# Interview with Rev Raven: People would request Way Back Home almost every night: Videos, new CD cover, Photos

- Link: https://jazzblues.eu/2026/09/08/rev-raven/
- Published: 2026-09-08T05:00:29+01:00
- Author: https://JazzBlues.EU

**Written interview** **with** **guitarist** **&** **vocalist** **Rev** **Raven –
Reverend Raven & Westside Andy and the Chain Smokin’ Altar Boys – Way Back Home.**

**Jazz Blues European Union: – Thank you for taking the time to have this interview
with Jazz Blues EU. Tell us about your music. Tell** **us** **about** **your** **
music.** **When** **did** **you** **start** **performing?**

**Rev Raven: –** For all intents and purposes, we are a Chicago house-rocking blues
band. We play a lot of original songs over traditional African American blues grooves.
Our music is presented as an ensemble instead of just backing me up. My favorite
Chicago blues bands were ensembles, especially Jimmy Rogers.

We’ve had a fine string of harmonica players and pianists through the last 30 years:
Madison Slim, Cadillac Pete Rahn, Benny Rickun, and now Westside Andy Linderman.
I feel honored to play with these guys because between them they are veterans of
the Charlie Musselwhite, Delbert McClinton, Tino Gonzales, Paul Black, Pinetop Perkins,
Jim Liban, and many more.

I started playing guitar when I was 14 years old. My older cousin, David, and his
friends took me to see Cream, with the Mothers of Invention opening, in 1968 at 
the Amphitheater in Chicago. I was mesmerized by Clapton’s playing and Frank Zappa.

A little side story, though. My cousin Dave was the copy boy for the music critic
at the Chicago Tribune at the time, and so he’d always get backstage passes for 
these shows. So we went backstage to meet Cream and talk to them, and Ginger Baker
took one look at me with my greaser hair and my Nehru jacket and said, “No bloody
kids.” So I had to go stand over by the Meister Brau sign, and my cousin would come
over and collect me when they were done hanging out with them, getting their autographs
and stuff, I guess.

In the meantime, this long-haired guy with a watch cap comes up and goes, “Hey kid,
what’s going on?” And I told him what was going on. He introduced himself. He goes,“
I’m Jimmy.” I said, “Oh, you’re the drummer from the Mothers?” He says, “Yeah.” 
It was Jimmy Carl Black. It was pretty cool. He hung out with me, and when I told
him what they did, he started badmouthing Baker.

I have a picture of it, and I sent it to him like 25 years ago. He didn’t remember
it, but we became Facebook friends.

But yeah, I started playing guitar after that Cream concert, and that summer I drove
my mother crazy playing the opening riff to “Sunshine of Your Love.” That’s all 
I knew. So she told my older cousin to get me some guitar lessons from his guitar
player in his band, which he did, and then he showed me how to learn songs off records.

I ended up ruining a lot of my brother’s records trying to learn how to play solos
by putting quarters on top of the needle. To this day, I owe him those records too.

I was hooked. I would come home from school and practice, and most of my friends
at the time were budding musicians. There were only two of us in high school who
were into blues, and that was me and a friend of mine named Al Cardozo, who now 
goes by the name Al Stone, but that’s another story.

Then I saw Freddie King in 1971 with Leon Russell’s band backing him up at the Kinetic
Playground in Chicago. It might have been ’70. I’m not sure. Freddie was out in 
the middle of the floor, 2,000 hippies. He’s got a 200-foot cord, a bunch of cords
taped together, and he’s standing right in the middle of the audience, and he’s 
just ripping.

And that was it. I stopped playing rock and roll that day. And to this day, when
I go to jam sessions or play with people, and they say, “You know this song?” I 
say, “Not if it was written after ’71. I don’t know it.”

I got hooked on blues as a teenager. Why listen to rock bands singing about teenage
love when I could listen to songs about Hoochie Coochie Men, evil women, going to
jail, etc.? So I’ve been playing it off and on my whole life, with a 15-year break
when I was in the Navy.

