The good times are over.
I'd seen soul-bluesman Bobby Rush perform at festivals a handful of times, and while I'd laugh at his risque antics, I never quite connected to his music. I had him pegged as a poor man's Latimore. Then I heard 2004's Folkfunk, in which Rush releases his inner John Lee Hooker. The synths are gone and while it's still plenty dirty, not every song is about the sex act. If you see Bobby Rush this summer, I'm sure he'll be glad to sell you an autographed Polaroid and he'll still sing about loving a big fat woman. Folkfunk reveals, however, that behind the clowning is a performer of substantial depth.
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