning – Funky, experimental, underrated.
    • 🔥 Live in Europe – Raw and beautiful.

    And if you find yourself needing a reminder of how deep the blues can go, just put on “Double Trouble,” close your eyes, and feel it.

    Otis Rush didn’t just play the blues—he gave it a soul. And that soul still echoes in every heartbreak, every slow jam, every bend that aches just a little too long.

    Thank You

    We appreciate your time and dedication to reading our article. For more of the finest blues guitar music, make sure to follow our Facebook page, “I Love Blues Guitar”. We share exceptional selections every day. Thank you once again for your continued support and readership.

  • Elvin Bishop – My Dog

    Elvin Bishop – My Dog

    Getting Funky with Elvin Bishop: My Rockin’ Road Through the Blues

    There’s a moment I’ll never forget: I was in the back of a smoky bar sometime in the late ’70s, cheap beer in hand, when Elvin Bishop and his band kicked into “Travelin’ Shoes.” That first riff hit like a jolt, and by the time the horns came in and Elvin let out one of his goofy grins, I knew I was in for the ride of my life. Funky, loose, loud, and real—Elvin Bishop didn’t play the blues by the book. He made his own book, scribbled all over the margins, and turned every show into a party.

    And I’ve been riding that groove ever since.

    From Tulsa to the Fillmore: The Making of a Bluesman

    Elvin Bishop wasn’t born in the Delta—he came from Tulsa, Oklahoma—but that didn’t stop him from soaking up the blues like a sponge. He made his way to Chicago in the early ’60s and plugged himself straight into the heart of the electric blues scene. While most of us were fumbling through college, Elvin was playing with Little Walter and Howlin’ Wolf—and oh yeah, he just happened to end up in the Butterfield Blues Band alongside Mike Bloomfield.

    That lineup changed American music. Period.

    The Butterfield band was my introduction to Elvin. He wasn’t the flashiest player on those records, but there was something about his style—loose, rhythmic, joyful. He didn’t play like he was trying to prove something. He played like he loved it.

    When He Took the Lead—and Took Off

    When Elvin struck out on his own in the early ’70s, that’s when things really got cooking. His solo work was more playful, more Southern-fried, more him. Songs like “Stealin’ Watermelons,” “Sure Feels Good,” and “Travelin’ Shoes” became staples in my house—and still are. It wasn’t just blues. It was swampy, funky, soulful joy.

    And then, of course, there’s that song.

    In 1976, Elvin released “Fooled Around and Fell in Love,” with Mickey Thomas on vocals, and suddenly the whole world was listening. That tune still gets airplay to this day—and yeah, it’s smoother than most of his catalog, but that’s the magic of Elvin. He could do heartache just as well as humor. It was all part of the same human story.

    Seeing Elvin Live: The Church of the Groove

    If you’ve never seen Elvin Bishop live, do yourself a favor and fix that. I’ve seen him more times than I can count, and each show feels like a backyard barbecue where everybody’s invited. He comes out with that big ol’ red Gibson, cracks a few jokes, kicks into a groove, and suddenly you’re part of the band.

    He doesn’t just play for the crowd—he plays with the crowd. Between songs, he tells stories. Half the time you’re laughing so hard you almost forget he’s about to melt your face with a slide solo. And when he does let it rip, it’s all feel. No ego, no flash—just straight-from-the-heart blues.

    Elvin Bishop’s Big Fun Trio: The Second Wind

    Just when you think a guy might slow down, Elvin pulls out something like Elvin Bishop’s Big Fun Trio. Launched in the late 2010s with Bob Welsh and Willy Jordan, this stripped-down combo brought all the groove, grit, and humor of Elvin’s early days—but tighter and deeper.

    Songs like “Can’t Even Do Wrong Right” and “Southside Slide” are instant classics. And the trio’s chemistry? Off the charts. I caught them at a small venue a few years ago, and it felt like a masterclass in keeping the blues fresh without ever selling it out.

