New Orleans is filled with artists from all over the world who discovered their true creative and spiritual home in the Crescent City. Many a first-time visitor to the Big Easy, upon soaking up such pleasures as a plate of boiled crawfish, a stroll on the banks of the Mississippi River, or the smell of blooming magnolias down Esplanade Avenue, fall under the city's spell. Veteran bluesman Johnny Sansone had done his share of traveling, honing his craft in the Austin, Colorado, North Carolina, and Kansas City blues scenes, but after he set up camp in New Orleans in 1989, you'd swear he was born on the bayou.

Sansone already had established himself as a practitioner of hardcore wrecking-ball power Chicago blues, with his massive harmonica tone recalling Windy City giants Big Walter and Little Walter. Guitar virtuoso Ronnie Earl tapped Sansone as the frontman for his band the Broadcasters for a stretch in the late '80s, where the pair backed giants Jimmy Rogers, Robert Jr. Lockwood, Hubert Sumlin, and Pinetop Perkins. Sansone also mined the blueprint of Arkansas legend Sonny Boy Williamson II, blowing piercing country-blues squalls with unwavering authority.

When Sansone hit Louisiana, he connected with the source of the Gulf Coast sounds that also inspired him: the R&B of Guitar Jr. (AKA Lonnie Brooks), the bilingual zydeco and blues of Clifton Chenier, and the deep swamp sounds of Excello bluesmen Slim Harpo and Lazy Lester. Those touchstones crystallized on Sansone's 1997 Bullseye CD Crescent City Moon, a Louisiana song cycle that displayed Sansone's burgeoning accordion skills, insightful songwriting, and new musical vision. In addition to heaps of glowing national press, the album struck a chord with New Orleans listeners, and won blues album of the year and song of the year (for the title track) from New Orleans music magazine Offbeat.

Watermelon Patch picks up where Crescent City Moon left off, with a fresh batch of Sansone originals. In addition to smokin' longtime Sansone guitarist Rick Olivarez, who cuts a wide swath of textures, fills, and memorable solos, a who's-who of the Louisiana roots-music scene is along for the ride. The rhythm section of drummer Kenneth Blevins and bassists Dave Ranson powered John Hiatt's seminal Slow Turning album and have collectively played with such luminaries as Shawn Colvin, Sonny Landreth, influential Cajun-rock band Coteau, and South Louisiana supergroup Lil' Band of Gold. The dual pianists -- each solo artists in their own right -- also boast heavy-duty resumes; Jon Cleary has worked with the likes of B.B. King, Bonnie Raitt, and Taj Mahal, and Joe Krown has manned the keyboard chair in Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown's band for the past six years. Top it off with the double-tenor sax frontline of Joe Cabral and Derek Huston of the Iguanas, and the trumpet of trad-jazz master Duke Heitger, and you've got a Louisiana dream team.

But this was no hastily assembled crew hired for a cut-and-paste job in the studio. Years of friendship and mutual respect are the common bonds with this collection of players, and when it came time to roll tape, everything clicked with an intuitive immediacy. The bulk of the album was cut live, in one day.

The stamp of that musical telepathy covers Watermelon Patch like kudzu. The zydeco-flavored tracks ("Think of Me," "Mon Fleur," "Comin' For Sure") pack the melodic joy and ensemble wallop of Buckwheat Zydeco's early recordings, and the rhythm section clears out a huge pocket for Sansone and Olivarez's searing leads on the title track. Jon Cleary weaves a Latin-tinged percussion through "Quagmire," the band locks into some classic New Orleans second-line rhythms on "Loveline," and Krown and Sansone go deep on the Chicago blues of "Civilized City."

And harmonica fans should strap themselves in for the chromatic instrumentals, "Pig's Feet and Tail Meat" and "Stink Bait," two of the nastiest, filthiest, down-in-the-gutter subterranean blues you'll ever hear, with Sansone's primeval tone roaring like a screaming pterodactyl.

In addition to his instrumental prowess, what ultimately distinguishes Sansone from the current pack of contemporary harp men is his original compositions. Witness the Wild West-metaphor in "Civilized City," the succinctly crafted chorus and phrasing on "The Bridge," and the full-circle narrative of "Neutral Ground." Whether he's applying those kinds of touches to a stone-blues or a zydeco barnburner, the end result is a unique, highly personal sound. Johnny Sansone's Watermelon Patch makes for sweet listening. -- Scott Jordan