This article was originally published in French and has been translated by Jacques Dulac. Original French
Voir (Montreal), February 1993
By Claude Côté
S.O.S. Fantomes
With his forth visit in two years and a very convincing second album, John Campbell has been able to live with his demons and ghosts, his principal inspiration. “I’m at peace with death. I’ve been very near of death … in a traffic accident. Disfigured, I stayed a long time at home during my recovery practicing without rest and listening to Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters and company. I realised that I would live the life of a the bluesman.”
Campbell is about to realise one of the most striking acts the blues scene has seen in years: A perfect dose of influences and innovations. The man really enjoys talking about a past that warrants his image as an austere and mysterious bluesman. He says: “I bought Lightnin’ Hopkins guitar in 1982. An old rusted National Steel. You know, a fortune teller one day told me that I would take possession of an important musical heritage. I was in Houston and I knew nothing about this guitar. But, I’ve been guided by destiny.”
A great technician, Campbell uses a percussive technique that resembles the one Bukka White used – it is based on a lot on resonance. And we want more. Questioned about the difference between his blues and the one of his idols, he answers: “Those guys, Hopkins, Johnson and the others used to tell their life’s stories. My inspiration comes from my life in general. I play each concert like it was the last.” Discovered at the Lone Star Café in New York (“I lived in Brooklyn, right next to a Subway. To practice decently, I had to get myself an amplifier, if I wanted to hear myself…”), Campbell is not out of job these days. He has a 230 show tour across North America and Europe, most of them with the great Buddy Guy. And, he has a new album, Howlin Mercy, on Elektra that is composed mostly of original pieces that don’t lie about his intentions. It extirpates the dark side of his personality and juggles like a mad scientist thoughts of good and evil.
His version of Down in the hole of Tom Waits is unique. As bonus, there is a Hoodoo ceremony with coyotes skulls, eagles feathers, bones and rattlesnake noises… Did I tell you that our man comes from Louisiana?
For the rest, Howlin Mercy (produced by the ex-Canned Heat and Lowell Fulson bass player, Dennis Walker) is a blend of unforeseeable acoustic and electric blues on the edge of the ravine. Drink at your own risk.
Copyright 1993 Voir