Eli Catlin at his home in Haydenville.
Eli Catlin at his home in Haydenville. Credit: Gazette Staff/Carol Lollis

Eli Caitlin might be just 21, but he’s got the chops and poise of someone a good bit older. The acoustic blues guitarist and singer began taking guitar lessons at 9 years old, and by 12 was already landing gigs. Today he’s steeped in the sound of people like Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, Robert Johnson, Jimmy Reed and others blues legends.

He opens shows at Northampton’s Iron Horse Music Hall and plays a regular gig at the Alvah Stone restaurant in Montague on Friday and Saturday nights.

Catlin, of Haydenville, offers his own fluid interpretations of traditional tunes, as well as original songs. Recently, he says, he’s been delving into the “American primitive” fingerstyle guitar music of John Fahey, Jack Rose, Daniel Bachman and others.

“To me, most of my music sounds like a mix of early country, folk, blues,” says Catlin, who also paints and draws. “These days I go totally acoustic and if there’s a sound system involved, I use one mic that my voice, harmonica and guitar all go through.”

Steve Pfarrer: What is your creative process like?

Eli Catlin: In the case of writing a song with lyrics, it usually starts by just picking up the guitar and finding something I like, a melody or riff, and then singing something over it without thinking about it, just whatever comes out of my mouth. Once I like how it’s sounding, I’ll try to find words that actually mean something to me.

S.P.: Does it start with a “Eureka!” moment?

E.C.: Occasionally it does. I wish it did more, because I find it very thrilling when it happens … and I question myself less.

S.P.: What do you do when you get stuck?

E.C.: I’ll usually go into a phase of listening to more music, either going back to some of my favorites or finding new music (to me) that I like and figuring out why I like it. I’ll also sometimes take my focus off of music and do more photography, painting and drawing.

S.P.: How do you know when the work is done?

E.C.: Sometimes it just feels right. Sometimes I don’t think something’s done, but then I’ll look back at it and realize it is. And sometimes I’m ready to call something done, but then I do something different with it and realize it was missing that.