![](https://i0.wp.com/blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTqwKRHAbUOVjK7GYSU6VHq7J0iJtm8QRKWarFmd3i08nFOdLjXKMhUiDsa5Yd6e3wJW7IO1DJOpiDrv8dJi5k-
sGJb1owvb7Ym2Q1ckYC9lCRRMssAgwo7uOb3aEv1L-5PntfJdvIG58FbXEP9z8pvRgcOL95Ut-mwiqV14bM3bUbmXHMPC9LmlSFvboO/
w2900-h4352/BAND%20POSED_G8H4840.jpeg?w=640&ssl=1)

**What** **do** **you** **consider** **to** **be** **your** **hometown** **and****
how** **does** **that** **affect** **your** **music?**

I was born and raised in the West Englewood neighborhood on the South Side of Chicago,
with a few stints in the suburb of Posen, Illinois, which was just over the border.
We were lower-middle-class, working poor for the most part.

But it was an incredibly exciting time to grow up in Chicago as a kid. The ’60s 
were happening, and there was all this incredible music going on around me. I sometimes
think of myself as that kid in The Wonder Years—11, 12, 13 years old, watching all
of this incredible stuff happen around me.

And because of my older cousin Dave, I got to see a lot of the really cool bands
that were coming through town.

Chicago itself is a tough, working-class town, and when I was growing up, especially
on the South Side, that was very much a part of the culture. As soon as I was old
enough, I was going to the Checkerboard Lounge, Buddy Guy’s place, the Queen Bee
Lounge, Teresa’s—anywhere we could get into.

And they got a real kick out of seeing all these long-haired hippies coming into
the blues clubs, but we were there because we loved the music. We’d have a ball.

So my music is influenced almost entirely by Chicago artists. There are exceptions—
Albert Collins from Texas, maybe a little bit of the West Coast guys—but mainly 
it’s the Chicago shuffle, all kinds of great grooves, and songs about life itself.

I try not to write or sing anything that isn’t personal to me. I want to keep it
real. In my case, most of it comes from broken hearts, lust, growing up poor, and
losing people in my life.

**What** **performers** **have** **been** **your** **inspiration?**

I think, like most of the kids in my circle of budding musicians, it was Eric Clapton.
He was probably the biggest influence on me at the time, before Hendrix came along.
I was listening to Clapton play with John Mayall, looking at the backs of the Yardbirds
and Rolling Stones records, and then all of a sudden my cousin and his friends started
saying, “Wait a minute. You know, Chester Burnett, Morgan McKinley, Muddy Waters,
Howlin’ Wolf—they live and play like three miles from our house!”

So all of a sudden, we started going to the clubs. We went to the Checkerboard, 
and I got to see Otis Rush, Lefty Dizz, Johnny Dollar, James Wheeler, Louis Myers,
Dave Myers, and all these incredible Chicago musicians.

Dave Myers actually gave me some great advice one night at Buddy Guy’s. He told 
me, “Never play the same thing the bass player is playing.” I took that to heart,
and I still think about it.

And, of course, there were the Kings. I saw Freddie King, and that changed my life.
For about two years, I was obsessed with Freddie’s instrumentals. I wished I could
sing like that, because for me, the blues is all about the vocal.

In fact, some of my favorite blues bands have been fronted by women. That’s just
a personal preference of mine. There’s something about a great female blues singer
that really gets me.

And, of course, Junior Wells and all the great harmonica players—Little Walter, 
Big Walter Horton, James Cotton.

In the late ’70s and early ’80s, when I was old enough to get into the whole nightclub
scene, we followed James Cotton everywhere. He was the band to see if you wanted
to party, have a good time, meet girls, and dance.

To this day, one of my favorite blues albums ever is Live at Antone’s. James Cotton
had Luther Tucker and Magic Guitar Murphy on guitar, and that record still gets 
played a lot around my house.

So I guess my influences are pretty broad, but they all come back to the same thing:
great blues musicians who could make you feel something. That’s what I’ve always
wanted to do with my own music.

**What** **do** **you** **find** **most** **challenging** **about** **being** **
an** **independent** **artist** **in** **today’s** **music** **industry?**

I think one of the biggest challenges is simply having the stamina to do it. Driving
long distances, unloading heavy equipment—although we now have a gift from heaven:
a roadie, LOL—putting on a good show, packing everything back up, finding your hotel,
trying to get some sleep, and then hitting the road again the next day.

After a few weeks of that, it can really take a toll on you.

