In the contemporary rap and hip-hop scene, there sure seems to be an awful lotof artists whose names begin with a truncated diminutive description: Lil Baby, Lil Durk, Lil Uzi Vert, Lil Yachty, Lil Nas X, and Lil Xan just to name a few. Going back a few years, there’s Lil Wayne, Lil’ Kim, Lil Jon, Lil’ Romeo, Lil’ Bow Wow. And let’s not forget Houston’s own Lil’ Flip and Lil’ Troy.
But predating all of them (and probably the actual littlest at just 5’4” in height) is one Lil’ Ed Williams. The 70-year-old Chicago-based blues singer/guitarist with a penchant for playing slide first appeared on disc in 1987 as part of the Alligator Records compilation The New Bluebloods with his backing band The Blues Imperials.
Given the chance to record two songs by label founder Bruce Iglauer, there was plenty of studio time left. So, the band blazed through 30 songs in three hours with no overdubs. Ten of those became their debut album, Roughousin’ (which was actually released a year earlier in 1986).
Later this month, Lil’ Ed & the Blues Imperials will give the world their tenth Alligator studio album, Slideways. It’s also their first release in the same number of years. When the man is asked himself how it stands out from his discography via Zoom from his home in the suburbs north of Chicago, he answers quickly.
“Well, that’s the new old Lil’ Ed on that one!” he laughs. “The other stuff was good, but this is me going in a couple of different directions. I’m doing some really good sliding techniques different from how I would normally play it.”
Williams co-produced Slideways with Iglauer, and notes that his boss “challenged him” during the recording. And that meant getting Williams to pick a lot more single notes on the songs. “It’s usually more Elmore James, Jimmy Reed, and Hound Dog Taylor full slide style.
Those cats didn’t do a lot of picking. You got to really know where you’re going with that!” he laughs.
The material reliably runs the gamut from slide workouts (“One Foot on the Brake, One on the Gas,” “If I Should Lose Your Love”), boogie (first single “Bad All By Myself,” “The Flirt in the Car Wash Skirt”), scorchers (“13th Street and Trouble”), shuffles (“Cold Side of the Bed”), “advice” tunes (“Make a Pocket for Your Grief,” “You Can’t Strike Gold from a Silver Mine”), and torch songs (“Wayward Women”).
But one takes on a deeper meaning. “Homeless Blues” is a traditional melody that Williams wrote new lyrics for. He stumbled across the original—by obscure bluesman Willie “Long Time” Smith—on the radio.
“It made me think about the homeless people in Chicago and what I see when I’m riding down the street. They are walking and looking for some place to go, and they can’t find it even though there are so many shelters and places that will take them in. But they can’t get in there or just don’t want to go. It’s kind of sad,” he says.
The lineup on the album remains the same core four as for the past nearly 40 years: Lil’ Ed Williams (vocals/lead guitar), James “Pookie” Young (bass), Mike Garrett (guitar), and Kelly Littleton (drums). Ben Levin contributes piano and organ throughout.
“At this point, I tell everybody we’re not blues musicians, we’re brothers. We communicate through our music. That’s the real deal!” Williams says.
Growing up on the West Side of Chicago, Williams and Young (his half-brother) were steeped in the music literally by blood. Their uncle was famed bluesman J.B. Hutto. Fascinated by Hutto’s slide work, Williams cottoned to it, and he and Young formed the first lineup of the Blues Imperials in 1975.
The early gigs weren’t plentiful or profitable—they once split a $6 take four ways. And Williams continued to work up to 10 hours a day as a buffer at a local car wash. They then came to the attention of Iglauer, and soon Williams put down the polishing rag forever. Dedicated fans—including talk show host Conan O’Brien, who’s had the band on his shows several times—became known as “Ed Heads.”
Concerning Houston, Williams says he’s played “many times” here over the years and especially likes The Big Easy. He was also in Texas last year to film an episode of Austin City Limits.
Finally, blues music—like every other genre—has its various splinters. Chicago electric blues is far different from Mississippi or Piedmont acoustic blues, and Texas, Tennessee and California all tweak the formula a bit. But a general ear might lump it all together. Or assume something of a backwards timeline when it comes to originators and influences.
Williams chuckles when he recalls playing gigs at Chicago’s Kingston Mines club, with a mostly white clientele.
“There’s a lot of youngsters who go there. And every guy comes up to me and say ‘You play just like Stevie Ray Vaughan, man! That’s so cool!’ And I’m like ‘Have you ever heard of Muddy Waters? Albert King? John Lee Hooker?’ It always amazes me!” he laughs. “I just think the younger generations see one thing, and they lean on it.”
This article appears in Private: Jan 1 – Dec 31, 2026.