I first heard the name J.B. Lenoir not from a blues documentary or history book—but through a song by John Mayall & the Bluesbreakers. I was in college, constantly digging for hidden gems and forgotten legends, when a friend played a track called “The Death of J.B.

I still remember the first time I heard Charley Patton’s voice—it was on the haunting track “High Water Everywhere.” Strangely enough, my path to Patton began not through an old blues record, but through Bob Dylan. In 2001, Dylan released his critically acclaimed album Love and Theft, which

I can’t remember exactly when I first learned about Lead Belly, but I remember the moment his music hit me. I was in high school when two songs from his catalog found their way to my ears—though not in their original form. One was “Midnight Special,” as covered

Before there was Clapton, before there was the Stones, before the British even thought they had the blues, there was Robert Johnson. John Mayall studied him. Peter Green dissected his licks. Keith Richards called him a genius. And Eric Clapton? He built an altar to him.  What do all these

One of the most harrowing protest songs ever recorded in American music—and the one that has become synonymous with the lynching of Black Americans—is Billie Holiday’s “Strange Fruit,” recorded in 1939. The imagery is brutal, drawn from the sight of Black bodies hanging from trees in the