(Friends said to me, “Do you know what you sound you’d like doing to her?” Damn right I do—but Barbara was very pleased with this. She told me so. Yes she did…very pleased. I know which side of the bread the butter goes…)
Sell My Jewelry
Barbara Blue (Big Blue Records)
The most impressive thing to see when you’re in Memphis is…the Mississippi River, right? Not even close—the tides and currents, they say, slow down, when Barbara Blue is on stage and doing a number. The lady may sing the blues, and some wicked funk, too; be warned, though, because she’s more infrared, and liable to make the Greenhouse Effect look like an afterthought on the thermometer. Barbara may say she’s blue, but I don’t know if there’s a measurement yet for this musical heat on the spectrum.
This is a new voice—one that would make that ol’ river go back for a second look—she commands, demands, and gets attention. It’s the kind of effect a vixen named Circe did for twelve months to a wandering sailor named Ulysses. She wove some potent spells, that woman. In another similar way, if friend and heartbreak E.G. Kight has the pipes of a brass horn, then Barbara is alongside with an alto saxophone for vocal cords, and you will follow her beckon and call. Why? Same as E.G. did: here’s another one who’s “Trouble with a Capital ‘T’”. Oh, Lord, this should have been a signal that I was about to beg for mercy, and Mike Finnegan’s chilling B-3 acts as Barbara’s high priest to draw you to your knees. That’s the Texacali Horns who weave and sway behind her (Joe Sublett and Darrell Leonard), and there’s no choice but to obey Barbara’s wishes. Joe sneers and jeers at your fate, but Barbara holds the power to be pleased: you can’t get away, and she’s also “Back by Popular Demand.” Those three snake charmers who serve their mistress so effectively are Larry Fulcher on bass, working alongside Tony Braunagal’s rhythmic drumming, and Johnny Lee Schell’s weaving guitar.
What would she bid you to do? She has the “Tool Box Blues,” (although I think she’s not worried about it). ‘Just stick around, baby, you’ve got something in your tool box (that turns her love light on) and you might come in handy some time.’ No need to guess what her workbench is, brother, and you’re gonna be changing more than oil. Yes, that’s the grease gun in your hands, but not from the hardware store. But see here: as I said, the woman knows what she wants; she’s for real and down-to-earth, and the diamond solitaire on this disc comes from the sweetest chords you can find when Barbara and her men roll out the carpet for “Don’t Lead Me On.” This is what it’s all about: she’s got a heart of 24-carat, and that’s worth a royal ransom. Power and beauty do have a match, and despite all the worries and fears of losing herself, staying true (and blue) to Barbara could be the finest thing a man could find.
So now you’re committed and hooked, and there is something sweeter than sugar coming when Barbara gets over her “Road Blues.” You can sway and grind because she’s got you in that magic spell, and John “Juke” Logan’s harmonica wails like a pet songbird that has just seen the light of a new dawn in the window. Maybe that’s you on the perch, looking for favors, and if Barbara’s going places, so is her main squeeze, because she “Can’t Get Your Lovin’ Off My Mind.” Accessories are one thing, but love is a commodity, and the self-titled Memphis Queen has her expectations—and fulfillment is a noble priority. There are more dangerous things to do than disappoint her (with a CD like this, honoring her sensuous decrees will become the next Olympic Extreme Sport event).
Barbara has some spiritual musical guardians watching over her, and you don’t mess with the vamp and sermon of John Lee Hooker, who must be smiling down on this earthly messenger. Taking a mosaic look at the Hook’s titles in a throbbing molten lecture, “From the Delta to the Golden Gates” drills deep into the heart of the blues master’s soul in tribute and love. She’s also more than capable of handling any tomcattin,’ and I pity the fool who instigated the angry manhunt and threats from “Cheatin’ Blues.” You need some serious insurance to double-down in love on a woman with more tattoos on her arm than you have. She’s still a romantic in spite of all the wounds, and there’s a “Drunken Angel” in the picture. Staggering, twisting organ and a gorgeous ballad tune are the medicine Barbara needs. So, since she’s feeling alive again, it’s because she’s been “Brought Together By the Blues,” and Honey and Rod Piazza have penned a magical recipe for her. Just in case that doesn’t keep ‘em crawling back for more, Godmother Janis Joplin will cast down the judgment of “Turtle Blues,” and Barbara won’t turn the other cheek. If anything, she’s ready to sock you on the jaw.
So when they say, what are the great sights out west, there are monuments, statues, natural resources, and other wonders—but none of them sing. And none of them are as magnificent as this woman, who deserves, earns, and offers a package of value that has a price tag worn in her heart. Just think: she would sell her jewels for your love at www.barbarablue.com—and she’s one helluva glittering gem herself. She’ll wear you with pride, too, and that’s why blue is going to be your favorite color. Barbara’s gonna tell you so.
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