Amidst all of the ‘discovering’ and whatever else passed for giving musicians their due during the late fifties and early sixties, people started to wonder if ever corner of the country had been turned over in order to find that one last exponent of a lost blues. There were certainly enough folks granted new recording deals during the time to make that wondering seem reality. But there really isn’t ever an end to it all – surely there’re at least two or three fellas sitting around today with some odd stylistic innovation maintained now only through their persistent, hot breath. And maybe there’s no body left that was performing in the ‘20s, but in 1970 there was. And it was with a fervent excitability that a tape reached the doors of Blue Goose Records.

Some Kentucky local had come across a gentleman by the name of Bill Williams, who apparently had a few good stories in addition to his still intact guitar style. With a swift trip to the mail box, though, Williams would soon have the offer to record a few albums in front of him. Considering that fact that these would be the first sessions that he would take part in, Williams remained fanciful throughout the process of getting to those dates. Of course, there was some preliminary interviewing and the like done. And during this process it came out that Blind Blake, at some point during the ‘20s, had hired Williams as an accompanist. The two apparently travelled together for a short time before parting ways, but Williams’ style has at least a tangential tie to his former employer’s. And due to that both Low and Lonesome as well as The Late Bill Williams: Blues, Rags and Ballads were released via Blue Goose in ’70 and ’74 respectively.

That second Blue Goose recording, finds the guitarist and singer in resplendent form. And working with traditional tunes that count at least a few cribbed notes from Mississippi John Hurt in there, Williams set down thirteen insanely crisp country blues tracks whose accuracy and relative fidelity should make the disc one sought after by any bluesnik.

Williams is able to work in a few different styles – the title of the disc thusly reflecting his guitar acumen. At such an age and after working on the railroad for a number of years, Williams’ voice is remarkably supple on these cuts. It does of course waver in and out of tune a bit as evidenced on “Bubblegum,” whose sprightly title belies its lyrical content. But on the instrumentals he turns in, there can be little confusion as to why Blind Blake tapped the performer to tag along on some dates.

Both “Listen To the Mockingbird” and “That's the Human Thing To Do” are vibrant with ragtime tempos and playfulness. This latter piece, perhaps melodically more pleasing, could rival any rag player – on guitar otherwise. It’s not all jaunty workouts as a somber mood can take over some of Williams’ lyrics. But it’s all gravy in the end as this might end up being one of the most revisited discs in any blues collection.