Johnny Sansone, Sonny Landreth, and the Bonerama horn section are just some of the impressive friends who give their blessing to this Delaware slide-blues axe man, and he responds on his latest album—not his debut, but his first as a member of a stripped down “power trio”—by doing a pretty fair job of capturing the swampy feel of the region in question.

You’ve come across these cultural touchstones before: crawfish and rice, singing and dancing in the streets, walking the levee, living in the Quarter. But Pierce’s guitar, which he learned direct from Sonny, is plenty authentic, and the addition of Waylon Thibodeaux on fiddle doesn’t hurt.

Pierce’s vocals are weak and wobbly to hold center stage, especially against the kind of firepower this band puts out (the second lines, rockers, and shuffles are equally tight).

It’s not that noticeable on Landreth’s “Zydecoldsmobile” or Sansone’s “Give Me a Dollar,” but oddly enough, the sheer plaintive quality of his amateurishness is kind of appealing in spots, like when he’s telling the tale of a homeless, guitar-playing vet on “Tojo” or on the hard-rock stomp of the best cut, the epic goodbye “Rooster.”