“Music also lets me express feelings that I might not be comfortable talking about in an ordinary conversation. Sometimes you have things inside you that are difficult to explain. Singing about those feelings gives me a way to get them out.”Reverend Raven: Way Back Home“Way Back Home” (2026), the first album in nine long years from Reverend Raven & The Chain Smokin' Altar Boys, brings all the fire and then some. The second album in Rik Raven's canon with longtime co-conspirator Westside Andy on harp - and, for the first time, playing with the Rev on every track - Way Back Home celebrates 30 years of throwing down some of the finest blues the midwest (or anywhere, for that matter!) has to offer. It's a collection of requested fan favorites from their decades of live shows, none of which have made it onto studio recordings until now. "For years now," Raven explains, "people would be buying CDs at our shows and asking 'what record is that song on?' Originally, this was just going to be an album meant to be sold at shows, but it morphed into something else entirely." The addition of special guest Altar Boy Dennis Wade on keys to the core quartet of Raven, Andy, PT Pedersen (bass) and Craig Panosh (drums), sends everything into overdrive and makes this record, arguably, the band's crowning achievement.(Photo: Reverend Raven & Westside Andy with The Chain Smokin' Altar Boys)“Once Dennis wanted to be on it, we realized we had to do this right and see what happens. What's nice is we've been playing for so long we can just go in and know what's going to happen. We get in one room, the baffles go up, and we just lock it in." Across nine covers and two originals, Raven and Andy are the perfect foil for each other. There's an unconscious synergy between the two, as they trade leads, that elevates everyone's game and lets the music flow with a tight looseness few bands can achieve. Interview by Michael Limnios                  Archive: Reverend Raven, 2018 interviewSpecial Thanks: Larry Kay (Night Train PR)It’s been nine years since your last album, yet Way Back Home sounds less like a comeback and more like the band picking up where it left off. What kept the fire burning during those nine years?Our last CD, My Life, was supposed to be our 20th-anniversary record, although we ended up doing it a year late. For the nine years since then, we’ve just kept playing, touring, and doing four or five shows a week. Over that time, the band has really grown together. We’ve gotten incredibly tight and developed a confidence and musical shorthand that you only get from playing together night after night. We’re still pushing each other, still trying new things, and the band has more momentum now than it did when we made the last record.The rhythm section is solid as a rock, so Andy and I can lean into each other, trade ideas, and take chances without worrying about what’s underneath us. There’s a lot of room for improvising, and the whole thing has a natural, loose feel to it, but it’s still tight enough that we can turn on a dime when we need to. That’s really become the sound of this band.We’re a band of brothers. We’re adults, we’re friends, and there aren’t any hidden agendas. We look out for each other, and everybody has a stake in what we’re doing. When we decided to make Way Back Home, we were able to pick up where we’d left off and record songs we’d been playing for years but had never put on a CD.Our engineer, Steve Hamilton, at Sausage Factory Music Studios, put us in a room with baffles and let us play together the way we do on stage. We could play the songs as we would at a show, then fix a flat vocal note or a badly mangled guitar line if we needed to. We kept that kind of repair to a minimum.We also financed the record ourselves and split the expenses and, hopefully, the profits four ways. That’s different from my last several CDs, where I was the one putting the record out and paying the musicians. This is a real band record—not just a Reverend Raven record with some guys playing on it. It’s our record: four guys who have been playing together for years, taking what we’ve built on the road and putting it down on a record. That’s what Way Back Home means to me.After 30 years of doing this, I think we’ve finally reached the point where we don’t have to think about being a band—we just are one.“Music also lets me express feelings that I might not be comfortable talking about in an ordinary conversation. Sometimes you have things inside you that are difficult to explain. Singing about those feelings gives me a way to get them out.” (Photo: Reverend Raven & Westside Andy with The Chain Smokin' Altar Boys)The new album “Way Back Home” began as a collection of songs fans kept asking you to record. What does it mean when people remember specific songs and want them on a record?When I’m on stage playing or singing one of my originals and I see people singing the words back to me, it’s very gratifying. During breaks, people come up to the merchandise table and say something like, “That song you played in the first set—the third song—is that on a CD?” Sometimes they’ll hum it for me, and I’ll say, “Oh, yeah, that’s one we haven’t recorded yet.”These are songs we’ve played for years. They don’t necessarily fit into a particular theme or set order the way songs might on a conceptual album. They’re just songs that became part of what we do.That’s really what Way Back Home is. We finally got some of those songs down on record that people had been asking us for. It’s a nice feeling when the audience tells you what it wants to hear and you actually get the chance to give it to them.We had fun making this record, the fans get to take these songs home, and now we’ve got a whole new batch of songs to work on for the next one.You’re celebrating 30 years of Reverend Raven & the Chain Smokin’ Altar Boys. What has changed the most, and what has stayed the same?A lot has changed over 30 years, but the important things have stayed the same. We still want to play our asses off, make people dance, and give them a good time. We want people to go home smiling and feeling like they got something out of the night.I started the band as a side project while I was playing with the Blues Disciples in Milwaukee. I wanted to play full time after I got out of the Navy, and Madison Slim needed work when he wasn’t on the road with Jimmy Rogers. That was the beginning. Slim had been part of a legendary blues band, and he was a terrific singer and frontman. I learned a lot from playing behind him.One of the great memories from that period was a show at Blues on Grand in Des Moines. We drove through a blizzard to get there. The club called to ask if we wanted to cancel because Bernard Allison’s band was stuck in the snow and they were going to offer us that band’s slot. We said no—we were coming. There were about 280 people in a club that held 240, and they had come to see Madison Slim. I didn’t even know the show had been recorded. The soundman, Lee, had a new setup and later sent me a disc while I was on the road. My wife called and said, “You’re really going to like this.” That became Live at Blues on Grand, one of my favorite CDs.Over the years we’ve had some wonderful musicians come through the band. After Slim, there was Cadillac Pete, who played on Slow Burn and Live at the Kalamazoo Blues Festival. Then Benny Rickun came along after Jim Liban turned me on to him. Benny was an intuitive, soulful harmonica player, and he brought a different kind of feeling to the band. He played on Big Bee, My Life, Live at the Red Rocket, and Live at the Big Bull Falls Blues Festival.Big Al Groth brought a great old-school saxophone sound—honk and growl—and a tremendous amount of excitement to our live shows. When he left, I wondered how I was going to replace that energy. Then I got lucky with Westside Andy. He brought that same kind of flair on harmonica, with his own originality and an ability to make the instrument sound almost like a saxophone.We’ve also had some great piano players. Mickey Larson had played with Sam Lay, and Chuck Might led the local band the Bluescasters. Danny “Pork Chop” Moore was a Jerry Lee Lewis fan and a terrific blues pianist. He brought that Otis Spann kind of feel to the band and was featured on Shake Your Boogie, Live at the Red Rocket, Live at the Big Bull Falls Blues Festival, and My Life. One night, after he got a standing ovation during the second song, he leaned over the piano and said to me, “Top that, old man.” I didn’t even try. [Laughs.]Later, Dennis Wage came back to Wisconsin after Delbert McClinton retired. Dennis had been Delbert’s keyboard player and had played on a Grammy-winning album with him. He’s on Way Back Home.P.T. Pedersen has been with me for about 22 years. He’s played with Charlie Musselwhite, Jim Liban, Luther Tucker, and Fenton Robinson, among others. He’s a rock-solid bass player, and Craig Panosh is a great drummer. Together, they give Andy and me a foundation that lets us play freely. We’ve also been fortunate to have our roadie, James, who is a gift from heaven. He helps with the equipment and the merchandise, and he’s become an important part of the operation.What’s changed? We’ve all got more gray hair, and a lot of the people in the audience have gray hair, too. We’re playing for people who have been coming to see us for decades. In Florida, sometimes the first 50 people in the room are wearing our band T-shirts—or Packers shirts.What hasn’t changed is that we still care about the music and about each other. We’re a band of brothers. If somebody’s in the hospital or needs help, the rest of us pick up the slack, even if that means humping the equipment. I came out of the Navy, so I sometimes think of us as a finely tuned squadron. We listen to each other, we complement what the other guy is doing, and we know when to step forward and when to get out of the way.After 30 years, the passion is still there. We want to play great music, make people happy, and keep doing this as long as we can.