What I’d like to do here is talk about production. Most roots CDs are recorded with all the digital bells and whistles afforded to modern bands, and while I’m not one of those audiophiles that think everything sounds better on wax, there is a notable difference between music that’s meant to be big and brash and music that simply doesn’t need that sort of slickness.

This brings us to Rusty Zinn’s new CD, Confessin’. Unlike a lot of roots CDs, it sounds very close to the era it invokes-vocals up front, drums you can hear the room in, guitar that spirals over the walls. Zinn’s sort of swingers’ stroll-and-shuffle blues demands low-fi, and here it is. Were it not for the release dare, you could almost fool someone into thinking this was some unearthed gem from the vaults.

I don’t know how such a thing is done in 1998, in San Francisco, yet, but let’s enjoy it, shall we’ Zinn’s impossibly clear and agile voice is bent in pain – just as often as his Luther Tucker-esque guitar licks. When was the last time you heard a white man on the wrong side of his Thirties belt out “Best Of Luck Baby” or Johnny Otis’ “If You Ever Get Lonesome” with such authority?

Okay, so the Zinn originals aren’t quite the equal of the covers, but when Zinn gets too close to the mic, and he threatens to brown the whole place out with passion, he still sounds like a future master. Rusty, indeed.