Album Review: Program Blues by Hue's Blues Band
Alright, buckle up, folks. We’re diving into Program Blues, the 1980 gem from Hue's Blues Band that slid out of the US on Orange Records Ltd. If you’re a fan of raw, soulful blues with just enough grit to make your ears perk up like a curious dog, this one’s for you.
First off, let’s talk about “Solidarity.” Man, this track hits like a well-aimed spitball in a high school classroom—unexpected but oddly satisfying. The groove is tight, and Hue’s vocals? They’ve got that lived-in rasp that makes you feel like he’s been through some stuff. You know, the kind of stuff where life hands you lemons, and instead of lemonade, you make a blues album. It’s catchy without being cheesy, and the guitar solo near the end feels like it’s having its own private conversation with your soul. I remember this track because it’s impossible not to tap your foot to it—even if you’re sitting in a library trying to look all studious.
Then there’s the title track, “Program Blues.” Oh boy, does this one slap. It’s got that slow-burn vibe, like when you realize halfway through Monday morning that you’ve still got four more days till Friday. The lyrics are clever—Hue sings about getting stuck in routines and systems (relatable much?), and the harmonica wails like it’s mourning lost weekends. What sticks with me here isn’t just how smooth the instrumentation is; it’s the way the song sneaks up on you. One minute you’re nodding along, and the next thing you know, you’re staring out the window thinking deep thoughts about capitalism or something equally pretentious.
Now, I won’t lie—the rest of the album doesn’t quite hit these highs consistently. A couple tracks feel like filler, as though they were written during a caffeine shortage. But hey, even an uneven blues record has charm. That’s kinda the point of the genre, right? Imperfection is part of the package deal.
So, would I recommend Program Blues? Absolutely. It’s not perfect, but it’s real—and sometimes real trumps perfect every time. Plus, who can resist an album cover that looks like someone spilled orange juice on a black-and-white photo?
Final thought: Listening to this album made me wonder if Hue ever tried programming computers back in the '80s. Something tells me he’d have cursed at his Commodore 64 just as passionately as he cursed at life in these songs. Either way, props to him for turning those frustrations into gold—or should I say, grooves.