“What I like to do is imagine how one of the musicians I grew up listening to might approach the song differently. How would Albert Collins play a Slim Harpo tune? How would Albert King approach “Got Love If You Want It” as a rumba? What might Freddie King, B.B. King, Magic Sam, or Jimmy Rogers do with it? Those guys had their own ways of interpreting music. They weren’t simply copying somebody else’s record.” (Reverend Raven / Photo by Larry Crane)You’ve had a long musical partnership with Westside Andy, who plays on every track of Way Back Home. What makes that chemistry work so naturally, especially when you trade guitar and harmonica leads?I first met Andy in the early ’90s. He had a great band based out of Madison called the West Side Andy/Mel Ford Band. They were the premier band in Wisconsin and set a standard of musicianship that we all looked up to.When Jimmy Voegeli, the keyboard player who now has a band called The Jimmys, left, Andy and Mel started hiring me as the fifth piece. They preferred to have some rhythm guitar going on in addition to Mel’s guitar playing. Mel was one of the great Midwest blues guitar players, as well as a great singer. That was a really fun time.That’s also when Clyde Stubblefield, James Brown’s legendary drummer, was living in Madison. He sometimes played the Thursday night shows at the Club Tavern with Andy and Mel, and I got to play with him the first night I was hired. When I got to the club, everything was already set up. When we got on stage, I turned around expecting to see Steven Dougherty, and there he was. I recognized him immediately and blurted out, “You’re Clyde Stubblefield!”He looked at me, laughed, and said, “Yes, I am.”Here I was, playing with one of the guys whose records I’d listened to, and he was just sitting there behind the drums like it was another Thursday night. I was starting to meet musicians I’d admired for years through Madison Slim, West Side Andy, Ken Saydak, and others. I was a little starstruck for a while, but I got past that.Then, about 14 years ago, Big Al Groth had just left my band, and Andy came on board. Immediately, it took us to another level. We had to learn how to back him up at the level of musicianship he was used to, and we had to learn how to weave in and out between the two of us playing.When Andy and I trade guitar and harmonica, it’s a combination of instinct and conscious thought, although it’s more instinct than anything else. Sometimes I’ll think afterward, “Wow, that would have sounded good,” or I’ll hear something in my head that I remember from a record I’ve listened to over the years and think it would fit perfectly. We do that with each other. Sometimes we’ll throw in little reference licks from some of the greats, and we both pick up on them. Other times we’ll trade fours, then trade twos, and we both know when to lay back and let the other guy stretch out a little.Andy might start playing a line from a melody we both know, and I’ll immediately come up with a different rhythm to complement it, or I’ll repeat the line back to him. It’s like saying, “Hey, do you remember this lick?” And I’ll answer him with it. Sometimes we’ll throw in a repeated motif from “Honky Tonk” toward the end of a shuffle in E. It doesn’t matter what song we’re playing. If the tempo and key are right, we might go there. It doesn’t happen every night, which is part of what makes it fun. Maybe it’ll happen once a week, maybe once a month. You never know.Sometimes we end up playing horn lines together, too. Usually, I’ll start that, and Andy picks up on it. We might carry it for 12 bars or trade phrases back and forth. I’ll play the root while he plays the third, the minor third, or the fifth, and we’ll build these little harmonized lines together. It can sound like a horn section.He does that with Dennis Wage, too, when they play “Way Back Home” together live. Dennis and Andy will start playing the horn lines from the song, and it’s really cool. That’s the kind of thing that happens on stage. If you sit there thinking about it, it’s not going to happen. You have to be in the moment.That’s the great part about playing with Andy. I never get tired of playing with him, and that says a lot after 14 years together. I’ve had the same band for a long time, and that shows in how tight we are, especially when I’m playing rhythm guitar and backing Andy up. Sometimes I won’t even take a guitar solo because it doesn’t serve the song. If we’ve got a great groove going and the song needs to get in and out, there’s no reason to stretch it out just because I can.What Andy brings to the band that I don’t think I could replace is his originality. I don’t hear him playing a lot of familiar harmonica licks or solos unless he’s doing it deliberately as a reference to somebody like Little Walter, Big Walter, or James Cotton. He’s his own player. He doesn’t sound like any other harmonica player I’ve ever played with, and you can see it in the reaction he gets from audiences every night.I’ve had two musicians who brought that kind of excitement and originality to the band. When Big Al Groth left, I wondered how I was going to replace that kind of live excitement. Then I got lucky with Westside Andy. He brings that same kind of flair, but on harmonica. He can make that instrument sound almost like a saxophone, and he has one of the best ears I’ve ever played with.After all these years, we can listen to each other, react, and go somewhere neither one of us necessarily planned to go. That’s what makes it exciting. If Andy were gone, I couldn’t replace what he brings to this band. But that’s not something I spend much time worrying about. I’m trying to stay in the moment and take it one day at a time, which is a pretty good way to live when you’re 72.“What hasn’t changed is that we still care about the music and about each other. We’re a band of brothers. If somebody’s in the hospital or needs help, the rest of us pick up the slack, even if that means humping the equipment.” (Reverend Raven & Westside Andy with The Chain Smokin' Altar Boys / Photo by Larry Crane)You’ve said that after so many years together, you can walk into a room, put up the baffles, and simply “lock it in.” How important are trust and musical instinct when recording a blues album?I think it just comes down to having played together all these years. We used to play six nights a week, especially during the summers. Over time, that went down to four nights, and after COVID, three if we were lucky. Now, as I get older, we’re sometimes down to two nights a week. But we still play, and we’re always trying different things on stage. We keep the things that work. If something doesn’t work, I’ll either try to rework it or just let it go.By the time we go into the studio, we’re usually recording songs we’ve already tried out on stage. We see how the audience responds, tweak things a little, and get comfortable playing them live. So when we get into the studio, we’re not trying to figure out the songs from scratch. We already know what works, and we can concentrate on playing the music.I much prefer recording together in one room rather than recording everything separately. Recording with headphones on, laying down one part at a time, feels sterile to me. It’s hard to get into the moment that way. When we’re all in the room together, everything is jelling, and it sounds the way we sound when we’re playing in a club. We just pretend there’s a crowd out there and play the best we can.We’ll do two or three takes and keep the basic tracks from the ones we like. If I need to fix a vocal or repair a really mangled guitar line, I might overdub it, but we keep that to a minimum. I want the record to sound like a band playing together, not a bunch of individual performances assembled afterward.I think the next CD I’m going to make will be a live album of originals. Andy’s last CD with the West Side Andy/Mel Ford Band was called Live on the West Side. It’s out of print now, but it’s just wonderful. The recording quality and balance are so good that it almost sounds like a studio album, except it’s happening live on stage. And you get that extra little bit of energy from a band playing in front of an audience.It’s hard to describe exactly what that extra something is. You’re not thinking about what you’re going to do next or how something is going to sound on tape. You’re just playing, reacting to each other, and letting the music take you wherever it goes.That’s what happened when we recorded Live at Blues on Grand with Madison Slim in 2002. We didn’t even know we were being recorded. I’ve talked about that with Slim since then, and we both agreed that if we’d known, we probably would have gotten in our own heads too much. We would have been thinking about the recording instead of just playing the music.But we didn’t know, so we just played. And I think that’s when you get some of the best music.There’s a live energy on Way Back Home even though it’s a studio album. How important is it to preserve the spontaneity, interaction, and raw feeling of your live shows?I think it’s extremely important to preserve the spontaneity and the ability to interact with each other without getting too polished. That’s how we play our live shows, and those are my favorite kinds of records to listen to, too.You can hear that in-the-room sound on some of the great recordings by West Coast artists and on a lot of the records by artists on Alligator Records. You can tell the musicians are playing together, listening to each other, and reacting to what’s happening musically. There’s a natural interaction that you can’t always get when everything is recorded separately.I also like hearing a little conversation between songs. It gives you a sense of being there, listening to the band in a club. Those little moments are part of what makes a record interesting to me. I want people to hear a band playing together, listening to each other, and enjoying what they’re doing. That’s the kind of feeling we try to capture on Way Back Home.“What excites me about walking into a club, turning on the guitars and the PA system, and playing that first note is that I get to step outside my everyday life for a while. Whatever problems come with life, I can get up on stage and sing and play songs about things that have affected me.