    Why Elvin Still Matters

    Some blues guys play with fire. Some play with pain. Elvin Bishop plays with life. He makes the blues fun without ever watering it down. He can make you laugh, dance, cry, and reflect—all within the same set. He’s never needed to chase trends or act like a guitar god. He just is who he is. And that authenticity shines through every note.

    He respects the blues tradition but refuses to be boxed in by it. That’s why Elvin Bishop still matters—and always will.

    Where to Start If You’re New

    Start with Struttin’ My Stuff (1975)—you’ll get the hits and the vibe. Then dig into Big Fun and Don’t Let the Bossman Get You Down!. If you’re in the mood for the raw stuff, go back to those Butterfield Blues Band records (East-West is a classic). And don’t miss anything from the Big Fun Trio—they’re living proof that you can age and evolve in the blues.

    More on Elvin’s current tours and music can be found at elvinbishopmusic.com.

    Elvin Bishop once said, “The blues is the truth.” And the truth is—nobody serves it up with more joy, grit, and personality than he does. Long live the groove.

    Thank you

    We appreciate your time and dedication to reading our article. For more of the finest blues guitar music, make sure to follow our Facebook page, “I Love Blues Guitar”. We share exceptional selections every day. Thank you once again for your continued support and readership.

  • Son House – Grinnin in Your Face

    Son House – Grinnin in Your Face

    Meeting the Blues at the Crossroads: My Lifelong Love for Son House

    Somewhere in the middle of a scratchy old record, I met a voice that felt like it came from the earth itself—raw, ragged, full of thunder and sorrow. That voice belonged to Son House. And nothing in my musical life has ever been the same since.

    I didn’t find Son House through radio or recommendation. I found him digging through an old blues compilation in the corner of a record shop—the kind of place where the lights are dim and the dust carries stories. I picked up Father of the Delta Blues: The Complete 1965 Sessions because I’d heard the name before in reverent tones. I didn’t know I was about to get hit in the chest by something realer than anything I’d ever heard.

    The First Note That Broke Me

    When I dropped the needle on “Death Letter,” my knees damn near gave out.

    That slide guitar—gritty, wild, unpredictable—sounded like it had been dragged across broken glass and soaked in Mississippi mud. And then his voice. Oh man, that voice. It didn’t sing so much as testify. It shouted from the edge of a life full of pain, regret, God, and redemption. It was a sermon. It was a confession. It was the blues in its purest, most human form.

    That one song told me more about life, loss, and spiritual survival than years of school or sermons ever could.

    A Preacher, A Drifter, A Survivor

    Son House wasn’t just a musician—he was a preacher who couldn’t shake the devil’s music. That contradiction fueled everything he did. Born Eddie James House Jr. in 1902 in Mississippi, he started as a Baptist minister. But the pull of the blues—those steel strings and that slide—was too strong to resist.

    And that tension never left him. You can hear it in every track. Songs like “Preachin’ Blues” and “John the Revelator” aren’t just about religion or music—they’re about wrestling with the soul. The man didn’t play for your ears—he played for your truth.

    He recorded a few sides for Paramount in the 1930s, then disappeared—like so many Delta musicians of that era. And that might’ve been the end of the story if not for one of the greatest rediscoveries in music history.

    The 1960s: Son Rises Again

    When the blues revival hit in the ’60s, Son House was dragged back into the spotlight—literally. Alan Wilson (who would go on to form Canned Heat), along with a few blues historians, tracked him down in Rochester, New York, in 1964. The man hadn’t played in years. They put a guitar back in his hands—and the fire came roaring back.

    His 1965 Columbia sessions are the stuff of legend. To me, that’s where the real Son House lives. Older, slower, but deeper. When he sings “Grinnin’ in Your Face,” it’s just his voice and his hands. No guitar. No backup. Just him, clapping and warning us: “Don’t you mind people grinnin’ in your face.” If there’s a more direct line from artist to listener, I haven’t heard it.

