Have you noticed how with some musical instruments it seems plenty of people can acquire a level of competence, but the number who can take it to the next level are few and far between. There's something about the instrument that it takes dedication or talent for the player to distinguish themselves from the field either by their sound or their inventiveness.

The more that I hear it being played the more convinced I am that blues harmonica is such an instrument. There are plenty of people out there who are capable of playing along with a band, keeping the beat, and throwing in a solo or two when the song requires it. Yet, for the most part, one player is interchangeable with the rest as very few have a real distinct style anymore. It seems odd that an instrument that looks to be so intimate when being played, has produced so few players who seem to be able to imbue their playing with a character unique to themselves.

So, I have to confess to feeling less than enthusiastic about listening to the new CD recorded by Mississippi Heat, Hattiesburg Blues, on Delmark Records when I saw the cover photo of a man in a Panama hat cradling a harmonica in his hands. Those misgivings were slightly mitigated when I flipped the package over and saw a listing of the various players who had contributed to the album's creation, as I recognized among them some of the finest players on the Chicago blues scene, including one of my favourite guitar players Lurrie Bell.

In a genre replete with a history of unique individuals, Mississippi Heat band leader, song writer, and harmonica player Pierre Lacocque's story alone is enough to warrant his inclusion in their number. Born in Israel, he was raised in his parents' home country of Belgium from 1957 until 1969 when his father, a Protestant minister, was offered a job in Chicago as a professor of Old Testament studies at the Chicago Theological Seminary.

Pierre had been listening to the music of people like Ray Charles, Otis Redding and Aretha Franklin on the radio long before he came to America. He received his first harmonica, a plastic toy, when he was three years old, and still remembers the feelings of sadness that its sound was able to provoke in him. Still, it wasn't until his family moved to Chicago that he heard a harmonica played live through an amplifier. It probably didn't hurt that the first player he heard was Big Walter Horton, but he was blown away and felt like he had found his calling.

Passion became obsession, and he took to practicing his harmonica six to seven hours a day while in high school. Fate has a funny way of dealing with people's lives, and although he formed a couple of bands during his university days in Montreal, Canada, it was getting stiffed by a promoter during that time that put his dream on hold. Instead he became a social worker and worked as a clinician in the Pilsen neighbourhood of Chicago for ten years, until 1988.