Then there’s the cost of putting a band on the road. Gas, hotels, equipment, food—
everything has gotten more expensive. And you’re trying to make enough money to 
pay the musicians and make the whole thing worthwhile.

There’s also the human side of it. You’ve got a family back home, and you want to
keep them positive and reassured when you’re gone for weeks at a time.

Cancellations can really hurt, too. We’ve dealt with cancellations for all kinds
of reasons, including COVID and venues going bankrupt. When you’re an independent
band, you don’t have a big organization behind you absorbing those losses. You feel
every one of them.

And I think it’s getting harder on venue owners who promote blues, too. A lot of
the traditional blues audience is made up of baby boomers, and the culture around
going out to hear music has changed. We’re not necessarily drinking and raising 
hell like we did 30 or 40 years ago.

So the challenge is keeping this music alive in a changing world, while still making
it possible for independent musicians and the people who present the music to make
a living.

But we keep doing it because we love it. At some point, you realize that if you’re
still willing to load the gear into the van, drive 500 miles, play for two hours,
and then load it all back up again—you must really love what you’re doing.

**What** **do** **you** **base** **your** **success** **on?**

I’d like to give Little Richard’s answer to Johnny Carson and say, “Because I’m 
pretty.”

But seriously, I’d say it’s probably persistence, being willing to travel, and being
very lucky with the musicians who have ended up playing with me throughout the years.

I also think being accessible is really important. We call it schmoozing, but it’s
really just hanging out with the crowd. You go out, you talk to people, and you 
actually make friends with them. You look forward to seeing people when you’re on
the road. The people who come to our shows have lives, families, stories—and you
learn about their lives, and they learn a little bit about you.

Then they come back.

I think our songs are good, too, and I think our show is really good. We’re a tight,
tight show band, and that comes from playing together for about 15 years. We have
six or seven sets of material to choose from now, so we never get bored playing,
and we can keep things fresh for the audience.

If I remember what I did the last time we played a particular venue, I don’t want
to give them the same show again. I want every performance to have something different
about it.

And we respect our audience. We dress nicely on stage. We try to be kind and attentive
to people.

For me, success is when people come back. When they know the songs, when they know
the band, when they come up and say hello, and when you genuinely look forward to
seeing them again.

If you can do that for 15 or 20 years, I think you’re doing something right.

**Can** **you** **talk** **about** **your** **experiences** **collaborating** **
with** **other** **artists** **or** **musicians?** **How** **does** **it** **influence****
your** **creative** **process?**

I learned how to play behind a harmonica player by playing with Madison Slim, who
was a member of the Jimmy Rogers Band back in the ’80s and early ’90s. From then
on, I had a string of really talented harmonica players: Cadillac Pete, Benny Rickun,
and good shows with R.J. Mischo, Steve Vanderhaar, Pat Hayes, and Big Al Grothe 
on saxophone.

And then there’s Westside Andy, who’s been in the band for 14 years now. Andy and
I have a synergy, I believe, where we play off each other very, very well.

Our drummer, Craig Panisch, used to play with Bernard Allison and Brian Lee, and
he’s right there in the mix with us. And PT, our bass player, is like an encyclopedia
of blues grooves. He’s played with Charlie Musselwhite, Luther Tucker, Big Walter
Horton, and Jim Liban here in Milwaukee.

So I get ideas from all of them. I get their input, and we try to create something
that sounds a little bit different from the usual blues band.

Even though I’m from Chicago, I don’t play strictly traditional blues. There are
a lot of bands that do that a lot better. So I just play what I feel—and what we
feel—and hope something happens on stage. That little bit of magic that happens 
between the band and the audience.

And I think even though we’re still old, we still live for those moments.

**What** **was** **your** **latest** **musical** **release?**

We just put out a brand-new CD called Way Back Home. It features the current band,
who have been playing together for almost 14 years.

A lot of the songs are tunes we’ve been playing night after night for years. People
would come up after shows and say, “Is that song on your CD?” And we’d say, “No,
we’ve never recorded it.” So we finally decided to fix that.

There’s a little Chicago blues, some swing, a couple of originals, and a lot of 
great harmonica from Westside Andy. We also have Dennis Wage on piano and organ,
who used to play with Delbert McClinton.

