Soul on a roll

Darrell Nulisch shares his gift on Bluesoul

by Ted Drozdowski

It's a winter night in '87, but inside Johnny D's, everybody's transported from the New England chill to that warm, breathless place a genuine, soulful performance takes listeners to. Texas-born Darrell Nulisch is on stage, his balding head thrown slightly back, his eyes closed, hands held at his side palms out, treating an old Freddie King song as if it were the Word of God. His highway-dusted vocal pushes toward the high tenor range as he brings the tune to a climax, his voice trembling under the strength of the emotional crosswinds rippling through it.

It's clear that Nulisch has the gift. That thing so few blue-eyed soul singers actually possess: believability, an unshakable sincerity that he can pass along to everything he sings. And the voice -- a little Bobby Bland, a little Jimmy McCracklin, a little O.V. Wright -- to back it up.

That was how Boston-area audiences got their introduction to Nulisch, just after he'd relocated to the area to join a version of the Broadcasters spearheaded by guitar ace Ronnie Earl and harp star Jerry Portnoy. Earl's since become one of the hottest properties in contemporary blues, a virtuoso who was the toast of this past summer's European festival circuit. Portnoy's gone on to become part of Eric Clapton's band; as such, he's the highest-profile harmonica player in the world. As fate had it, Nulisch stayed in the bars after leaving the Broadcasters. But now, after a few years spent heading the band Texas Heat and recording with Otis Grand and others as a guest vocalist, he's reached a new artistic height with the debut of his first solo album, Bluesoul (Higher Plane).

"I don't think I'm doing anything extraordinary in terms of breaking new ground," the 44-year-old admits. "But I do think what I'm doing transcends the music business, transcends marketing, transcends worrying about telling the rest of the world what's cool. My music is going to go on long after I'm gone, regardless of trends or fashions. That's what I aspire to do. My stuff is simple, lyrically and structurally. But it's so profound on so many levels. Bluesoul is a record about songs -- about emotions we're trying to convey. You don't listen to Al Green or Curtis Mayfield to hear irony or the latest guitar lick; it's about songs, it's about emotion."

And Bluesoul, one of the best traditional R&B CDs of 1995, succeeds on the same level. The élan Nulisch brings to a number like "Crime of Passion," which rocks along at a quick medium-tempo clip, makes what might be a mere bar-crowd pleaser in the grip of a lesser singer resonate with power and grace, and a sense of casual swing. On "Heart Full of Blues" and "Worried," there's that quality that Bland perfected in the days of his Duke/Peacock label glories. It's the sound of a man at war with himself: bluster and strength tempered by insecurity and need, heartbreak dueling with assertiveness. And it all hangs on the hitch of a syllable or the turn of a phrase.

Maybe that gift is in his raisin'. Nulisch was a Dallas kid, growing up around the Vaughan brothers and the drummer/singer/songwriter Doyle Bramhall. And Jimmy Vaughan was a genuine inspiration, playing guitar in the area's coolest band, the Chessmen, and driving a slick hot rod. The Chessmen would often play for the rodders in a nearby park, giving young Nulisch an earful of the sounds he'd chase for the next 30 years. (Nulisch was very briefly also in a band with Stevie Ray Vaughan.) Absorbing the sounds of blues, rock, and R&B from Texas radio, Nulisch began singing, but he had already made a career and supported a family as a salesman before switching to music full time in 1977. It was then that he hooked up with guitarist Anson Funderburgh -- a reasonable alliance, given Nulisch's affection for guitars (he's a big Magic Sam fan). From there on, it was 250 nights a year in every dive they could find. In '84, he stayed at home for a while, playing with another stringbender, Mike Morgan, until he got the call from Earl and Portnoy and moved north.

Today, Nulisch lives in Watertown with his family, but he's taken a break from the road -- doing contracting and home-repair work while he waits for Bluesoul to circulate. "At this point," he allows, "I feel like I need a little break from the business anyway. I was pretty beat up by all the years on the road, the frustrations. But I try to find inspiration every day, try to write as often as I can. These days, there's a blues band on every corner. So the best I can do is hope to have something to say, and to try to keep offering more. Something that's me."