Otis Taylor

You might think there are no more great bluesmen, no one fit to join the ranks of Hooker, Waters, Patton, or Johnson. But you'd be wrong. There's Otis Taylor. Like all the greats, his music is completely individual, while fitting in the framework of the blues, crackling with intensity and passion.

At 54, he's on track and receiving acclaim - not bad for someone who took a 19-year hiatus from music to deal in antiques, and only returned to it in 1995.

"When we play live, we're very intense, in your face, psychedelic and pulsating."

"In the '80s I was co-sponsoring a pretty serious cycle team with this place called Buccaneer Clothing Stores," Taylor recalls. "They went bankrupt, and during the '90s the man who ran it opened a coffee house. He called me for advice about a P.A., since he knew I'd played music when I was young. I said, 'If you open a coffee house, I'll be there." I called Kenny [Passarelli, bass and keyboards], and Eddie [Turner, lead guitar], and we just kind of got together, and it happened. We did it again to make sure it was real, and it was, and people said, you need to go in the studio - it was very trippy stuff. I'm glad I stopped for 19 years, because there's just more to write about."

And his subject matter covers a lot of ground. On his three albums, including this year's Respect the Dead, he deals with the murder of his great grandfather, homelessness, slavery, and depression, among other things. This is definitely the dark side of the blues, although Taylor says, "It's not really political, I just tell the truth. It's history, it's storytelling, I'm just like a newspaper reporter, and in some ways I am. That's what a griot is, just a teller of stories, of history. Is there any doubt that there are hungry all over the world? Maybe I'm a poet, I guess. It's part of being an artist, I suppose - I consider myself a blues artist, rather than a blues musician."

That artistry is finally being recognized. In 2001 Taylor won the prestigious W.C. Handy blues award as Best New Artist for his stunning White African disc.

"I was surprised, because I didn't think people knew who I was. But it was over for me in 15 minutes, because I was involved in sports. You win, and you go on to the next thing."

That next thing is moving his career to another level, which is finally happening. as audiences are won over not only by his records, but also by his fiery shows.

"When we play live, we're very intense, in your face, psychedelic and pulsating," he explains. "We're very aggressive live. I try to keep the albums very sparse. One time we tried using a drummer, but it didn't make any difference. Sometimes you can hear what we do more clearly because there aren't any drums in it. Maybe that's part of our technique."

They push the limits, and nowhere is that more apparent than on "Three Stripes On A Cadillac," a song about innocent death, memory and a classic car race in Mexico.

"I love that song," Taylor says. "My friend Carl told me the story, and I thought, I have to write a song about that. And in this year's Tour de France, a young boy got hit by a media car and killed, so I'm singing about things people need to be thinking about. I go to the edge with it as a blues song, but it still has a bluesy vernacular."

For all that he plays the blues, with echoes of John Lee Hooker in his singing and the often monochordal style of his songs, Taylor admits that his influences are unexpected: "I love flamenco music, Irish music, Appalachian music - those are the things that influenced me. I like Dave Brubeck jazz. It's the influences outside your environment that influence you, not soul music or blues, because I was raised with that. My influences are what makes my music a little different."

And Taylor celebrates that difference - often. He's already back in the studio, working on his next album, because "I feel like I'm prolific. I came out with Respect the Dead quickly so people wouldn't think White African was a fluke. The next one will be just as intense."