Virtually every tune on the Capitol set offers brilliant examples of T-Bone's guitar soloing -- by turns driving the band hard on the fast, swinging "jump" numbers, caressing the lines emotionally on slow tunes, telling his story with lively authority at medium tempos. Among the guitar techniques he pioneers here is his trademark use of 9th-chord (and 9th-add-6th) voicings, and his style of "walking" those 9ths into the chord change through half-steps above or below; this would lead directly to Jimmy Nolen's use of the same techniques to define funk rhythm guitar in James Brown's band 20 years later (and in fact, early, pre-James, Nolen recordings show him as a blues player doing letter-perfect renditions of T-Bone's style). These sides also display T-Bone as the source of a number of guitar moves that would become later become signature licks of Chuck Berry's playing: his uses of bent-note double-stops; the classic trick of sliding or bending to the 5th of the scale on the G string, and then immediately playing the same note unslurred on the B; and the way he cycles repeats of the same figure against different parts of the beat to build rhythmic tension and excitement. (Check out the first chorus of his great solo on the driving uptempo "That's Better for Me" -- it could almost be Chuck playing.) There are occasional, perfectly executed uses of sweet tremolo-picked parallel thirds, and of surprising jazzy dissonances -- dig that edgy, almost Monk-ish, raised-tonic lick he hits in "I Know Your Wig Is Gone"!

And of course, there are those subtle, swinging, single-note melody lines, with their instantly recognizable use of the 9 and sharp-9 as alternating high points in snaky, spiralling descending figures -- always unmistakably T-Bone, but somehow always fresh, expressive, and fun to hear. In fact, one of the most remarkable things about T-Bone's soloing is the way he holds your interest while working within a limited number of licks and techniques. There are many now-well known blues guitar moves that are not part of his repertory; his melody lines are shaped almost entirely within one left-hand position (the movable E or F configuration with the root note voiced on the first string, moved to whatever key he is playing the song in), and he makes no use at all of sustained whole-step bends or sustained-and-vibratoed notes, to name just two examples of blues techniques that would become standard by the late '50s. Yet despite the restricted technical vocabulary, T-Bone's solos always fascinate and delight the ear. You know he's playing the same moves in many of the solos, but he always phrases them in a way that's fresh and fascinating, expressive, and beautifully swinging. Again and again, you find yourself moved and captivated by the flow of his lines.

Part of what makes this possible is his superb use of dynamics: he's a real master of the art of shifting through fine degrees of louds and softs within the development of a given chorus, sounding very much like a jazz horn player breathing a little harder or softer to subtly shift the mood. I can't think of another blues guitarist who comes close to equalling him in this respect. Another factor is of course his marvelous, seemingly effortless, sense of swing and syncopation, the way he always plays with and around the beat. And another, harder to pin down but just as real, is the feeling in the lines; up or down, celebrative or contemplative, you always believe the story he's telling with his instrument.

These same qualities of rhythmic swing and expressive nuance are also the hallmarks of T-Bone's warm, satisfying singing style. For one of many brilliant examples, listen to the way he sings the title phrase, "This is a mean old world," in lines 1 and 2 of that great song: he sings the same note on almost every word of the line, but swings or syncopates it a little differently against the beat each time he hits it. It's classic, essential swing, classic African-rooted rhythmic sophistication. It's exactly what he does in his guitar phrasing -- and it sounds like a real person just talking to you about his hard-won experience of the world. This is the greatness of T-Bone's singing. He hasn't got the huge vocal tone and overwhelming dramatic impact of gospel-based shouters like B.B. or Freddie King, but his fabulous time, and the subtle, understated emotional authenticity of his delivery, make him an utterly believable and moving vocalist. His husky, gentle, voice, with its wonderful smoky, jazzy, after-hours tone, can convey effortless sly humor on wry, upbeat numbers like "I Know Your Wig Is Gone," and deep, world-weary resignation on the slow, lowdown blues tunes. "So tired I could cry, I could lay right down and die," he sings in "I'm In An Awful Mood," and we feel the weight of every word. (And then in the last verse, summoning an ounce of hope, he offers a poor man's modest prayer: "Give me food, give me strength, so I can make just one more day." Brothers and sisters, this is the blues.)

