August 1, 2025      —–     Chart #309

Dear Blues Travelers,

Today’s tune is as thick and sultry as a Mississippi afternoon, the kind of song you play when the sky’s darkening, the bottle’s half-empty, and somebody just told you they’re leaving—again. We’re talking about “Feels Like Rain,” performed by the great Buddy Guy, a man who could wring heartbreak out of a Telecaster like it owed him money.

Now, Buddy didn’t write this one—that credit goes to John Hiatt, who’s been supplying musicians with emotional ammunition since the ‘70s. Hiatt wrote “Feels Like Rain” back in 1988 and recorded it himself on his Slow Turning album. But it was Buddy Guy’s 1993 version, with its smoldering groove and swampy sincerity, that made it hit different. His take on it felt less like a cover and more like a thunderstorm pulling up a chair and telling its story.

Buddy Guy, if you somehow don’t already know, is the walking, talking, still-shredding bridge between Muddy Waters and Jimi Hendrix. Born in Louisiana, raised on hot sauce and heartbreak, Buddy came up to Chicago in the ‘50s and basically took the blues and set it on fire with gasoline and feedback. He influenced everyone from Clapton to Stevie Ray Vaughan, and at the age when most folks are trying to find their reading glasses, Buddy’s still onstage making guitars beg for mercy.

“Feels Like Rain” appeared on his Grammy-winning album Feels Like Rain—a collection of blues ballads and stormy serenades that could fog up your windshield without touching the defrost.

It’s a slow burner. No hurry. Just Buddy’s voice—half velvet, half gravel—and guitar work that sounds like it’s been sitting in the sun all day with a secret to tell. The song itself is built for late-night reflection and second chances that probably won’t pan out. And the title? That’s not about weather. That’s about knowing something’s coming and you can’t stop it—be it heartbreak, consequence, or maybe just another round of bad decisions with good intentions.

Plenty of others have covered “Feels Like Rain,” too. Aaron Neville recorded a version with that quivering falsetto of his that could make a grown man confess to things he didn’t even do. Etta James sang it like a woman who’s been through the storm and came out wearing it like perfume. And John Hiatt’s own original take still hits like a slow train pulling into a station you were hoping to avoid.

For guitar players, this one’s about restraint. Don’t overplay it. Let it breathe. It’s in G, but the key is in the feel—not the notes. The chords are easy, but the trick is playing them like the world’s quietly falling apart around you.

So this week, turn off the weather report and cue up Buddy Guy. Let that slow groove roll in. Whether you’re nursing a bourbon or just watching the lightning out your window, this one’ll speak to you.

Because sometimes it doesn’t just look like rain. It feels like it.

Keep Rockin’,

Stan Bradshaw