You Don't Know My Mind brings back the familiar, friendly growl of modern-day traditionalist Guy Davis, with a pipin' hot baker's dozen of his compositions. Again, on this disc Davis has some extremely able players to help augment his songs and support his vision of them, never overplaying or getting in the way, but providing that constant base of support from which the performer can extend his inspiration. His voice wraps around the lyric and infiltrates it, giving it that heartfelt feeling that makes it his song. This is a consummate performer who loves his music and knows its roots and origins.

Guy Davis continues to explore the almost forgotten territory of acoustic African-American folk music, field hollers, shouts, rags, and gospel songs in a style that predates the blues and has much in common with the white Appalachian music that existed until the record companies separated it into race and hillbilly music. "Slow Motion Daddy" is a salacious ragtime original with a syncopated rhythm that recalls Rev. Gary Davis and Willie McTell. Davis plays banjo and harmonica and hams it up giving the performance a sly humor. "Follow Me Down" is a 12-string guitar showcase that pays homage to Leadbelly's "Mr. Tom Hughes' Town" a tale of racism and high life in the big city. Nerak Patterson adds electric guitar to a cover of "Hoochie Coochie Man" in an arrangement that crosses the Delta with South Side Chi town. Davis delivers the tune with a growling sexuality and leaves Patterson room for a tasty solo. "Can't Be Satisfied" is another Muddy Waters' tune, this time played claw hammer style on the banjo, with Davis adding harmonica and delivering another playful vocal.

Guy Davis is a smart singer/arranger, having realized sometime back that the blues world encompassed more than electric Chicago bands and Delta-style soloists. On Skunkmello, he finds joy in moving from style to style, and even improvising by throwing several things into the mix to see what will happen. The collection kicks off with two covers, the first a rewritten version of "Natural Born Eastman" followed by a take on "Goin' Down Slow." The first moves at a brisk pace, fired by Davis' gruff vocal and backed by a spry acoustic mix, while the latter delves deeply into electric barroom blues. There's fancy claw-hammer banjo on "Shaky Pudding," and banjo blues on the lazy "Po' Boy, Great Long Ways from Home." To the average blues fan, this eclectic approach adds variety and keeps the collection intriguing from beginning to the end.

With each new release, the clothes of an old bluesman fit Guy Davis more and more comfortably. By now the blues are completely a part of who he is, so when he reworks an old Sleepy John Estes song into the opener, "Limetown," it feels completely natural; even with the familiar "Rollin' And Tumblin'" riff. He mixes it up well between covers and originals, taking in quite a range – there's John Lee Hooker, Willie Dixon, and Blind Lemon Jefferson all sitting amicably together in his style; as well as some pieces like "Step It Up And Go" that are just plain old. His own material is less familiar, of course, but just as good, with the careful (if not wholly accurate) patina of age about it. Perhaps the best thing about Davis is that he never tries to be something he's not; there's no fake Southern accent. What you hear is what you get. And while he's hardly the guitar genius that Charley Patton and Robert Johnson were, he's more than adequate, and his excellent band backs him up solidly and subtly, never stepping out too far. There's plenty of talent in Davis, but there's also an obvious and deep love for the blues, especially the rural country blues, and he brings to his music a real timelessness. The man just keeps getting better and better.

Guy Davis has developed into a consummate bluesman. He's listened hard to classic Delta blues and based his style on it, without ever becoming a carbon copy of the greats. Instead they're his jumping-off point into something as individual as "Layla, Layla," where didgeridoo makes an appearance, or the poignant "Joppatowne." Equally adept on guitar, banjo, and harmonica, he's become a force of nature, with the ability to write a song like "I Don't Know" that sounds as if it had come directly from the '30s, alongside covers of Fred McDowell, Big Bill Broonzy, and Sleepy John Estes. The originals and older work mesh perfectly, the sign of a real bluesman. And, of course, he's capable of working the other side of the coin to blues, in gospel, as the closer, "God's Unchanging Hand," clearly shows. This is the tradition reborn and revitalized. Davis' support is wonderfully sympathetic, but he's completely at the center of things, the motivator and mover of this music, and a purveyor of the real blues. His lineage is obvious, and he's the new generation, doing it right and keeping it real.

Making sure that country-blues starts the 21st century off on the right foot, Guy Davis' Butt Naked Free, whose title was inspired by the comments of Davis' young son, is one of the most accomplished statements the genre has offered in a few years. Picking up where 1998's You Don't Know My Mind left off, Davis once again has decided to fill out his sound, but this time adding touches of mandolin, organ and accordion, with the results being altogether more satisfying and never sounding even slightly overproduced. Where Davis on his previous album sounded, at times, unsure of his new direction, Butt Naked Free rocks with a loose liveliness, still allowing Davis' derivative yet idiosyncratic sound to shine through. "Waiting on the Cards to Fall" and "Never Met No Woman Treats Me Like You Do," the latter with Levon Helm contributing drums and mandolin, showcase how well Davis' sound fills out and offers the unique experience of hearing what it might have sounded like if Mance Lipscomb or Reverend Gary Davis had ever recorded with full-band accompaniment.