Son House played the blues like a preacher possessed -- all fire, no polish. He was a Baptist preacher who found the blues more honest than the pulpit. His slide guitar wasn't technique. It was exorcism. Death Letter Blues is the sound of a man receiving the worst news of his life and singing it out in real time.

He taught Robert Johnson. He taught Muddy Waters. He played with an intensity that made the stage feel like a church and the music feel like confession. Then he vanished for two decades -- gave up music entirely, moved to Rochester, New York, worked for the railroad. The folk revival tracked him down in 1964.

He walked back onto a stage after 20 years away, sat down with his steel-bodied National guitar, and played Death Letter Blues like he'd never stopped. The young folk audience -- kids who'd only read about the Delta blues in books -- sat in stunned silence. The fire was still there. The preacher hadn't lost his congregation. He just found a new one.

Son House was the link between Charley Patton and the modern blues. He taught Robert Johnson and Muddy Waters. He walked away from music for two decades and came back more powerful than when he left. Death Letter Blues is a man receiving the worst news and singing it out. The fire never went out.