Irma Thomas has been long known as “The Soul Queen of New Orleans.” It only takes a listen to understand why. Debuting on record in 1959, she’s recorded a bunch since, and if she never hit the commercial peaks attained by a few of her soulful counterparts, there was no shortage of standout work. This includes later releases like After the Rain, which came out in 2006 and delivered Thomas her first Grammy Award. Initially issued by Rounder Records, the album features a talented band and wide-ranging material, and if often described as a response to Hurricane Katrina, the contents retain an appealing freshness. The record hits vinyl for the first time July 31 through Craft Recordings.
Like many singers from the classic soul era, Irma Thomas was served best by singles. This shouldn’t imply that she didn’t get some albums in the racks; it’s just that until her career resurgence in the 1980s, most of them were compilations. On wax, the best of the bunch is probably the Kent label’s Time Is on My Side. Issued in 1983, it draws from her sessions for Minit and Imperial, though Sings is of the same vintage and was reissued on vinyl by Mississippi in 2015.
Time Is on My Side was expanded on CD in 1996, that version vying with Razor & Tie’s Sweet Soul Queen of New Orleans as the strongest collection of Irma Thomas’ ’60s material (the latter is available digitally as the generically named Irma Thomas Collection: 1961-1966, except it’s missing one track). Unsurprisingly, there are a few other comps using Soul Queen of New Orleans as the title, including a pretty good 2CD on Charly; the second disc of that one is a likeable performance from the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival in April 1976 (released that year by Island as Live).
Like a lot of musicians who’d experienced moderate commercial success in the 1960s, Thomas suffered a rough stretch in the decade following. After Hurricane Camille in 1969 (the second most devastating hurricane to strike the US on record) she moved to California, first to Oakland and later Los Angeles, and then took a job at retailer Montgomery Ward.
Thomas did cut a single for Cotillion in ’71. The a-side titles Full Time Woman (The Lost Cotillion Album) (put out by Real Gone on CD in 2014), an enjoyable archival set illuminating how her association with the subsidiary of Atlantic Records, still a soul powerhouse at that point, curiously didn’t bear fruit. The underrated In Between Tears came out in ’73 on the Fungus label, produced by Swamp Dogg with an uncredited Duane Allman on two tracks, but it fell through the cracks in a big way (reissued by Alive Naturalsound in 2013).
A couple more studio albums came out as the ’70s barreled forth including a reportedly terrible stab at disco, but from there, Thomas concentrated on live performance until hooking up with Rounder in the mid-’80s. Over two decades later, After the Rain was issued by Rounder, which should underscore the health of the relationship, with the Grammy win sealing the deal.
That she won for Best Contemporary Blues Album is a crucial distinction, but those (like me) who first heard Thomas through her classic “It’s Raining” in Jim Jarmusch’s film Down By Law need not worry, as there’s no shortage of full-bodied soulfulness, with the gospel root well-represented in the album’s fertile equation.
Indeed, After the Rain opens with a sweet version of Arthur Alexander’s “In the Middle of It All,” which nicely blends the urbane, courtesy of Dave Torkanowsky’s electric piano, with classic sturdiness, via James Singleton’s upright bass (heard on all but two of the 13 tracks). The slide guitar of Sonny Landreth does bring a bluesy aura, but one that suggests the mature sensibility of Bonnie Raitt. “Flowers” ups the blues quotient considerably as Dirk Powell’s fiddle drives home that Thomas is from Louisiana, and that her home state neighbors Texas.
What I dig about “Flowers” is that it’s rootsy as hell without pushing too far into the realms of the gutbucket and in turn losing track of Thomas’ abilities, which tend toward finesse rather than pure belting. A fine example is her splendid reading of “I Count the Tears”; while the Drifters’ version is iconic, Thomas brings it a level of warm sophistication while never sacrificing heft.
The backing vocals are the icing on the cake, but not excessively sugary, the better to segue into blues standard “Make Me a Pallet on the Floor,” here offered with considerable rhythmic kick (Stanton Moore is the drummer for the album), in contrast to the gentleness of Mississippi John Hurt. Overall, the vibe strikes me as Americana moderne, with Dirk Powell’s banjo mingling with more of Torkanowsky’s electric piano.
The next cut, “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free,” famed as a civil rights anthem written by Billy Taylor (notably recorded by Nina Simone), swings us into Spiritual territory (rich with churchy organ) as Thomas’ strength and confidence at the microphone insures focus amid the stylistic breadth. With this said, “If You Knew How Much” really hits a gospel-soul plateau before returning to the bluesy with a slide guitar-infused take of the standard “Another Man Done Gone” (very reminiscent here of “Baby Please Don’t Go”).
Interestingly, Thomas chose “Till I Can’t Take It Anymore” for the album, another song previously sung by Ben E. King (he was a Drifter, don’tcha know), with the vocalists similar in style; both serve up an abundance of verve lacking in grit but not too polished. This approach really takes flight in “These Honey Dos,” a piano-driven number, acoustic this time, but still by Torkanowsky. However, with “Another Lonely Heart,” those electric keyboard tones come rolling back, as does Powell on fiddle establishing a mild country flavor.
“Soul of a Man,” a song from the great Blind Willie Johnson, takes us deep into the gospel-blues zone, though Thomas’ smoothness of voice (opposite of Johnson’s raw, rough singing) brings a distinctive but welcome twist. It’s a fitting prelude to “Stone Survivor,” which is slide-heavy rockin’ soul but with more gospel organ, and yet these dozen selections essentially set the table for the emotional feast that is Thomas’ version of Stevie Wonder’s “Shelter in the Rain.”
Scaling back to just vocals and piano, it’s a powerhouse finale, and one that can indeed inspire thoughts of Hurricane Katrina (though Wonder wrote the song in tribute to his wife Syreeta). But with ample time spent, the LP’s most striking aspect is simply how disinterested Thomas is in revamping and rehashing her past glories. Bluesy but soul deep, After the Rain was very much a record of 2006, and it holds up strong right now.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-
