Another performer in line with Eric Von Schmidt – and no, there’s no reason both have two-part last names – Dave Van Ronk seems just as important as his Massachusetts counterpart. Both were engaged in revitalizing and reinterpreting a folk and blues song book, kinda like updating The American Anthology of Folk Music. Apparently it worked as each player, while not as widely known as Bob Dylan, worked to influence the first crop of folksy artists during the sixties.

Van Ronk recorded a few more albums than his northern contemporary. That might on occasion mean that quality was compromised, but seeing as the vast majority of the tracks caught on tape were written by other folks and count as standards, there’s really nothing to balk at over the course of Van Ronk’s catalog.

Beginning with 1959’s Ballads, Blues, and a Spiritual, Van Ronk seems possessed with the acumen afforded only to players working out a unique style. But in the guitarist’s reverence for auld tyme fair, Van Ronk was able to learn a bit, first hand, from Rev. Gary Davis. And on the younger’s first album, “Oh, What a Beautiful City,” better known as Davis’ “Twelve Gates to the City,” it becomes rather surprising that a city dweller was able to approximate the raspy singing, if not necessarily the musical performance, of the original.

For his 1963 album Dave Van Ronk, Folksinger, the guitarist begins with two compositions that pretty much everyone should be familiar with regardless of whether or not acoustic music counts as regular listening. The biblical “Samson and Delialah,” another Davis staple opens the disc with “Cocaine Blues” following it in dour, tones. The vocal delivery on that latter track’s a bit surprising, but even if Van Ronk’s hushed talking seems odd at first, it winds up fitting the song pretty well.

The following year, 1964, found Van Ronk being asked to wrestle up a jug band for Ragtime Jug Stompers. Surely, the album comes off as something of a novelty now. But the musical tradition represented here needed to be caught on tape as understood by a second or third generation of players. And if you can get over hearing kazoo works like “Stealin’,” “K.C. Moan” and “You’re a Viper” should do the trick.

These aforementioned discs by no means comprise the majority of Van Ronk’s catalog. Each sports a slightly varied approach to Americana. And if they each seem pretty decent, there’s probably more out there to enjoy.