The Blues And Me (1973-1976)

We Say...

Review by Lenny Kaye

"Guitar" is his middle nickname, and a guitarist's guitarist is he. Mickey Baker's clean blues-inflected riffs and responsive chordings underpin many of the songs that provided the transition from rhythm and blues to rock and roll, and as a session player, he was an in-demand part of the house bands of Atlantic and Savoy Records, among many others in the early 1950s, his pungent embellishments heard behind such hits as Big Joe Turner's "Shake, Rattle and Roll" and the Clovers' "Money Honey."

He likes to say he did it for the money. Baker had attempted to follow in Charlie Parker's footsteps in New York when he led a small combo in 1949, but even after relocating to California, found it hard to acquire progressive be-bop work. Then one day he saw bluesman Pee Wee Crayton getting into a white Cadillac, and "so I started bending strings." His jazz chops probably helped him transition to the studio — the jump blues that slid out of big bands like Louis Jordan's and Wynonie Harris were a primary template for early rock — and he might've happily remained behind the scenes, knowing that his guitar alone would not make him a star in his own right. But taking a cue from Les Paul's partnership with Mary Ford, he found himself a femme singer named Sylvia Robinson, and in 1957, with her sultry contralto and his sinuous guitar licks, had a Top Ten pop hit called "Love Is Strange."

Baker moved to France in the 1960s, and recorded this album a few years later, his tribute to the "bending strings" that earned him his reputation, and an influence stream that runs from Steve Cropper to Robert Quine. It's fairly straightforward run-throughs of the classic I-IV-V progression, Mickey's voice at the forefront and his guitar darting in and out with perennial riffs that have been honed in jukejoints and late night jam sessions. Highlights include "Blues After Hours," "Battle of the Guitars," and Baker's own well-burnished persona, his unerring feel for the guitar neck, the stroke of the fret, the moan that the amplifier makes as a result of his caress.