It shouldn't come as a surprise to any fan of Nick Moss that a band signed to his Blue Bella label and produced by him would have a gritty, tough and raw approach similar to his own. The Chicago-based five-piece Kilborn Alley Blues Band recorded its first album in only three days, so the feel of Put It in the Alley is as immediate and uncompromising as a live show. Songs shift moods from the basic, stripped down Windy City blues of "The Blues Takes Me In" to the Southern-fried R&B of "Thousand Miles." Lead singer/guitarist/frontman Andrew Duncanson sounds somewhat like a cross between Wet Willie's Jimmy Hall and early Boz Scaggs, using his soulful croon to soften the attack of the band's gruffer sound. But it's harp player Joe Asselin, who has surely listened to his Little Walter albums, that adds feral heat, especially on the seven-minute slow blues "The Breakaway." All but one of the songs is original, and although none of them reinvent the blues wheel, they are all solid vehicles for the band to lay into.

The Kilborn Alley Blues Band is the real deal, a rip snortin', fire breathin' gang that puts heart and soul into every note they play. Gritty, raw, and a bit sloppy in the best sense of the word, they hold nothing back and play the blues with a nasty rock edge that will appeal to youngsters as well as die-hard fans. They kick things off with "I'm Spent," a Chicago-meets-the Delta rave-up with hints of Little Walter in the wailing harmonica work of Joe Asselin. Andrew Duncanson lays back on the lead guitar to deliver a sweaty lead vocal while Asselin's honking accents up the ante. "Christmas in County" has a Memphis soul feel, the sad tale of a Christmas Eve drug bust, with stinging lead guitar work from Duncanson and wailing harp from Asselin laid down over the sinister groove of Chris Breen's bass and Ed O'Hara's drums. "Come Home Soon" has a bit of Al Green in its arrangement, a sad tale of a soldier in Iraq longing for his family. Sideman Gerry Hundt's organ provides a churchy, sanctified vibe to the proceedings, complementing Duncanson's sparse, stinging guitar and weary vocal.