    Seeing Him in Old Footage

    I never saw Son House live—he passed in 1988, and I came to him too late. But I’ve watched every grainy clip I could find. In those black-and-white frames, you see something sacred. His eyes close. His body shakes. His slide hand moves like he’s possessed. It’s not performance. It’s release. Like he’s purging demons in real time.

    Even when he could barely play due to age or arthritis, his presence filled the room. The guitar might stutter, but the truth never did.

    Why He Still Matters

    In a world of overproduction and overthinking, Son House is a thunderclap of authenticity. No polish. No perfection. Just the raw sound of a man searching for God and wrestling with the world through a beat-up steel guitar.

    He taught me that music doesn’t need to be pretty. It needs to be honest. That the crack in the voice is where the feeling lives. And that sometimes, the heaviest sound comes from a single voice and six strings.

    For the New Listener

    Start with Death Letter. You have to. Then go straight to John the Revelator and Preachin’ Blues. After that, dive into the 1965 Columbia recordings—every track a masterclass in grit and gospel. If you want to go deeper, find those early 1930s Paramount sides—low fidelity, but higher truth.

    If you’re really serious, hunt down some video footage on YouTube or in old documentaries like The Blues According to Lightnin’ Hopkins. Seeing Son House in motion changes everything.

    Son House didn’t just sing the blues. He became the blues. And once you’ve heard that sound, you carry it with you. Like a scar. Like a gift. Like a reminder that even in sorrow, there’s something sacred worth shouting about.

    Thank You

    We appreciate your time and dedication to reading our article. For more of the finest blues guitar music, make sure to follow our Facebook page, “I Love Blues Guitar”. We share exceptional selections every day. Thank you once again for your continued support and readership.

  • Peter Green – Fleetwood Mac – Need Your Love So Bad

    Peter Green – Fleetwood Mac – Need Your Love So Bad

    The Haunted Beauty of Peter Green: A Fan’s Tribute to a Bluesman Like No Other

    Some guitarists impress you with speed. Others with flash.
    Peter Green? He broke your heart—with one note.

    I’ll never forget the first time I heard “Albatross.” I was 16, lying on the floor with a borrowed pair of headphones and a stack of vinyl from my older cousin. When that slow, shimmering guitar washed over me, I didn’t even know what to call it. It wasn’t a song—it was a feeling. I lay there, completely still, thinking: Who plays like this?

    That was the beginning of my love affair with Peter Green—and the start of a lifelong journey through the blues, the cosmos, and the quiet ache of the human soul.

    The Heart of Fleetwood Mac—Before the Pop Years

    Long before Fleetwood Mac became a stadium-filling pop-rock machine, it was a dirty, raw blues band led by a soft-spoken, shy genius named Peter Green. He formed the band in 1967 after a short but unforgettable stint with John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers—where he had the impossible task of following Eric Clapton.

    And somehow, he did. In fact, he didn’t just fill Clapton’s shoes—he made people forget they were ever there.

    Peter’s tone was warmer. Sadder. Wiser. There was no ego in it—just soul. Whether it was the mournful “Need Your Love So Bad” or the snarling “Oh Well,” you could hear the vulnerability, the hurt, the humanity. He wasn’t just playing the blues—he was the blues.

    A Guitarist Who Spoke Without Words

    People always talk about Peter’s 1959 Les Paul—“Greeny”—with its reversed pickup magnet, that signature out-of-phase tone. Sure, gearheads can get lost in that stuff. But the truth is, Peter could’ve played a broomstick with strings and still broken your heart.

    The way he phrased his solos—it was like he was having a quiet conversation with himself. Like he was searching for something he’d never find, but couldn’t stop reaching for. That vulnerability is what makes his music eternal.

    You want proof? Listen to “Man of the World.” It’s not just a song—it’s a soul laid bare. That lyric—“I just wish that I’d never been born”—cuts deeper than any guitar solo ever could. And yet, his guitar somehow says the same thing… without words.

