Delbert McClinton's music reminds me of a frenzied 1972 R&B nonhit called "Stoop Down Baby," on which singer Chick Willis runs down many verses of salacious nonsense rhymes and double-entendres before signing off with the proud, if slobbery, boast: "I ain't so good-looking, but I got a loonnng time to live." McClinton represents a wholly natural roadhouse synthesis of rootsy Southern music that isn't very fashionable but endures, Saturday night after Saturday night.

Second Wind is the most R&B-oriented of McClinton's four albums and arguably his strongest. He's a master at striking a rhythmic groove that's both relaxed and assertive, as if the band were just kicking off the first set of a four-set night. The songs are sparked by biting guitars, McClinton's fiery harmonica and some of the most brilliant horn arrangements in recent memory. Trumpeter Harrison Calloway, the man responsible for the horn charts, draws on everything from the best of Stax/Volt to various New Orleans music to Joe Scott's work with Bobby "Blue" Bland.

As is usual with McClinton, most of the songs take place in barrooms or bedrooms and are fraught with the conflicting emotions of those who spend too much time in either place (as in the singer's own "Take It Easy," where the tone of the vocals reflects the longing the lyrics reject). Even McClinton's aggressiveness is laced with a sly and often self-deprecating sense of humor that reveals him as the archetypal badass with a heart of gold.

Second Wind marks Delbert McClinton's return as an incisive and knowing songwriter, with such original stompers as "Maybe Someday Baby" and "'B' Movie" standing next to the neglected Chris Kenner classic, "Sick and Tired." There's also a raunchy version of the Chicago blues war horse, "Spoonful," and even an unlikely (but successful) remake of Jesse Winchester's "Isn't That So?" McClinton's version of "Corinna" adds nothing to the Taj Mahal arrangement it emulates, and Johnny Cash's "Big River" doesn't exactly bristle, but these are the LP's only lapses. This record may not be flashy, but it sure does stick to the ribs. (RS 265)

JOHN MORTHLAND