“ (Photo: Reverend Raven)The album includes nine covers alongside two originals. When you reinterpret a blues song that countless artists have played, what are you looking for to make it your own?We actually have more than two original songs in our repertoire, but I wasn’t ready to record the others yet. I’m going to save them for the next CD, which I’m hoping to record live.The nine covers on Way Back Home are songs we’ve been playing for years. People would come up to the merchandise table after a show and ask, “That song you played earlier—is that on one of your CDs?” And we’d have to tell them no. After enough of those conversations, maybe during a long van ride, we finally came up with the idea of recording some of those songs.When I reinterpret a song, I usually try giving it a different groove. I learned that from Madison Slim. He had a way of taking a song and making it his own. For example, he’d play Slim Harpo’s “Got Love If You Want It” as a rumba. We might take another song, such as “I’ve Got to Be with You Tonight,” and give it a Magic Sam kind of groove. That’s what we do with a lot of the covers we play.I don’t think any of us has ever sat down and said, “Let’s make this sound exactly like the original record.” If you do that, you’re just mimicking somebody else. You’re becoming a tribute act, and that’s not what Andy and I are trying to do. We’re not out there trying to educate people about vintage blues or tell them how blues is supposed to be played. There are plenty of excellent musicians who do that, and do it very well.What I like to do is imagine how one of the musicians I grew up listening to might approach the song differently. How would Albert Collins play a Slim Harpo tune? How would Albert King approach “Got Love If You Want It” as a rumba? What might Freddie King, B.B. King, Magic Sam, or Jimmy Rogers do with it? Those guys had their own ways of interpreting music. They weren’t simply copying somebody else’s record.That’s the fun of it for me. You take a song you love, put your own personality into it, and see where it goes. If people like what you do with it, you’ve accomplished something. And if somebody says, “Why should I listen to your version when I can listen to the original?” I understand that, too. You can’t please everybody. But I don’t see the point of making a record if you’re not going to bring something of your own to it.“A lot has changed over 30 years, but the important things have stayed the same. We still want to play our asses off, make people dance, and give them a good time. We want people to go home smiling and feeling like they got something out of the night.” (Photo: Reverend Raven)After 30 years and countless nights on stage, what still excites you about walking into a club, plugging in, and playing that first note? Where does the Reverend Raven story go from here?What excites me about walking into a club, turning on the guitars and the PA system, and playing that first note is that I get to step outside my everyday life for a while. Whatever problems come with life, I can get up on stage and sing and play songs about things that have affected me.That goes for the covers, too. When I sing Howlin’ Wolf’s “I’m Leaving You Babe,” I might reference his original intro, and we play the song pretty straight ahead. But when I sing it, I’m drawing on my own experiences. I can picture somebody from my past and sing those words directly to her. In a way, it helps me work through lingering resentments about things that have happened in my life—things I know I can’t afford to keep carrying around if I want to stay healthy and sober.Music also lets me express feelings that I might not be comfortable talking about in an ordinary conversation. Sometimes you have things inside you that are difficult to explain. Singing about those feelings gives me a way to get them out.When I look back on my life, I realize how fortunate I’ve been. I had a great career in the Navy, and I’ve been lucky enough to have experiences I never could have imagined growing up as a poor kid on the South Side of Chicago.When I was 18 or 19, I’d hang out at the Checkerboard Lounge in Chicago and listen to the blues. I never dreamed that someday I’d be playing at Buddy Guy’s club, have my own night there, or open for B.B. King. Those things were so far beyond anything I thought was possible back then.Just being able to play at Buddy Guy’s and open for B.B. King—if I’d never done another thing in music after that, it would have been more than enough for me. I mean, think about that. A kid from the South Side of Chicago gets to experience something like that. It’s pretty amazing when I stop and think about it.I recently played with Bob Stroger, who was our guest at Orson’s Saloon in Cudahy. Bob is 96 years old, and he’s still humping his own equipment. He enjoys himself, and he’s the best-dressed man in the blues. Seeing him out there doing what he loves is pretty inspirational. It reminds me that there’s no reason to stop as long as you’re still able to do it and you love doing it.I plan to keep playing until I fall over, I guess!I think it all comes down to living one day at a time, staying in the present, and loving the life you live. If you don’t love it, maybe you shouldn’t be doing it. But I’m grateful that I can go out, make a living, pay my bills, and make music with my friends.After everything I’ve been fortunate enough to experience, I don’t take any of it for granted. It’s a gift to still be doing what I love, and I intend to keep doing it for as long as I can.Reverend Raven & The Chain Smokin' Altar Boys - Home(Photo: Reverend Raven & Westside Andy with The Chain Smokin' Altar Boys)See More

“I’ll start by saying that Australian identity is not American, we are different we are a bit of a ‘blank canvas’ so to speak. We do not have, with the exception of indigenous music, the established traditions of other parts of the world. This can be seen as a disadvantage but we do have the freedom to pick and choose what we want.”Andy Baylor:The Roots Reach Deep Down (Under)Andy Baylor (born in Melbourne in 1954) is one of the most respected and authentic figures in the Australian roots music scene, with an artistic career spanning over 50 years. As a multi-instrumentalist, he plays the fiddle, guitar, and mandolin with equal virtuosity, while also standing out as a songwriter, vocalist, and visual artist. Since the 1970s, Baylor has been a pioneer and founding member of some of Melbourne's most beloved bands, including The Honeydrippers, The Dancehall Racketeers, Banana Oil, and The Cajun Combo. His career is highlighted by major international and domestic collaborations. He was personally selected by Bob Dylan as the support act for his 1992 Australian tour, opened for Robert Plant, and played fiddle alongside country music legend Slim Dusty. Furthermore, he has collaborated with American virtuosos such as David Grisman, Flaco Jiménez, and Dewey Balfa, and his bands have backed legendary blues and jazz artists including Screamin' Jay Hawkins, Jimmy Witherspoon, and Louisiana Red. His personal musical identity is a unique blend that bridges traditional Australian heritage with blues, jazz, country, and Cajun rhythms.(Photo: Andy Baylor)With more than 18 independent albums to his credit, he continues to create music to this day with his current line-up, The Banksia Band. In parallel with his music, Baylor expresses his artistic vision through painting. In his studio, he creates oil and watercolor works capturing the Australian bush and urban landscapes. He frequently designs his own album covers and showcases his artwork in galleries, proving that his music and painting are two facets of the same inner need to tell the stories of his homeland. Interview by Michael LimniosHow did a young musician growing up in 1970s Melbourne fall in love with authentic American blues and roots music? Was there a specific record or artist that completely changed your life?Growing up in a small Australian country town in late 60’s and 70’s I listened first to the radio and then to records. The radio played the pop music of the day: the Beatles, Stones, Dylan and all the late ‘60’s pop music. It’s worth noting that artists like Aretha Franklin, Otis Redding, Jimi Hendrix and Sly Stone also found their way into this roster of pop stars with a strong blues and soul sound. Later I started to go to parties in suburban Melbourne in the ‘70’s where I heard records of music from the ‘Pre-Beatles Era’. I heard swing and jazz by recordings of Fats Waller, Duke Ellington and Louis Armstrong and  blues by Lightnin’Hopkins and Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee. These recordings showed me that there was something different, something  deeper and perhaps more expressive than commercial pop music of the day.With this in mind I began seeking out more blues and jazz and folk music on records.I would spend hours in Melbourne’s collector record shops sorting through their stock finding gems. You could read great liner notes on the back of the records which would tell you about the artist -where they came from, who they played with, their influences and style etc. It felt like you were doing some secret kind of detective work to find out musical lineage and stylistic connections. For me, it was a matter of ‘seek and ye shall find’ and a very different process from today’s digital storehouse with everything available at the touch of a finger.“I usually start with the voice and the guitar to get the song down and then add colours with the fiddle or the mandolin. A Cajun styled song would require the fiddle to add the flavour and Cajun Shuffle rhythm. Similarly, on a folk or country song, the mandolin can be used to evoke a sweetness and atmosphere. Of course, all these stringed instruments are great blues instruments as well.” (Photo: Andy Baylor, a unique blend that bridges traditional Australian heritage with blues, jazz, country, and Cajun)You have been dubbed the "King of Roots" in Australia. How do you manage to marry the traditional sound of the American South with Australian culture and landscapes, as heard in tracks like Down Where The Banksias Grow?How an artist adapts music from other places and eras in an effort to create their own style is a life’s work with a lot of twists and turns. Firstly, its important  to understand that growing up in Australia was a long way from the source of the music. There was very little direct contact with the traditions of American folk , blues and jazz. Records were inspirational but the hard work of creating your own style and  being more than a mimic or a copycat have been ongoing and challenging. The first thing I tried to do was to find a sense of place in my music. As Americans mythologised their locales and homes I decided to do the same. For instance, Sleepy John Estes, ‘goin to Brownsville’, became in my hands ‘goin to Healesville’ (the small mountain town I grew up in). Similarly as in the Cajun tradition a waltz or a  two-step I would  name after the town it was composed in, or a person that liked it. As well, I looked for similarities between styles rather than differences and not being bound by a tradition I found a freedom of expression. Music is an emotional language and speaks of shared feelings but an Australian experience can never be an American experience.Fortunately, my trips to America over the years provided me with many insights into cultural identity and finding meaning in the music. For