JOHN NÉMETH
Love Me Tonight
(Blind Pig)
By Todd Lavoie
Given the frugality of the blues as an art form, it seems only fair that I introduce Bay Area harmonica-slinging bluesman John Németh without a single wasted word: the man can sing. Sure, he breathes plenty of soul and fire into that harp of his, but ultimately it's his voice which makes the most indelible impact - moving nimbly from growl to howl to full-bellied hoot 'n' holler, sometimes within the same bar, it's a tremendous instrument.
Even more impressive: the vocalist, only in his early 30s, delivers with a level of authority expected from someone much older. Considering that the blues places such a deep emphasis on breadth of life experience, Németh's ability to sound older than his actual age is a valuable asset. That being said, it's his extensive vocal range which gets noticed first; coming across as a young scrapper in one moment and a wizened front-stoop sage in the next, he certainly can surprise.
Lastly, in a genre in which authenticity is highly prized, it's worth noting that Németh's compositions feel - to put it simply - very real. The disc could easily - and understandably - be mistaken for a collection of covers of '50s and '60s southern R&B and blues jukebox numbers, but lo and behold, a quick scan of the liner notes reveals that only a single track dates from that period. Everything else here was written by the star of this show.
Confession time: I know very little about contemporary blues artists. My tastes lean heavily towards the classic old blues touchstones (John Lee Hooker, Howlin' Wolf, Robert Johnson), and the current crop of rough-and-ready rabble-rousers messin' with the notion of blues (the Black Keys, the White Stripes, Holly Golightly), and some of the British Invasion stuff in between. For this reason, I can't come up with very many contemporary reference points for what Németh is doing, but one name does spring to mind: James Hunter.
Much like the current leading English proponent of classic '50s/'60s R&B, Németh also specializes in faithfully evoking that golden era. Love Me Tonight is bestowed with a crisp, uncluttered production, rich in trebly goodness. The rhythms - courtesy of drummer June Core and bassist Kedar Roy - are forceful but not overpowering, and Bobby Welsh's guitar work is a lovely counterpart for the soulful testimonials on offer here. The occasional use of a backing-vocal trio does a fine job of recreating a classic Southern vibe - some horns would have been perfect.
Overall, it's a quite convincing immersion into an older era, which makes the contemporary-looking album cover a bit of a surprise, to be honest. Not that big of a deal, mind you, but worth mentioning in view of the fact that some folks do take things at face value.
The opening title track is a thumping, hot-and-bothered celebration of "getting back to the basics of love," flush with glowing organ whirrs (Bobby Welsh) and a few rowdy falsetto howls from Németh - a fun introduction, but its followup is considerably stronger. "Just Like You" prowls and shuffles with a hi-hat-heavy hip-wiggling rhythm and a stalking bassline - and the chicken-scratch guitar funk at the song's end is wonderfully greasy. Németh's yelps and woos bristle with emotion, much like they do throughout the disc - but here, it is the harmonica which steals the show, thanks to a dazzling slow-building solo which heightens the drama by duking it out with the drummer.
"Fuel for Your Fire," with its swinging midtempo roll and sparkling keyboard give-and-take, is pure Dixie gospel soul - the addition of the backing trio helps immeasurably, but even without them the song would be one of the disc's most stirring moments. Németh's lead here is smooth and inspired, warm and tender, offering words of wisdom and comfort to those in moments of struggle and strife:
"When you get sick, throw it in the fire
When you get tricked, throw it in the fire
When your heart aches, throw it in the fire
When you miss your breaks, throw it in the fire
...and watch it burn."
A couple of the more straightforward electric blues numbers - "Where You Been" and "Love Gone Crazy" - aren't so much my cup of tea, but that might just be a reflection of my own personal preferences. However, I loved the disc's remake of "She's My Heart's Desire," an old chestnut from the late-'50s/early '60s gospel/R&B group the Falcons. Németh's on fire here, howling and crooning with conviction over a spot-on doo-wop backing trio. Welsh's jittery, jagged electric guitar repartee helps immensely as well, and his now-or-never piano accompaniment elevates the melodrama further.
As much of an anomaly as it is compared to the rest of the disc, "Daughter of the Devil" benefits from nicely echoed vocal treatments and a rumbling, low-bubbling shaker-powered rhythm - the results are alluringly swampy. Lastly, with its easygoing electric piano and guitar call-and-response serving as a reflective backdrop for Németh's soulful tenor, "My Troubled Mind" evokes a little bit of early Van Morrison, circa Moondance (Warner Bros., 1970). And how's this for a bluesy couplet: "I need time to meditate / or self-medicate."
I couldn't find any video footage relating to Love Me Tonight, but here's a clip of Németh performing the title track from his previous album, Magic Touch (Blind Pig, 2007):
JOHN NÉMETH
Feb. 27, 8 and 10 p.m., $22
Yoshi's
510 Embarcadero West, Oakl.
(510) 238-9200
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