On the short list of most influential blues artists, John Lee Hooker is way up near the top, his acolytes including the likes of The Rolling Stones, Canned Heat, George Thorogood, Bonnie Raitt, Carlos Santana and so many others. Although he was somewhere around 60 when he turned up at Hunter College in New York City in February 1976 (his birthdate was a topic of some conjecture), his persona was so primal and timeless that it often seemed as though Hooker was as ancient as the blues itself and had always been here. What was not up for debate was that by the time of this emblematic performance, he’d been recording for just under 30 years, and he’d amassed a discography that virtually comprised its own branch of blues— one that straddled the music’s rural roots, earning him invitations to countless folk festivals and its more modern, electric cousin, making him right at home at a big-city college like this. Hooker was an economical, unfussy guitarist, choosing his licks carefully, and a charismatic singer; from the first tentative shuffle he plucks out at this solo date, he is electrifying in the true sense of the word. There’s not only a darkness inherent in his presentation, but also joy, as the artist rambles through such now-standards as “One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer,” “Boom Boom,” “Boogie Chillun” and “Crawlin’ King Snake,” which serves as the finale. Hooker, as the album’s title makes clear, is unaccompanied throughout his show, but never is there a sense that something is missing—he values space in his playing as much as he does a gutsy riff, a lesson some of those who’ve turned his inventions into chest[1]thumping, beer-swilling music might learn from. Several tunes here—“I’ll Never Get Out of These Blues Alive”— are so minimal as to be nearly silent at times, but they say more than most artists do in a lifetime.