    The Tragedy of Genius

    Peter’s story isn’t an easy one. At the height of Fleetwood Mac’s early success—with hits like “Black Magic Woman,” “The Green Manalishi,” and “Albatross”—he walked away. Fame, money, pressure… it all became too much. His battle with mental illness took him to dark places. For years, he disappeared from music entirely.

    I used to wonder what might’ve been—how high he could have flown if he’d stayed. But over time, I realized: what he gave us was enough. Maybe even more powerful because of the pain behind it.

    He didn’t burn out chasing fame. He gave us a few brief years of brilliance, and then faded into legend.

    The Comeback: Quiet, Humble, Powerful

    When Peter Green resurfaced in the late ’90s with the Splinter Group, I bought every album without hesitation. Was it the same Peter Green from Then Play On? No. But it was honest. Gentle. Grateful. It felt like watching a wounded bird find flight again—wings a little bent, but still soaring.

    I saw him live once during that period. He stood quietly off to the side, playing softly, letting the band do the heavy lifting. But every now and then, that old magic would flicker through his fingers. And when it did, you could hear the crowd hold their breath. We weren’t there to see a “comeback.” We were there to say thank you.

    Why Peter Green Still Haunts Me

    There are a lot of “greats” in the blues world. But Peter Green? He was something rarer: pure. He never chased trends. He didn’t need to scream to be heard. He whispered—and we leaned in.

    In a world full of shredders and showmen, Peter Green reminds me that the real power lies in restraint, in feel, in silence between the notes.

    He passed in 2020, and I still get choked up thinking about it. But when I put on Then Play On or The End of the Game, he’s still here with me. Still asking questions we’re all too afraid to say out loud.

    For the New Listener

    If you’re new to Peter Green, start with Bluesbreakers with Eric Clapton to see where he started. Then go straight to Fleetwood Mac’s early albums: Peter Green’s Fleetwood Mac, Mr. Wonderful, Then Play On. Don’t miss “Man of the World,” “Love That Burns,” or “The Supernatural.” Then dive into the Splinter Group years.

    Every phase of his career has something to teach you—about music, about emotion, about being human.

    Peter Green didn’t just play the blues. He felt it so deeply, he bled it into every note. And that’s why, all these years later, we still hear him calling from somewhere far away… and we still listen.

    Thank You

    We appreciate your time and dedication to reading our article. For more of the finest blues guitar music, make sure to follow our Facebook page, “I Love Blues Guitar”. We share exceptional selections every day. Thank you once again for your continued support and readership.

  • John Mayall Feat. Eric Clapton – All Your Love

    John Mayall Feat. Eric Clapton – All Your Love

    Walking With the Godfather of British Blues: My Life with John Mayall

    If you’re a blues fan like me, there’s a good chance your record collection has a serious section labeled “John Mayall.” And if it doesn’t—well, you’re in for the kind of discovery that changes everything.

    I can say without exaggeration that John Mayall is the reason I fell head-first into the British blues boom—and never climbed out. His music didn’t just teach me how to listen to the blues. It taught me to respect it. And decades later, his records still feel like conversations with a wise old friend who’s seen it all.

    My First Encounter with the Bluesbreaker

    I was maybe 17 when I bought Blues Breakers with Eric Clapton on a whim. The cover—Mayall reading The Beano comic, Clapton off to the side—looked casual, but when I dropped the needle, I got anything but casual. It was like being hit by a train of tone. Clapton was a firestorm, but Mayall? He was the glue. The architect. The guy who had built a whole damn house so all these legends could step inside and play.

    I didn’t realize it then, but I’d just discovered the gateway drug to the blues. That album opened doors to Muddy Waters, Otis Rush, Freddie King, and more. And the more I learned, the more I realized that Mayall wasn’t just riding the wave—he was the wave.

