It's getting harder and harder to discover people for yourself these days. In the early days of rock and R&B there were lots of small, regionally distributed labels who put out sides by artists who might be tremendously popular in four or five states and unheard of anywhere else. And every once in a while somebody traveling through town would tell you about this amazing cat blowing in a club in Omaha or somewhere.

But nowadays record companies are searching every crook and nanny for instant sensations, and "discoveries" are made on a national level, simultaneously, usually with an overkill of hype.

Roy Buchanan is one of those well respected people on the word of mouth trail, and this, his first album, just quietly arrives with nothing to live down. Buchanan is a guitarist who's been playing since he was a kid, digging jazz, blues, country and gospel. He toured with Dale Hawkins (remember "Suzie Q"?) for three years, and in 1959 settled in the Washington, D.C. area, where he still works at the Crossroads Bar. He's done some session work for Lieber and Stoller and Freddy Cannon, but he mainly works clubs. (And Rolling Stones' tours to the contrary, it's the drinking bars where you pay your dues and get your music together–it can make or break you.)

A while back PBS did a 90-minute special on Buchanan, a mixture of live concert and films of Buchanan jamming with people like Johnny and Shuggie Otis, Merle Haggard and a jazz guitarist whose name I can't remember. The programs showed Buchanan to be a guitarist with an unusual amount of technical skill, plus a divergent enough soul to be more than at home in any of several styles. I was looking forward to an album.

Several months later, here it is and at least half of it was every bit as good as I expected. Buchanan is backed by the Snakestretchers, his regular group (organ, drums, guitar and bass)–and though they're not up to Buchanan's level, they certainly don't handicap him as much as some reports have had it. They're primarily a backup group, and that's about all they do.

Side one is the best. Chuck Tilley does vocals on "I am a Lonesome Fugitive" (the Liz and Casey Anderson tune), and on "Haunted House," the old rocker. On the first, Buchanan just sort of lays back, on the latter he takes off on a break with a solo that just strides out. Buchanan is one of the few guitarists to come along with his own sound–and this break typifies it. Side one also has three instrumentals. The first, "Sweet Dreams" is a lyrical and flowing country ballad–Roy's lines alternately flow, then pop in quick little flurries. There are two originals here; "Cajun" is what the title says with some nice fiddle-like flows and "John's Blues" is a showcase for Roy's mellow blues style. It opens in an easy mood, then moves into some "chicken picking" with notes sounding like popcorn popping. This cat's got amazing chops!

"Pete's Blues," which opens side two doesn't really go anywhere. The band pulses on the Muddy Waters "Just Make Love to You" riff (ba-bah-ba-bomp) as Buchanan moves through a variety of sounds and tone settings. It's too long, and there isn't much dynamic variation. It seems that in this cut, technique triumphed over content and it isn't enough to carry the whole weight. The last cut, with Tilley on vocals again, is Hank William's "Hey Good Looking," a Saturday night special for sure. But the version here is strangely listless and the vocal just doesn't work somehow. The remaining cut on side two is "The Messiah Will Come Again," another Buchanan original. There's a spoken introduction over organ background, then Buchanan comes in with a stone-beautiful gospel-sounding melody. I mentioned Buchanan's sound before–part of it is style (attack, sustained flowing lines, etc.), the other is pure soul. The piece begins quietly, then moves to a stingingly lonely mood, followed by a series of staccatto explosions-and closes with some of the purest and aching yearning I've ever heard. Buchanan doesn't sing much, his guitar sings for him, and this is a very moving song. He's been down a lot of roads, many of them show here, and it sounds like he's pretty close to home.

Half of this album is great, the other half okay, which still beats most albums around now. Buchanan has played Carnegie Hall recently, other concerts may be on tap. But I sorta hope he keeps playing bars–I'd like to go get loaded and listen to music like this. It seems to fit bars better than Carnegie Hall somehow. (RS 118)

TONY GLOVER