instance, A zydeco musician once suggested to me that music can and should be a transcendent experience of sorts: “you must study the artist you are emulating, know about their life, become that person! They feel it and you feel it -that’s how it works.” Cajun musician Dewey Balfa generously encouraged me in ‘89, ‘If you love the music, do it your own way”. Curiously, being away from home can engender a kind of self-realisation of who you are. On returning from the USA in the 80’s I felt determined to bring Cajun rhythms, and Southern folk and blues into the Australian scene in my own way- a way that was natural and real. My recordings, firstly ‘The Bush Is Full of Ghosts’ 1995, followed by ‘Arcadiana’ 2002 then ‘Down Where The Banksias Grow’ 2012, are largely attempts at re-casting my American influences in a contemporary Australian landscape.In 1992, Bob Dylan personally chose you to open his Australian tour. What is your most vivid memory from that tour, and what did you learn from watching him perform up close?The back story for this was that Bob (Dylan) wanted a support act that he himself chose rather the touring agency pushing some rock act upon him. He asked a friend of mine, Suzette, who ran an alternative music booking agency to provide him with CDs of local independent bands. Apparently, so the story goes  he listened to all of these CDs and chose Andy Baylor’s Cajun Combo. His next choice was my brothers’ (Donal and Peter Baylor, both talented musicians) western swing band The Baylor Brothers, who worked in Sydney at the time. So we all teamed up and played for his Sydney show. This would have been in about 93/4. His band and performance was v loose and I’d describe it as ramshackle and chaotic. I don’t think it was a great period for him and his music but still it was great to see and hear him. The standout performances for me were some Carter family songs and old folk stuff, just him and his guitar solo. There is a lot more to say about this night but the thing that I realised from talking to him was that he was so knowledgeable about the history of American music and loved the old blues, folk and country. You must remember that this was in a time when Rock Industry ruled and there was very little acknowledgement of the “roots” of the music.“For me, one of the most important things is to know where everything comes from. This gives you  the power and know-how to re-interpret the great music of the past and re-create songs, as it were, in new ways. If you know the history of a song you can keep it fresh.” (Photo: Andy Baylor)You have backed massive icons on stage, including Jimmy Witherspoon, Screamin' Jay Hawkins, and Louisiana Red. How challenging—and educational—was it to adapt your playing style to such different and powerful musical personalities?Playing music with these people was immensely challenging and I learned so much. Each artist showed me something special... Spoon (Witherspoon) was in the twilight years of his great career and coached me on the rhythm of blues music… the swing of the back beat and the closeness of blues to jazz. He also showed me the ‘Call and Response‘ nature of the guitar answering the vocal refrain, rather than playing over everything randomly. He said “the blues is a language and we’re talking to each other – and we’re telling a story to the people”. Louisiana Red was also very helpful and had been close to Muddy Waters. He would jam in the backstage area playing slide and old blues songs to get in the mood. He was uncompromising and unpredictable. He would say “The Blues is how you feel...you cant fake it” which mean that he could do a show that was a bit on the quiet uninspired side one night and the next could be electrifying the next. This was in contrast to Screamin’ Jay, who was more a show biz construct and had a set show.Other artists I have been fortunate to play with include organ great Jimmy McGriff who calmly and kindly challenged me to play far beyond what I thought I could. He pushed me to new levels of expression just by being in his presence onstage, almost a shamanistic kind of experience. I must make mention of Big Jay McNeely, the rockin’ sax player. He imbued his blues with a strong sense of Gospel spirituality and preached the music. He could squeeze every drop of expression out of the simplest song- strength in simplicity. So these are some of my experiences with these greats.You move with incredible ease from the guitar to the fiddle and the mandolin. When composing a new track, how do you decide which instrument will become the "voice" of the story you want to tell?I usually start with the voice and the guitar to get the song down and then add colours with the fiddle or the mandolin. A Cajun styled song would require the fiddle to add the flavour and Cajun Shuffle rhythm. Similarly, on a folk or country song, the mandolin can be used to evoke a sweetness and atmosphere. Of course, all these stringed instruments are great blues instruments as well.                                     (Photo: Andy Baylor)“Fortunately, my trips to America over the years provided me with many insights into cultural identity and finding meaning in the music. For instance, A zydeco musician once suggested to me that music can and should  be a transcendent experience of sorts: “you must study the artist you are emulating, know about their life, become that person! They feel it and you feel it -that’s how it works.”You were a central figure in shaping Melbourne’s independent music scene in the '70s and '80s with bands like The Honeydrippers. How has the city's live music atmosphere changed from those days to the present?In the 70’s and 80’s the music scene was largely run by the Rock business people -that was the order of the day. The Honeydrippers played swing-style, jump blues-Big Joe Turner, T-Bone Walker and the like and in those days we were almost run out of town! This was pre-Blues Brothers or Brother Where Art Thou. Australian audiences were not into blues music. Over the years, many of us worked up independent and alternative bands that operated outside the mainstream parameters and played blues, folk, country and world styles. We spent these formative years presenting these styles to a growing number of people who were seeking music that wasn’t commercial rock and pop. In the 90’s our ‘roots and blues’ scene, as it became known, got a massive push from the technological innovations of digital recording and self-production of CDs. This meant that smaller acts could produce their own music and sell it to the public at their performances and at a string of small shops in Melbourne and other cities. As a result the 90’s into the 2000’s were a golden period for the growth of roots music in Australia. Ironically, the same technology has made it difficult to sell CDs but these days we do see a healthy Melbourne music scene with many styles -blues, Cajun, Zydeco, Old country styles, Celtic folk, all kinds of jazz, played at a high level to strong audiences. The Australian public is much more knowledgeable about the history of American music and I think Melbourne in particular has developed its own voice.Beyond the blues, you’ve dived deep into Western Swing and Cajun music with the Cajun Combo. What draws you so strongly to the traditional dance sounds of Louisiana?I first heard historical Cajun records and old western swing from the ‘30’s on records. Melbourne had several collector record stores which specialised in re-issues of historic music. At a certain time I was playing with Slim Dusty, a famous Australian country singer and I remember feeling that there was something lacking, to me at any rate, in Australian country music … It was the rhythm and the feeling of the blues- an emotional intensity and honesty. Both of these I heard in Cajun music. It seemed to me that Louisiana Cajun music had created its own style, taking what it wanted, a little blues, some country, some old French music and made its own style. I fell in love with the style and set about learning as much as I could from records. Later in the 80’s I went to Lafayette and surrounding areas and met many musicians including Dewey Balfa, Rufus Thibideaux, Marc Savoy who were all very enthusiastic about my interest in their music and culture. They were all very encouraging and urged me to keep playing it in my own way. Similarly, in the 80’s I spent time in Texas and met some of Bob Wills’ famous players including guitarist Eldon Shamblin and fiddler Johnny Gimble. They too were most encouraging and told me stories of old western swing days. Perhaps the greatest fiddler I met was Cliff Bruner who had many great recordings in the thirties and was still going strong in the 80s .“In the 70’s and 80’s the music scene was largely run by the Rock business people -that was the order of the day. The Honeydrippers played swing-style, jump blues-Big Joe Turner, T-Bone Walker and the like and in those days we were almost run out of town! This was pre-Blues Brothers or Brother Where Art Thou. Australian audiences were not into blues music.” (Photo: Andy Baylor with The Honeydrippers)You have released over 18 albums while maintaining absolute control over your production. What are the greatest rewards and challenges of being a fully independent roots artist in the digital age?I was fortunate to come up in a digital era where you could produce your own recordings and maintain artistic control. Originally, the technology meant artistic freedom at reasonable cost. The major labels and the Rock establishment who had been controlling music production since the ‘60s were threatened by this new-found independent music-making but they couldn’t stop it. This led to a chance to create your own body of work playing what you wanted. I set about establishing an identity as a versatile roots and blues musician introducing new styles and flavours into the scene in Australia. The main challenges then were that the audiences didn’t know much more than commercial pop and rock so it was often hard to reach people. Over the years this changed and people now have very broad tastes and, through the internet, every conceivable style and era is available. Having said this the ease of availability and the sheer amount of information on the internet has, in my opinion, somehow debased the quality and meaning in the music.Also, since the millennium, for several  quite complicated reasons, ‘Retro culture’ has emerged as a dominant cultural force. Probably for the first time in its history, America has become obsessed with its own history and has gone about re-creating its own glorious past. There are many musical examples of this, including the resurgence of old-timey Appalachian music, an interest in old blues, old Cajun...anything old! So digital technology has brought the past more into our lives than ever before and the streaming of music has put an end to making any financial return for small independent recordings. On the up-side, live performance of historical styles and my own music has become more popular as people want something that is real and happening right in front of them.