John Lee Hooker • Alone: Live at Hunter College 1976

Tomato/BMG Music 870770
Two 180-gram LPs
1989/2023

Music

Sound

by Vance Hiner | August 22, 2023

hen John Lee Hooker was 14, he ran away from his Tutwiler, Mississippi, home to find fame and fortune on Beale Street in Memphis. That was in 1926, and the world did not greet him with open arms. As Hooker struggled to eat and keep a roof over his head through street performances and side hustles, the great stock market crash soon made things worse. It would’ve been hard to imagine then that, four decades later, Hooker would be on a stage at New York City’s Hunter College, holding a small audience of mostly white, privileged college students in rapt attention with nothing more than his voice and electric guitar.

The magnitude of that history and its poignancy permeate the performance captured on Alone: Live at Hunter College 1976. At 64, Hooker had wracked up a number of hit records, toured dozens of countries around the world and been showered with accolades from rock 'n' roll royalty. In a tender aside early in the performance, Hooker tells the audience how pleased he is just to relax and show everyone what he can do with no one else calling the shots. It’s a powerful moment and one of many that occur throughout this stripped-down and intimate concert.

The two-record album begins with the evening’s first set. A master class in pacing, these initial tracks are taken real slow. Hooker pushes his voice from deep-chested shouts back down to mere whispers as he weaves a tapestry of pain (“Dark Room’), loneliness (“I Miss You”) and outright mayhem (“Jesse James”). By the time the rollicking chorus of “One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer” begins, the audience is nestled closely in the palm of this wizened magician’s hand.

When Hooker returns for his second set, he assumes a more philosophical voice, spending considerable time speaking directly to the audience in what might be best described as a professorial tone. It’s evident that Hooker is in a contemplative mood as he earnestly schools his young audience about everything from existentialism (“Some People”) to making amends (“Baby, Please Don’t Go”). During the album’s home stretch, a young man in the audience has the audacity to begin playing his harmonica with Hooker. Instead of responding with a withering put-down, the Mississippi Master gracefully compliments his enthusiasm, invites the audience to applaud the pup’s efforts and engages in a playful call-and-response with him on guitar. It’s moments like these that gave audiences a more complete picture of Hooker as a human being as well as a consummate showman.

According to Discogs, the original vinyl release of this record in 1989 was limited to sale in the Netherlands. While I don’t have a copy of that version, this BMG release does compare favorably in sonic terms with the Qobuz 16-bit/44.1kHz and Tidal MQA 16-bit/44.1kHz streams. After adjusting for volume differences, I was unable to point to a significant sonic difference between this LP reissue and those digital sources. I suspect that the slight midrange warmth I heard on the BMG vinyl was more a function of my Koetsu Black Gold Line cartridge than any differences in the digital files versus the GZ Media vinyl remastering. Such a close comparison also highlighted just how quiet and flat the review copy was.

While there are more dynamic, higher-quality recordings of Hooker’s live performances (Festival International DeJazz, Antibes 1969 and Live at Cafe au Go-Go), few others I’ve heard manage to convey the tenderness and vulnerability captured on this cold February night nearly a half-century ago. Kudos to those responsible for making this riveting time capsule available for another generation of blues fans and vinyl collectors.

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