Jamiah Rogers & Dirty Chxrch — Chicago Cowboy
When Jamiah Rogers walked into Chicago’s Delmark Riverside Studio, his pulse had to have been ticking away like a time bomb. The guitarist arrived with an audacious plan that, when sonically detonated with the assist of his two-man Dirty Chxrch, would halt listeners in their tracks. This was to be a new beginning; something to shock the system. This is indeed a different Jamiah Rogers than the one last heard emerging as 2017’s Blues Superman.
The gloves come off within the opening microseconds of Chicago Cowboy.
In that instant, “Mojo Man” changes everything. Rogers plays the heaviest axe he’s ever played up to this recorded point, spewing out mad molecules with jagged edges that condense into gnashing chords or get strung out in rat-a-tat-tat barrages. The amplifier is overrun, hanging sustained distortion in the air to meld with the bronze haze lifting off drummer Tyvon “Tank” Rice’s cymbals. As momentum gathers, Isaiah “Zay” Horne’s bass shoves in, and keeps on shoving.
Once speed takes over, the song comes into view. It’s the frantically zooming stepchild of “I’m Your Hoochie Coochie Man” that is pure (new) Jamiah. His go-for-it attitude bites down hard on the strings. His voice is no less scripted when snapping out lines with raw impulse. It would be hard to imagine multiple takes were made—or certainly wanted. Why round off the edges? Why chase the tamed ideal when pure feel is roaring right in front of you?
Batten the hatches: 11 more tracks await.
But even if you are not within earshot, the cover art alone snitches that change is afoot. Contrast the motionless pose struck on Superman versus Cowboy’s uncontrollable energy. Visually, that wildness gets conveyed—statically, silently—without issuing one single, screaming note. But just know that the music inside doubles down on what you see in that black-and-white photograph on the outside.
The renovation, however, does not sacrifice a smidgeon of the now 31-year-old’s soul or funk. Those elements remain intact, coming through loud and clear, starting with “Sacrifice” and “On And On,” respectively. “Tell Me What It Is” speaks from the heart. “I Know You Gotta Go” speaks from two, once vocalist Amyna Pearson joins at the mic. It’s just that the Stratocaster’s vigorous scratching shrugs off any chance for satiny smoothness. Add to that the sense of Jamiah’s cut-loose, raring-to-go energy is always boiling just a centimeter beneath the surface. A more delicate touch is brought to the torched-love ballad “I Still Wonder.” But a more delicate touch is a relative term for Rogers, particularly once the solo arrives. Then again, Jimi Hendrix had “The Wind Cries Mary” and Stevie Ray Vaughan, “Life Without You.”
The calmer eye of the hurricane only lasts so long, however.
Hellacious winds whip back up to announce the all-hear-this centerpiece, “Chicago Cowboy.” It weighs heavy, rocks fiercely and consumes megawatts. So much so, in fact, that the chest-thumping lyrics about being a maverick nearly get gobbled up by the overwhelmingly electrified storm swirling around. By the time the guitar gets its say in the spotlight, the coda arrives. Announced by a doom-laden, pile-driving beat, this open space grants a second string-bending outlet for venting—right down to that final dive-bombed note. In-person, this one must shake the shack.
Rogers wrote this whole project, aside from two bonus—but essential—tracks which bring the hour’s song-count up to 12. “Leave My Girl Alone” is a welcomed straight-up blues taken at the kind of slow-motion pace that a howling Buddy Guy originally ascribed in 1965, and then 24 years later, by a growling Stevie Ray Vaughan. The threat of violence still stands for those disobeying the narrator’s ultimatum to back off. But Jamiah brings his own firepower to the fight. Here, he thins out his tone and cleans up his attack during a moment so hushed, so still, that you could hear a pin drop. The brooding milks the tension in slow-blues fashion.
Then, that major moonshot note gets launched at the midway point—and we’re greeted by the roaring Rogers we’ve come to know. The floodgates open, releasing a torrent of shrapnel runs along the neck, more rocketing string bends and overall artistic havoc. The performance eats the most clock of the set, devouring a bit less than six minutes.
Rogers more than knows his way around a fretboard. By this point, that is clear. Many times over. Yet a final parting shot piles on to cement that case: a memorable revival of Ray Charles’ “What’d I Say.” Freddie King and Hound Dog Taylor once took a crack. Each distinguished itself from the 1959 soul original: Texas sting versus a Chicago brawl, as per their signature styles. Jamiah keeps the piece with him in Chicago, his hometown. There, Dirty Chxrch overhauled it with a vengeance.
Gone is the twinkle of Brother Ray’s Wurlitzer electric piano as well as that sexual push-and-pull when crossing the song’s vocal bridge with his Raelettes via a series of escalating ummmmhs and unnnnhs. Rogers opts for molten mayhem, approximating the effect of a fuzz bomb going off. Jimi would have grinningly approved.
Label: Delmark
Release date: 9/18/26
Label website: Delmark Records.com
Reviewed by Dennis Rozanski
Comments