You know that feeling when you pick up a Stratocaster and suddenly feel like you’ve got no idea what you’re doing? It happens to the best of us. But back in 1968, Buddy Guy was busy cementing his legacy as the bridge between the old-school Delta grit and the psychedelic explosion of the late sixties. We're talking about the Play the Guitar album—properly titled A Man and the Blues but often colloquially referred to by its standout mission statement—which remains one of the most raw, unfiltered recordings in the history of Vanguard Records.
He was loud. He was aggressive. Honestly, he was everything Chess Records was afraid of at the time.
For years, Leonard Chess had kept a tight leash on Buddy, forcing him to play subdued, "radio-friendly" R&B licks because he thought Buddy’s natural style was just "noise." Imagine telling a hurricane to be a light breeze. When Buddy finally moved over to Vanguard and recorded this session in Chicago, the leash was gone. You can hear it in the very first track. It isn't just music; it’s a guy finally getting to scream through six strings after years of being told to whisper.
The Sound of Someone Finally Snapping
If you listen to the Play the Guitar album sessions, you aren't hearing a polished studio product. You’re hearing a 31-year-old Buddy Guy standing in a room with Otis Spann on piano, Fred Below on drums, and Donald Hankins on sax. These guys were the heavyweights. But the energy? It’s pure electricity.
Spann’s piano on "I Can’t Quit the Blues" provides this rolling, velvet foundation, but then Buddy enters with a tone that sounds like a serrated knife. It’s sharp. It’s biting.
Most people don't realize how much Eric Clapton and Jimi Hendrix owe to these specific recordings. Hendrix used to sit in the front row of Buddy’s shows with a reel-to-reel recorder, trying to figure out how he got that feedback. Buddy wasn't using fancy pedals or a massive stack of Marshalls yet; he was just cranking a small amp until the tubes started to cry for mercy. This album captured that transition from the "Kings" (B.B., Albert, and Freddie) to the rock gods of the seventies.
Why "Mary Had a Little Lamb" Isn't a Nursery Rhyme
We have to talk about the track "Mary Had a Little Lamb." Most folks know the Stevie Ray Vaughan version. It's a classic. But Stevie basically took Buddy’s blueprint from this album and just added more Texas heat to it.
Buddy’s original is funkier. It’s got this strut.
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He plays with a sense of humor that most bluesmen lacked. There’s a playful call-and-response between his vocals and his guitar that makes the instrument feel like a second person in the room. He wasn't just playing notes; he was telling a story, often interrupting himself with a sharp, staccato burst of notes that would make your hair stand up. It’s technically "The Blues," but it feels like rock and roll before the genre even knew what it wanted to be.
The Technical Chaos of the 1968 Sessions
The production on this record is famously sparse. It was produced by Samuel Charters, a man who understood that you don't over-produce a talent like Buddy Guy. You just hit record and get out of the way.
There are moments on the Play the Guitar album where the levels red-line.
You can hear the room. You can hear the pick hitting the strings. This wasn't the era of digital perfection or Pro Tools. If Buddy hit a "wrong" note—though he rarely did—it stayed in. That’s why it feels so human.
The gear was simple:
- The Guitar: Usually his 1950s Stratocaster.
- The Amp: Likely a Fender Bassman or a Twin Reverb pushed to the absolute limit.
- The Secret Sauce: A thin pick and a very heavy right hand.
Buddy’s technique is a nightmare for classical guitar teachers. He wraps his thumb over the neck. He pulls the strings so far off the fretboard they practically snap. He uses silence as a weapon. He’ll be playing a slow, soulful line and then—BAM—a flurry of notes that sounds like a machine gun. It’s the dynamic range that makes this album a masterclass for anyone trying to actually learn how to play the guitar with soul rather than just speed.
What Most People Get Wrong About Buddy’s Influence
A lot of people think the blues is just about being sad. They’re wrong.
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The Play the Guitar album proves that the blues is about release. When you listen to "Money (That's What I Want)," Buddy takes a standard pop/R&B hit and turns it into a frantic, desperate plea. He’s not sad he doesn't have money; he’s angry about it.
The influence of this specific era of Buddy’s career cannot be overstated. When Jeff Beck first heard these recordings, he reportedly went back to the drawing board on his own style. The sheer audacity of the distortion was unheard of for a "pure" blues record in the late sixties. It broke the rules. It made it okay for the guitar to be the loudest thing in the mix, even louder than the singer.
The Otis Spann Factor
We can't ignore Otis Spann. He was Muddy Waters’ long-time piano player and arguably the greatest blues pianist to ever live. His presence on this album keeps Buddy grounded.
While Buddy is soaring off into these wild, feedback-drenched solos, Spann is there with those steady, rolling triplets. It’s the perfect contrast. It’s the sound of a tradition (Spann) meeting a revolution (Guy). If you’re listening to the album for the first time, pay attention to the way they trade licks on "A Man and the Blues." It’s a conversation. A very loud, very intense conversation.
Learning to Play Like Buddy: Actionable Insights
If you’re inspired to pick up your instrument after spinning the Play the Guitar album, don’t start by trying to memorize his solos note-for-note. You’ll miss the point. Buddy never played the same thing twice.
Instead, focus on these three things that define his 1968 sound:
- The Vibrato: Buddy doesn't just shake the string; he throttles it. It’s wide and fast. Practice your finger vibrato until the note sounds like it’s screaming.
- The Dynamics: Learn to play so softly the audience has to lean in, then hit a chord so hard they jump back. That’s the Buddy Guy "scare tactic."
- The Bends: He often bends a string up a full step and a half. It’s physically demanding. You need strong fingers and a bit of a "don't care" attitude toward your guitar's tuning stability.
Honestly, the best way to honor this album is to stop worrying about being "perfect." The Play the Guitar album is a monument to imperfection. It’s about the grit under the fingernails. It’s about the sweat on the fretboard.
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The Legacy of a Masterpiece
Today, Buddy Guy is the last man standing.
B.B. King is gone. Albert King is gone. But Buddy is still out there, playing those same licks. When you go back to this 1968 recording, you’re hearing the moment he realized he was a star. It wasn't just a career move; it was a declaration of independence.
For the modern listener, this isn't just a "vintage" record. It’s a high-voltage jolt of energy that still sounds fresher than most of the over-produced blues-rock coming out today. It’s raw. It’s real. It’s exactly what music should be.
If you want to truly understand the evolution of the electric guitar, you have to spend time with this record. You have to let the feedback ring in your ears. You have to feel the way he attacks the strings.
Next Steps for Your Blues Journey:
- Listen to the Original: Track down the 1968 Vanguard pressing (or the digital remaster) of A Man and the Blues. Avoid the "Best Of" compilations for a moment—listen to the album as a cohesive unit to hear the flow.
- Compare the Covers: Listen to Buddy’s "Mary Had a Little Lamb" back-to-back with Stevie Ray Vaughan’s version from Texas Flood. It’ll teach you more about "feel" than any YouTube tutorial.
- Simplify Your Rig: Next time you practice, turn off all your pedals. Plug straight into the amp. Turn the volume up until it naturally breaks up. Find the tone in your hands, not in a box.
- Study the Lyrics: Pay attention to how Buddy’s guitar phrases mimic his vocal lines. Try to "sing" a melody on your guitar, matching the inflection of your voice.
There’s no shortcut to playing like this. You just have to live it. Buddy did, and we have the recordings to prove it. Now go plug in and make some noise.