    A Band of Legends—Because of Him

    You can’t talk about John Mayall without mentioning the Bluesbreakers. His band was basically the minor leagues for blues royalty: Clapton, Peter Green, Mick Taylor, John McVie, Mick Fleetwood, Jack Bruce—you name it. He spotted talent like a blues bloodhound. But more importantly, he nurtured it.

    I like to think of Mayall as the Miles Davis of the blues world. Always evolving, always listening, and always surrounding himself with the best players—not because he needed them to shine, but because he wanted to create something bigger than himself.

    That’s leadership. That’s love for the music.

    The First Time I Saw Him Live

    It was in the early ’90s. He was already a legend by then—pushing 60, thin as a rail, hair pulled back in a ponytail, shades on. He walked onto that small stage with a Strat, a keyboard, and a harmonica—and proceeded to blow the roof off.

    What stunned me most was his energy. This wasn’t a nostalgia act. This was a man living the blues, breathing it in real time. He switched from keys to harp to guitar like it was nothing, smiling the whole way through. The crowd—young and old—hung on every note.

    And when he played “Room to Move,” that hypnotic harp groove kicked in and the place went nuts. It was electric. We were witnessing history—and the man wasn’t slowing down one bit.

    Albums That Shaped My Soul

    Mayall’s catalog is a goldmine, and I’ve got the vinyl scars to prove it. A Hard Road with Peter Green is one of my all-time favorites—Green’s solos are pure heartbreak. Then there’s Crusade, where a teenage Mick Taylor sounds like he’s already lived ten lifetimes.

    But it’s not just the old stuff. Albums like Wake Up Call, Tough, and Nobody Told Me prove that Mayall’s still got fire in his belly. Even into his eighties, he was pushing forward, working with younger players like Joe Bonamassa and Carolyn Wonderland, never content to rest on past glory.

    That’s what I admire most—his refusal to sit still.

    Why John Mayall Still Matters

    In a world of blues imitators, John Mayall is the real deal. He didn’t just bring the blues to Britain—he brought it back to America with new energy. He bridged continents, generations, and styles, always with deep respect for the Black American artists who created the genre.

    More than a musician, he’s a teacher. A steward. A lifelong student who turned into the master.

    And for fans like me, he’s a reminder that the blues isn’t just music—it’s a way of seeing the world. Honest, raw, and human.

    For New Fans

    If you’re new to John Mayall, start with Blues Breakers with Eric Clapton. Then dive into A Hard Road and Crusade. From there, check out his later work like The Turning Point (a live, drumless gem) and Wake Up Call. And if you ever get the chance to catch him live—or dig up a good concert film—do it. The man gives everything on stage.

    You can explore more of his music and legacy at johnmayall.com.

    For me, John Mayall isn’t just a bluesman—he’s the reason I fell in love with the blues. And after all these years, I’m still following that sound, one note at a time.

    Thank You

    We appreciate your time and dedication to reading our article. For more of the finest blues guitar music, make sure to follow our Facebook page, “I Love Blues Guitar”. We share exceptional selections every day. Thank you once again for your continued support and readership.

  • Ry Cooder – Everybody Ought to Treat a Stranger Right

    Ry Cooder – Everybody Ought to Treat a Stranger Right

    How Ry Cooder Changed the Way I Hear the Blues—and Everything Else

    It’s hard to explain Ry Cooder to someone who’s never heard him. Is he a bluesman? A slide guitar master? A world music ambassador? A musical archaeologist? The truth is—he’s all of that and more. But for me, Ry Cooder is the guy who changed the way I hear everything.

    The first time I stumbled onto him, I didn’t even know what I was hearing. It was Paris, Texas—the soundtrack, not the movie. That lonely, weeping slide guitar felt like it was pulling memories out of me I didn’t even have. I remember sitting there with tears in my eyes thinking, Who plays like this?

    Ry Cooder does.

