Footsteps


When I first heard Leadbelly I was hooked, tracking down others with names that read like poetry, Son House, Lightning Hopkins, Blind Lemon, Muddy, Wolf and the king, just plain Johnson, playing like the devil.


Trying to master bottleneck, just the right amount of vibrato, playing Death Letter Blues to a crowd of farmers or Dust My Broom in the market square in Morlaix, those Delta sounds have kept me company.


And in the silence of the night when Skip’s keening voice cuts through the room, or Elmore’s slide howls in the dark, something inside me feels like coming home.


Joseph Allen


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