Joe Bonamassa - Blues Deluxe Vol.2

And so Joe Bonamassa releases his second album of the year.  But where the live album Tales Of Time was (mostly) an epic, quasi-proggy sounding animal, Blues Deluxe Vol.2 does (mostly) what it says on the tin, as Bonamassa goes back to his blues roots.  And the first thing to be said is that this collection of eight covers and two originals is a perfectly enjoyable affair.  However . . .
What I like about it is that much of the time Bonamassa and his gang sound like they’re having a real good time.  Guitar Slim’s ‘Well, I Done Got Over It’, for example, is honest to goodness,

Joe Bonamassa leans into the blues

Pic by Adam Kennedy

swinging fun, with behind-the-beat drums from Lamar Carter and strolling bass from Calvin Turner, plus schmoozing horns and a neat shift in the backing to underpin JB’s solo.  The following ‘I Want To Shout About It’ underlines the point, hinting at Sam Cooke and even Fats Domino in its swaying soulfulness, all burbling bass, lazy beat and good-time backing vocals – but amped up into an R’n’B swinger of a very Springsteen-esque disposition, with Federici-like organ from Reese Wynans, sparkling guitar play from Bonamassa, and hell, even a sassy sax solo from Paulie Cerra to brighten your day.
‘Lazy Poker Blues’ simplifies things even further, shuffling along briskly and giving a jolt of 21^st century electricity to the Fleetwood Mac boogie, with some piercing guitar from Joey boy and barroom piano stylings from Wynans to generate even more of a party mode.  Meantime ‘Hope You Realize It (Goodbye Again)’ goes uptempo in a different, funkier direction, with lots of drive and oomph powered along by Turner’s motoring bass, before downshifting into a jazzier, horn-inflected bridge to introduce Bonamassa’s solo.
When it comes to slower stuff, the album opens with ‘Twenty-Four Hour Blues’, originally recorded by Bobby ‘Blue’ Bland.  And very good it is too, with sweeps of strings recalling Bland’s stylings, with Bonamassa’s confident delivery demonstrating just how much his vocals have improved over the years.  All the same, he can’t quite match the languid soulfulness Bobby had at his disposal, though he does make up for it with some sizzling soloing.  In a similar vein, while Paul Rodgers would surely make a better fist of Albert King’s ‘You Sure Drive A Hard Bargain’, Bonamassa has a good enough shot at it for you to imagine it being an outtake from Rodgers’ Royal Sessions album.
‘Win-O’ is a proper slow blues, in a reflective rather than elegiac vein.  However – remember that however up top? – I could live without the horns that pop up to gild the lily with squirting interjections now and then.  And same applies to ‘The Truth Hurts’, a Kenny Neal song on which both Kirk Fletcher and Josh Smith turn up to supply guest vocals and guitar, but which suffers from a so-so arrangement on which the horns again take up too much space, distracting from the contributions of the three guitar honchos, which should surely be the USP of the track.
Also however, and not for the first time, I feel like Bonamassa has got overly used to the presence of backing vocals filling out songs.  They make good contributions at times here, but are they really necessary on ‘Is It Safe To Go Home’, the closing track written by Josh Smith? It’s an archetypal Bonamassa epic slow blues, on which he delivers a good, committed vocal, but those swelling backing voices and the strings (or string-sounding keys) take it away from the rootsy mood and back towards the widescreen stylings of Tales Of Time.
So like I said, Blues Deluxe Vol.2 is a perfectly enjoyable album.  But I think it’s time for Joe Bonamassa to let go of a few over-familiar elements of his recent sound, and shake things up more.  Go on Joe, and surprise us!
 
Blues Deluxe Vol.2 is out now, and can be ordered here.