    The First Time I Got the Blues (Ry’s Way)

    Before Ry, I thought the blues had a narrow lane—Chicago grit or Delta dirt. But Ry showed me that the blues could live in an Appalachian holler, a Cuban alleyway, or a Tex-Mex barroom. I picked up his self-titled debut album in a used record bin sometime in the late ’70s. From the first spin, I knew this guy wasn’t your average 12-bar picker.

    He didn’t just cover old blues songs—he resurrected them. He’d take a Blind Willie Johnson tune and somehow make it sound ancient and brand new at the same time. That spooky, aching slide guitar tone—pure magic.

    And the man’s taste? Impeccable. Whether it was Lead Belly, Sleepy John Estes, or Flaco Jiménez, Ry was always shining a light on the underrated, the overlooked, the forgotten. He gave them new life—and gave me a never-ending rabbit hole of artists to discover.

    A Lifelong Road Trip with No Map

    Ry’s career is like the world’s coolest mixtape—blues, gospel, Tex-Mex, Hawaiian, African, Cuban. One minute he’s scoring a Wim Wenders film, the next he’s on stage with the Buena Vista Social Club, reintroducing the world to Cuban son music. That record alone—Buena Vista Social Club—sparked a whole global wave of interest in traditional Cuban sounds. And Ry was right there in the middle of it, not taking credit, just making it happen.

    I remember watching the documentary for the first time. I was blown away by the joy, the musicianship, the respect. Ry didn’t show up to “collaborate” like some tourist—he listened. He learned. That’s the thing with Ry—he’s a student first, always humble in the presence of great music.

    Seeing Him Live: A Rare and Holy Experience

    Seeing Ry live is no easy feat. He’s never been the “tour every summer” kind of guy. But I was lucky enough to catch him once, in a small California theater, not long after Mambo Sinuendo came out. He walked onstage with his usual low-key presence, sat down with his slide guitar, and proceeded to play one of the most soul-stirring sets I’ve ever seen.

    He barely spoke. Just played. Each note so deliberate, so emotional, it was like he was having a conversation with the universe. The crowd knew—we were witnessing something rare.

    More Than a Musician—A Teacher, A Guide

    Ry Cooder doesn’t just play music. He honors it. He brings deep respect to every project, every note. Whether he’s shining a light on old spirituals, protest songs, or Chicano rock, he’s reminding us where the music came from—and why it matters.

    Albums like Into the Purple Valley, Chicken Skin Music, and My Name Is Buddy aren’t just great records—they’re documents. Stories. Time capsules. And somehow, in the middle of all that cultural history, Ry always sounds like Ry. His touch, his tone, that haunting slide—it’s unmistakable.

    Why I Keep Coming Back

    As a blues fan, Ry expanded my world. He showed me that the blues doesn’t live in a box—it’s everywhere, if you’re willing to listen. He taught me that roots music isn’t about nostalgia—it’s about connection. And that sometimes, the most powerful thing you can play is a single, perfectly placed note.

    Whenever I need to get grounded—when the modern world feels too fast, too fake—I put on Paris, Texas or The Prodigal Son, close my eyes, and let Ry take the wheel. He always brings me back to what matters.

    For New Listeners

    If you’re just getting started with Ry Cooder, I envy you. Start with Ry Cooder (1970) and Into the Purple Valley. Then take a deep dive into Paris, Texas, Buena Vista Social Club, and Chávez Ravine. You’ll never hear the world the same way again.

    In a world full of noise, Ry Cooder plays with purpose. And for those of us who follow the blues, he’s a compass—pointing us back to the heart.

    Thank you

    We appreciate your time and dedication to reading our article. For more of the finest blues guitar music, make sure to follow our Facebook page, “I Love Blues Guitar”. We share exceptional selections every day. Thank you once again for your continued support and readership.

