“I say you take about six parts blues and one part county, stir it all up, give it to a poor white Southern boy, and you got yourself some rock ‘n’ roll,” says Gregg Allman, the consummate Southern white boy rock ‘n’ roller.

James Mathus appears to have done just that. He reached back to his rural Mississippi roots, and came up with a 21st-century rock ‘n’ blues album. National Antiseptic is the sophomore follow-up to his exceptional first release, Songs for Rosetta, a touching tribute to his “nanny,” Rosetta Patton, Charlie’s daughter (proceeds went directly to her). Songs for Rosetta was a well-rounded, inbetween-er for Mathus—his tranformation from a Squirrel Nut Zipper back to Jimbo Mathus, good ol’ boy. Songs for Rosetta had everything a good contemporary Delta blues release should have: raw emotion, wry humor, authentic but sophisticated instrumentation, and great song selection.

On National Antiseptic, Mr. Mathus decided to put all pretensions aside and jus’ rock ‘n’ roll. The recording is as raw and raucous as Songs for Rosetta was thoughtful and well-produced. He enlists the help of his North Mississippi Allstars compadres, Cody and Luther Dickinson, and churns out a recording that kicks off in high gear with “Call Your Dawgs Off” and never backs down. Mathus recorded National Antiseptic after working on Buddy Guy’s Sweet Tea CD. He was asked to play for his “raw, Mississippi juke-joint” sound, which also best describes National Antiseptic.

Clever and multi-dimensional, this recording fools you. The first few songs are big reverb, blazing saxophones, and simple chord progressions with Mathus a-hollerin’ the lyrics. Bit by bit, it gets a little more complex and we hear a mandolin-driven two-step, a little gospel, and even some sly swing. This CD is in the best Southern rock ‘n’ blues tradition. These boys sure have fun and make you think they’re just dumb ass rock ‘n’ rollers. A few listens later you’ll find yourself going “wow, that’s some serious playing and singing going on there.”