'The Skinny'

Upon first listen, you would never guess that Ian Siegal is British. From start to finish, the album is deeply seated in the American blues tradition. Despite hailing from southern England, Siegal wouldn’t seem remotely out of place playing in the trucker bar from The Blues Brothers. You know -- the one where they play both kinds of music.

Siegal lists his biggest influences as Muddy Waters, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Howlin’ Wolf, and it rings through in his breed of story-telling blues, especially on tracks like the nearly 8-minute epic “Hound Dog in the Manger.” Siegal plays expressive solos that, while nothing new to blues, are well-defined and imaginative in their own right. The Skinny features all of the staples of electric blues, from spacious, wandering bass lines to the wah-soaked guitar on “Stud Spider.” Fans of Stevie Ray Vaughn will find a lot to enjoy on this album, especially when verses and choruses fade away into jams that sometimes span half the length of a track.

What sets Siegal apart from his contemporaries, then, is his voice. He has a gravely howl that sometimes suggests what Tom Waits would sound like minus ten cartons of cigarettes and twenty years of steady boozing. Siegal doesn’t possess Waits’ range, but the frantic drumming and call-and-response chorus of “Devil’s in the Detail” certainly calls to mind songs like Small Change’s “Pasties and a G-String.”

The heavy American sound of the album is likely thanks to its origins in North Mississippi. Producer Cody Dickinson, best known for his work with the North Mississippi Allstars, recorded the album at his home studio, Zebra Ranch. The studio, which was built by his father, relies on low-fi recording technology to produce a distinct sound that is typically lost in the modern era of Pro Tools and high compression. The album boasts a surprisingly clean and crisp sound, and employs a wide variety of guitar and drum sounds. The record has a distinctly open sound, especially on the acoustic “Carry’s Nite Out.” The song serves as a perfect example of the personality that a wide-open recording room can lend to a track, and it actually feels as if Siegal is having a late-night, solo jam session in the Mississippi hills.

What The Skinny lacks, then, is any characteristic to truly set it apart from the countless other blues bands Mississippi has produced. Certain songs stand out, like the entertaining “Hopper (Blues for Dennis),” but the album as a whole is indistinguishable from Siegal’s contemporaries. While it doesn’t redefine blues, The Skinny offers a solid take on the Mississippi sound that should introduce Siegal to a few new listeners outside his native England.