Eric Bibb has often proven that he never stops reinventing himself. But with One Mississippi, he reaches another level and touches the sublime. At 73, he still manages to reinvent a style one might have thought locked into well-established codes. A true favorite for Blues Actu.
With One Mississippi, Eric Bibb offers himself a new (and eternal) youth by reconnecting with the deep roots of the South and bringing his own vision of freedom and redemption. The Mississippi is a guiding thread, almost a character of its own, a symbol of time passing. The river carries the pains of the past but also the promise of renewal.
From the title track, a cover of a song by Janis Ian and Fred Koller, Eric Bibb sets a tone that is both solemn and luminous. “One Mississippi is a long time, gone in the blink of an eye”. Behind this expression, he reminds us that we must remember before we can move forward. Muddy Waters extends this metaphor of the river and the journey: “Things ain’t exactly like they used to be, but I’m still blue”.
But One Mississippi is far from a collection of laments. With No Clothes On, he offers a groovy, almost mischievous break. “You’re struttin’ down the street like the boss, with no clothes on”. The tone is slightly mocking, the rhythm upbeat, but the message is clear: the vanity of power, the blindness of those who govern… without seeing. The song This One Don’t – the first single – is also a small masterpiece. Driven by the fiery slide guitar of Robbie McIntosh, the inspired harmonica of Greger Andersson and the voices of Shaneeka Simon and Sara Bergkvist Scott, Eric Bibb delivers a joyful, unifying track on a single chord. “Some songs have fascinating rhythms. Some swing, some don’t. Some have complicated melodies… This one doesn’t. One string is enough.” he had already told us in a previous article.
Then comes Crossroads Marilyn Monroe, one of the highlights of the album. A poignant song revisiting the tragedy of Emmett Till, a 14-year-old African-American boy murdered in 1955 in Mississippi after being falsely accused of harassing a white woman, Carolyn Bryant. It is precisely through her perspective that Eric Bibb confronts real America with mythical America, the one of icons like Marilyn Monroe. Behind the shine of a nation that manufactures legends, he reminds us that only truth, even late, can soothe wounds.
Finally, the last songs bring us back to the essentials: gratitude, peace, transmission. If You’re Free and Waiting on the Sun sound like prayers filled with hope. Because, as always with Eric Bibb, the blues doesn’t cry, it smiles.
The production by Glen Scott remains sober, clear, almost intimate. Nothing distracts from the warm, deep and fraternal voice. One might think they’re hearing a man alone on a Delta porch, but behind him echoes an entire people.
With One Mississippi, Eric Bibb gives us the feeling that he is still writing an essential page in the history of the blues and gives us the privilege of witnessing it. Blues as an art of living, an art of surviving, an art of loving.
