3 Stages of the White-Boy Blues

The foundation of all worth-while rock and most pop music is the blues. It’s been a long time since anyone asked the question whether white boys (or girls) can sing them – the blues have been grafted onto all modern musicians’ DNA. Three recent releases offer three very different versions of the blues sung Caucasian-style.

The BLACK KEYS are two guys (guitar and drums) in their early 30s. From Akron, Ohio, they record in home studios or in abandoned warehouses using an engineering style dubbed “Mid-Fi” – until now, that is.

Their new one, “ATTACK AND RELEASE,” is a far cry from the skronky assaults and batteries that were their first several records. Not that they’ve gotten slick or anything. No, Danger Mouse, part of the Gnarls Barkley syndicate and mad scientist-creator of the Gorillaz’ latest, produces here and adds a new vibe rather than a makeover.

Instead of wall-to-wall grittiness there’s a fluidity, a dream-like flow that’s still got plenty, plenty soul in the form of jagged lick-dominated songs like “I Got Mine,” “Strange Times” and “Remember When (Side B).” (And even those have sonic touches that add to rather than detract from the pummeling riffage.)

Keyboards, female backing vocals, the occasional weird bleep, a disembodied flute and a cameo from the guitar-god Marc Ribot are surprising and useful innovations.

Reportedly started in collaboration with Ike Turner (who died before completion), “Attack and Release” should be listened to in total rather than piecemeal.

Truly a sum of its parts, the album is the epitome of a “grower,” having revealed its splendors only after its fifth or sixth play. Cuts like “Lies,” “Remember When (Side A)” and “So He Won’t Break” win one over with time and repetition and then camp out in the mind with squatters’ rights intentions.

Caution, though: if this is your first Black Keys record and you want to explore earlier ones, be prepared for the shock of the primitive.

Primitive is not in SONNY LANDRETH’S repertoire. No, this Acadiana native (56 now, wow), gets his thing going with a wholly individual slide guitar style that allows him to play chords behind his slide. His heat is the kind generated by virtuosity and the smarts to keep it grounded in rhythmically-varied blues.

His latest, “FROM THE REACH,” has all the trappings of a career summit. On every cut but two he’s joined by one or more of the following: Eric Clapton, Eric Johnson, Robben Ford, Mark Knopfler, Jimmy Buffet, Vince Gill and Dr. John! But it doesn’t come off as a dreaded “duets” album (recall the dreadful Sinatra and Bennett debacles) since all of these guys mesh with Landreth’s voice and style and all the cuts are originals instead of covers.

This batch is his strongest set ever, too. From zydeco-flavored ravers to the introspective and gorgeous “Let It Fly,” Landreth offers nothing but gold. He might be from Lafayette way, but he’s got plenty to say about Katrina. It’s the good kind of commentary, though: pissed off and articulate.

The guitar fireworks are plenty and super, with only Eric Johnsons collaboration on “The Milky Way Home” leaving me cold (as this wunderkind’s calculated wizardry always does). Eric Clapton and Robben Ford kill on their cuts, and Vince Gill will astonish those who don’t know his guitar skills. Dr. John charms on “Howlin’ Wolf,” and pulls off the neat trick of sounding like an organic part of the band rather than a walk-on (Buffett sings a friendly but off-mike backing vocal on the song – a good thing).

Ain’t nothing simmering about this one – it burns hard and bright from first listen.

There’s enough going on to stave off boredom, though.

Landreth used to play with JOHN HIATT, whose new one, “SAME OLD MAN,” sounds as humdrum as its title. He’s one of my heroes, so that’s a hell of a thing to have to say.

Hiatt recorded it at his home, and it sounds like he was going for a front-porch feeling.

But his voice is cracked and distant on some songs and not on others, so it seems like he was going for that effect. Worse than that, though – this is the weakest group of songs I’ve heard from one of the best songwriters in the universe. There are a few gems though, and I’ll have to pluck them out for isolated play on the MP3, a sad state of affairs indeed.

This record gave me the blues, alright – the kind you need medication to fix.

I’m hoping this is Hiatt’s low point, and that he finds new juice. I heard him in New Orleans about 1 1/2 years ago backed by the North Mississippi Allstars, and he was positively smoking. If you haven’t heard his stuff yet, try “Bring the Family,” “Walk On” or “Ridin’ With the King” for can’t-miss satisfaction.