By Rosalind Cummings-Yeates
GARY AND WILLIE
Gary Clark Jr
A
t 35-year-old, Gary Clark Jr. has
firmly announced that he’s not
staying inside anybody’s boxes
and that he, like his music, is multi-dimen-
sional. On his startling new album, This
Land (Warner Bros) Gary tears down all
preconceived notions and establishes him-
self overall as an ambitious artist. The
CD’s title track, an unexpected sonic shot
at racism and rage at this country’s contin-
ued injustices toward black people, imme-
diately grabbed attention. Using hip hop
delivery and a throbbing beat over wailing
guitar riffs, he charges, “paranoid and
pissed off/now that I got the money/fifty
18 illinoisentertainer.com march 2019
Trump country/I told you ‘there goes the
neighborhood’/now mister Williams ain’t
so funny/I see you looking out your win-
dow/can’t wait to call the police on me."
His fury whips through the song and boils
over as he spits out the chorus “F-ck
you/I’m America’s son/this is where I
come from/this land is mine.”
The video for the song, which features
confederate flags, nooses hanging from
trees and Gary playing his guitar on the
steps of a plantation house, paints an
unflinching picture of what he’s angry
about. The musician explained that the
song was inspired by a confrontation with
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owned his ranch, with Gary’s 3-year-old
son watching the angry exchange. The sit-
uation followed the toxic climate of the
2016 elections, which stirred up Gary’s
memories of the rampant racism of his
Texas childhood. He poured out his pent
up anger, expressing how it feels to be
black in a country that constantly ques-
tions your humanity.
Based on the Woody Guthrie folk clas-
sic ‘This Land Is Your Land,” This Land
caught listeners off guard with a sound
and attitude that fans had never seen from
“this generation’s guitar/blues hero.” But
Gary clearly demonstrates with an album
that touches on soul, funk, punk, hip hop,
reggae, rock, and blues, that he is so much
more than that narrow label.
“What About Us” continues the discus-
sion, announcing that “young bloods takin
over/ just plan on movin over” with a
funk/rock groove. Prince is a big influence
on Clark and echoes of this can be heard
on the soul-drenched chords and falsetto
crooning of “I Walk Alone.” But before we
can adjust to this sound, reggae layered
with heavy guitar riffs unfolds on the
danceable “Feeling Like A Million.” A bit
of 80s punk rock pops up on “Gotta Get
Into Something,” and shades of Curtis
Mayfield are revealed on the soul anthem,
“Feed The Babies,” where he addresses
social problems with the lyrics; “what do
you call the struggle/when the cycle is
complete/what do you call the strug-
gle/when we’re all just looking to eat.”
Is there an overabundance of styles and
messages on this 17-track album? Yes. Do
they all work? No. But that’s beside the
point. Gary Clark Jr. has stretched and
challenged himself as well as his fans in
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commentary and a big melting pot of
musical influences showcase who he real-
ly is and how he really feels, which is a sig-
nificant part of being an effective artist. He
plays several other instruments on this
album besides guitar, including drums,
keyboards, and bass and he still manages
to serve up a few familiar treats like the
scorching guitar instrumental “Highway
71” and a comforting country blues finale
with “Dirty Dish Blues.” Gary Clark Jr.
may not be his generation’s blues savior,
but he is an excellent musician, which is
enough to ensure that the genre and all
others are safe with him.
Classic Chicago blues is alive and well
in the able hands of Willie Buck. The
Mississippi bluesman has been perform-
ing all over the South and West Sides since
the mid-50s and shows no signs of slowing
down. His new album, Willie Buck Way
(Delmark) delivers 12 originals with two
exciting Muddy Waters’ covers to add to
the solid mix. Opening with the high ener-
gy “You Want Me To Trust You,” he sets
the scene for a good bluesy time. “Can’t
Say Something Good About Me” sounds
like a night of smokey, hip-shaking at a
South Side blues joint, complete with a
heartfelt spoken word ending and “My
Mind Froze Up” squeezes out all the
melancholy of a difficult relationship with
a searing harp solo by Mervyn
“Harmonica” Hinds. The standout is the
sizzling Muddy Waters cover, “Please
Have Mercy," which has Willie calling up
all the smooth bravado required of a
bluesman. With a crack backing band
including
Bob Stroger on bass, Billy
Flynn on guitar, Johnny Iguana on piano
and Jimmi Mayes on drums, this is a can’t
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