(When I finished this, the tears were streaming down my face. “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long (To Stop Now)” is a tornado waiting to be heard.)
Come Into The Blues
E.G. Kight (Blue South Records)
Don’t tell me that lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same place: I’ve got E.G. Kight in the CD player and there’s a bulls-eye on my chest. Everything on this disc is blue as can be—even her Fender guitar and denim outfit—and the music grabs your soul and shakes it as fiercely as a pit bull.
My gosh, does this lady rock! Just be sure to check your hat at the door, because you won’t be leaving soon—there’s some accounts due and guess who is holding the check? Not E.G: Get out of the way, she says, it’s time for “loving a brand-new man,” she’s gonna be “Somewhere in Atlanta,” and don’t you dare even try to make amends. The horns chatter away like gossiping jaybirds in agreement, and I’ll guess that someone’s using a fish fillet knife on slide to create those ripping squeals. Follow that with a saxophone solo by Elbert Durham that scorches and torches everything in sight, and E.G. is long gone—and you can just get back on that train, ‘cause someone ain’t treating her with justice. There’s not one ounce of remorse, because she testifies that it’s time to “Unlove You,” and although her heart is breaking into a thousand pieces, that aching sax and smoky vocals just won’t give you another chance. No way!
Anyone who thinks he could win over E.G. had better bring some big boots to fill. Can’t get the job done? She knows it now, and tells you so: “I Broke a Heart” (which I know now was her own, too), and a woman scorned is as friendly as a diamondback rattlesnake with a case of sunburn. Two mistakes don’t take her off the playing field, and there’s some hot slide being served from the pitcher’s mound, throwing strikes for her team. Take your bat off your shoulder, mister, and turn in the uniform, because your love is just “Skin Deep,” and it’s a long walk back home. However, she’s found her home-run man, and it takes her five days to get primped and proper for “Lovin’ on the Weekend.” Here’s that rascal on slide again—he’s obviously the clutch performer she’s been needing, and the rest of the band keeps an all-star scorecard.
With the sun setting and the crowd gone home, E.G. has found true love and thrills. It’s a natural thing, and she can now say, “At Last,” it’s time to slow-dance with a Patsy Cline-like smooth vocal and soaring hopes—and hold her close. How sure is she? She’s smokin’ the racetrack, and now she’s got “Fuel to Burn.” Rev up that guitar—I mean, engine: The NASCAR circuit would be wise to host E.G and her band if they want to see some real action. There’s new meaning to the phrase, “mechanic on duty,” folks, when E.G. pulls in for a pit stop.
She just can’t shake those blues, though—the hurt is hard to ignore, and “Bits and Pieces” of that ill-fated love affair are everywhere. Is she moved? Like a woman should be, especially since “Nobody Ever Touched Me There,” and she means to the roots of her soul. E.G. will cut you loose one last time, and with a melody that jitters and jukes with a strong hint of the Beatles’ “Money (That’s What I Want),” a free woman makes one last stand for her independence and declares, “I Don’t Care No More.” Just light a candle, though, because you need to know: “I’ve Been Lovin’ You Too Long (To Stop Now).” With a rising, spiraling vocal to take her prayer aloft, approaching stormclouds brew as the horns, percussion, and B-3 give wings to her words. Those aren’t raindrops falling, they’re tears, and they could make a river overflow. That brings it to a close, but there’s no denying that love lost is a heavy price to pay. Just bare your soul and let her show you why she shares that same burden—they make movies from songs like this. And when E.G Kight is feeling it this strong, that’s why you need to Come Into the Blues.
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