Hound Dog Taylor – Beware Of The Dog (1976) 24-bit 96khz vinyl rip

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Hound Dog Taylor – Beware Of The Dog (1976) 24-bit 96khz vinyl rip

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Released posthumously, this live album was in the works well before Taylor’s death–it’s a celebration, not an exploitation. There’s no real gain in spontaneity–how could there be? But for those who like their blues on the hot side, it’s where to start. A- [Robert Christgau]

Although I love to attend live shows, I am not the kind who digs live albums that much. I prefer when listening to music at home to hear the original studio recordings of a song. With that said, Beware Of The Dog, Hound Dog Taylor’s live album, is a rare exception to that rule for me. It’s not only my favorite live album, but one of my favorite albums period. [[url=http://www.keno.org/hound_dog_taylor/bewareofthedog.htm]Keno]

It is no small mark of Hound Dog Taylor’s talent that the South Side of Chicago supported him through a long career devoid of hits. His music was intended for audiences who came to get rid of their blues and have a good time.

This album was recorded live and shows Taylor to best advantage. Mixing originals with standards, he rocks and rolls with command, displaying an exciting slide-guitar style. Drawing from contemporaries, he adapts a John Lee Hooker riff on “Let’s Get Funky” and injects the Detroit boogie with Chicago funk; the result is pure smoke. He breathes life back into Elmore James’s “Dust My Broom,” which has been overrecorded by people who never played in clubs with ten-foot ceilings and two-foot stages.

“Give Me Back My Wig” is Taylor’s most widely known song, driven by a backbeat which suffers not at all from the lack of a bass player (he and Brewer Phillips share bass as well as lead chores, and with Ted Harvey on drums, they carve out a new definition of “power trio”). And the lyrics convey Taylor’s warmth and droll sense of humor.

The slow blues here are very moving. “Freddie’s Blues,” written for his wife, is accented by the sparse, direct flavor of his slide work. The mood is dark and poignant—quiet but not silent.

Hound Dog died in December, but this isn’t a “memorial” album; it is “state of the art” Saturday night club music—a natural for partying, drinking and talking loud. Taylor’s legacy of good times and deep blues will stand long after disco is in the ground. (RS 217) [DAVID LEISHMAN]