Joe Louis Walker is the John Henry of the blues, a guy who works hard and isn't afraid to put his back into his music. Hornet's Nest is the man's tenth studio album since the dawn of the 21st century, and not a few journeyman bluesmen would be very, very happy to come up with a session this strong and diverse with twice the time to prepare. Walker and his band are in tight, ferocious form on Hornet's Nest, with Walker's blazing lead guitar work supported by Reese Wynans' rollicking keyboards, Rob McNelley's able second guitar, Tommy MacDonald's rock-solid bass, and Tom Hambridge's aggressive but tasteful drumming. The song list is eclectic, ranging from the hard-edged rock-leaning sound of the title cut, the psychedelic flourishes of "Not in Kansas Anymore," and the soulful, horn-fortified strut of "All I Wanted to Do" to the gospel-influenced moods of "Keep the Faith" and the down-home slide guitar showcase "I'm Gonna Walk Outside." And Walker's taste in covers is commendable, adding doo wop-style vocals to Jesse Stone's "Don't Let Go" and turning the Rolling Stones' "Ride On, Baby" into a roadhouse rocker whose twin-keyboard attack recalls Bruce Springsteen's E-Street Band.

Just as the title implies, Raw is Bobby Rush at his most elemental: a man, his acoustic guitar, and his foot stamping out a beat on an amplified board. A little harmonica now and then, and a Dobro played with a bottleneck slide on the rollicking "Glad to Get You Back," but that's it for ornamentation. Although most of 13 songs are Rush originals, he also essays three standards, Larry Williams' early rock classic "Boney Maroney," Muddy Waters' "Good Morning Little Schoolgirl," and – fearlessly – "Howlin' Wolf" itself, which he slows down into a funereal dirge. Rush calls his music "folk funk," but in reality, Rush is the modern equivalent of the first country bluesmen, before the moves to Memphis and Chicago added full-band arrangements and electricity. But Rush isn't a hidebound traditionalist attempting to resurrect a past form for its own sake; Raw crackles with the energy of a musician who knows that he's working in the style that best suits his own personal gifts. This is a hundred times more listenable than yet another blues band plodding through a set of tenth-generation rewrites of "Sweet Home Chicago," and could well be the blues recording of 2007.

Whoa. There are many Etta James collections out there. The standard-bearers thus far have been the Chess Box and the Essential Etta James. This set attempts to do something else and goes deep into her catalog to dig out the gems from her years with Modern, Argo, Cadet, Chess, Warner Brothers, Island, and Private Music/BMG, and presents the full spectrum of her five-decade career. As such, there are many different kinds of songs here revealing the complexity of the vocalist herself, and as such, thus becomes a real portrait of the artist. Juxtapose, for instance, early sides like "The Wallflower Dance (Dance With Me Henry)," with its wild R&B bravado and the deep soul-blues of "All I Could Do Is Cry," the balladry of "The Man I Love," the bone-crushing blues of "The Sky Is Crying," and the torch song ballad technique on "My Dearest Darling," and the despairing soul inherent in songs such as "All the Way Down," and the listener begins to get an idea of just how vast and deep James talent really is. These 23 cuts give a fine and full picture of all that diversity without sacrificing a note of quality.

Bobby Rush got dirty on 2013's Down in Louisiana but with 2014's Decisions, he returns to his slick blues-funk ways, but this doesn't mean it's a rote affair by any means. He has teamed up with the band Blinddog Smokin' and, for the first time in his career, recorded with fellow Louisiana legend Dr. John. Mac Rebennack shows up on the opening "Another Murder in New Orleans," a deeply soulful and searching portrait of the violence that often plagues the Big Easy but, really, that's the only instance when good times aren't on Rush's mind. He leers about being a "Funky Old Man" and winks about what happens on "Bobby Rush's Bus," two songs that set the pace and attitude for much of the rest of Decisions.

As the title suggests, this is the definitive edition of Etta James' Tell Mama long-player. For this single-disc release the original album is augmented with five previously unissued tracks – documented during James' four Muscle Shoals sessions circa '67-'68. The question of why a rural Alabama town became a conduit for some of the most memorable and instantly identifiable grooves may still be up for debate. The evidence exists in droves and Tell Mama could certainly be considered exhibit A. These sessions feature the same impact that would redirect several first ladies of soul. Notable among them are Dusty Springfield's Dusty in Memphis, Aretha Franklin's I Never Loved a Man (The Way I Love You) and to somewhat lesser acclaim, Jackie DeShannon's Jackie. Tell Mama showcases some of the unique and admittedly darker qualities of what might best be described as R&B noir. "I'd Rather Go Blind," "Steal Away," "I'm Gonna Take What He's Got" all exemplify the essence of the blues – making the best of a bad situation.

