Sean McDonald — Have Mercy!
- rozanski0
- 2 hours ago
- 4 min read
Oh, it’s a vibe alright.
With all the excitement and buzz, Have Mercy! crackles with the energy of a grand opening. Which, in essence, these 37 whirlwind minutes truly are, given this is the raise-the-curtain debut of Sean “Mack” McDonald. (Brought to you by Little Village, the California label that also introduced another young lion of the blues, D.K. Harrell.) So be sure to pay attention to that exclamation point tacked on to the tail of the album title. It is justified. Because the singing guitarist’s go-go-go vibrancy makes good on the whole title, emphatic punctuation and all.
The thrill is on … right from the point of entry. “My Soul”—a jolt of extra-perky rhythm-and-blues from when the one-of-a-kind Rudy Ray Moore captained The Seniors in the late-1950s—greets you at full gallop, already sweated and speeding. In a flash, you’re off, instantly whisked down the road on McDonald’s rushing momentum before ever having the chance to plant your feet. His frantic guitar solo feeds right into the hyperactivity. Even his wingmen—the three Morgan Brothers (aka The Sons of the Soul Revivers)—crest atop the bounce with harmonies yanked airtight. It’s quite the well-played opening move: to commence with an all-day earworm.
Best of luck, though, trying to distinguish which of the nine tracks are truly vintage (like that one) versus brand-new originals given an historic patina (like “Killing Me,” a slow blues spurred by an articulate T-Bone Walker touch).
On the one hand, McDonald’s hungrily roaming ear and sixth sense for sniffing out buried treasure are at play throughout. The combination harvests quite the setlist. That degree of sleuthing is how “Don’t Let the Devil Ride” shows up here wagging its finger. Over its years, the cautionary gospel song has also been swung, slid on sacred steel, holy harped, roughed up, stained blue, starched stiff and even given a soul twist. But Sean’s version instead submerges into the midnight murk, through which his guitar’s watery tremolo swims. The pace strategically drags to maximize moodiness and deepen the trance, nudged along by a relaxed but resolute rhythmic slap. The Morgan Brothers again provide vocal backup, echoing McDonald’s flexible tenor as if they’ve gathered in a clapboard chapel.
On the other hand, equally active are McDonald’s own compositional skills, which reap the stylistic lessons absorbed from all his scholarly postwar, pre-rock archeology. Prime instance: “Shuffleboard Swing,” a highly caffeinated, horn jacketed, instrumental jump blues. Stacked horns hammer the downbeats, when not blowing heat with their solos. The organ freaks out loudly. Blows reign down on the drums. Flurries of clean, single notes begin pouring out freely as Mack’s fingers run a mad dash along the guitar neck, up one side and down the other. The level of hysteria equates to that of a hummingbird zipping around inside a shoebox. In a matter of four fevered minutes, the collaborative commotion burns itself out. T-Bone Walker, the pioneering string dazzler mentioned prior, had to have been all over this one in a 1940s heartbeat.
If only.
Because when the room stops spinning and songwriting credits are checked, the surprise comes in finding that “Shuffleboard Swing” is actually a McDonald original. It’s just been studiously backdated. Or, if you need an example with lyrics, substitute “Angel Baby.” This single track alone warrants that exclamation point on Have Mercy! Pushed to the point of being wild-eyed, the chattering piano, overdriven guitar, and Little Richardesque scream form an adrenaline wave that could just have well been a 1950s contemporary of “That’s All I Need,” another fastball McDonald hurls. Except this one is not his own but borrowed from the playbook of Ike Turner’s Kings Of Rhythm.
So, when McDonald convened a crack horn band in the name of heading back to the future, the studio environment was ripe for “Rocking In the Same Old Boat.” Above all, it is here that the brass section works real wonders. Rather than overt power blasts, the saxes (tenor and baritone) plus trombone carry the weight of the situation, establishing control of the subdued, downturned mood by painting Bobby “Blue” Bland’s soul-blues classic with a fresh coat of glum. Their level of brooding remains stately while Sean, anguished yet coolheaded, works to negotiate a truce within a relationship strained to the brink of snapping. Kid Andersen’s second guitar chips in as well to help cast a pall over one of 1968’s masterpieces of melancholy majesty.
So exactly how old is this crafty time tripper? Technically, 24 years old. But let’s say that counting the candles on his birthday cake is not a fair judge of his musical age, his chops or his grasp of the traditions. Because once the microphone and the amplifier flip on, and it’s time to get down to business, an old soul—who sounds to have been there and done that—takes control, pumping fresh lifeblood into the music. He may have just now debuted, yet “Mack” has been sitting on a powder keg for some time, dating as far back as when his hollow-body Gretsch was nearly as big as was he. He’s been waiting for this moment to erupt.
Need one final piece of proof? Listen to “Let’s Call It a Day.” The ballad is now much warmer, butterier and a lot more burnished than when Lula Reed squeaked out the tune back when R&B was evolving into R&R. The piano solo by Sonny Thompson has also been upgraded here, replaced by a guitar solo. Listen especially to that six-string aria, as McDonald steps away from the microphone, leans back on his heels and peels off an orderly eruption of discrete notes against a backdrop of saxophone. Technique, tone and overall quality are impeccable. Upscale—but with a distinct bite. Good luck catching an immaculate thrill like that nowadays. As they say, Have Mercy!
Label: Little Village
Release date: 10/3/25
Label website: Little Village Foundation
Reviewed by Dennis Rozanski
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