The title track is Wilton Felder’s “Way Back Home,” which Andy has been playing 
almost every night for years. And it’s never quite the same twice. That song has
become a real part of our live show, and it ended up being the most requested song
on the CD.

We basically went into the studio, cut the songs we wanted to record, cleaned them
up a little bit, and put the record out. There wasn’t some grand master plan. We
just wanted to finally record some of these songs that people had been asking for.

Now we’re looking forward to getting out on the road and supporting the record—and,
hopefully, letting people hear it the way we really play it, which is live.

**Do** **you** **have** **any** **news** **to** **share?** **Could** **you** **share****
the** **story** **behind** **your** **latest** **new** **CD: Reverend Raven & Westside
Andy and the Chain Smokin’ Altar Boys – Way Back Home?**

As I was saying, people would request “Way Back Home” almost every night after Andy
played it. The people selling our merchandise would tell us, “You know, everybody
keeps asking for that song.”

It really showcases his beautiful melodic playing, his powerful playing, and his
passion, all rolled into one. And every night he plays it differently. After 15 
years together, it continues to amaze me. He always lights up the room with that
song.

So we had to get it on record, and I wanted to get this version of the band that
has played together countless nights for 15 years now.

Westside Andy is a passionate, powerful, and melodic improviser. It’s always blues,
but he never plays it the same way every night. Andy’s been across the pond a few
times with the late, great Chicago piano player, Barrelhouse Chuck.

Craig Panosh, our drummer, spent years on the road with Bernard Allison and the 
Braille Blues Daddy, Brian Lee. He lays down a thick groove. And P. T. Pedersen,
our bass player, was with the Charlie Musselwhite Band during the Arhoolie days 
and recorded and toured with him. He’s played with Luther Tucker and Fenton Robinson,
along with Robben Ford. He’s been a professional musician since 1962.

He and Craig lay down the groove every night, and it makes it real easy for Andy
and me to have a ball, too.

We took a long time to record this whole CD together, and the songs are all things
we’ve been playing for years. So we finally decided, okay, let’s make a band CD.

This isn’t my CD, per se, like some of my other records where I paid the musicians
and put the record out myself. This is the four of us putting out a record as a 
band. We share the expenses, and hopefully we share some of the benefits, too, so
we can make a living doing this.

We had a lot of fun making it, and we’re looking forward to doing more in the studio.
We’re currently writing more songs for our next CD, which I’m hoping will be all
originals. It’s really just a matter of finding the time to get into the studio.

Actually, I’d also like to record another live CD. Live albums are some of my favorite
records anyway. There’s something about capturing what happens between a band and
an audience in that moment that you just can’t completely recreate in a studio.

[**Buy from here – New CD**](https://mixup.media/playlist/GIG2HSJvPy)

[[

**How** **does** **your** **latest** **album** **fit** **into** **your** **creative****
path?** **Is** **this** **a** **goal** **you** **wanted** **to** **achieve?**

Well, now that we have those songs out on CD, we can start focusing on writing new
songs and hopefully collaborating with some other writers. There are a few people
we’ve been talking to about collaborating on songs.

As I get older and play a little less, I find myself really enjoying writing songs
and playing around in the studio.

Our engineer is Steve Hamilton from the Sausage Factory, and he does wonderful work.
He’s recorded so many great bands, and he really knows how to record blues bands.
He likes putting us all in the same room and having us play together, rather than
putting everybody in separate booths with headphones. To me, it sounds much more
natural that way.

I learned a lot about entertaining people by going to blues clubs as soon as I was
old enough to get in—the South Side, Buddy Guy’s Checkerboard Lounge, the Queen 
Bee Lounge, Teresa’s—and watching the bands. I watched how they entertained the 
audience, what people danced to, and how everybody in the room would just get happy.

And I think that, for me, that’s what it’s all about when you play for people. You
give them quality entertainment while still being true to yourself. Because maybe
they’ve had a hard week. Maybe they had an argument with their spouse. Maybe life
just isn’t going the way it should for them right now.

But if, by the end of the evening, they feel good and they’ve got a little spring
in their step, then I’ve done a good job. We’ve done a good job.

We like traveling together. We’re a band of brothers. There are no hidden agendas
and no ego trips. We just have fun.

