Voices crying in the wilderness are nothing new in the blues, just ask former expatriates Luther Allison or Eddie C. Campbell, until recently prophets without honor in their own land.  That sad fact duly noted, it's still absurd that Barry Levenson, a monster blues talent (and photogenic young white man to boot), had to issue this outstanding album himself.

Levenson handles all the songwriting and guitar work on Heart to Hand and brings in Mary Williams, Finis Tasby and Johnny Dyer for one vocal each.  The rest of the disc is strictly instrumental blues, but even guitar-tired listeners will be astounded by his palette of tone and technique.  Levenson is probably closest to Ronnie Earl in his controlled yet emotional approach to the guitar:  Both guitarists make the most of the instrument (Stratocasters exclusively here, by the sound) by paying strict attention to touch and taste.  One item in both players' trick bags is picking at different points on the string to achieve different tones without changing pickup selection.  Levenson's other pet device, seamlessly integrated into several numbers, is volume-knob swells.

Levenson shares too with Earl an encyclopedic knowledge of blues idioms and a noticeable jazz inflection to some numbers, but his approach to blues on Heart to Hand is far more traditional than is Earl's these days.  Instead of mellow Wes Montgomery soundscapes, Levenson's detours head for bluesy bop (the breakneck "Earl's Ride"), the big-band blues (check the guitar solo on "Slippin' Down," which moves through Buddy Guy's style to something jazzier and turns up the heat until Levenson's playing a "Sweet Sixteen" B.B. King-styled chorus), Texas ("Royal Albert" nails Collins' funky introductions and his attack, fingerboard slurs and tone; "Whole Lotta Blues" recalls the chunky rhythm of "Cold Shot" and SRV's multiple string-bend soloing) and smoky '60's soul ("Blue Stew").

"Steel Life" opens with Delta slide before transmuting to a moody piece reminiscent of Peter Green's Fleetwood Mac (think "Albatross").  Mostly Levenson stays solidly on the Chicago turf of Otis Rush and Buddy Guy.  The opener, "Cobra Days/Blue Tears," begins as a driving shuffle ornamented by chorus upon chorus of perfectly conceived phrases, melodic bends and rapid-fire picking, then shifts to a cousin of "Double Trouble." "West Side Rain," another slow minor blues, pulls out all the stops with agonized note flurries, bridge picking, volume swells and crying bends.

The opening bars of "The Late Show" and Guy's "A Man and the Blues" are almost identical in tone, notes and phrasing.  Levenson can afford to make nods this obvious; the endless inventiveness he displays elsewhere makes clear that this is tribute, not theft.  The disc is cleanly recorded but still as live as you'll find (amp noise is present on at least two tracks but in no way mars them).  Obviously a labor of love, Heart to Hand is all killer, no filler -- an important debut full of emotional intensity.

Tom Hyslop
Blues Revue Magazine