"I practiced what I preached," Amos Milbum told me last July, referring to his old hits, hits like "Bad, Bad Whiskey," "Let Me Go Home, Whiskey," and "One Scotch, One Bourbon, One Beer."

"I was a heavy drinker. I loved that Scotch. And the devil kept tellin' me: Go on, Amos, drink all you want to, it'll never hurt you none. I drank myself into two strokes." It was a low, faint voice that spoke. It bore little resemblance to that cool, tough Amos Milburn voice of 25, 30 years ago, that voice that bespoke the ceaseless saxophones of salvation, the crossing and uncrossing of tangible nylon knees, the eightfold path of the unfiltered Kool, and the miracle of Our Lady of the After-Hours Joint. But the party has been over for years now.