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You might say that Eli Cook is at a crossroads.
Recently, his solo CD, Miss Blues’ Child, has been picking up steam. The album, recorded in a single session in October 2005, is being distributed internationally through New York-based Valley Entertainment, and has gotten looks from allmusic.com, which lauded Cook’s “deep voice that sounds as old as the hills.”
| Take a listen to Curbstomp by Eli Cook:
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Indeed, Miss Blues shows why Cook was an easy choice to open for B.B. King at the Paramount in February. Where some younger—not to mention, white—blues singers might hesitate deferentially before launching into those dirty Delta riffs, Cook makes himself right at home on songs like “Terraplane Blues,” serving the style-over-substance Jonny Langs of the blues world their eviction notices. He throws in some originals and choice traditional numbers, including the tender “Irene.” The music’s soulful heritage is accented by harmonies and banjo accompaniment from Cook’s Greene County pal Patrick McCrowell on songs like “Baby What You Want Me to Do.”
What happens when you combine Son House, Black Sabbath and Kurt Cobain’s hair? Listen to Eli Cook’s hype-gathering records and find out.
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Yet for those who have marveled in Cook’s raw talent since he was a scrawny teenager playing at the late Garden of Sheba, the album wants something the young bluesman (now in his early 20s) has always been in need of: direction. Cook gives passable Robert Johnson and Son House impersonations throughout, but never manages to find his own idiom in Miss Blues. All that changes on his most recent album, ElectricHolyFireWater.
Released last January, EHFW can be jarring for the unprepared. (Pop it in when running late for an early-morning conference in Richmond and you’re guaranteed to get there wide awake and in record time.) With a power trio that features Bella Morte alum Jordan Marchini and Big Fast Car’s Eric Yates, Cook pursues a sound that could only be described as “blues” the way Led Zeppelin (on fast numbers like “Shotgun Blues”) or Everlast (on slower songs like “Roll On”) might.
The band’s ability to weave between metal and pure rock influences, as in Cook’s faithful rendition of Hendrix’s “Castles Made of Sand,” is both impressive and refreshing. The harder genre even takes care of some of the weaker qualities of Miss Blues—notably, Cook’s tendency to slur lyrics like a drunken Sylvester Stallone. The production quality also seems improved, though both were laid down at Richmond’s esteemed Sound of Music Studios.
Overall, the two albums provide wonderful complements to one another. If Cook wants to maintain his blues cred and stick to his roots, Miss Blues will keep the backdoor open. If, however, he wants a shot at the big time, EHFW could anoint him the next spiritual leader of the local metal scene.