“Growing up in a small Australian country town in late 60’s and 70’s I listened first to the radio and then to records. The radio played the pop music of the day: the Beatles, Stones, Dylan and all the late ‘60’s pop music.” (Photo: Andy Baylor (born in Melbourne in 1954) is one of the most respected and authentic figures in the Australian roots music scene, with an artistic career spanning over 50 years)Through your Easy Ridin' Blues show, you transport audiences straight to the atmosphere of New Orleans. What is the secret to keeping this music alive, fresh, and engaging for younger generations of listeners?For me, one of the most important things is to know where everything comes from. This gives you  the power and know-how to re-interpret the great music of the past and re-create songs, as it were, in new ways. If you know the history of a song you can keep it fresh. An example may be ‘Matchbox Blues’ - recorded by many artists including Carl Perkins and the Beatles. Originally it was made by the brilliant Blind Lemon Jefferson. A good listen to his original  will give you insights into the poetry, meaning and rhythmic setting of the song. If then you listen to Pine Grove blues by Nathan Abshire, Cajun Accordionist, you may hear similarities between the songs and you may be able to re-imagine Matchbox Blues as a swampy Cajun Blues with fiddle and triangle. This is the kind of thing I’ve learned how to do. I can, in a similar way, recast a New Orleans pop song like Bobby Charles’ Before I grow To Old as a wistful  country song, adding steel guitar and fiddle. All of this keeps the music fresh and alive. Naturally the feeling and emotion has to be real and this is something that you cant teach easily .It has to be lived.Looking back on a career spanning more than five decades, what is the main message or feeling you hope your musical legacy leaves behind for future Australian musicians?I’ll start by saying that Australian identity is not American, we are different we are a bit of a ‘blank canvas’ so to speak. We do not have, with the exception of indigenous music, the established traditions of other parts of the world. This can be seen as a disadvantage but we do have the freedom to pick and choose what we want. With this in mind, I’d like to think that I have helped in a small way to broaden the palette of Australian music by introducing the following, Cajun music with its rhythmic drive, joyous expression and community feeling; old western swing which shows us how country music and jazz can be combined; the Blues in all its forms and variations with its spontaneity, improvisation, storytelling and pulse; and finally, my original songs and tunes that bring together many diverse artistic elements and hopefully may offer a contribution to a deepened sense of Australia’s musical identity. Andy Baylon - Bandcamp Home(Photo: Andy Baylor)See More

“Keeping it fresh, keeping the passion alive, is best viewed as the waxing and waning of the moon. Consistently strong performances are a challenge, subject to any number of variable conditions: illness, fatigue and misadventure on the highways.”René Huard:Gently Used (Brand New Blues & Roots)Fort Erie, Ontario blues and roots rocker René Huard has released his new single "Tail Waggin'," out now and giving fans their first taste of his forthcoming album 'Gently Used', arriving November 5, 2026. The song traces back to an old bit of guitar-world folklore. "Tail Waggin'" leads into 'Gently Used', an eleven-track collection written and performed by René Huard on vocals, guitar and harmonica, produced by longtime collaborator Rick Taylor, who also contributes guitar and vocals. The record follows with two additional singles: "Brand New Low," and the title track, "Gently Used." On the road, and recording studio, Huard is backed by the Project band, featuring Rick Taylor on guitar and vocals, Jeff Muir on bass and Peter Griffin on drums, with special guest contributions to the record from: Chris Airyes and Thomas Nelson on vocals, Alistair Robertson on saxophone and Ed Roth on keys. The band has built solid grassroots following across the Niagara Region, playing summer festivals including the Canal Bank Blues Shuffle in Thorold and Donnelly's.(Photo: René Huard)Huard's musical roots run four decades deep from his early days fronting the Meteors, who opened for blues heavyweights James Cotton, Long John Baldry and the Downchild Blues Band, and appeared at the first-ever Ottawa Blues Festival. He's also known to Canadian audiences as the former host of the television series Antique Hunter and Antique Style. With 'Gently Used', René Huard adds another chapter to a career built on the road, in the clubs, and among the musicians who shaped him, proof that four decades in, the songs are still coming, and the guitar case is staying open for more than just steak.Interview by Michael Limnios                    Archive: René Huard, 2023 Interview Special Thanks: Eric AlperThe story behind "Tail Waggin'": Your new single is inspired by a delightful quote from Wes Montgomery about tossing a "chunk steak" into his guitar case. How does this urban legend translate to your own relationship with the guitar after four decades in music?My guitar, the ol' git-box. My first was a KENT acoustic, a gift from my Uncle Larry Carrol (referenced as a "Red Silvertone" in the lyrics of 2024's "Blues Calling"). The first of many, it kept me company over the years. You might say those guitars "accompanied" me. (Laughs.)Bad pun aside, the instrument has always been there for me in the most unconditional way, allowing me to explore undiscovered sounds. On my best days, immersed in the mystery of the creative journey, I might write a song if I tried. And my first attempts were just that: very trying! Later, the songs got better. I could always pick it up, start strumming and search for the lost chord, like having a conversation with a trusted friend. I took a vacation once, with no room for the guitar in the car. Got down to Florida, and songs were percolating in my notebook. I had to rent a guitar for the week. It satisfied me in a way local citrus and sunburn could not. Four decades later, I am still intrigued, fascinated and mystified. Unschooled in theory, I rather enjoy not knowing exactly where I'm going.In the music video for "Tail Waggin'," you use humour to address the wearisome and tedious reality of touring. How do you manage to keep your performance fresh and your passion alive after all these years on the road?Keeping it fresh, keeping the passion alive, is best viewed as the waxing and waning of the moon. Consistently strong performances are a challenge, subject to any number of variable conditions: illness, fatigue and misadventure on the highways. I've learned to trust that, no matter how crappy I may feel on the first song of the night, the more I lean into the music, the more it gives back to me. The longer I do this thing, the more nuanced my performances get. It's still a passion project. I have had to rein in some bad habits, things I could get away with in my reckless youth, but this does not feel like a sacrifice. It's more like an "I get to" moment, stepping onto the stage. Having a good laugh is as good as, or better than, any mood-altering substance. I keep my antenna up, scanning for potential levity I can inject into a song or introduction. Who you play with can be more important than what or where you play. Quality hang time can get one through a rough gig.“In my early attempts at songwriting, I was way less discerning and less informed by living this life. Flush with inspiration and light on content, I wrote many forgettable songs. These days, I write fewer songs, but I write creatively every day (journal or stream-of-consciousness stuff).” (René Huard, Ontario blues and roots rocker /  Photo by Vinnie Pellegrini)The creation of 'Gently Used': The title of the album has a beautiful, soulful blues resonance. What does 'Gently Used' represent for you at this specific stage of your life and career?Some of the best things in life have aged well: fine wine, the patina on a brass candlestick, crackled varnish in just the right places on antique armour. The roots of American music are the well we go to: gospel, blues, country, rock and soul, sounds derived from the African American experience. There are no bubble-wrapped plastic gadgets in our trick bag. That said, we are not predisposed to speaking only to our own seasoned demographic. I'm a big believer in cross-generational possibilities.As my age does inform, to some extent, the content of my writing, I am consciously trying to achieve universality in the themes I explore. Broken down into two categories, there are two kinds of music: good music and all the rest. I do prefer my music, and vintage stage wear, gently used.Four decades of blues: You started out fronting The Meteors, opening for blues heavyweights like James Cotton and Long John Baldry. What is the most valuable lesson you learned from sharing the stage with those legendary figures?That is the most difficult question, parsed down to one "most valuable" lesson amidst the many lessons. I'll have to go with a slight deviation here and say each legendary performing artist has shown me something I might imagine being useful. But it's not the obvious guitar or harmonica riff, or vocal technique. To be completely honest, all the greats have that magic element: stage presence.They handle pressure with apparent ease, lead by example, and display supreme confidence and professionalism. They are cordial with most everybody but don't suffer fools. Though they may not actively mentor, they accept being role models, often sharing their stage with those aspiring to greater heights. By doing what they do best, they inadvertently inspire others to greatness. Ah, there it is. The number one lesson: Work towards being an inspiration to others!Looking from your highly successful previous album 'Blues Calling' (produced by Jack de Keyzer) to the upcoming 'Gently Used,' how do you feel your songwriting and approach to roots music have matured?Well, we are all evolving, I at my own pace, which at times feels snail-like. If I mature anymore, I'll be fossilized. The 11 final tracks (of 16 demoed) are, to some degree, divergent from 'Blues Calling,' though still firmly in the roots realm. Starting from a rich bouillon base of traditional sounds and folklore, tapping into the colloquial wisdom of the Deep South on "Clean House," it's a solid leap into a wry perspective.Certainly, the reggae-ish "Salt 'n' Peppa," coming from the Buddhist "die before you die" perspective, is mature-ish. "Old Flame" has old-world romanticism. Don't see the kids dancing to that one. "Tail Waggin'" and "Brand New Low" offer unfettered electric blues and danceable funk fun. The soul ballad in waltz time, "All Night," is a fine excuse to dance close enough to keep a playing card from falling to the ground. Perhaps "mature-themed." Yeah, let's roll with that.