NICK DERISO: John Lee Hooker, a hypnotically transfixing figure in the blues, made a series of money- and headline-making splashes beginning in 1989 by collaborating with younger artists, beginning with his celebrated record “The Healer.”
That one, for instance, included turns with Carlos Santana, Bonnie Raitt, the Rolling Stones’ Keith Richards, Johnnie Johnson, Los Lobos, Robert Cray, George Thorogood and Charlie Musselwhite, among others.
Truth is, though, that Hooker had begun inviting the kids over nearly two decades earlier with the release of “Never Get Out of These Blues Alive” — a terrific effort that even includes, on the title track, Van Morrison. Hooker memorably recorded a 1993 remake of “Gloria” that shames the original by the Them, then subsequently did an entire Grammy-award winning recording with Morrison, “Don’t Look Back” in 1997.
Unlike those later, sometimes prefab duets, however, this early 1970s piece has everything to do with John Lee Hooker, rather than playing to some preconceived notion of selling albums. “Never Get Out” feels gritty and organic, like a record that Hooker wanted to make with some new friends.
Musselwhite is here, too, offering fresh insight during harmonica turns on “Hit the Road” and on “Country Boy,” which also features slide guitar by Elvin Bishop and organ from Steve Miller. Jazz violinist Michael White is bluesy and true on “Boogie With the Hook” (which might have been a terrific album title, too) and “T.B. Sheets.” Bishop provides a key element to the title cut, as well.
Recorded over two days in September 1971 in San Francisco, the album features a principal backing band with Gino Skaggs on Fender bass, Ken Swank on drums and son Robert Hooker on keyboards.
I’m still struck by a forlorn-looking John Lee, in the clearly ironic cover image, sitting on an LA transit bus under a sign that reads: “NO DANCIN’.” Well, yes, and no. Save for the “T.B. Sheets,” a shattering requiem, this is more often a driving, upbeat offering — even if Hooker’s low rumble can’t help but give it great portent.
Hooker, who died in his sleep a decade after his induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1991, was the definition (as the Who’s Pete Townsend once rightly philosophized) of the power chord. Also, a foot-stamping percussion instrument all to himself.
He played in a droning style that belied his Delta roots, something more in keeping with north Mississippi descendants like Junior Kimbrough, but still worked within the familiar syntax of boogie-woogie.
That led to an shambling soulfulness: Sometimes, even at this late date, the meter is off. The lyrics and the guitar licks don’t fit right, don’t rhyme. It doesn’t matter. That’s what made Hooker great, a hard axe to follow.
Sure, John Lee Hooker didn’t get out of these blues alive. But this album, a lost treasure, shows why his legacy will go on.
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