Sneezy Waters’ Live: A Raw, Heartfelt Journey Through Folk, Blues, and Beyond
If you’re a fan of music that feels like it was born in the backroom of a dimly lit pub—where stories are traded as freely as pints—you’ll want to give Sneezy Waters’ 2017 album Live a spin. This self-released gem from Canada is steeped in folk, world, country, and blues traditions, with a lineup of musicians who clearly know how to make magic happen on stage. The credits read like a tight-knit family: Ann Downey on bass, Peter Beaudoin holding down the drums, Dave Bignell shredding guitar duties, Ed Bimm tickling the keys, and Marc Parizeau capturing every note behind the soundboard. Oh yeah, and Sneezy himself? He’s out front, delivering vocals and acoustic guitar work that feel equal parts gritty and soulful.
Now, let me tell ya—this isn’t some slick, overproduced studio record. It’s live, warts and all, which makes it feel alive. Like, really alive. You can almost smell the sweat and hear the clinking glasses from the crowd. And when an album has tracks like “Visions of Johanna” and “Drown In My Own Tears,” it’s hard not to sit up and take notice.
Take “Visions of Johanna,” for example. If you’ve ever heard Dylan’s original, you know it’s no small feat to tackle this one. But Sneezy Waters doesn’t just cover it—he owns it. His voice cracks just enough to remind you he’s human, while Dave Bignell’s guitar weaves these haunting little riffs that stick in your brain long after the song ends. There’s something about the way Waters stretches out certain lines, almost like he’s savoring each word. By the time they hit the final chorus, you might find yourself staring off into space, lost in thought. It’s heavy stuff, man.
Then there’s “Drown In My Own Tears.” This track flips the vibe entirely, leaning hard into blues territory. The rhythm section—Ann Downey’s basslines paired with Peter Beaudoin’s steady drumming—is so solid you could build a house on it. And Ed Bimm’s keyboard work? Damn near hypnotic. When Waters sings about heartbreak here, you believe him. He sounds like someone who’s been through the wringer but still finds the strength to belt it out anyway. It’s raw, emotional, and honestly? Kinda beautiful.
The rest of the album keeps the momentum going, mixing covers (“Sultans of Swing,” anyone?) with originals that showcase Waters’ knack for storytelling. Tracks like “Louis Riel” bring Canadian history to life, while others, like “Deportee,” tap into universal themes of loss and longing. Every song feels intentional, like it earned its spot in the setlist.
Here’s the thing: listening to Live feels less like putting on an album and more like stumbling into a private concert where everyone knows the words except you. It’s messy, heartfelt, and full of character. Maybe too much character at times—it ain’t perfect, but maybe it doesn’t need to be.
So if you’re looking for polished pop or radio-friendly hits, this probably ain’t your jam. But if you dig music that tells a story, scratches deep beneath the surface, and leaves a little dirt under your fingernails, then Sneezy Waters’ Live deserves a spot in your collection. Honestly, I didn’t expect to love it as much as I do. Guess sometimes the best albums sneak up on ya when you least expect it.