“On my best days, immersed in the mystery of the creative journey, I might write a song if I tried. And my first attempts were just that: very trying! Later, the songs got better. I could always pick it up, start strumming and search for the lost chord, like having a conversation with a trusted friend.” (Photo: René Huard, his musical roots run four decades deep from his early days fronting the Meteors”You have built a remarkably solid, dedicated grassroots following across the Niagara Region. How important to you is the support of the local community and homegrown summer festivals like the Canal Bank Blues Shuffle?As most folks are aware, these days, in the new music business, live performances are the mainstay of earnings for musicians. Gigs can be difficult to find and keep. It's fiercely competitive out there, with solid-gold heritage bands ruling the casino stages and tribute acts aplenty. It's tough stringing together sufficient bookings to keep a local band unified, especially one committed to performing original music, as is our mandate, now with two LPs of self-penned material to perform. We have been well supported by Niagara Region venues since 2024, building a solid grassroots following. We enjoyed playing the Canal Bank Blues Shuffle (will they have another?) and Rattlesnake Blues in summer 2026. Big fun!2027, who can say? It seems we have reached a high-water mark playing exclusively in our own community. It's probably time we spread our wings and travel a bit, expanding our fan base. It's convenient to play close to home, but how can they miss us if we won't go away?Canadian audiences also know you as the former host of the television series Antique Hunter and Antique Style. Do you see a common philosophy between hunting for rare, historic antiques and crafting an authentic blues song?Sure, there is some common ground there. Both pursuits involve a manner of hunting, searching and researching.Songwriting: you've got to know where you have been to know where you are going. Write about what you know. Always best.Antiques: one must become a student of the past.The other shared X-factor is trusting one's intuitive instincts. I've been told, "You have a good eye" for rarities and the unusual. One must have that to pull a silk purse from a field of sows' ears. A songwriter leans into his gut knowledge that a turn of phrase, a passing comment, a euphemism, a storm cloud brewing or a "Tequila Sunrise" contains the seed of a lyric worth pursuing. There is more, of course. The rest will cost ya. LOL.The press release notes that "four decades in, the songs are still coming." When you sit down to write music today, does the inspiration flow easier compared to your early days, or have you become more critical of your own work?Hmm. In my early attempts at songwriting, I was way less discerning and less informed by living this life. Flush with inspiration and light on content, I wrote many forgettable songs. These days, I write fewer songs, but I write creatively every day (journal or stream-of-consciousness stuff). It's like priming an old well-water pump. It takes a bit of work to build up sufficient pressure, so I do a little every day, preparing to receive that inspired insight, that gush of cool, sweet water worthy of filling the bucket. Do I consistently commit every work to completion? Is it demo-worthy? Sometimes. Yes, I'm way more critical of my work, and editing is where the magic happens for me. That extra bit, a freebie.(René Huard / Photo by Vinnie Pellegrini)See More

“The impact of blues and jazz on racial and sociocultural implications to me, by simple observation, traditionally comes from people of color. Throughout history we have many people with different shades of skin coming out with the blues, like myself.”Mysti Mayhem:Global Hippie from the HoodNorth Carolinian Mysti Mayhem (aka Misty Dawn Naholnik) is an American singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist based in Durham, North Carolina. Self-described as the "global hippie from the hood," she possesses a powerful voice backed by more than 24 years of continuous artistic presence and live performances. Her music is a soulful, high-energy blend of blues, folk rock, country, and acoustic rock. Pennsylvania-born Mysti began performing on stages during her school years and was a member of the duo Spellbox from 2004 to 2009, with whom she released 4 albums. A major milestone in her career was the mentorship and guidance she received from the legendary Bo Diddley.(Mysti Mayhem / Photo by BBAIT Music Studios)In 2008, she became the 13th artist on the Sellaband platform to successfully crowd-fund her debut solo album, titled Diversity, raising $50,000 entirely from the support of 532 fans. Navigating through personal losses and chronic pain management, Mayhem has shaped a deeply emotional and therapeutic sound, transforming every live performance into a unique experience for her audience. Her artistic merit was officially recognized at the Josie Music Awards, where she won the award for Best Female in Jazz/BluesInterview by Michael LimniosYou often describe yourself as 'the global hippie from the hood.' How do these two seemingly opposite elements coexist in the way you write lyrics and connect with your audience?These two seemingly opposite elements coexist within my lyrics and music because I am literally the hippie from the hood and always have been. The hood is affordable, and law enforcement is less likely to be called because I am playing music and writing late at night. The hood is where I also met my mentor, BO DIDDLEY, when I was renting a house full of 30 other university of Florida college students, having just moved away from Pennsylvania, and lost my family trying to make my dreams come true. The hood is where I feel comfortable, and in every hood, you will find the blues.You were fortunate enough to have a true rock 'n' roll legend as a mentor. What is the most valuable lesson or advice you kept from him that still influences your guitar playing today?Bo Diddley gave me a lot of advice, but the piece that sticks out to me the most would be to play for one person like I would play for 1 million people. After my performance with him in the park before it was renamed Bo Diddley Plaza, there were two people asleep who appeared to be homeless. After the performance, I asked him if he was upset and how he should be upset that there were only two people out there. He looked me dead in my eyes, squared his feet up and his shoulders to mine and pointed his finger at me and said, “How dare you! Those two people out there deserve the music as much as everyone else. Imagine you went to church, and the person at the pulpit didn’t give you the best sermon possible because it was just you in the room, and he rolled his eyes, said a few words and walked off stage as though you didn’t matter. If you can’t play for one person, you don’t deserve 10, 100, 1000 and you damn sure don’t deserve 1 million.”“The blues listens to those who have been unheard. And it even, perhaps, gives fire… back to those whose inner flame has been quenched. The blues is more than Music. It heals us. And that’s how I would like the music to affect people. Bo Diddley believed one could get people sick if they got up on stage, messing around, not delivering what these people came here for. And they came to hear the blues.” (Mysti Mayhem / Photo by BBAIT Music Studios)Your voice has an incredible, raw power. How do you manage to maintain that level of intensity and emotion in every live performance while protecting your vocal cords?To maintain the level in intensity and emotion in every performance while protecting vocal cords is very tricky. A lot of it is pacing. Pacing throughout the night and pacing throughout the week. I also have to understand when I need to cancel performances. Singing while unwell can damage the vocal cords permanently, and it is better to upset people who were planning on seeing me, than to permanently damage my body, because this is how I make a living. Without a nuclear family anymore, which I lost at the age of 19, it is very important I take care of my body. Drinking water in between every song is important, Keeping my throat hydrated. No more alcohol, and no more cigarettes in my life. These have helped tremendously.In your live shows, you frequently use a looper and slide guitar, creating a massive, "full-band" sound all by yourself on stage. What fascinates you most about this solo format compared to playing with a full band?Playing solo opposed to playing with a full band is, quite candidly, just easier. I don’t have worry about everybody being on the same page, Battle conflicting schedules or other priorities. Also, for my voice, it’s really important I have a band that doesn’t get too loud and that’s extraordinarily difficult. The more a performer feels their instrument the louder they are naturally inclined to perform. And as the night continues, the louder everyone performs, which makes me sing, louder and tires, my ears, and larynx out. And financially speaking, it is easier for me to pay my bills solo than it is for me to pay a band.Your renditions of classic tracks like "I'd Rather Go Blind" truly stand out. What is the secret to taking such an iconic song and making it sound entirely your own?The secret to taking on iconic songs and making them my own lies within the truth of the song. The song has to live inside of me. I have to feel and understand the message of the song so I can convey it to you properly. It’s all about the song. If I cannot do this with the song, I can’t do it justice and therefore you are better off hearing the original. It’s also important that the song comes out of me naturally, rather than me becoming a mimic or trying to do the song exactly the way it was written. You are better off hearing the original in that case. No one can beat the original.