mother lode is. Each of these records is a superlative example of its genre.

Boozoo Chavis is the pick of the litter. The album is a definitive performance from one of the few remaining links to the original roots of zydeco. Chavis is a purist whose accordion playing doesn't correspond to standard configurations of meter and song structure. When one of his sons, who plays in the band with him, complained about Boozoo's unusual approach to "Forty One Days," he replied: "If it's wrong, do it wrong, y'know wit' me, follow me. If I'm wrong, you wrong, too.... I can't promise you it gonna be like it was, but I can promise you it gonna be better."

Unlike many other zydeco players who have incorporated external influences to make the music more commercial, Chavis treats every performance like a Saturday-night bayou fish fry. The emotional fire of his delivery collars his listeners and puts them in a dancing mood, urged on by his shouted lyrics, barked out in a Creole patois of French, English and, well, animal noises. "Zydeco Hee Haw," a mule-calling holler adapted to zydeco, brings the whole family to a whistling, howling frenzy as the infectious beat rattles the floor.

The fun doesn't stop with Boozoo, either. Saxophonist Vernard Johnson's record goes about as far as gospel music can venture without taking the plunge into secularism. Johnson doesn't mind remaking the pop-gospel hits "Oh Happy Day" and "Wade in the Water"; he admits that his brand of gospel has more than just a little in common with the blues in his introduction to "When Troubles Burden Me Down"; and he invokes the soul of King Curtis on the funk strut "Lord Help Me to Hold Out." The backup vocalists may be singing "Hallelujah" on "Call Him on My Horn," but Johnson sounds like he's playing a wilder rendition of "Soul Makossa."

Charlie Feathers is a rockabilly legend, one of the original Sun artists and a major influence on Elvis Presley's early career. Perhaps in part because of his unique vocal delivery, which runs a bizarre range from the bass growls of Johnny Cash to the high-register hiccups of Buddy Holly, Feathers has never really caught on, despite making records for various independent labels over the last forty years. This collection showcases his strengths masterfully. Feathers finger-pops his way through "When You Come Around," delivers a medium-tempo trucker's tearjerker in "Pardon Me Mister," w