Review Summary: This easily overlooked EP of blues covers was released and largely ignored by Black Keys fans in anticipation of a 2006 LP. A crossroads of lesser-known past and present blues greats, this is worth revisiting repeatedly.
The elusive Dan Auerbach and ever tasteful Patrick Carney must have really wanted to tease some of their less-patient fan base in 2006.
They have the power to move indie kids and rockers alike with their classic blues-garage-rock sound, and everyone knew an album was forthcoming. But "that other blues rock duo" teased us all and opened up 2006 with a non-album in
Chulahoma. It's short, and none of it is original material. In homage to an artist on their own label, the late delta blues legend
Junior Kimbrough, they covered a track list of grooves that prove slower and grittier than the soulful Hendrix act they usually put on.
So by and large,
Chulahoma passed under the radar. After all, a full album of the Keys' own material was already anticipated, and since this had the look of an EP, it was guaranteed to receive less hype and see fewer sales. But hype is passing, and if you get that cash money, all you're gonna do is trade it off for something better anyway.
In truth, this is the work of one of the better blues men of the century that birthed blues, from the part of the country that was its cradle. Kimbrough was a long-time Burnsides collaborator, and was revered by the Keys and other names such as the North Mississippi All Stars, Iggy & the Stooges,
Rolling Stone magazine, writer/producer Robert Palmer and other great bluesmen, most notably Charlie Feathers.
As if that weren't enough, the songs are covered by possibly the best blues rock band of this decade who aren't named after
White Stripes. So this should be recognized as an important release, at least from an academic standpoint, if not simply because the music kicks -
ahem - donkey. The album itself plays beautifully, evoking a more atmospheric, bucolic sound than the Keys usually play. As perhaps the best approval Auerbach and Carney could have received, the record ends in the form of a voice mail from Kimbrough's widow. She affirms their accomplishment, stating they're the "only ones" capable of playing this album like her husband would have played it. All in all,
Chulahoma, named after Kimbrough's hometown, is not just a great music release. It's a unique piece of American music history.
