CHAMPION JACK DUPREE Blues
From The Gutter (Doxy)
Champion
Jack Dupree’s kind of blues is, as the title of this, his 1958 debut album,
might suggest, rough and raucous, the sort of style you might suppose arises
from years spent trying to be heard over the noise of a juke joint being reduced
to smashed glass and firewood around him. The song titles neatly summarise his
mainly medical or medicinal concerns – “T.B. Blues”, “Can’t Kick The Habit”,
“Junker’s Blues”, “Bad Blood” – although he puts enough of himself into “Frankie
& Johnny” and “Stack-O-Lee” to feel justified in claiming authorship. This music
is rough, sickly and battered, but it can still rouse itself for the occasional
spin around the sawdust-coated dancefloor such as “Nasty Boogie”. Ennis Lowery’s
stinging electric guitar work sounds like it’s out on parole – and apparently
influenced the young Brian Jones – whilst Dupree himself plays barrelhouse piano
in an emphatic manner, almost like his style is descended from that of silent
movie accompanists.
The mysterious Doxy Music
seem to have built a catalogue almost entirely on 50+-year-old recordings that
have fallen into the public domain, pressing them on 180 grams of
wind-tunnel-quiet grams of “HQ virgin vinyl”. I have mixed feelings about this.
On the one hand, there’s very little chance that their reissues have been hewn
from anything so quaintly old-fashioned as a master tape, and consequently their
sound quality ranges from barely acceptable (the record under discussion) to
wretched (their reissue of “Here’s Little Richard” that I can probably be found
whingeing about elsewhere in this issue). On the other hand, although I’d rather
be giving my money to a company that might actually do right by these historic
recordings, the sad fact is that original label Atlantic have absolutely no
interest in selling me a shiny new vinyl issue of “Blues From The Gutter”, which
rather leaves the field open to anyone who can be bothered.