“Staying inspired the midst of exhaustion and travel while constantly touring is tricky. I have recently found my Niche, which is writing what I know about. So I honestly have to have the experience in order to write about it. And I tend to want to write about the sad, and quite often, uncomfortable aspects of life.” (Mysti Mayhem / Photo by BBAIT Music Studios)North Carolina has a very rich and distinct musical heritage. How has the local community and culture of Durham influenced your sound and growth over the recent years?The community and culture of Durham North Carolina has influenced me greatly. Within the area, I have grown to love Appalachian music, folk music, singer/songwriter and blues/jazz. This area is the United States’ Best kept secret in regards to musical diversity. And the music is a reflection of the lives of who created it.You spend a tremendous amount o f time on the road performing live. How do you manage to stay creative and find inspiration for new songs amidst the exhaustion of traveling and constant shows?Staying inspired the midst of exhaustion and travel while constantly touring is tricky. I have recently found my Niche, which is writing what I know about. So I honestly have to have the experience in order to write about it. And I tend to want to write about the sad, and quite often, uncomfortable aspects of life. Being on the road offers this. There’s plenty of experiences on the road if one is willing to have them. And that is how my songs come about. I like to listen to people‘s truth. I like to observe them as they are and that in of itself will inspire me. Every person is a song, waiting to be written.Blues and rock guitar have traditionally been male-dominated fields. Did you face any bias when you were starting out, and how do you see things changing for female musicians today?I did face much bias Starting out. And I still do today. I was shocked at how many grown men had no problem saying to my face some of the most horrific things at the clubs I was performing at when I was 21 years old. And I realized it was their own insecurities that was creating anger, and I tried my best not to feed that or listen to them. Everyone has an opinion. It doesn’t make it valid. And quite honestly, listening to that helped me shape who I am today. I thought because I was a female, I had to make myself sexualized in order to be heard. Perhaps that’s true for a certain group of people, but it attracted a group of people that quite honestly I have no interest in attracting anymore. So I wanted to become the kind of woman I felt safe around as a child. I always loved watching Mary Poppins. So in my older age, I try to be more like her. Ha ha ha. In regards to how women will be facing this today and in the future, I believe this will always happen. People will feel insecure and they will pick us apart. I say, play on, and keep making it about the music.“The community and culture of Durham North Carolina has influenced me greatly. Within the area, I have grown to love Appalachian music, folk music, singer/songwriter and blues/jazz. This area is the United States’ Best kept secret in regards to musical diversity. And the music is a reflection of the lives of who created it.”(Mysti Mayhem / Photo by BBAIT Music Studios)What is the impact of the Blues and Jazz on the racial and socio-cultural implications?  How do you want the music to affect people?The impact of blues and jazz on racial and sociocultural implications to me, by simple observation, traditionally comes from people of color. Throughout history we have many people with different shades of skin coming out with the blues, like myself. The blues knows no color, but it absolutely understands the soul. The blues gives a voice for those who feel like they don’t have one… offers a spotlight … for those who feel unseen. The blues listens to those who have been unheard. And it even, perhaps, gives fire… back to those whose inner flame has been quenched. The blues is more than Music. It heals us. And that’s how I would like the music to affect people. Bo Diddley believed one could get people sick if they got up on stage, messing around, not delivering what these people came here for. And they came to hear the blues.Mysti Mayhem - HomeSee More

“What I miss about that music from the past—and even more so today, in the age of AI where more and more music is created by robots—is, first and foremost, the human element. It was music made by real people. That implies a dynamic quality and a vitality that a robot simply cannot achieve. The mood during a recording session, imperceptible little errors: all of that gives it life.”Lucky Pepper: The Blues Had a Baby and They Named It Rock and RollGeoffrey Lucky Pepper is a French musician, singer, songwriter, and producer, widely recognized as the charismatic leader and frontman of the explosive retro-rock 'n' roll band Lucky Pepper. Based in France, he has carved out a unique space in the contemporary European alternative music scene by passionately reviving and reinventing the raw American sound of the late '50s and early '60s. His musical identity is a powerful blend of authentic Mississippi blues, gritty Louisiana rock 'n' roll, rockabilly, and garage surf, drawing inspiration from both rhythm & blues pioneers and the wildest garage bands of the mid-20th century. What sets Geoffrey apart is not just his exceptional guitar skills or his distinctive vocals, but his complete visual and theatrical approach to his art. The band's (JP Cardot on piano, Olivier Viscat on bass, and Rémi Puglisi on drums) live performances are legendary for their high-octane energy and showmanship, all set within a vintage universe heavily inspired by classic American comic books. Beyond his work on stage, Geoffrey is a multi-talented creator who maintains total artistic control over his projects; he operates his own audiovisual production house, Ducky Duck Studio, where he personally directs, edits, and produces the band's cinematic and stylish music videos.(Photo: Geoffrey Lucky Pepper)Following the widespread success of their high-energy vocal album Easier Said Than Done!, Geoffrey took an unexpected but mature artistic turn. This culminated in his new album titled Cooking Without Singing, which was released on vinyl in early 2026. This latest record marks a major milestone in his career as it is an entirely instrumental work. Stripped of any lyrics, the album allows Geoffrey's guitar to take center stage and do the storytelling, creating a cinematic rock 'n' roll landscape that highlights the complexity of his compositions and proves that authentic rock 'n' roll energy remains deeply captivating based solely on the power of musical arrangement.Interview by Michael LimniosHow has the music and Rock n’ Roll culture influenced your views of the world? What do you miss most nowadays from the music of the past?What resonates most with me about rock 'n' roll culture is the raw energy and sound of the music—that uncompromising, "in-your-face" attitude. It’s the sense of urgency and carefree teenage spirit, the feeling that anything is possible, along with the rebellious nature that has always defined rock 'n' roll. After all, "rock 'n' roll" is also a state of mind : a free spirit that don't care convention. I also love the fact that this music sits at the crossroads of blues and country in all their forms—genres that themselves stem from influences rooted in other European or African sounds. It’s very interesting.What I miss about that music from the past—and even more so today, in the age of AI where more and more music is created by robots—is, first and foremost, the human element. It was music made by real people. That implies a dynamic quality and a vitality that a robot simply cannot achieve. The mood during a recording session, imperceptible little errors: all of that gives it life.Secondly, back then, there were also technical and material constraints: barely a few microphones for an entire band, limited tracks on recording systems, and expensive tape—meaning you couldn't just keep re-recording the same song until you were satisfied. You had to make choices and compromises, prioritizing certain elements over others; you had to think about the sound before even starting to record and make deliberate artistic decisions. It meant arriving at the studio fully prepared. It meant accepting a take that captured incredible atmosphere and groove, even if it contained a few wrong notes. That entire way of working and approaching music is what contributes to the sound of that era—and to the human, living quality of the music itself. Bands made do with whatever equipment they had available, which resulted in a wide variety of different productions. And people were less afraid to experiment with their sound.These days, everything is standardized, and everything sounds the same. It's a kind of boring.  Everyone uses the same software, hardware, and plug-ins because "that’s what you’re supposed to use" or "that’s how it’s done." Everything sounds clean and polished. Since it is always possible to undo and edit things. Everything is perfect because everything can be reworked on the computer. When I record, I’m not stuck in the past; I use modern technology because it’s practical. However, I try to work by deliberately imposing constraints on myself to recreate the conditions of that era—using few microphones, a maximum of three takes, and no more than ten tracks. At the same time, I try to keep in mind that there are no rules in art, so if I like something unconventional, I keep it.