I spent a lot of years in the Navy, and it reminds me of having a good division 
of shipmates, where you could actually go to work and enjoy yourself. That’s what
it’s like for me every night when I play with these guys. I enjoy myself.

So that’s pretty much my creative path: just doing it for as long as I can, and 
having fun doing it.

If you can make a living, pay your bills, and play the music you like, then you’re
blessed.

**How** **do** **you** **approach** **the** **process** **of** **songwriting,** **
and** **are** **there** **any** **specific** **themes** **or** **emotions** **you****
tend** **to** **explore** **in** **your** **music?**

Most of the songs I write seem to be directed at people in my life that I couldn’t
have this conversation with. But I can sing it in a song every night and get it 
out of my system.

People I loved, people I miss, people who are no longer with us. Sometimes something
humorous will be said somewhere, and it just has a ring to it. I’ll write it down
somewhere, or, with this new record thing on my phone, I’ll record it.

I do what Steve Allen used to do. Steve Allen, the songwriter and entertainer from
the ’50s and ’60s, used to carry two little tape recorders with him. He’d keep one
in his left pocket and one in his right pocket. The one in the left pocket was for
ideas for songs, and the one in the right pocket was for ideas for books.

I always thought that was great, so that’s what I do now. I have a lot of partial
songs that I haven’t finished.

So if I ever get over being a procrastinator, maybe I’ll finish them up.

But most of them are about loving someone or being hurt, and telling them how I 
feel about things. I think that’s probably where most of my songwriting comes from.
If I can’t say it to somebody, I can put it in a song and sing it.

**As** **an** **indie** **musician,** **how** **do** **you** **navigate** **the****
balance** **between** **creative** **freedom** **and** **commercial** **appeal?**

Actually, I’ve never written a song with commercial appeal in my head. I write them
because that’s how I feel about something. I usually have a groove in mind for it.
Sometimes I’ll try them over a bunch of different grooves just to see if it works.

Then we start playing them live. You play them a lot for a couple of months, get
them tight, and then eventually we move on to something else.

We’ve been lucky enough to be commercially appealing enough to tour regionally. 
We’re a regional act. We’re not a national act. We play throughout the Upper Midwest
and pretty much all over the Midwest. We do one Florida tour every year. We used
to go to the Virgin Islands, we’ve toured Canada, and we’ve done a couple of tours
of the East Coast. We’ve never really done the West Coast.

But we’re too old to tour like that anymore—and we don’t want to. We like staying
in our little pocket here and playing for places and people that we enjoy playing
for, people who come see us all the time, and hopefully bringing some new people
into the audience.

And you try to have one of those evenings where everything comes together. You have
the right place, the right crowd, the vibe is good, the people at the venue are 
on the ball and hospitable, and you have this wonderful experience. The crowd responds,
and something just happens.

But it’s momentary. The next day you wake up, and that’s all it is—a memory.

And then you try to go out and do it again.

That happens for us more than occasionally. It’s happened pretty frequently over
the last couple of years, and it’s very addictive.

I think that’s why I keep doing it. I don’t see myself stopping. I just see myself
slowing down. And that’s okay.

**What** **role** **does** **technology** **and** **social** **media** **play** **
in** **promoting** **your** **music** **and** **connecting** **with** **your** **
audience?**

It’s enough to make it a lot easier to get the word out about where we’re playing.
I only use a few platforms because I don’t know how to use the other ones. I use
Facebook, Bandsintown, my website, and my email list. That’s about it.

I know I should probably be on the other platforms. I think we’re on Spotify and
Pandora, and I know we get some play from them because I get a statement from BMI
every quarter, and they actually pay you for that. If you list your performances
each quarter, they pay you. So it’s another good reason for me to educate myself.

Once again, though, there’s that procrastination thing, and finding the time.

So I have a publicist. Her name is Christine Johnson in Madison, Wisconsin, and 
she does a wonderful job. She takes care of a lot of my social media stuff, and 
she does a really good job because, honestly, I would forget to do it.

Then I’d wonder, “Why aren’t there more people at the club?” Well, it’s because 
I forgot to put the word out.

So having somebody handle that part of the business for you is a godsend to me.

In addition to our roadie, James.

