I bought Charles Caldwell's "Remember Me" this week because it looked cool and because it was released by Fat Possum Records, which also introduced me to R.L. Burnside, Asie Patton and Junior Kimbrough.Caldwell's music is every bit as good as that of his labelmates. This is raw blues played by a man who spent his life working hard at a factory and playing for free drinks at night and on weekends. Caldwell — who died of cancer shortly before "Remember Me," his only album, came out in 2004 — played tough blues with no pretensions.
On "Old Buck," for example, his guitar playing stings like a shotgun blast of rock salt. And his singing has a bite almost as sharp as that of the old coon dog he's singing about. On "Hadn't I Been Good," a simple song about love and betrayal, it sounds like every guitar stroke is shaving off a sliver of Caldwell's heart. The one constant on all the album's songs is a poignant sense of urgency. These are tunes Caldwell had been waiting his whole life to share.
In the liner notes, Caldwell asks Fat Possum Records' Matthew Johnson why it took so long to find him. I'm asking myself the same question. Why'd it take me so long to find a bluesman this great?
