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Ernie Andrews: No Regrets

Ernie Andrews in the studio, 1954
Ernie Andrews

Sure, writing about music is a little like tap dancing about architecture, but beyond the usual inadequacies caused by translating from one mode of expression to another, writing about Ernie Andrews has its own particular challenges. His performances are so engrossing, so viscerally all consuming, that it’s almost like being assigned to report on a trip to the amusement park. You wind up asking yourself, “Geez, why can’t I just enjoy the rides?”‘

Andrews might be what you get if you crossed Billy Eckstine with Louis Jordan. His voice melts into a mellow baritone on ballads. At 75 years old, he is still a ladies’ man: suave, sexy, charming. But Andrews can also romp and stomp and shout with the best of the rhythm men. Every song has blues potential. And humor abounds, sometimes in the most unusual places: his readings of “Don’t Touch Me” hover so cleverly between a rebuke and an invitation that audiences never fail to chuckle.

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