  • Jimmie Vaughan – Motorhead

    Jimmie Vaughan – Motorhead

    Riding the Blues Highway with Jimmie Vaughan: A Fan’s Lifelong Love Story

    The first time I heard Jimmie Vaughan play guitar, I thought, How can something this clean cut so deep? It was around 1980. I was driving an old Ford with a cassette of The Fabulous Thunderbirds’ What’s the Word blasting out of half-working speakers. When Why Get Up came on, Jimmie’s tone hit like lightning—sharp, soulful, and stripped-down. I pulled over and just sat there, listening. Right then, I knew I’d found something real.

    Big Brother, Bigger Influence

    Most people first hear Jimmie’s name in the same sentence as his younger brother, Stevie Ray Vaughan. And yeah, that’s a hell of a legacy. But let me tell you something from a lifelong fan—Jimmie Vaughan was his own man long before SRV made the spotlight. In fact, if you ask Stevie, he would’ve told you Jimmie taught him how to play.

    Jimmie’s style has always been different—more restrained, more Texas roadhouse than explosive blues-rock. Where Stevie played fire, Jimmie played ice—chilled, classy, and always in control. Less is more with Jimmie, and that’s what makes his playing so unforgettable.

    The T-Bird Years: Down and Dirty

    Seeing The Fabulous Thunderbirds live in the late ‘70s was like walking into a bar fight you didn’t want to break up. Raw, sweaty, and alive. I saw them in Austin once—packed house, cold beer, no frills. Jimmie stood stage left, barely moving, just slicing through the crowd with that Telecaster like a scalpel. No fancy solos, just groove, tone, and taste. That was the moment I realized: blues doesn’t need fireworks. It needs soul. Jimmie had buckets of it.

    Albums like Girls Go Wild and T-Bird Rhythm became my go-to records when I needed grounding. That greasy Texas shuffle was the soundtrack to long nights, heartbreaks, and a few good parties.

    Going Solo: Blues with a Suit and Swagger

    After leaving the T-Birds in 1990, Jimmie went solo and didn’t miss a step. His first solo album, Strange Pleasure, dropped in ‘94, and it was like he had finally stepped out of the shadow and into his own spotlight. Songs like Boom-Bapa-Boom and Tilt A Whirl proved he could still groove, but now with a touch of lounge cool and sharp-suited confidence.

    What I love most about his solo work is how mature it feels. There’s history in those notes—T-Bone Walker, Guitar Slim, Freddie King—all echoing through Jimmie’s fingers. But he doesn’t imitate. He interprets. He channels. He lives it.

    Keeping the Flame Alive

    When Stevie Ray passed in 1990, I worried it might break Jimmie too. But instead, he doubled down on keeping the blues alive. That tribute album they did together, Family Style, still brings me to tears. You can feel the love, the brotherhood, the mutual respect.

    Over the years, Jimmie has stayed true to the roots—no chasing trends, no selling out. Just classic, clean, straight-to-the-heart blues. He’s played with Clapton, B.B. King, and countless legends, yet he always sounds like Jimmie. And in today’s noisy world, that kind of identity is rare.

    The Last Time I Saw Him Live

    I caught him a few years back at a festival in Chicago. He walked out in a slick suit, sunglasses, and that laid-back Texas cool. The crowd roared, but he just smiled and started to play—slow, smooth, deliberate. Every note mattered. No showboating, just storytelling.

    And when he broke into Six Strings Down, that tribute to Stevie, I swear there wasn’t a dry eye in the place. Mine included.

    Why He Still Matters

    Jimmie Vaughan is more than a blues guitarist. He’s a keeper of the flame, a living connection to the golden era of electric blues. In a world full of overplayed solos and flashy pedalboards, Jimmie proves that tone, timing, and taste still rule.

    His playing has been a part of my life’s soundtrack for decades now. When I want to remember what real blues feels like—tight rhythm, warm tone, the kind that gets under your skin—I reach for Jimmie. And I always will.

    If You’re New to Jimmie Vaughan…

    Start with Strange Pleasure. Then go back to the early T-Birds. Then catch him live if you ever get the chance. Trust me—no smoke, no mirrors. Just blues. Pure, proud, and played by one of the best.

