Ramblin' Thomas is the picture of blues player’s biographies. He was raised in the deep south, the board of Louisana and Texas to be exact, he came from a large and musically inclined family and subsequently rambled around the country. Well, that last part seems to be disputed even given the man’s nick name. But the guitarist and sibling to the better known Jesse ‘Babyface’ Thomas apparently performed in and around some southern states. “Lock And Key Blues” even opens with the lines “I feel like ramblin’/Ramblin’ stays on my mind/I ain’t satisfied unless I’m ramblin’ all the time.”

Some critics and scholars have speculated that based upon the assumed influence of Lonnie Johnson, a player suited to blues, jazz and folk, that Thomas may have gone as far a field as St. Louis to catch a glimpse of his hero. Maybe or maybe not. But the result of Thomas’ life, ramblin’ or not, is splayed out over the course of a few different compilation albums.

As one would be advised, deferring to the Document Records’ Ramblin' Thomas & The Dallas Blues Singers is as wise as any other move. Rounded up back in 1992, counts twenty five cuts clocking in at just over an hour and a quarter. The unwieldy discography that Thomas created and recorded for any number of imprints, though, doesn’t sport a wealth of diversity in its lyrical concerns. Even the songs that seem to be about work or women wind up moving back towards the idea of not being able to lead a sedentary life-style. It might be the work or the ladies that move around on occasion instead of Thomas, but it all results in the same end: this guy didn’t always have the warmth of luck shining down upon him from on high.

What’s interesting about the amassed catalog of this player, who really could just as easily be lost to time without anyone really noticing, is his approach to guitar. After looking through a catalog with his brothers, Ramblin’ Thomas secured a guitar via mail order. The package arrived and presented the soon to be player a slide.

Taking the instrument and its accoutrements, Thomas developed into a standard slide player. To differentiate himself, or perhaps, just as a result of figuring it all out for himself, he developed an odd rhythmic device in some of his compositions. Thomas’ approach to guitar and open space in his compositions is best displayed on the album’s opening number, “So Lonesome.”

The song begins as any other - a sort of prehistoric version of Chuck Berry beginning a performance. But immediately after Thomas’ warm up is concluded, his instrument gives pause as the vocals kick up. With his singing taking to the forefront of the song, it allows Thomas to occasionally insert some rumbling, single string passages that serve to extricate his catalog from run of the mill blues work.

That approach crops up here and there during the rest of the disc, but not frequently enough to rank this Thomas too high on lists of indispensible blues players.