Come a Little Closer is a surprisingly effective mating of a distinctive singer with seemingly incongruous material and production. Helmed by Gabriel Mekler, who'd produced Steppenwolf and Three Dog Night, the record features Etta James supported by a slew of hotshot L.A. session men (including Little Feat's Lowell George). The song selection ranges from "St. Louis Blues" to Randy Newman's perverse "Let's Burn Down the Cornfield" to the dramatic, melismatic "Feeling Uneasy," in which the junk-hungry James improvised wordlessly over an otherwise blues progression. Here's more evidence that Etta is one of the most versatile vocalists of her era.

Leonard Chess dispatched Etta James to Muscle Shoals in 1967, and the move paid off with one of her best and most soul-searing Cadet albums. Produced by Rick Hall, the resultant album boasted a relentlessly driving title cut, the moving soul ballad "I'd Rather Go Blind," and sizzling covers of Otis Redding's "Security" and Jimmy Hughes' "Don't Lose Your Good Thing," and a pair of fine Don Covay copyrights. The skin-tight session aces at Fame Studios really did themselves proud behind Miss Peaches.

Robert Cray always flirted with gritty Southern soul, but it wasn't until Sweet Potato Pie that he made a full-fledged soul-blues record in Memphis. Cray hasn't abandoned blues, but he's woven punchy horns and sexy rhythms into the mix, resulting in one of his stronger records of the '90s. The material remains a bit uneven, but his taste is impeccable – few blues guitarists are as succinct and memorable as he, and the soul settings of Sweet Potato Pie only confirm that fact.

On his second album for the Concord Jazz label, guitarist Robben Ford stays pretty much to the formula of Blue Moon from 2001. He concentrates on playing, singing, and covering great songs (and even writes a few) with interesting arrangements, inspired solos, and crisp, clean production that lets the song shine through the players. Much has been made of Ford's eclecticism and that is reflected in his choice of material here, though he never strays from the blues or R&B into jazz or fusion. Ford's selection of session players reflects his divergent interests as well: Edgar Winter appears on saxophone, while John Mayall and Ivan Neville guest along with horn bosses Bob Malach and Dan Fornero and Ford's road band. Opening the set with the title track, written by soul man Jackie Edwards, Ford lays out his formula immediately: a tight horn chart for tenor and baritone saxes, as well as trumpet; a crystal clear, expressive vocal delivery; and Ford's signature stinging guitar in the solo break lifts proceedings off on the up tip.

Much can be said about the late Amy Winehouse, one of the U.K.'s flagship vocalists during the 2000s. The British press and tabloids seemed to focus on her rowdy behavior, heavy consumption of alcohol, and tragic end, but fans and critics alike embraced her rugged charm, brash sense of humor, and distinctively soulful and jazzy vocals. Her platinum-selling breakthrough album, Frank (2003), elicited comparisons ranging from Billie Holiday and Sarah Vaughan to Macy Gray and Lauryn Hill. Interestingly enough, despite her strong accent and vernacular, one can often hear aspects of each of those singers' vocal repertoires in Winehouse's own voice. Nonetheless, her allure had always been her songwriting – almost always deeply personal but best known for its profanity and brutal candor.

This time, Cray veered back toward the blues (most convincingly, too), even covering Albert King's "You're Gonna Need Me" and bemoaning paying taxes on the humorous "1040 Blues." Unlike his previous efforts, Cray produced this one himself. Also, longtime bassist Richard Cousins was history, replaced by Karl Sevareid.

24bit digitally remastered Japanese limited edition issue of the album classic in a deluxe, miniaturized LP sleeve replica of the original vinyl album artwork. According to his biographer, Charles Sawyer, this is King's personal favorite among his recordings. Unlike most of his albums from this period (which are mostly collections of singles), this was recorded in one session and takes him out of his usual big-band setting, using only bass, drums, and piano for accompaniment. The result is a masterpiece: a sparse, uncluttered sound with nothing to mask King's beautiful guitar and voice. "You Done Lost Your Good Thing Now" (its unaccompanied guitar intro is a pure distillation of his style), "Mr. Pawn Broker," "Someday Baby" (R&B Top Ten, 1961), "Walkin' Dr. Bill," and a great version of "Drivin' Wheel" are highlights.

Robert Cray adds a bit more soul to the mix on this album, which features the Memphis Horns most prominently. Most of the songs are Cray doing what Cray does best–slow, soulful, done-me-wrong (or, alternatively, I-done-wrong) songs chock full of great guitar. No complaints there, and when he adds a bit of vocal growl here and there, as on the album opener "The Forecast (Calls for Pain)" (also featuring some excellent bass from Richard Cousins), and the slow shuffle "Holdin' Court," it keeps things interesting. This album indicates a slight shift in Cray's direction; although he's always included a touch of soul in his blues, here it's more pronounced than before, a tendency he continued in subsequent recordings.

The set that made Cray a pop star, despite its enduring blues base. Cray's smoldering stance on "Smoking Gun" and "Right Next Door" rendered him the first sex symbol to emerge from the blues field in decades, but it was his innovative expansion of the genre itself that makes this album a genuine 1980s classic. "Nothing but a Woman" boasts an irresistible groove pushed by the Memphis Horns and some metaphorically inspired lyrics, while "I Wonder" and "Guess I Showed Her" sizzle with sensuality.