**Could** **you** **describe** **a** **memorable** **live** **performance** **experience****
or** **tour** **that** **has** **had** **a** **lasting** **impact** **on** **you****
and** **your** **music?**

Well, I don’t even have to think about that. It was opening for B.B. King twice 
at the Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa, in front of a crowd of almost 3,000 people.

It was surreal for me, you know—this palooka from the South Side of Chicago, opening
for one of my heroes.

And then, being the kind gentleman he was, B.B. invited us onto the bus to hang 
out with him. So we spent about half an hour on the bus talking about music, talking
about life, living on the road, and just hanging out. It was great.

The other one would be playing at Buddy Guy’s. You know, Buddy Guy’s is nirvana 
in Chicago. So getting to play there and open for people like Koko Taylor, Gatemouth
Brown, and Eddie Clearwater was a huge honor.

Then we eventually got our own shots, where we were the only band or the headliner.
That was an honor, too.

But I always had more fun opening for those folks—the bands I would go see on my
own—and getting to be that close to them, hanging out with them in the dressing 
room and talking to them.

That’s pretty much it for me. I did my career in the Navy, and then I got out and
I was able to experience all these things.

I don’t need anything else. I’m content.

**In** **an** **era** **of** **streaming** **platforms,** **how** **do** **you****
feel** **about** **the** **changing** **landscape** **of** **music** **consumption****
and** **its** **impact** **on** **independent** **musicians?**

I would think it would be a great time to be in a band, especially if you’re young,
because you can have success without the help of a record label. You can do it on
your own. There are bands that get in vans and drive all across the country, and
we bump into them on the road at gas stations and rest areas. They’re young rock
bands, and it’s a lot of fun to see.

I think the same is true, at least for what we do. People aren’t buying CDs like
they used to. Everything is streaming now, and I try to go with the flow.

From what I hear and read, modern technology and streaming platforms can be beneficial
to independent musicians because you have more control over your music, what you
earn from it, and how you book and promote yourself without a record company in 
the middle of everything.

Everything changes. That’s life. People, places, and things don’t remain the same,
so you have to live in the present. When you’re trying to make a living doing this,
you just have to accept that and keep moving forward.

And I do it with the help of the people who work with us—Christine and Larry K, 
our promoter, Jen Taylor, our graphic artist, and my agents, Rico Anderson, Lance
Schulman, and Doug Tackett from Road Dog. There’s a whole little team behind us.

And it all works out. It frees us up to basically just go, show up, set up, and 
play—and hopefully be well-rested enough to play well.

That’s really what I want to do.

**Musicians** **often** **have** **a** **close** **relationship** **with** **their****
fanbase.** **How** **do** **you** **engage** **with** **your** **fans** **and** **
build** **a** **dedicated** **community** **around** **your** **music?**

Well, people can find us at ReverendRaven.com. Our Facebook page is Reverend Raven
and Westside Andy with the Chain Smokin’ Altar Boys. You can listen to our music
on Spotify, Pandora, and all the other streaming services. I don’t actually know
all of them because somebody else handles that for me. But we’re out there.

You can also get a hold of me at my email address, [rraven01@gmail.com](https://jazzblues.eu/2026/09/08/rev-raven/rraven01@gmail.com).
That’s about it.

I look forward to seeing people at the shows. It’s one of the things, like I said
before, that I really like to do. I like seeing old friends that I’ve known for 
a long time because I’ve been playing for them for so many years, and I like meeting
new ones, too.

Especially young people. We’re starting to see a lot more young people at our shows,
which is really encouraging because there are so many young, great blues musicians
starting to work the scene right now.

So it’s kind of an exhilarating time to be playing, and I’m glad I’m still young
enough, at 72, to enjoy it.

**By Olivia Peevas**

![](https://i0.wp.com/blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5yzNVHysR37m6PK6PphlqAEQi6J7FtqkhP2tkFrcAfn8bqB1YcEgarRLoochGBz1sjCvAI986c3rbd41ihQ6dJjKQu5hs0N0sjMNRerK5jRF0HfnHspTYOOoJEtxEKW1sgzH9eG8h-
wTlmgbe7OC0OqbpAvtLKqyodmFMRM4sS1DbBLxXvgQAd41aSvMQ/w3403-h5110/_G8H5010.jpeg?w=
640&ssl=1)

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