"It's all good. Y'all. ". With a vintage stamp and smelling of diesel and Jack Daniels, Steve 'Seasick' Wold went on to win the best breakthrough act at this years Mojo awards, and in turn has been turning on the festival circuit with his somewhat reluctant fame. All the best parties end in the kitchen, and 'Dog House Music' was layed down with a raw and endearing charm with a bottle of sourmash held at sniffing distance. This successor, 'I Started Out With Nothing and I've Still Got Most Of It Left' has the spit on a rag rub with songs given more of a production burnish. Even Steve's voice sounds like he's trimmed a few years. Nevertheless, here we find the dungereed delta bluesmans' picaresque tales have more flavours than a southern gumbo.
Taking little more than is needed to get the job done, Steve let's his geetar do the talking with barely more than a snare for accompaniment. It's not all sheen and minimalism, mind. The old 3-string gets let out to play it raw as some fowl's gizzards with the nasty guitar finding expression to the nasty bug on 'Chiggers', of which only really hot water can wash away, with Steve singing “...I wear my socks up to my knees/ they still make a motel out of me...”, and lightning moments come with the menacing strut of wino humdinger 'Thunderbird' acting like a drunk behind the wheel, and 'St Louis Slim' rattles and hums like a rumbling old freight.
Having played in Lightin' Hopkins and John Lee Hooker's bands, further testament to his new-found stature comes with backing from Nick Cave on 'Just Like A King' with a cool and understated reworking of the blues standard 'King Bee', and Ruby Turner duets on the honky-tonkin' cakewalk-funkin' negro-spiritual of 'Happy Man' with our Steve a deadringer for love. Elsewhere, a dedication to a faithful pooch comes in the guise of 'One True' with tambourine rattles and bluesy-noodling, as the swinging, soulful title track 'I Started Out With Nothing and I've Still Got Most Of It Left' shows the benefits of a french polish. Steve tells tales of a good-natured hobo on the smooth 'Walking Man', while boredom may be the motive for penning 'Prospect Lane' with the resultant Kentucky swing anything but.
The closing undying flame of 'My Youth' is particularly affecting, speaking volumes in its' wisdom - “Well it's gone/ oh my youth is gone/ yeah, walked/ oh down the road...”, as Steve ruminates over the memories. Seasick Steve ain't no snake-oil salesman, though he probably knows someone who can help ya out. The genuine article, bugs 'n' all. It's all good.
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