The Hard Line [CD]

Chris O’Leary is a strong man. He’s a battle-hardened Marine Veteran and former federal cop who can kick ass on a roadhouse bandstand or concert stage. He delivers his original songs—some humorous and some heartbreaking—in his forceful voice, filled with honest emotion. His blues harp playing can be aggressive and brash, but he has the strength to reveal his vulnerability when he confesses I Cry At Night. His stories in his songs draw us in. His music reflects his life.

Chris fell in love with blues as a boy, and was later blessed to learn from and to play with legends. Now he lives the life of a touring road warrior, and has grown to be a formidable musical force.

I met Chris when he was singing and playing harmonica with Levon Helm’s Barnburners, a blues band put together by The Band’s legendary drummer in 1997. I had met Levon when Muddy Waters brought me to play with him on the sessions for The Woodstock Album and The Last Waltz. Chris and I discovered we loved the same music and we became friends, plus we have that Levon connection. Levon’s wife Sandy tells me Chris and The Barnburners really helped Levon at a hard time, while Chris insists he owes Levon everything. So, who is Chris O’Leary? He amplifies in his own words…

“My parents’ home had all kinds of music playing all the time. A pivotal moment came when I was eleven or twelve and my father got me the most important piece of recorded music in my life, Hard Again, with Muddy Waters, Johnny Winter, and legendary harmonica player James Cotton. I heard Cotton and I was hooked. My dad also got me my first Marine Band harp. (Bob: I played guitar on Hard Again. My first impression of The Hard Line is how much Chris’ tone sounds like Cotton’s on Hard Again. Chris and Cotton also share a “Go get ‘em!” attitude.) In 1982, my dad had brought me to my first concert at the Palace Theater in Albany. It was The Band on their first tour without Robbie Robertson—another hugely formative experience.

“What attracted me to Cotton’s playing is also what drew me to the Marine Corps infantry. It’s hard and brutal, real as real gets. Going to war and facing my own mortality and the mortality of the Marines in my squad was another huge formative experience in my life. I’ve written many songs that derive from my experiences as a Marine and after as a veteran. I try to write songs about what I know, and what’s important to me. In the end, I can only be me.

“After the Corps I went to college in the Hudson Valley. I found a thriving blues scene around Poughkeepsie, New York, a place where my love for Muddy Waters, James Cotton and Little Walter was not the exception but the rule. I formed blues bands with my friends.

“Fast forward, I’m making a demo and some of the rough mixes made their way to Levon’s ears. Levon came to the studio to play on one song, but didn’t want to leave. We played blues all night. Pretty soon we got a call from Butch Dener, Levon’s road manager, telling us we needed to be at Levon’s studio, the Barn, at 1 p.m. the next day. He told us to hold on to our asses, things were about to get crazy. Another pivotal moment…

“Levon asked us to move to New Orleans to be the house band at his club on the corner of Decatur and Bienville. That’s the inspiration behind Funky Little Club on this album. I played blues five nights a week with Levon behind the kit and his daughter Amy sharing vocals with me. I was playing a packed room every night with a legend. The food, the culture, the people, and mostly the music struck a chord with me much like Hard Again had done decades earlier. It opened up new musical possibilities within the blues tradition. To this day, it’s my favorite place in the world.

“I toured with Levon and the Barnburners for six or seven of the best years of my life. During this time, I met and got to be friends with James Cotton, my idol—why I played harmonica, why I play music at all! This applies to Levon as well: It’s rare when your heroes actually exceed your expectations. I had built these men up in my head to be larger than life and both of them were that and then some, generous with their time and advice, kind and supportive. I say this about them nightly, but I don’t say it lightly. The world is a lesser place without them in it.

“At the end of a long tour, my time with the Barnburners came to a screeching halt. I was diagnosed with nodes on my vocal cords and advised to stop singing or I could lose my voice permanently. Life then took over. I got a job as a federal police officer for thirteen years. During that time, I got married and divorced, and didn’t play music for seven years. The birth of my baby boy, Jackson, is the greatest event of my life. My outlook on just about everything changed when I became a father.

“But the time away from performing made me appreciate how much my heart and soul were in music. The police job was going through the motions, paying the bills. In 2010, I held down this full-time, demanding job, but I rebuilt my music career up to playing over a hundred nights a year worldwide. I switched shifts with other officers who wanted to hunt and fish and built up time to tour. I once played a West Coast festival only hours after having emergency appendix surgery, but soon after finishing the tour, a raging infection took me away from the police job for three weeks. The writing was on the wall.

“I also didn’t want my son Jackson to grow up watching his father be a fake at anything. How could I tell him to pursue his dreams while I worked a job I hated, knowing I was meant for something else? Old injuries I sustained at Jump School helped me make up my mind. It became more difficult to meet my day job’s physical standards. So, I left the police force and performed even more often, until I was supporting my family with the music I love.

“When the pandemic hit, I got custody of my son, spent two years with just him, and wrote a lot of music. Now I’ve found the perfect woman with two kids of her own. I’ve finally found the right balance of family, work, and creativity. I bust my ass, but I love all I do—teaching and raising my son, being there for my family, playing music with my fantastic band, writing songs, booking the band and traveling. It’s a 24/7 job. Alligator has been a lifelong goal and it’s the icing on the cake. It’s been a journey and then some, but life is good!”

—Bob Margolin