Carrie Smith, When You’re Down and Out
Track after track of quintessential blues by a forgotten singer.
That Carrie Smith isn't universally regarded as a top-notch blues singer is one of the high crimes and misdemeanors of the music world. Smith, who as of 2008 was 67 and living in a New Jersey nursing home, had some success singing gospel and playing Bessie Smith in the Broadway production of Satchmo, but is otherwise obscure except over in Europe. This 1977 recording lays bare the lunacy of that circumstance by providing song after song of quintessential blues, especially the first two tracks. “Confessin'the Blues” demonstrates Smith's immaculate control of the emotional throttle as she confesses, cajoles, beseeches and only belatedly belts out the blues with a slightly burred growl. “Country Man” could have just been a goofy novelty, but listen to the way Smith passionately slings the tributary lines, “Every morning, he's right behind the plow/ Every evening, he stops to milk the cow/ Every night, he loves, oooh how he loves me” and see if you can sit still. There's also a nice example of Smith's gospel chops (“On Revival Day”) and indigo balladry (“I Want a Little Boy,” “Trouble in Mind”).
Credit also belongs to the ace quintet backing Smith, none of the five household names but each with copious resumes and a near-sacred knowledge of what wrinkles beautify the timeless blues tradition. Tenor saxophonist George Kelly has the stentorian tone and catchy cadence of sage orator; pianist Ram Ramirez bears the tinkly, brittle tonality and jaunty élan of a saloon mainstay playing the upright; and guitarist Billy Butler blends the tasty restraint of Wes Montgomery with the electric liquidity of Tal Farlow. As for the rhythm section, listen to them hump the pace along like John Henry laying steel on “It Won't Be Long.”
Ironically, the most disposable songs here are the two renditions of “Nobody Wants You When You're Down And Out,” that refer back to the album's title. They're nicely understated laments but without the visceral wallop of better versions (find teenager Stevie Winwood's take with the Spencer Davis Group).