Brian Setzer - The Devil Always Collects

Same old same old – but still great fun!  That pretty much sums up The Devil Always Collects, the new album from Brian Setzer of Stray Cats fame.  To listen to this album is to enter a time warp back to the 50s and maybe early 60s, guided by a guy who was only born during that period, but who has been inhabiting it for over 40 years now.  And his love for the sounds and vibes of that rock’n’roll explosion shines through.
There are tunes here that are pure Stray Cats in feel, and if they can’t magic up the sense of brash novelty that the trio conveyed way back in the 80s, they’re still belters.  The opener ‘Rock Boys Rock’ is driven along by rattling drums and rocking stand-up bass from Victor Indrizzo and David Spicher, punctuated by whooping and hollering vocal interpolations from Jennifer Goforth

Brian Setzer - Rock boy, rock!

 and/or Setzer’s missus Julie, while the man himself knocks out a scorching rockabilly guitar solo.  There’s a tug o’war going on between the verses and chorus on ‘Psycho Suzie’, as the drums and bass get another good skelping on a rockabilly workout in support of Setzer twanging and surging his way around with licks galore.
‘One Particular Chick’ isn’t quite ‘Stray Cat Strut’ revisited, but it’s still a finger-snapping woozy stroll down the sidewalk on a sultry evening, with Setzer merrily crooning away about clicking at first sight with the chick of the title.  Best of all though, is the hoot that is ‘Girl On The Billboard’.  Its lyrics may be cartoonish, but they’re still breath-sappingly brilliant as Setzer delivers them like a hepped-up, rock’n’rollin’ Johnny Cash, over backing that bounces along in irresistible fashion, this time with Jimmy Lee Sloas wielding electric bass.
But there’s more variety on offer with the likes of ‘The Living Dead’, another languid ballad but this time with a spooky vibe like a David Lynch soundtrack, ooh-oohing female backing vocals adding to the atmosphere as Setzer adopts his crooning tone once again.  Better still though is ‘She’s Got A Lotta . . . Soul!’, which lives up to its title with horn-drenched sassiness over a Peter Gunn-like bassline and Bo Diddley-leaning rhythm to provide a dance-like-no-one’s-watching opportunity.
Elsewhere there’s a cover of Nick Lowe’s ‘Play That Fast Thing (One More Time) that carries more than a hint of Rockpile as it skips along at mid-pace, and though the verses may be a bit so-so the chorus has a hook fit to land a marlin.  ‘Black Leather Jacket’ is a “gotta have the rumble” romance, with the eponymous jacket just one of the objects of the hero’s affection as he reflects on weaving down the road on his motorsickel, dicing with Dead Man’s Curve.  Meanwhile ‘The Devil Always Collects’ may be a low-down, rumbling warning against deals with El Diablo, but it still cracks along at a hectic pace.  (By the by, something about this track keeps putting me in mind of Whitesnake's 'Hot Stuff'.  Go figure!)
Sure, this is unreconstructed old-time rock’n’roll.  Sure, the songs can get a bit silly on the wordsmithing front now and then.  But the talents of Setzer and his band of compadres, bring this stuff to vibrant life sufficiently to ignore a few sub-par moments.  Still bequiffed, still committed, still rockin’.
 
The Devil Always Collects is out now on Surfdog Records, and can be ordered here.

Dom Martin - Buried In The Hail

Personality. Originality. Talent.
There isn’t a simple formula for making standout, attention-grabbing music, but I reckon those three qualities will probably get you a long way – and Dom Martin has them in spades, as his third album Buried In The Hail demonstrates.
This isn’t yer common-or-garden blues-rock album.  Dom Martin goes his own way, right from the start.  ‘Hello In There’ is a dreamy, zephyr-like opener, Martin’s folkie acoustic guitar picking

