dust spread around the bedrock of modern blues variations. Africa and the Delta matter equally on Downhome Sophisticate. Harris' college work included studies of pidgin English, and trips to Cameroon and, recently, Mali have taught him more than a few new ways to turn around a backbeat. He avails himself of a cornucopia of genres, styles and geographical references: Macy Gray could have written "Frankie Doris"; "Sista Rose" conjures up the Nevilles; "Chinook" is the swamp-ambient soundtrack of Miller Lite's dreams; and the title track sounds like it escaped from a George Clinton session, hokey rapping and all.

Strangely enough, Downhome Sophisticate is eclectic the way a Funkadelic album used to be -- what might seem all over the map to you feels right at home to Harris. He and his longtime band mates handle each stylistic leap with a nimble charm and ease; particularly graceful is the multiethnic guitar weaving and bobbing of Harris and Jamal Millner -- both players are as comfortable with slide grit as they are with calypso lace. This is world music with a black American twist, displaying how comfortable in the world a blood knowledgeable of all his roots and assorted branches can be. Too long pigeonholed and boxed in by adoring reactionaries, the blues has been waiting like a left-behind bride for a worldly messenger like Harris to build her her own rainbow bridge.

GREG TATE
(RS 896 - May 23, 2002)