Chicago-based singer/songwriter Terry Blade crafts a consumingly atmospheric blues sound on his latest album Chicago Kinfolk: The Juke Joint Blues, intertwining the past and present with its infusions of archived interviews, original songwriting, and tributes to past greats. Specifically, the album pays tribute to past trailblazers in Chicago’s blues scene, both in the form of public domain samples and gripping blues songs.
“Nothin’ But the Blues” opens with a consuming historical throwback, infusing interview excerpts with debonair harmonica, bluesy piano, and acoustic strums. The interviewee is blues legend Theresa McLaurin Needham, who owned the famous blues club Theresa’s Tavern in Chicago. “In fact, just about all of them has been through here,” she mentions at one point, referring to the variety of blues legends that performed at her esteemed locale. Needham, who passed away in 1992, endures as a noted figure in blues history and the album is commendable in showcasing her role right away — demonstrating how the blues community is bolstered by the community itself, from patrons to club owners, in addition to the fantastic musicians themselves.
Terry Blade’s presence comes into fuller form on the ensuing “Gettin’ Tired of You,” featuring his vocals and instrumentation. Taking inspiration from Harlem crime boss Madame Stephanie St. Clair, sweltering guitars and expressive vocals let out an impassioned push — “Yeah mama, some day you gonna pay,” — within a delectably swampy blues fervor. A 1977 interview with Muddy Waters Jr. comes next, wherein descriptions of the blues — and its overall feeling — proves apt within. “The blues is the type of thing that you got to feel,” he says. “Tell ‘Em” follows in exuding that special blues entrancement, melding compelling instrumentation with lyrical laments on the criminal justice system’s oppressive biases.
In addition to Blade’s riveting own songwriting, his cover of Arthur “Big Boy” Crudup’s “That’s All Right” also stands out with its smoky vocal reassurances and twangy guitar tones. It’s also a stellar reminder of the track’s origins; Elvis Presley recorded it as his debut single in 1956, and Crudup was credited as the composer, though never received any royalties. Chicago Kinfolk: The Juke Joint Blues continues to showcase under-appreciated blues legends in tactful form, here and throughout. A 1977 interview with Chicago blues musician Willie Monroe arrives thereafter, emphasizing the role of loved ones within blues songwriting.
Album finale “Fallen Sons” is a suitable follow-up to that interview, urging to “Bow your heads / For your son,” with solemn vocal entrancement. Pit-pattering percussion and bass-heavy intrigue combine with enthralling immersion, as the “draw your gun,” reference evokes modern-day gun violence, and the resulting tragedies that arrive amongst those aforementioned loved ones. It’s a moving, impactful send-off to an album that captivates in its bluesy reverence for both past greats and blues’ role in modern-day plights.
