Candice Ivory: When The Levee Breaks: The Music Of Memphis Minnie

Candice Ivory is more than a little ambitious to conceive and execute an album comprised wholly of material by blues icon Memphis Minnie. But to her credit, she has been quite resourceful in enlisting some formidable resources in the effort: guitarist/bassist Charlie Hunter serves as a player and the album producer, the latter role he also filled on the album of the steel guitarist here DaShawn Hickman.

Needless to say, camaraderie abounds throughout the dozen cuts, beginning with a flourish on "Me And My Chauffeur." Percussion from Brevan Hampden and Atiba Rorie digs a groove deepened by Hunter, over which Hickman tosses tantalizing curls of notes. The Minnie tune covered (and duly credited) by Led Zeppelin is wisely the second track and continues in the earthy realm of the opener: the multi-track vocals of Ivory conjure a ghostly atmosphere by contrast with the use of just a single voice on the refrain.

Drummer George Sluppick's presence on the anthemic "You Can't Rule Me" recalls his redoubtable stability for the initial incarnation of the The Chris Robinson Brotherhood. He is straight ahead with his kit on this cut, meshing smoothly with the rest of the band and especially so with his rhythm partners, not the least of whom is Hunter when he injects some of his mobile bass work into the mix. Fully arranged for an ensemble, that number is well-positioned as an extension of the more skeletal opening.

That track also serves as a complement to the acoustic textures of "When You Love Me." Ivory's history in a choir featuring future R&B star D'Angelo stands her in good stead as she really cuts loose with her voice here; nevertheless, she sings with more than a little nuance and thereby clearly communicates the humorous symbolism of "Blues Everywhere."

In performing with such apparent effortlessness, in tandem with her kindred spirit accompanists, Candice Ivory nevertheless posits herself as a figure of staunch independence and forthrightness comparable to the source of her inspiration. The clarity of the Benjy Johnson recordings (subsequently mastered at Lurssen) are a direct reflection of that indomitable stance.

The punchy audio throughout this forty-six minutes might belie the vintage tenor of the songs. Ultimately, however, it's indicative of how timeless is the appeal of the blues, whether in the form of the nonchalant saucy strut of "World of Trouble" or the elastic reggae bounce of "New Bumble Bee."