Winter Blues . . .

Right after I moved to Fargo, I discovered an excellent used vinyl store off of 1st Ave. N called the Vinyl Connection (sadly, now defunct). I happened to be browsing the store one Saturday afternoon, after a nice bloody mary at the OB, when the owner of the store slipped on Second Winter by Johnny Winter. "Mind if I crank this up?", he asked, noticing that I had been grooving to the opening track Memory Pain. "Not at all - let 'er buck," I replied, and went about my business carousing the $1.99 section.

About three songs into the operation, I went up to the counter and asked to buy the copy that was playing on the turntable. "Good stuff, ain't it," the owner said, pleased with his salesmanship. I think I flipped $5.99 for the album, which was a total steal at that price - the vinyl was pristine, and the jacket near mint. I brought it home, and proceeded to have my mind blown by Johnny's searing slide guitar and electrifying blues-rock licks. Having been an SRV fan for a much longer time, the similarity of styles was all too obvious. There was no question in my mind that a young Stevie Ray had spun this very album back in the day, perhaps marveling at the primal guitar savagery that was, and still is, Johnny Winter's calling card.

I was recently sorting through my vinyl, and once again came across this LP. Reading the liner notes, Johnny explains how the album came to be a (3-sided) double album - a rather unique feat in the day. "We had enough stuff for one album, and planned to edit out what we didn't like. As it turned out, we liked everything, and didn't want to cut any material - so here it is . . . all three sides." And interestingly enough, the fourth side of the LP is totally blank. Knowing what little I know about record companies, I don't anticipate that many artists were good enough to slide one like this through the corporate wickets. So, one must assume that there was, in fact, a person with a brain at the record label; someone who thankfully realized, "You're right Johnny - all of this stuff kicks ass; let's release everything." Divine intervention . . . perhaps.

Now on the subject of Winter's playing, I'd originally planned on writing a few lines myself on what I thought his music represented. Then I came across a short piece that was so eloquently written, so absolutely on-the-money, that anything I could say could only be construed as walking in the shadows. So, courtesy of of the late Mr. Buddy Blue, as written in his San Diego Union-Tribune column Blue Notes, I give you his take on the guitar stylings of "Whitest Black Man" ever . . . Mr. Johnny Winter:

"The deal with Winter's guitarsmanship is that on top of his dazzling speed, soulfulness and technical wizardry, his sound is so demonic, so malevolent that you imagine it emanates from the death-stinking talons of Satan himself. Winter's riffs twist and coil their way into your orifices like venomous serpents seeking shelter from the light; they bite and slash and constrict your innards; they defile your bloodstream and mesmerize your brain with a noxious brew of seconal, strychnine and cheap whiskey, ultimately leaving one an exhausted husk from the effects of some dark, unspeakable power. In this regard, I liken Winter to a modern incarnation of Robert Johnson, the only other guitar player whose work sounds similarly haunted, hell-spawned."

Pure poetry. Anyway, enough of my ramblings. Here's a link to a You.Tube clip that features Johnny doing a face-melting, slide-infused version of Bob Dylan's hit Highway 61. And if that doesn't impress, how about a jaw-dropping, nine minute guitar tour de force featuring the Clapton / Bluesbreaker's standard Hideaway ? WARNING: You may want to have a fire extinguisher nearby in case your computer spontaneously bursts into flames. Enjoy - - J.