Dom Martin gets electrified

Pic by Tony Cole

conjuring up a pastoral mood, embellished by faint background noises like children’s voices in a playground.  And he doesn’t feel the need to make a grand statement at the other end of the album either, where ‘Laid To Rest’ is the dying fall its title would suggest.  Over minimalist tapped out percussion, punctuated by an unusual harp-like springing noise, Martin picks away at a sparse, repetitive guitar line, with a tone that’s almost banjo-like in its brittle steeliness.  And that’s all folks.
As on his previous album A Savage Life, at times he draws on some John Martyn-like Celtic folk stylings in his own distinctive way, as on ‘Government’ and ‘The Fall’.  The former marries glistening acoustic guitar chords and a halting drumbeat to Martin’s gruff but sensitive vocal, as he intones a weary, mantra-like lyric about how “It’s time to call it a day” until the song stalls like an unwound clock.  Meanwhile ‘The Fall’ progresses from isolated, frost-bright strums of guitar into glittering picking like a winter stream, accompanying Martin’s patient, drawn-out vocals.  Has he overdubbed guitar parts to create the intricate guitar-scape that develops?  I dunno, but it sure sounds like there’s a whole lot of picking going on.
Things get more obviously bluesy on a few tracks.  ‘Daylight I Will Find’ has a rootsy vibe, as Martin rolls out tumbling acoustic blues guitar over a simple thudding beat, creating a swaying, hypnotic feel decorated by a few slide guitar fills, while he delivers a characterful vocal, full of good phrasing, about how “It’s been a long old road to ruin / Daylight I will find”.  ‘Howlin’’ has an old-fashioned Delta blues feel, with prickling-and-pointing electric guitar over snappily shuffling drums, creating something jaunty and irresistible.  ‘Buried In The Hail’ itself is a brooding, atmospheric affair that combines restrained electric guitar and Martin’s gruffest vocal, rumbling away in the murk of a stormy night, in a manner akin to a distant cousin of Zeppelin’s ‘Bring It On Home’.  And ‘Lefty 2 Guns’ is absorbing blues storytelling, with a simple, looping guitar line, hesitant bass, and dragging drums, until Martin’s gritty guitar takes off into SRV-ish territory with some scurrying soloing.
Martin can pack a punch too when he wants to though, as on ‘Belfast Blues’, on which his dirty, fuzzy guitar describes a ringing, revolving figure over a stomping drum rhythm that gradually acquires more character as it develops into a driving shuffle, while Martin groans out the vocal and adds dashes of slide.  On ‘Unhinged’, meanwhile, he cranks out some barbed, spiky guitar with squeals of added emphasis, crunches into a classic three chord progression at the end of each verse, before the guitar and drums start slamming into each other with controlled aggression, as a precursor to our Dom goes off on a soloing jaunt with Celtic undertones.
In the midst of all this there’s also a startling, sui generis cover of the Patsy Cline hit ‘Crazy’, which sounds like it’s been relocated from Nashville to a smoky Parisian cellar, with just twinkling guitar notes to accompany Martin’s slow, Tom Waits-like vocal, eventually giving way to some Gary Moore-like electric guitar divertissements over splashes of drums.
It may sound from some of this like there’s nothing dramatic happening here.  No crackerjack electric guitar show-offery.  No bouts of epic, cinematic grandeur.  No wailing vocals.  And that’s true – but at the same time everything is happening.  Like some musical Jedi, Dom Martin casts a spell and draws you into his web.  Buried In The Hail is the sound of a special talent.
 
Buried In The Hail is out now on Forty Below Records.

Starlite & Campbell - Starlite.One

Once upon a time there was the largely blues-rock focused Starlite Campbell Band.  Now there’s Starlite & Campbell - a minimalist bit of rebranding to introduce some new adventures in hi-fi from Suzy Starlite and Simon Campbell, reflecting different elements of their musical tastes.  But bearing in mind some of the influences they mentioned in a Gimme 5 feature in these columns, such as Tom Yorke of Radiohead and Laurie Anderson, I approached Starlite.One with some trepidation.
Needn’t have worried though, really.  Okay, so the sounds here aren’t always in my natural