    You can find tour dates, music, and more at jimmievaughan.com.

    In a world full of noise, Jimmie Vaughan plays the truth.

    Thank You

    We appreciate your time and dedication to reading our article. For more of the finest blues guitar music, make sure to follow our Facebook page, “I Love Blues Guitar”. We share exceptional selections every day. Thank you once again for your continued support and readership.

  • Mike Zito – I Wouldn’t Treat A Dog (The Way You Treated Me)

    Mike Zito – I Wouldn’t Treat A Dog (The Way You Treated Me)

    Mike Zito: The Blues Guitarist Who Puts Heart and Soul Into Every Note

    Introduction:
    When it comes to modern blues guitar, Mike Zito is a name you need to know. As a guitarist, singer, songwriter, and producer, Zito has become one of the most respected figures on the contemporary blues scene. With his soulful voice, fiery guitar work, and deeply personal songwriting, Zito continues to win over fans around the world.

    In this article, we’ll explore Mike Zito’s journey, his signature sound, and why he’s considered one of today’s top blues guitarists.

    The Early Days: From St. Louis to the Blues World

    Mike Zito was born in St. Louis, Missouri — a city with a rich musical heritage. He started playing guitar as a teenager, influenced by classic blues and rock legends like B.B. King, Stevie Ray Vaughan, and Eric Clapton. Early on, Zito built a reputation as a talented guitarist and performer in the local St. Louis scene.

    But his big breakthrough came when he signed with the prestigious Eclecto Groove label in the late 2000s, releasing albums that showcased his blend of Texas blues, Southern rock, and soulful ballads.

    A Sound That Blends Blues, Rock, and Soul

    Mike Zito’s music is a heartfelt mix of blues, rock, country, and soul. His guitar playing is marked by tasteful phrasing, searing slide work, and explosive solos. As a vocalist, Zito’s voice carries a raw, emotional weight that connects deeply with listeners.

    What makes Zito stand out is his honesty — many of his songs are inspired by his own struggles, including his battle with addiction and his journey to sobriety. This vulnerability gives his music a level of authenticity that resonates with audiences.

    Career Highlights and Albums

    Over his impressive career, Mike Zito has released numerous acclaimed albums, both solo and with bands. Here are a few highlights:

    • “Pearl River” (2009): A career-defining album that won the 2010 Blues Music Award for Song of the Year.
    • “Greyhound” (2011): A raw, autobiographical album reflecting on his personal challenges.
    • “First Class Life” (2018): An uplifting album about redemption and second chances.
    • “Resurrection” (2021): A masterful collection of songs recorded during the pandemic, showcasing Zito’s growth as a songwriter and guitarist.

    He’s also well known for his work with Royal Southern Brotherhood, a supergroup featuring Cyril Neville and Devon Allman.

    Mike Zito Live: A True Blues Experience

    Seeing Mike Zito live is a treat for any blues fan. His shows are packed with powerful guitar work, passionate vocals, and an undeniable connection with the audience. Whether he’s tearing through an electrifying solo or delivering a soulful ballad, Zito brings his heart to every performance.

    Giving Back to the Blues Community

    Mike Zito is not just a performer — he’s also a respected producer who has worked with many blues artists, helping to shape the sound of modern blues. Through his record label, Gulf Coast Records, Zito has been instrumental in supporting emerging artists and keeping the blues alive for future generations.

    Final Thoughts

    Mike Zito is one of the most vital voices in today’s blues world. With his exceptional guitar skills, emotional songwriting, and dedication to the genre, he has earned his place among the best contemporary blues artists.

    If you’re looking to explore his music, start with Resurrection or First Class Life, or better yet — catch him live for an unforgettable night of blues guitar magic.

    Thank You

    We appreciate your time and dedication to reading our article. For more of the finest blues guitar music, make sure to follow our Facebook page, “I Love Blues Guitar”. We share exceptional selections every day. Thank you once again for your continued support and readership.