Slideways arrives as a full-throated reminder of what Lil’ Ed Williams and the Blues Imperials have spent nearly four decades perfecting. Loud rooms. Long nights. No shortcuts. The album finds the band sounding fearless, loose, and locked in, playing Chicago blues with the kind of conviction that only comes from years on the road together.

That reputation has long been earned. The Chicago Tribune once called Williams “a slide guitarist extraordinaire… electrifying and raucous,” adding that he represents “one of the few authentic links to pure Chicago blues.” DownBeat went further, praising his “outrageous, forceful Chicago blues slide-guitar." Blues Revue captured the full impact, describing his playing as “muscular, scalding, explosive guitar… incendiary soul played with fiery intensity."

Williams has always carried a direct line to the roots of Chicago slide guitar. Raised in the shadow of his uncle J.B. Hutto and inspired by Elmore James and Hound Dog Taylor, his playing favors feel over polish, muscle over flash. That approach still hits with full force here. His slide cuts sharp and dirty, his bends dig deep, and his vocals carry the grit of someone who has lived inside these songs for a long time.

The Blues Imperials remain a perfect match. Bassist James “Pookie” Young, guitarist Mike Garrett, and drummer Kelly Littleton play with the kind of instinct that only comes from decades on the road together. They push and pull around Williams, leaving space when the song calls for it and kicking hard when it is time to lean in. The result feels immediate and physical, like a band playing to a packed club rather than a studio control room.

Co-produced by Williams and Alligator founder Bruce Iglauer, Slideways runs hot and fast across 13 tracks, 12 of them written or co-written by Williams. The set moves easily between full-throttle boogies, tough shuffles, and slow blues that cut straight to the bone. Several songs are anchored by deep, old-school keyboard work from Ben Levin.

Lyrically, the album stays grounded in everyday truths. Williams sings about bad decisions, busted relationships, restless nights, and small victories earned the hard way. There is humor, heartbreak, and no shortage of sharp-eyed storytelling. From the swagger of "Bad All By Myself" to the menace of "13th Street and Trouble," the mischief of "Flirt in the Car Wash Skirt," and the stripped-down ache of "Homeless Blues," each song feels lived-in and honest.