Being counted as one of Bob Dylan's favorite blues players, Lightnin' Hopkins devoted a life time of playing to his off kilter, singular way of perusing blues music. Meeting and leading Blind 'Lemon' Jefferson around Hopkins had an early exposure to the medium. And the fact that his uncle was a player as well served to ground him further in the genre. During the '20s while learning and trailing some guitarists around, Hopkins eventually wound up in jail. But after his stint there, he returned to the music and began making a name for himself - although not really through recordings.

There doesn't seem to be much in the way of Hopkins' sessions from prior to the '50s. So during the '40s it could be assumed that he gigged around while not being snapped up by producers and the like. During the very end of the '40s and early portion of the next decade, Hopkins cut a few sides - occasionally accompanied by pianist Wilson 'Thunder' Smith - but didn't gain any sort of notoriety as a result. The guitarist, though, continued on until '59 when the momentum was being gathered that would push folk and blues players into the spotlight. And as a result of all of that, Hopkins was afforded the opportunity to cut a few sides with Folkways.

While that self titled disc - which I couldn't hunt down - is supposed to find Hopkins at his most fiery, reeling off standards with abandon, it sounds as if on most any date, the guitarist is able to whip up an emotive fervor unlike too many others during the revival. To get these tracks down, apparently, a man named Sam Charters had to bribe Hopkins with a bottle of liquor. Using only a single mic, the two sat in Hopkins' flat and had a drink. And while that disc might not have been the single best selling disc of his rebirth, it seemed to have done alright while gaining a bit of mystique about it.

But what that disc and the others there were cut during the late '50s and early '60s display so readily is the fact that no matter what situation Hopkins was in, he was able to evoke emotion in something akin to a sad sack manner. While generally referred to as a country player, Hopkins frequently recorded with an electric guitar and even on occasion with a band. In listening to either Hopkins alone or with a group, though, it becomes clear that whatever external sense of time that others perceive isn't inside of this player. It's been written before that Hopkins, while playing a coffee house in Houston performed in front of a soon to be ZZ Top guitarist, who remarked that his elder wasn't aware of where the changes were supposed to come. The Hopkins' response went something like, "Lightnin' change when Lightnin' want to."

That can't be argued. But to some, Hopkins might be more appealing with an acoustic guitar in hand while others might enjoy the sound of the country meeting the city. Either way, those are some good tunes.