The last few years of his life Robert Lockwood, Jr. spent in Cleveland, Oh working a weekly gig at an over priced restaurant down the way from where I lived. For whatever reason, I continuously put off going to see him play. And eventually, the opportunity was gone. He passed away in 2006 leaving a legacy behind him that encompassed being a student of Robert Johnson, being the co-host of King Biscuit Flower Hour and migrating to Chicago to become one of the main components of the electric style that emerged from that city while playing in the band of Little Walter and cutting some of the most entertaining music to come out of that scene.

So apart from my hometown investment in proclaiming Lockwood a much underrated and ignored figure in the development of the blues, I delved into a record that sports ten tracks from him as well as ten from a guy named Johnny Shines. Each player – on these dates at least, as Lockwood was capable of playing pretty much any kind of music needed or called for – traffics in a different style of blues. Lockwood moves around in some pretty traditional ‘50s fare while Shines keeps to an older, more rural take on the medium. The playing of the former can’t be said to be slight, but this was obviously not the pinnacle of his recording career. And while that might be the case for Shines as well, the fervor related on these tracks surpasses Lockwood pretty easily.

Shines too, though, had a tie to they mythical figure of Robert Johnson. Where Lockwood came to know the guitarist as a result of a relationship that his mother and the guitarist had, Shines took to the road, travelling through backwoods hollers and playing a primitive music that still sounds alive today. It can’t be figured who learned from who – and considering the fact that Johnson acquired his skill after a bit of playing or devilish dealing, the sequence of events can’t really be solidified at this late date. But from listening to Shines on a few tracks, there is a bit of similarity.

The album opener, “Ramblin’,” probably sounds the oldest as it focuses on a simple beat and a gutsy slide guitar line. The track can’t be figured as some continuation of Johnson’s style, but a more than supple take on a pre war blues style.

The other tracks offered range in quality – in fidelity as well as just plain entertainment value – but Shines easily displays what allowed him and Lockwood to tour during the ‘70s as the remaining country blues legends. It’s unfortunate that he never received his due. And even if Lockwood is a relatively unknown player, Shines’ anonymity easily trumps his. And in this date of constant reissues, it would make sense to see a full reworking from Shines, whose catalog apparently includes a number of dates from his foray into Chicago that haven’t ever been released. That might not ever occur, but if that’s the case, it’ll only make the few sides of his that around all more special.