...since th' 'rediscovery' o' th'blues back in those long gone hazeedaze o' six oh times its been like a mission to certain parties to clean it up one way or 'nother...sanitizin it by endless sqeaky clean recordin until th'essential lifeblood has all but disappeared...lookin in a store sellin blues records these daze aint worth th'effort cos it gonna be th'same ol faces gradually light'nin th'sound until its transparent...no rough edge recordin, no spur o' th'moment hit'n miss riffin, no nothin to make it excitin...just deadly dull from th'getgo till it ends, one completely predictable yawn...apologists say its cos there aint no hard times no more, brotha, these cats lookin in th'wrong direction with heavy lead blinkers cos theres hard times everywhere knockin cats back every minit...well there is hope here'n there'n cats like t-model got their finger on some pulse beat cos this biskit recorded in 97 is gotta be some o' th'most hotcha rent party rakkit this side o' yesterday...cats gotta dig t's bluesman credentials to know this is th'real deal...when this was laid down he thinx he was aged 75 ('n him'n his drummer play 8hour gigs at saturday nite jooks when he feels inclined to boooogee), was ploughin fields when he was 11'n got mixed up in some dang'rous bizniz'n done some time on a chaingang in later years...cats diggin th'attakk rakkit o' tommy mcclennan/howlin wolf/edgar broughton/don van vliet/stackwaddy need look no further cos its all here piled up high 'n ready to roll...a magnificent peice o' grist that he can be mytee proud o'...