Starlite & Campbell get windswept and interesting

Pic by Paul Husband

wheelhouse, but if the direction of travel is kinda art-proggy it’s never so outré as to be alienating.  They still like to produce appealing melodies and hooks, and they know how to combine instruments combine to produce good sounds.
Opening track ‘Saving Me’ has a link to their past selves, as Campbell’s crooning, patient vocal recalls the title track of their last studio album, The Language Of Curiosity, and it has a penetrating little guitar motif to bring cutting edge to its undercurrent of throbbing bassline and Kraftwerkisch bubbling and bleeping synth sounds, as well as one of the aforementioned appealing melodies.  And ‘The Voting Machine’ burbles along with motorik pulsing, augmented by washes of keyboards, and with injections of biting, twirling guitar themes.  But this time the singer is Suzy Starlite, with her clear, pure English voice redolent of . . . who?  Julie Covington, maybe?
Suzy’s vocal precision is also evident in the brief vignette that is ‘Everything’, with spot-on tuning and phrasing over minimalist keys.  And she also takes the lead on ‘The Coat’, singing yearningly and hesitantly as she captures images and emotions from a relationship in the process of breaking-up, over a backing of tooting keys and little else, except some interpolations of atmospheric drums from Hugo Danin.
There’s a more naturalistic air to the elegiac ‘Blow Them All To Pieces’, with a soft and wistful vocal from Campbell over simple acoustic strumming and harmonium-like keys, before the strumming takes a different, appealing turn.  With the addition of some Wakeman-esque twiddly synth it takes on a Yessy pastoral-meets-electronica vibe akin to, say, ‘Wondrous Stories’ – with added filigrees of flute.  Campell then revisits his crooning mode on ‘This Time (Is Gonna Be The Last Time)’, but bending it into a Scott Walker-ish timbre (Walker being another avowed person of interest to the duo) over more squelching, shoulder-twitching synth rhythms, given extra urgency by crisp Danin drumming.
Danin’s drum elaborations also help to ground ‘Shine On The Light On Me’, a love song set to Ultravox-esque electro-bleeping, with patient harmonising from Suzy and Simon, spoken word reflections from the former, and occasionally corny lyrics about “Splendiferous isolation, you are my constellation”.
Another vignette in the form of ‘Mother’, in which spooky, sci-fi backing blends in Vocoder-like vocalisation effects doesn’t really do it for me.  But the closing ‘A Part Of Me Is Broken (Part 2) is edgily convincing, with solid, brooding guitar work over a tripping, revolving drum rhythm and an undertow of keyboard machinations.  Campbell’s guitar then gradually breaks free into some sturdy meditations, counterepointed by more swirling synths, until La Starlite adds some more spoken work musings about “memory eroded by dementia, replaced by the fallacy of eternal youth” and such-like.  Whatever you say, Suzy – the important thing is that this is the strongest track on the album, stirring up vague echoes of Steve Hillage’s ‘The Glorious Om Riff’.  Well, maybe.  How about a cover of that in your live set, Suzy and Simon?
Starlite.One perhaps won’t fit the bill for some fans of the blues-leaning Starlite Campbell Band. But there’s mileage in these here explorations.  Hop on board their spaceship, and see where it takes you.
 
Starlite.One is out now, and available here.
Starlite and Campbell are touring Britain from 29 September.

Lance Lopez - Trouble Is Good

When ‘Jam With Me’ kicks in, it seems apt that Gregg Bissonette is guesting on the drum stool, because the lead single from Lance Lopez’s new album Trouble Is Good doesn’t half remind me of Dave Lee Roth’s ‘Knucklebones’, on which Bissonette did the tub-thumping.  It’s a catchy, bouncing tune with a good-time vibe that declares “A little rock’n’roll sets you free”, and underlines that sentiment with good riffing, a bundle of slide fills from Lopez, a squealing solo, and some neat variations in the backing.  All in all it’s three and a half minutes of rocking goodness.

Lance Lopez weighs the benefits of wearing shades indoors

‘Jam With Me’ may be the high point on Trouble Is Good, but there are some other goodies worth hearing too.  At one end the opener ‘Easy To Leave’ comes with a jarring riff over thumping bass’n’drums, while adopted Texan Lopez delivers his vocal with a satisfying rasp redolent of Albert Castiglia.  There’s a skating slide break too, plus a nifty revolving bridge and a punchy Lopez solo, all banged out with conviction.  And at the other end the closer ‘Voyager’ is a quite different proposition.  A seven-minute quasi-epic ostensibly in three parts, it opens in atmospheric style, combining swirling guitar and phased drum sounds, then some Blackmore-like Arabic picking over washes of keyboards.  The mid-section leans on some Page-like, discordantly jangling chords, on the way to a swooping’n’soaring conclusion, before a wistful coda, illustrating Lopez’s musical range.
Okay, so along the way from alpha to omega the quality can be a bit variable, with the off-the-leash power of ‘Take A Swing’ sounding rhythmically messy, while ‘Trying In The Tri-Star State’ is a mid-tempo paean to Nashville that’s a bit of plod.  But Lopez’s guitar playing is always there to grab your attention, with a blistering solo on the former, and some harem-scarem fretwork enlivening the latter.  And if the title track is a tad predictable, it's still well done, a sturdy thing that has balls and swing to give some younger hotshots a run for their money, embellished with some warped slide work and a squawking harp solo to add a rootsy vibe.
‘Uncivil War’ is also convincing, not exactly a ballad but a fatigued reflection on modern times, offering the bitter comment “I'm getting sick and tired of this uncivil war”, dappled with some watery Fender Rhodes piano.  ‘Slow Down’ is another nod towards Diamond Dave territory – slower and glossier, with a bright spiky riff matched to a loose, inviting rhythm, and if the chorus is a bit simplistic it’s still effective enough.  ‘Reborn’ is even better, with a bit of swing and a 60s vibe reinforcing an upbeat lyric and mood, and with some nifty guitar breaks suggesting that Lopez is having plenty fun.
The PR bumf suggests that Lance Lopez is a descendant of the Texas blues scene that fostered Stevie Ray Vaughan and ZZ Top, but those aren’t really the kind of sounds that I hear.  To my ears Lopez is more of a hard rocker, sometimes suggestive of Ted Nugent in the bright and breezy form of Weekend Warriors – though ‘Voyager’ shows that he also has other strings to his bow. Trouble Is Good makes for a pretty enjoyable 40 minutes – and it’s definitely worth getting an earful of ‘Jam With Me’.
 