A few of the songs T-Bone recorded in this period have gone on to become much-covered blues standards -- "T-Bone Shuffle," "Mean Old World," and of course his all-time classic "Call It Stormy Monday," heard here in its very first performances. But all of the songs -- some of them penned by Walker himself, others by sidemen and musical colleagues, including many fine lyrics by John "Shifty" Henry who also wrote for Louis Jordan -- are excellent, filled with memorable, punchy lines and solid, concise songwriting craft. The lighter tunes are packed with down-home, common-speech wit and humor; all of the songs, funny or sad, ring true to life. Some are particularly creative in their lyric structure, with intriguing, subtle narrative development built into unusual songs like the spare, cinematic "You're My Best Poker Hand" and the ingenious "Long Skirt Baby Blues". Song after song yields up those pithy blues aphorisms that are a T-Bone trademark: "Have fun while you can, 'cause Fate's an awful thing," he cautions us in his hard-partyin' "T-Bone Shuffle." And I love the down-to-earth poetry in his words, as he tries to shore up a failing relationship in "Description Blues": "I'm on the side that's doing the building," he reminds his woman, "not on the wrecking crew."

Great as T-Bone always sounds, the album wouldn't be nearly the masterpiece it is without the brilliant support he gets from his superb crew (or crews) of backing musicians. The light, swinging, and utterly solid feel of pianist Willard McDaniels and drummer Oscar Lee Bradley (both present on almost all of these sides) is a complete delight: they not only lay down a definitive groove to support every song, but answer T-Bone's guitar syncopations with adventurous fills and off-beat accents, matching him so perfectly they seem almost psychically locked in with him. There are also marvelous solos from Teddy Buckner on trumpet, and from tenor sax aces Bumps Myers and Jack McVea. And dig the way T-Bone works with them, integrating his guitar into the horn section for ensemble riffs, becoming the section himself to lay down the hot riff behind Myers' solo on "That's Better for Me," weaving his lines through McDaniels' piano part on "Hard Pain Blues." These are wonderful, mostly under-recognized musicians, and it's a joy to hear them working together so beautifully.

Another great aspect of the Capitol set is the inclusion, on about a third of the tunes, of one, and in a few cases two, alternate takes. On some reissue sets the presence of alternates may seem irritating or redundant, but in this case the very opposite is true: T-Bone and his cats generally play very different solos on the unissued takes, and in many cases the alternates (which I suspect are usually the first takes) are actually substantially hotter than the released versions, with the band playing a little wilder and more freewheeling even if there's a slight glitch in the ending or the lyric line. "Midnight Blues," "Triflin' Woman," "Long Skirt Baby Blues" are all examples of notably hotter alternates; and notice how different T-Bone's wonderful solo is on the out-take of "Go Back to the One You Love." It's also fascinating to hear the group try different versions of the arrangement on the three takes of "Lonesome Woman Blues"; again, the alternates are very exciting even though the issued take is cleaner.

Switching labels in 1950, T-Bone went on to record about the same number of sides for Imperial in the early '50s. This material has now been collected together on the 2-CD reissue set, T-Bone Walker: the Complete Imperial Recordings 1950-54 (EMI CDP 7-96737-2), and it is practically as wonderful as the Capitol package -- filled with lots more great songs, arrangements, and solos, and very highly recommended if one wants a companion volume to follow up on the Capitol set. There's also a very interesting and satisfying single CD, T-Bone Blues (Atlantic 8020-2), made up of material cut for Atlantic in the mid- to late '50s, and including an unusual three-guitar session on which T-Bone trades guitar leads both with jazz stalwart Barney Kessel and with his nephew R.S. Rankin, whose style is uncannily close to his own. But the Capitol/Black & White material still stands as his greatest and most essential work.

T-Bone was by all accounts a wild, flamboyant entertainer whose razor-sharp appearance and onstage performance tricks (doing splits on stage, playing behind his head, etc.) prefigured the later styles of blues and R&B showmen as diverse as Chuck Berry, James Brown, and even Jimi Hendrix. It's a great loss that his live performances of those early years have not been preserved on film; but with a little imagination we can almost believe we are seeing him strut his stuff in those jumping Central Avenue clubs, when we hear his music brought to life in these wonderful, high-spirited, and deeply soulful recordings.