Louisiana Red – Sittin’ Here Wonderin’ (Earwig)

There’s a particular scene from the too-little-seen The Woman Chaser, a film based on Charles Willeford’s pulp novel of the same name, that periodically pops into my head. In it the story’s protagonist, a sociopathic used car salesman turned movie director, hires a young blues guitarist to score his fledgling film. His one directive: “I want you to play as loud & mean as you can.” I’m always on safari for this sort of thing- music played by guys (and occasionally, gals) who take the Modern label sides of John Lee Hooker and Lightnin’ Hopkins as their templates for frying fuses and blowing amps, tone and attitude trumping finesse and technique. Luckily there are many that fit the bill, from pioneers like Hop Wilson and Slim Green to more recent purveyors represented by much of the Fat Possum roster. Louisiana Red also belongs among the anointed and this album from ’82 originally waxed for the B.O.B. label revels in a stripped-down, speaker-imploding sound. Red plugs in and unceremoniously plays eleven tracks, sometimes pausing for anecdotal asides, but generally sticking to the task of keeping the needles angled well into the red. The slashing opener “E Street Bridge” sets the bar for intensity, a single excoriating chord scalding the mics with acidic electricity. Crank the volume dial and the effect cements into an all-enveloping auditory ring. Red’s vocals aren’t particularly fetching or inspired, scarred by the dual pipes-eroding agents of liquor and cigarettes, but they do the trick. Besides it’s the tone and feel that matters most here. “Sadie Lee” and “Back Door Friend” are all broken glass strums and barbwire string shredding, millionth-something missives aimed at enterprising two-timing women. Thankfully, Red reels back the ugly misogyny that pollutes some of his earlier work (see his tune “First Degree” on the Tomato label for a bitter taste of that fetid fruit) and turns in a tight little record, heavy on jangling primitive riffs and free of the feel-good sentiments that pass for the blues in friendlier, less socially-crippled circles.