With me is guitar virtuoso Ladell McLin and producer/Gigantic chief Brian Devine. We are listening to a cut of “Hey Joe,” one that subsequently did not appear on Ladell’s debut album for Gigantic Stand Out. Having just retired from the Knitting Factory, where the CD release party for said album took place, everyone in the room is riding high and sharing a sense of exhilaration. The haze filling the control booth certainly loosens the vibe, and Ladell is relaxing in front of the huge console enjoying the opportunity to play this track for his guests. The perfectly balanced sound hits my ears, and I find myself transported to my own state of euphoria. Back in my apartment, I’m listening to Stand Out after a vigorous conversation with a buddy about the decline of checks and balances in modern political process. I’m reminded of 1968; a similar cultural climate, a questionable war effort, a burgeoning political underclass, and the iconographic pillars of society that defined a generation. One can’t help but compare McLin to one such magnum, Jimi Hendrix, so we might as well get it over with. Yes, Ladell’s music bears striking resemblance to that of Hendrix, and no, there is nothing wrong with that.

Before one writes off Ladell McLin as a novelty act, a little background information is in order. The lightening blues emanating from McLin’s fingers have a history steeped in more than emulation. He hails from that bastion of Blues, Chicago’s South Side. In his spare time, McLinn faithfully practiced his guitar, playing along with Chuck Berry, Van Halen and Jimi Hendrix albums. A chance opportunity to sit in with his brother’s band mates led Ladell to a gig with Fernando Jones.

He went on to share the stage with Blues legends Lefty Dizz, James “Blood” Ulmer, Derek Trucks and Pine Top Perkins. His skills earned him a spot in Jones’ band and appearances at Buddy Guy’s Legends. The club booker recognized Ladell’s progress and he was soon offered a soloist slot. It was on the Legends stage that McLin cut his teeth, sharing the spotlight with the superclub’s namesake, as well as Johnny “Guitar” Watson and Koko Taylor.

Hendrix was the voice of the disenchanted and disillusioned because he was not afraid to address the issues of the day. A refreshing aspect of Stand Out is the urgency expressed by sonic and lyrical content that speaks to this generation. Album opener “Rich Man’s Lounge” kicks off with a rousing “Wake Up!” and proceeds to weave a dialogue about the improprieties of the modern American caste system.

Sometimes it’s not the lyrics, but the delivery that makes the statement. Approaching AC/DC’s classic “TNT” with a uniquely blues drawl, Ladell reminds me of the Vietnam boat captain holding lit explosives in a tight grip while the fuse burns dangerously close to ignition. His laidback approach to the dynamite song is just plain cool. Delivering lines like the USPS delivers snail-mail, he lackadaisically struts his way through the track without a hint of the ultimate climax. Release inevitably comes in the final forty seconds as McLin erupts in what can only be described as guitar’s answer to Nobel’s big boom stick.

McLin’s debut should rightfully shine through the shadow of his closest contemporary. If you can’t see past the similarities, at least take note of his stirring six-string skills. Ladel McLin is an original, and one listen of Stand Out shows the results of a lifetime of calluses and sweat. He has had to overcome much adversity to release this debut, and he deserves to be appreciated as an individual.

If you’re a fan of the Blues, and particularly enamored with face melting guitar solos, Stand Out is an album that should hold a place of honor in your crowded record collection. Keep it on the top of the pile, listen over and again, and maybe you too will feel inspired to face daily challenges with the spirit of a true maverick.