Floyd Jones & Eddie Taylor - Masters of Modern Blues (1994)

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Floyd Jones & Eddie Taylor - Masters of Modern Blues (1994)

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Eight priceless 1966 tracks by tragically underrecorded guitarist Floyd Jones are paired for this CD with eight more by sessionmate Eddie Taylor. Produced in both cases by Testament boss Pete Welding with Big Walter Horton on harp, pianist Otis Spann, and drummer Fred Below lending their collective hands, Jones re-creates his dour, uncompromising "Dark Road," "Hard Times," and "Stockyard Blues" with an early-'50s sense of purpose.–by Bill Dahl

1. Rising Wind 3:21 [Floyd Jones]
2. Dark Road 3:37 [Floyd Jones]_Play_
3. Stockyard Blues 3:56 [Floyd Jones]
4. Sweet Talkin' Woman 3:28 [Floyd Jones]
5. Train Fare Home 2:48 [Eddie Taylor]
6. Big Town Playboy 2:30 [Eddie Taylor]_Play_
7. Peach Tree Blues 2:39 [Eddie Taylor]
8. Bad Boy 2:58 [Eddie Taylor]
9. Hard Times 3:53 [Floyd Jones]
10. M&O Blues 2:52 [Floyd Jones]
11. Playhouse Blues 3:32 [Floyd Jones]_Play_
12. Dark Road 3:29 [Floyd Jones]
13. Feel So Bad 3:34 [Eddie Taylor]
14. After Hours 2:37 [Eddie Taylor]_Play_
15. Take Your Hand Down 3:06 [Eddie Taylor]
16. Bad Boy 1:59 [Eddie Taylor]

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Floyd Jones & Eddie Taylor - Masters of Modern Blues (1994)

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FLOYD JONES BIO: His sound characteristically dark and gloomy, guitarist Floyd Jones contributed a handful of genuine classics to the Chicago blues idiom during the late '40s and early '50s, notably the foreboding "Dark Road" and "Hard Times."Born in Arkansas, Jones grew up in the blues-fertile Mississippi Delta (where he picked up the guitar in his teens). He came to Chicago in the mid-'40s, working for tips on Maxwell Street with his cousin Moody Jones and Baby Face Leroy Foster and playing local clubs on a regular basis. Floyd was right there when the postwar "Chicago blues" movement first took flight, recording with harpist Snooky Pryor for Marvel in 1947; pianist Sunnyland Slim for Tempo Tone the next year (where he cut "Hard Times"), JOB and Chess in 1952-53, and Vee-Jay in 1955 (where he weighed in with a typically downcast "Ain't Times Hard").Jones remained active on the Chicago scene until shortly before his 1989 death, although electric bass had long since replaced the guitar as his main axe. He participated in Earwig Records' Old Friends sessions in 1979, sharing a studio with longtime cohorts Sunnyland Slim, Honeyboy Edwards, Big Walter Horton, and Kansas City Red.–by Bill Dahl

EDDIE TAYLOR BIO: When you're talking about the patented Jimmy Reed laconic shuffle sound, you're talking about Eddie Taylor just as much as Reed himself. Taylor was the glue that kept Reed's lowdown grooves from falling into serious disrepair. His rock-steady rhythm guitar powered the great majority of Reed's Vee-Jay sides during the 1950s and early '60s, and he even found time to wax a few classic sides of his own for Vee-Jay during the mid-'50s.Eddie Taylor was as versatile a blues guitarist as anyone could ever hope to encounter. His style was deeply rooted in Delta tradition, but he could snap off a modern funk-tinged groove just as convincingly as a straight shuffle. Taylor witnessed Delta immortals Robert Johnson and Charley Patton as a lad, taking up the guitar himself in 1936 and teaching the basics of the instrument to his childhood pal Reed. After a stop in Memphis, he hit Chicago in 1949, falling in with harpist Snooky Pryor, guitarist Floyd Jones, and – you guessed it – his old homey Reed.From Jimmy Reed's second Vee-Jay date in 1953 on, Eddie Taylor was right there to help Reed through the rough spots. Taylor's own Vee-Jay debut came in 1955 with the immortal "Bad Boy" (Reed returning the favor on harp). Taylor's second Vee-Jay single coupled two more classics, "Ride 'Em on Down" and "Big Town Playboy," and his last two platters for the firm, "You'll Always Have a Home" and "I'm Gonna Love You," were similarly inspired. But Taylor's records didn't sell in the quantities that Reed's did, so he was largely relegated to the role of sideman (he recorded behind John Lee Hooker, John Brim, Elmore James, Snooky Pryor, and many more during the '50s) until his 1972 set for Advent, I Feel So Bad, made it abundantly clear that this quiet, unassuming guitarist didn't have to play second fiddle to anyone. When he died in 1985, he left a void on the Chicago circuit that remains apparent even now. They just don't make 'em like Eddie Taylor anymore.–by Bill Dahl