Trouble Is Good is out now on Cleopatra Records.

Coco Montoya - Writing On The Wall

If you’re a fan of classic electric blues stylings, then this album by Coco Montoya may be just the ticket.  Let’s face it, as an alumnus of John Mayall’s bands in days gone by, Montoya should know what he’s doing in this musical sphere – and Writing On The Wall confirms that he does.
Opener ‘I Was Wrong’ is a archetypal slow-ish blues, with a lyric that pleads for forgiveness complemented by stinging but conversational guitar licks, and an interesting arrangement featuring some staccato segments and flutterings of organ adding colour in the background. And Montoya goes on to confirm his chops in this department with both ‘Stop’ and ‘What Did I Say?’. The Lonnie Mack slow blues ‘Stop’ is nothing special as a song, but it’s still sensitively delivered,

Coco Montoya - "Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work we go!"

Pic by Victoria Smith

with an expressive solo from Montoya that’s augmented by organ from Jeff Paris. And ‘What Did I Say?’ is even better, a smoochy ballad that has echoes of the Clapton/Cray tune ‘Old Love’, with controlled playing and tone from Montoya, and a sincere, contemplative vibe that puts me in mind of Walter Trout in slowie mode.
It's not all solemn fare though, and in a more upbeat vein a couple of the highlights are Frankie Miller’s ‘Be Good To Yourself’ and the title track.  ‘Be Good To Yourself’ is suitably lively, and just about lives up to Miller’s version, though Frankie probably had a touch more personality vocally. Meanwhile ‘Writing On The Wall’ underlines Montoya’s range, with a JJ Cale-like country-ish feel founded on shuffling drums from Rena Beavers, and featuring acoustic guitar, honky tonk piano, and a piercing guitar solo from multi-instrumentalist co-conspirator Paris, while Montoya contributes a rasping vocal.
‘Save It For The Next Fool’ is bright and bouncing too, with an undulating bass line from Nathan Jones bringing extra suppleness to the laid back rhythm, while some neat and playful Montoya soloing emulates novel lyrics like “You can’t talk the jam back in the jar”.  And there’s much fun to be had too on the Chicago R’n’B stylings of the Don Robey song ‘You Got Me (Where You Want Me), with Montoya duelling with Ronnie Baker Brooks on guitar in fine fashion, over tripping drums.
Songs like ‘(I’d Rather Feel) Bad About Doin’ It’ and ‘Baby, You’re A Drag’ may be a bit lightweight, but in the former case it’s still a neatly loose and funky shuffle, with producer Tony Braunhagel taking over the drum stool as it delivers some humorous takes on biblical episodes.‘Late Last Night’ is a simple but satisfying slice of mid-tempo boogie, a tale of a night on the tiles for which the title is a serious understatement, with a sparkling guitar solo to partner neat lines like “I climbed Blueberry Hill, sure enough got my thrill”.
The album closes with two more songs that go down melancholy and sunny roads respectively.‘The Three Kings And Me’ is a mellow reflection on being alone at Christmas – sounding a bit out of place as I’m listening to it in August – apart from the music of the titular three Kings on the stereo, with subtle guitar remarks and a couple of nods to ‘Winter Wonderland’ along the way.  Contrastingly, ‘Natural Born Love Machine’ is a breezy strut with a swinging chorus, in which the narrator reflects that he’s punching above his weight with a sexy woman.
Writing On The Wall is a good solid album, with numerous highlights and no out-and-out duds. Credit is due to Montoya and his writing partners Jeff Paris and Dave Steen for fashioning ten enjoyable originals to go with the three covers, and overall it’s assembled admirably (and economically) under the direction of producer Braunhagel.  It’s not an album to shake your foundations, but it should make you nod along with satisfaction.
 