“I’m a huge comic book fan and collector—mainly of vintage comics—because of their colors and old-school artwork. The idea came up when I needed the artwork for my first album. I wanted something different from the classic blues or rock 'n' roll visuals—you know, pin-ups, Jack Daniel's, vintage cars, overalls, bayous, and front porches.” (Geoffrey Lucky Pepper / Photo by Yannick Enjalbert)Your sound blends Louisiana blues with garage rock. How did you manage to marry the traditional swamp sound of the American South with the raw energy of garage?I don't know if I've succeeded! But I know I've always wanted to create a sound that is uniquely my own. That’s what I work on the most: trying to build an identifiable, recognizable artistic universe that speaks to me, and makes people say: "That’s the Lucky Pepper sound". Musically, my roots are in the blues. And the kind of blues that speaks to me most is from the American South—Mississippi and, above all, Louisiana—because there’s often a "pop" element to it; they are songs with melodies. This gives things a catchy and sunny feel that speak to people and corespond to me. For my owns songs, I draw from the musical influences I love without overthinking it: rhythm and blues, rock 'n' roll, Cajun, zydeco, country, rockabilly, soul, surf music, swamp pop, swamp blues, hill country blues, even sometimes punk, and so on.On top of that, I try to smooth it all out with a consistent sonic thread so it doesn't go off in too many different directions. And for that raw "garage" sound, I think it comes more from my way of playing and way of being: high voltage! In any case, I often enjoy finding "bridges" between musical styles or different bands.Take Buddy Holly, for instance (a favorite of mine): if you crank up the tempo and add distorted guitars, it turns into the Ramones! And, to me some of Buddy Holly's songs aren't so far from the songwriting style of certain Louisiana music, in terms of that "pop song" feel. So yes, I’m trying to blend my three ingredients—garage rock 'n' roll energy, an "old-school" sound, and Louisiana songs—and see what comes of it.  The band has a very strong retro aesthetic reminiscent of vintage comic books. How did this idea come about, and how does the world of comics connect with your music?I’m a huge comic book fan and collector—mainly of vintage comics—because of their colors and old-school artwork. The idea came up when I needed the artwork for my first album. I wanted something different from the classic blues or rock 'n' roll visuals—you know, pin-ups, Jack Daniel's, vintage cars, overalls, bayous, and front porches. Comic book art suits me, and it’s a style I know well. I also find it visually effective because it’s colorful and highly dynamic; that energy resonates with my personality and my music. Plus, even though comic books have been around for a long time, they’re part of the collective consciousness and speak to everyone."Lucky Pepper" was originally my stage name. I now view it more like a comic book character, where each album represents a new episode in a comic book series. What’s really cool is that once you have a character, you can dream up all kinds of stories, episodes, and spin-offs for them. It’s really fun. And I think music—and art in general—should be fun. People can feel that. Once again, I’m imagining bridges between things : here music and comics; I find that music can sometimes be very "visual," and comics very "musical."“Why is it important to we preserve and spread the blues? Because the blues is a popular music that speaks to everyone. It’s a music based on sharing. And I’ve never met anyone who told me, "I don’t like the blues."” (Geoffrey Lucky Pepper / Photo by Yannick Enjalbert)You are known for your explosive energy on stage. What is it that you feel unlocks inside you when you are in front of an audience?Performing live is the ultimate goal. It’s what fuels me and it's an adrenaline shot! For me the show is all about partying with the crowd and celebrate life. Having fun with them, and them with me. During the show, nothing else matters but the present moment, when you have to give it all. It’s also a way to release any pent-up energy—whether good or bad. By the end, you’re tired, but you feel light and happy. Is there a specific moment or story from your live performances that has stayed unforgettable for you?There was a time I played at a blues festival called "MNOP" in southwestern France, near Bordeaux. I had a conversation with Kirk Joseph, the sousaphone player of the Dirty Dozen Brass Band from New Orleans. I was telling him how hard it was to explain my music to people and promoters because it had so many influences—some people couldn't quite figure out if it was blues, rock 'n' roll, or what. He replied: "It doesn't matter what your music is. What matters is whether people like it or not. So just do what you want. I’ve always done what I wanted, and I’ve played with B.B. King and Fats Domino."For the album "Cooking Without Singing", you chose to release a single also in a 10-inch vinyl format. Why do you insist on analog in a purely digital age?The 10-inch format is my favorite—mostly because I think the object itself is really cool. I also thought it worked well for a special project album. And once again, it imposes a constraint I really like: the tracks can't be too long—you have to get straight to the point. It’s actually pretty rock 'n' roll.I insist on a physical release because when the object is real, it actually exists. You listen the story from start to finish.  Digital is just a monthly subscription that gives you access to everything sweepable; it’s there, but not really there, like the wind. For this album, I decided not to put it on the Spotify platform, which goes against my values.“For me, the soul and intention you put into the music matter more than technique. I think it come from the blues approach. As non-musicians are more responsive to the soul of the music than to the technical side....and you play music for non-musician most of all.” (Geoffrey Lucky Pepper, a French musician, singer, songwriter, and producer / Photo by Yannick Enjalbert)You started the project in Bordeaux and have been touring France playing at many festivals. How do you see the current state of the blues and rock 'n' roll scene in France?The blues and rock 'n' roll scene in France is a niche, underground scene, and these are minor musical genres.  Despite that, there are plenty of great blues and rock'n'roll bands and artists —both women and men — in France. There are also some fantastic festivals, clubs and bar, but few of them relative to the number of bands.There are also some barriers between the various sub-genres—blues, rock 'n' roll, rockabilly, and so on. So, it can be hard for some people to figure out what I do: blues? rock 'n' roll? rockabilly? More '50s? More '60s? My musical influences come from all of that, so it's a bit of everything rolled into one.People sometimes like things to be clearly defined so they can put you in a box and know exactly what kind of music to expect. To me, these three musical styles are sisters and stem from the same root—even though there are obvious nuances. Blues is a quintessential American music genre with deep roots in the US South. What are the biggest challenges and advantages for a French artist trying to deliver this culture in their own authentic way?First, when you’re French—coming from a Latin language background—you start off at a disadvantage:  the language barrier. It is not just the words, but also their dynamics. The French language does not place the words rythm in the same places in sentences. Obviously, their culture is different from ours. But there are still universal themes, regardless of culture: love, relationships, inner demons, sex, feelings—life itself, really.Also, you aren't American, so in people's eyes you're inevitably considered less talented, and you have to prove yourself more than American artists. Often, American artists are booked first and command the highest fees, and then French artists are considered with the remaining budget. I think the main thing is simply to remain authentic and true to yourself. People can sense it.“Performing live is the ultimate goal. It’s what fuels me and it's an adrenaline shot! For me the show is all about partying with the crowd and celebrate life. Having fun with them, and them with me. During the show, nothing else matters but the present moment, when you have to give it all. It’s also a way to release any pent-up energy—whether good or bad.  By the end, you’re tired, but you feel light and happy.” (Geoffrey Lucky Pepper / Photo by Yannick Enjalbert)What are you doing to keep your music relevant today, to develop it and present it to the new generation?The tricky part is that the older generations who love this music can be quite purist about the sound, the playing style, the way of dressing, and so on. Younger generations, on the other hand, don't have those same codes and aren't very familiar with the music; they might find the 1950s or 1960s style a bit "has been". So, rather than trying to appeal to both generations and making compromises, I just try to be myself and playing what I like. You can't please everyone anyway. In fact, I think trying to please everyone is the best way to fail in the long run. I'm trying to stay fresh, maintaining that cool, teenage vibe and keeping the rock 'n' roll energy alive. Live rock 'n' roll energy and spirit speaks to every generations.I think, the key is to take a real interest in those musics and what makes it unique to understand its conventions. So you can then break free from the traditional, purist approach and create his own music, while demonstrating an awareness of its origins and a solid grasp of the subject matter. Once again, I don't know if I'm succeeding, but that is clearly what I'm trying to do.What's the balance in music between technique and soul? Why is it important to we preserve and spread the blues?For me, the soul and intention you put into the music matter more than technique. I think it come from the blues approach. As non-musicians are more responsive to the soul of the music than to the technical side....and you play music for non-musician most of all. But of course, you need a certain level of technique. That said, I might not be the best person to answer this, since I admit I’ve never practiced guitar for eight hours a day to become the best player. I don't have the attention span for that, and I find practicing just for the sake of practicing pretty boring. Generally, when I do work on technique, it’s because I’m missing a specific skill needed for a song or a certain mood. I really approach technique as something that serves my music and my intent, rather than just a way to "be good." And besides, I don't consider myself a very good guitarist. I'm just okay. But when it comes to singing, however, I'm much more demanding, since I don't really like my voice. I actually need to start taking singing lessons again! I think everyone is different and should just do what feels right to them. There is no really rules. That's what is cool with music and art. Why is it important to we preserve and spread the blues? Because the blues is a popular music that speaks to everyone. It’s a music based on sharing. And I’ve never met anyone who told me, "I don’t like the blues." Lucky Pepper - Home(Geoffrey Lucky Pepper / Photo by Yannick Enjalbert)See More