Original image by There Stands the Glass.
In a recent discussion with my In My Headache podcast partner Aaron Rhodes, I proclaimed that not a single artistically important blues artist has emerged in the last 25 years. I stand by the assertion, with the caveat that “important” and “good” are often two different things.
I developed an affinity for the blues after happening upon a Son Seals track on Lindsay Shannon’s weekly blues program when I was ten. The early conversion allowed me to catch multiple performances by since-deceased blues giants including Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown, Albert Collins, Johnny “Clyde” Copeland, James Cotton, Lowell Fulson, John Lee Hooker, B.B. King, Jimmy Rogers, Otis Rush, Koko Taylor, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Eddie “Cleanhead” Vinson, Junior Wells and Johnny Winter. Sadly, I added James Harman to the list today.
By inserting his enormous personality and distinctive talent to the tradition rather than merely mimicking the masters who inspired him, James Harman worked at a similarly high level. Harman was best known as an outstanding harmonica player, but his witty songwriting and deft touch as a bandleader distinguished him from his peers.
Most of Harman’s catalog is out of print and unavailable on streaming services. Extra Napkins is arguably his strongest work, but I also recommend all of the albums he recorded for Black Top Records. I periodically set up in-store performances for Harman when I represented the label in the early ‘90s.
I still marvel at the man who ignored Harman’s tremendous band as he methodically shopped the blues cassette section of the Kansas City record store at 4128 Broadway. Harman overcame many such slights in an admirable career. He last came through town in 2019. Much of the considerable swagger he displayed as a young man remained near the end.