Writing On The Wall is released by Alligator Records on 1 September.

Robert Jon & The Wreck - Ride Into The Light

What can I say about Robert Jon & The Wreck that I haven’t said already?  Precious little perhaps, but here goes anyway, with their latest album Ride Into The Light.
Some of this album may sound familiar to you, because it includes all four tracks from their One Of A Kind EP released back in March, just a month before their hefty Live At The Ancienne Belgique outing. Now, in this day and age I think the Wreckers may be onto something by departing from the “album every two years” kinda release schedule of past decades, especially when many artists overburden those albums with 13 or 14 songs.  Of course, it helps when you’re as prolific at writing belters as Robert Jon Burrison and co,

Robert Jon & The Wreck draw straws to decide who's not getting a seat

Pic by Rob Bondurant

but maintaining your profile with regular new music seems like a good scheme to me.  Can’t say I’m quite so convinced about including the entirety of an EP on your next studio album just a few months later, but hell, what do I know?
Whatever.  Ride Into The Light underlines the Wreck’s sublime talent as purveyors of good rockin' tonite.  Like the Stones, they’re not heavy like metal, but they sure do rock’n’roll.  Opener ‘Pain No More’ clatters into life with a staccato riff before downshifting for Burrison to deliver a conversational verse, then they ramp up through a harmony-enhanced chorus before cycling back to that neck-snapping riff.  And then lead guitarist Henry James (aka Schneekluth) gets to work in typically fine fashion.  But here’s the thing – they’re just getting warmed up.
A little later ‘Come At Me’ is a trump card and then some – top quality, in yer face rockin’, chock-full of big riffing, clever little turnarounds on the tense verses, and a surging, headbanging, shoutalong chorus, to which James adds a sharp, stinging guitar solo.  But the Wreck really do know when they’ve got their hands on a killer hook, and they batter you over the head with this one to create three minutes and fifteen seconds of dynamite.  Then they follow that with the juddering, slamming ‘One Of A Kind’, replete with slaloming slide fills and another blistering James solo.  I mean shit – what do these guys take of a morning to get this juiced up?  A quart of OJ and Red Bull?  Each?  And just to be clear, I mean all of ‘em, because while Burrison and James are out front shaking up a storm, that vibrant sound is an ensemble affair, driven along by a crack rhythm section in drummer Andrew Espantman and bassist Warren Murrel, plus additional organ voltage and piano decoration from Jake Abernathie.  Oh yeah, and they dial up killer harmonies all over the place too.
And those harmonies are well to the fore on their more mellow side, typified by the excellent Eagles-style country rock of ‘Who Can You Love’, which surfs in on some shimmering guitar before conjuring up another chorus to die for.  Seriously, where do these guys find all these hooks?  Did they stumble over a treasure chest of ‘em buried in their backyard or something?  Or sell their collective souls to the devil in Joshua Tree National Park on some chilly Californian night?  Mind you, their other ballady-type outing here, the Thrills-like ‘West Coast Eyes’, is a smidgen too mellow for my tastes, notwithstanding some more standout slide guitar from Henry James.  Is it a duff tune?  Hell no, it’s plenty stylish and well put together – just a bit too sweet to be wholesome. 
Along the way there’s ‘Bring Me Back Home Again’, a dynamic affair veering between a slow, storm-laden mood with stomping drums from Espantman and slithering slide commentary from James, more reflective piano and vocal moments, and soaring vocals from Burrison on the chorus.  ‘Don’t Look Down’ features another rattling, helter-skelter riff, a punchy melody with Robert Jon giving it less than his full tilt holler – just – plus some guitar duelling and a nah-nah-nah singalong to close.
After all that, the closing ‘Ride Into The Light’ is a lighter, summery affair to send you on your way, possibly cruising down the highway through Big Sur to the accompaniment of its catchy harmonised guitar line.
If you haven’t been Wrecked by Robert Jon and his buddies before now, it’s not too late.  Ride Into The Light is a lip-smacking introduction that will have you digging into their impressive back catalogue until their next release comes along – which will probably be in a month or two.
 
