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Typical order times are located within the product description.Īs a continuing collaboration with Chess Records/Universal Records and the estate of Muddy Waters, Third Man Records is proud to announce the reissue of Muddy Waters' fifth studio album Electric Mud. It is not guaranteed.Ī Special Order item is an item that we do not stock but can order from the manufacturer. When an item is Out Of Stock and we have an estimated date when our stock should arrive, we list that date on our website in the part's description. We do not have a specific date when it will be coming.Īwaiting repress titles are in the process of being repressed by the label. The Preorder can be released anywhere between weeks, months or years from its initial announcement.Īn Out Of Stock item is an item that we normally have available to ship but we are temporarily out of. To release "TBA." This means that release date is yet "To Be Announced". If a projected release date is known, we will include this in the description in red. Typically the label will set a projected release date (that is subject to change).
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Whatever the creative mindset here, the tension created by the classic square peg in a round hole paradigm drives this album to its own dimension of excellence.An In Stock item is available to ship normally within 24 business hours.Ī Preorder is an item that has not yet been released. Waters' dislike of the project is well documented, and the probability that he had no more than one take in him, even due purely to disgust and mendacity, is high. On the other hand, "Electric Mud" has that raw, ongoing unfinished feel, overblown as it is. You can tell they were trying for a perfect studio sound to render their beloved R&B retreads but it's too perfect… you don't get that sense like they're locked up in some cheap, roasting hot garage studio at three o'clock in the morning, running outta smokes, overeager from the "pep" pills and booze, only enough in them to totally go for it that one time…
#MUDDY WATERS ELECTRIC MUD 1968 LP SERIES#
With over-the-top fuzzed and fazed psych-outs on a few of Muddy's more iconic hits, such as "Mannish Boy" and "Hoochie Coochie Man" this record beats the hell out of similar attempt The London Sessions albums, where Bo Diddley, Chuck Berry and other rhythm and blues colossi were paired up with big-ticket talent like, uh, Bill Wyman & Charlie Watts for a series of functional, though hardly inspirational albums… This song does extra duty for the entertainment-conscious citizen you can either fry out on the inherent meta-ridiculousness of the whole thing, or you can appreciate some true hybridized blues-rock. Trackwise, the big drooler/raver is for sure when Muddy rips into his cover of the Stones' "Let's Spend The Night Together", belting out a hearty, lustful, "DON'T you worry 'bout what's on my mind - I don't wantcha to think about it…" over a wall of overdriven fuzz wailin' guitars that would make Cheech and Chong shit their pants, working in a burgeoning, crunching Lo-Led Zeppelin or Cream-In-A-Can motif just behind the awe-inspiring power-noodling of the twin leads. But since they were also ignoring “Skip” Spence and The Velvet Underground at the same time, what the fuck did they know? Too fucked up for the trad folk blues crowd, too trad folk blues for the fucked up crowd, the record suffered near-abortive sales and was deemed a "failed experiment" by the few that did stop laughing enough to listen to it. Take Muddy out to a field of flowers and photograph him glaring dubiously out from over a flowing white kaftan, love beads gratuitously strung about the famous leathery neck, his unicorn-like conk of processed hair keeping part of it back in 1954 somehow… if Muddy was down with the peace, the love vibration, could your own ultra-square parents be very far behind? It was close but no cheroot… Get the pre-eminent elder statesman of the blues, trip him out, wind him up, and put him in the studio with the finest acid-rock hacks money could buy. Jimi, Blue Cheer, The Ron Wray Light Show, circa squalls of sloppily sculptured noise forced by sheer blown-out will into mind-bending, orgasmic hardrock bliss. Naturally I was immediately thereafter compelled to seek out this hard round black object of potential transcendence: namely, the 1968 "Electric Mud" epic where greedy music moguls tried to shoe-horn our hero into the then burgeoning genre of acid rock. The way I first heard of this album was reading some old interview of Muddy Waters, where he was complaining that this was his worst album, he felt completely degraded making it, selling out, or tryin to sell out, yadda yadda yadda etc., you can imagine the general scene.