Stanky as a pair of John Lee Hooker's three-day-old underpants and mysterious as the whereabouts of his teeth, the self-titled debut from Sam Coomes' Blues Goblins is virtually assured to leave longtime Quasi fans and ardent blues purists alike scratching their heads in wonderment. Eschewing Quasi's Roxichord-driven goth-gloom for raw-boned blues power, Coomes' first Blues Goblins voyage is a rollicking psychedelic blues fiesta that at times recalls the primordial soup/slop of the Paul Butterfield Blues Band's The Resurrection of Pigboy Crabshaw. Amazingly, his wracked and warped post-millennial vision of American blues rings true -- you can't help but get swept up in the tales of harangue and misfortune as Coomes reinterprets, vilifies and bastardizes blues standards by torchbearers Charley Patton, Muddy Waters and Leadbelly. Sex/Sax-infused slices of sleaze "I Ask for Water" and "Rollin & Tumblin" are pure skunk-blues -- all tainted slide-guitar, gutbucket vocals and bad hoodoo voodoo. He's probably the last person you'd think of when you think of the blues, but Coomes has acquitted himself to the genre rather mightily -- and perhaps more importantly, righteously.