Ride Into The Light is out now on Journeyman Records.

Robert Jon & The Wreck are touring Britain from 13-24 September.  Full details of all tour dates, and tickets, are available here.

Jimmy Regal and the Royals - First And Last Stop

What to make of Jimmy Regal and the Royals?   With a set-up that’s essentially harp and vocals, guitar, and drums, they don’t follow yer typical blues group rules of engagement. Mind you, they’re not quite as stripped down as that on First And Last Stop, because guitarist CJ Williams also contributes bass and lap steel when occasion demands it, and harmonica man Joff Watkins picks up a guitar now and then to augment Williams’ picking.  And what’s more, they call on a gaggle of horn players for some tracks, plus djembe player Alan Hughes, and backing vocalist Tricia Davies Nearne here and there.

Jimmy Regal & The Royals - "Which one's Jimmy?"

So what kind of sound do they make from these varied resources?  Well, the Royal boys don’t plough a single furrow, and dare to be different on several tracks.  But the results include some pluses and also some minuses.
Among the high points are ‘Empty Streets’ and  ‘Bones To Dust’, both of which show their handy way with North Mississippi Hill Country influences.  ‘Empty Streets’ majors on a revolving, typically hypnotic North Mississippi guitar groove, peppered with slide remarks and some zinging soloing from Williams to create interesting textures.  And later on ‘Bones To Dust’ deploys a classic push-pull guitar riff’n’rivvum, which they then play around with to good effect, adding a halting, interesting guitar break from Williams, a bee-buzzing bridge, and a punchy sax intervention from Chris Rand.
They also have fun on a couple of tracks that travel further down the Mississippi.  The opening ‘(Got To Make A) New Flame’ has a tub-thumping rhythm, some fuzzy rhythm guitar, and a second-line funk vibe from the horns that hints at N’Awlins, with an appealing chantalong chorus, and a pinging guitar break from Williams.  And penultimate track ‘Fat Man’s Chicken’ is something of a Cab Calloway-like blast, with paradiddling drums, shouted out chorus, more NOLA-like horns – including a piercing trumpet solo from Titch Walker - and a train-chugging harp break from Watkins.
They’re interesting too, when they tap into some different blues roots.  ‘Ain’t Done Yet’ for example, brings together tripping drums, bobbling bass and Morse Code horns, but most interestingly some undulating guitar work from Williams that suggests he’s been listening to Malian types like King Sunny Ade and Songhoy Blues.  Rippling guitar and djembe percussion are also key to the title track, which develops a mesmeric feel even as Tricia Davies Nearne chips in with backing vocals and Watkins adds a layer of tootling harp.
A different upbeat moment – and a familiar-sounding one – is ‘You Can’t Run’, featuring tooting horns over a stumbling rhythm and more pattering drums from Sammy Samuels.  It took me a while to figure out what it reminded me of, but ultimately the answer, with the horns and that rhythm, is Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Tusk’, embroidered with some spiky, edgy guitar and a squawking harp break.
There are some less positive aspects though, one of which is Joff Watkins’ singing.  He gets better as the album progresses, but on the first couple of tracks, ‘(Got To Make A) New Flame’ and ‘Ain’t Done Yet’, he leans towards a quavering tone that just isn’t my thing.  He sounds a bit more confident on the loping, slinky groove of ‘Can’t Keep From Losing You’, with its woozy slide guitar and moaning harp, but he’s still outshone by Nearne’s warm backing vocals.  And a few songs are on the thin side too, such as the languid ‘Do Whatever You Can’ and the twitching, skipping ‘Show Time’.
Still, credit is due to the Royals for trying to find some new grooves.  When they start playing off New Orleans, North Mississippi and West African sounds they get particularly interesting – and they may have the potential for even better blues-fusion cooking with those ingredients in the future.
 
First And Last Stop is out now, and is available from Lunaria Records here.