North Jersey Blues Society

This Wayback Machine—set for New York City, 1978—drops you off inside The Bottom Line at the most opportune time: right as the deep-blue funk begins flying.

Now it is official: Please welcome Young Rell into the blues fold on the strength of his self-titled, long-play debut, Young Rell.

Four cement steps beneath 4801 S. Indiana Avenue, on the South Side of Chicago, an underground magnet operated.

Once a boneshaker, always a boneshaker.

Eliza Neals doesn’t ease into Thunder In The House — she kicks the door open.

There is a problem. A major problem.

It was a Tuesday. Much like any other Tuesday in Hackensack, New Jersey, in 1956.

All that is needed is an acoustic guitar and a heart full of strife.

Soul to Soul airdrops you into Accra, Ghana, a couple of days before the 14-hour concert kicks off.

During a temporary lull in an 18-minute public evisceration of “Have You Ever Loved a Woman?,” a deep voice booms into the centerstage microphone: “This is the blues … I’m a bluesman and I’ve got a blues band.” Sounds simple enough. But by that evening on October 10, 1975, such a humble statement of fact seemed like a massive understatement of the legend standing before everyone.

Many a high-profile project has been seared by Rick Vito’s bottlenecking.

Were you there at the traveling guitar event of ’75?

Heavy weighs the blues.

Prior to Blast Off!, here’s a quick pre-flight checklist to run through.

Oh, it’s a vibe alright.

Jimmy Burns is a Chicago bluesman with a secret prior life. Soul Message Band are four of the city’s coolest cats, whose burbling 400-pound enforcer is not so secret. Unite them, and their combined mysteries unlock over the course of 50 mentholated minutes.

Hear them once—and Ladysmith Black Mambazo will stick with you forever. The a cappella Zulu godsend is assuredly that indelible.

That’s shredding, Sonny Boy-style.

With My Mississippi Roots, James “JB” Barnes delivers a record that feels less like a collection of songs and more like a living testament to heritage, hard truth, and the staying power of the blues.

Humble Pie never needed training wheels to get rolling. The supergroup, with the play-it-down name, hit the ground rocketing, right from the jump in January of 1969.