For a man renowned for his sartorial elegance and the most prudently maintained facial hair in rock, you'd expect One More Car, One More Rider-Eric Clapton's first live album since 1992's zeitgeist-capturing Unplugged set-to be full of well-tailored highlights from his biblically-proportioned (well, some people still call him "God") back-catalogue of bristly, well kempt blues. And of course you'd be absolutely right. Recorded in Los Angeles and Tokyo during his 2001 world tour (the simultaneously released DVD of the same name is taken exclusively from the Los Angeles show) and featuring the musical accompaniment of such luminary hired-hands as Andy Fairweather-Low and Billy Preston, it's an album that serves to satisfy both the Clapton purist (there's a four-song segue of tracks from Pilgrim, shorn of their original anodyne synthesizer embellishments) and the adult popsters who prefer their blues from the decanter rather than the bottle ("Tears In Heaven", a sublime "Bell Bottom Blues" and a rather poised, applause-ridden "Layla"). It's a shame that the solo-slot extemporisations of Reptile-Joe Pass meets George Benson meets Weather Report-arrive a little too early in the main course for the listener to prepare for full-on mastication. And there also remains a minority of people for whom "Wonderful Tonight" is the biggest pre-coital turn-off this side of farting in bed (or "Lady in Red" by Chris de Burgh). However, such pallid flaws are only trifling grievances for One More Car, One More Rider is an engaging live document that finds Clapton far from asleep at the wheel. -Kevin Maidment.

Some folk might be aware of Tucson, Arizona bluesman Rainer Ptacek for his slide guitar work with Howe Gelb's Giant Sand; others for his collaborations with ZZ Top's Billy Gibbons and Frank Beard (under the name of Das Combo). Yet, by far the troubled Czech-German refugee's finest work occurs when he strips it all back down to the bare roots-as on 1992's Worried Spirits, and here. His final studio album before his untimely death on November 2, 1997, Alpaca Lips is composed of 17 tracks of intimate, almost painful beauty. Played solo, aside from on a mellow cover of Stevie Wonder's "Pastime Paradise" where he's backed by two of his Giant Sand bandmates, this is the sound of a man and his dobro fully working. Highlights include the brief "Bo Weavil" which wails and howls with vulnerable passion, and the almost ambient "Horse Hair". Rarely have the delta blues been played with such a gentle, spiritual force. -Jerry Thackray.

After the studio bloat of 1971's The Sun, Moon & Herbs, Gumbo is a tightly focused return to Mac Rebennack-aka Dr John-'s musical roots. His band is full of Louisiana legends (Harold Battiste, Lee Allen) plus lesser known but equally important 'Nawlins heroes: Ronnie Barron, Alvin Robinson, and a wonderful trombonist known simply as Streamline. Together, they rage through a dozen New Orleans classics, not only the work of Professor Longhair and Huey Smith, but also Earl King and Ray Charles, who lived in the Crescent City while leading the house band at the Dew Drop Inn. Many of these songs are closely associated with the 1950s, but Gumbo never sounds forced or nostalgic; it's great work from start to finish. -Keith Moerer.

T-Bone Walker was the founder of electric blues guitar playing. That's not an opinion, it's a fact, attested by later musicians from BB King and Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown on down. What he did, he did within the space of a few years, back at the end of the 1940s, and it is all here, on the four CDs of The Original Source: the original recordings of "Call It Stormy Monday", "T-Bone Shuffle", "Cold, Cold Feeling", "T-Bone Jumps Again" and dozens more. (Ninety tracks, to be precise: his entire issued output up to the end of 1951. ) The primer, the first steps, John and Janet Play Electric Blues. Relaxed yet sharp, chordally sophisticated yet blues-rich, Walker's guitar-playing is matched by his singing: his voice drifts over the surface of the music like cigarette smoke, the delivery lazy, the lyrics pungent. "If a woman says she loves you, that don't mean a thing", he advises Confused of Santa Monica. "Tell her you want a Cadillac car and a great big diamond ring". In the background two or three horns respond with mocking riffs: "Yeah, yeah. Yeah, yeah. [+]

The latest in a series of highly polished albums of good-natured boogie, blues and singer/songwriter fare, Bonnie Raitt's Silver Lining will not disappoint the initiated. Recorded with her highly seasoned road band and co-produced (again) by the ubiquitous Mitchell Froom and Tchad Blake, this is a high-quality product. The question, as always, is whether the material raises it to the level of extraordinary. Raitt picks songs shrewdly; here, the unearthed gems are David Gray's title song and the closing ballad, "Wounded Heart", by Jude Johnson. Less successful and more familiar are the songs co-written with her bandmates. Instrumentally, the highlights include Bonnie's slide duel with Roy Rogers on "Gnawin' It" and Andy Abad's highlife guitar chops on Oliver Mtukudzi's "Hear Me Lord". Jon Cleary's barrelhouse keys throughout owe a debt to Billy Payne of Little Feat. One may occasionally wish the producers had been allowed more rein to pepper the arrangements with their trademark quirky instrumentation, but the record rewards repeated listens. -Rob Stewart.