Joe Bonamassa is about 18 months younger than your humble scribe, and he’s on his 16th studio album.
He’s basically a one-man content machine: 20 live albums, tours every year, and a side project that is arguably the best hard rock band of the last decade. And he seems like a decent bloke—how can you not warm to a chap I once saw buying a guidebook for the Royal Albert Hall in the venue gift shop, about two hours before playing a sold-out gig there?
But never mind all that. What matters here is that 16th album. And here’s the best thing about JB: he’s basically reinvented himself on most of them.
He’s a better singer now, a way better songwriter, and he can still play guitar better than just about everyone.
There’s more evolution here, as Breakthrough fair bursts out with the title track. No intro, no preamble—all of which only adds to the urgency.
In recent years, Bonamassa has seemed ready to use his music for more cathartic purposes, and this is no different.
“Trigger Finger” is full of energy, and he’s embracing the new here. “Change never bothered me,” goes the hook—and if this isn’t exactly a revolution, it does feel like a very different Bonamassa compared to, say, a decade ago.
The slide-drenched boogie of “I’ll Take the Blame” is more old-school, if you will, and it’s wonderfully done. The solo alone, plus the piano from Reese Wynans, is worth the entry fee.
The mid-paced groover “Drive By the Exit Sign” is a highlight and, like Bonamassa’s shows, although he’s the star, it has a real band feel. The backing vocals here are incredible, for example. And when he slows the pace for the epic “Broken Record,” they all do it with such class.
He appears to be searching for something here. Across all those records, there’s nothing quite like the acoustics of “Shake This Ground.” “I got more questions than I need,” he sings—and that’s sort of the vibe across this collection: questioning everything.
The band he’s assembled can do anything, which means whatever style is present—and there are lots—it doesn’t matter. The soul of “Still Walking With Me,” for example, is no problem. Neither is the dark blues of “Life After Dark”—the chorus soars, and this is, essentially, arena rock.
He’s nothing if not a free spirit, though, and he sets off at a real gallop on “You Don’t Own Me.” As if anyone could. The picture of Bonamassa as a single-minded, driven artist—even man—is not going to fade with this.
There’s a smooth class about the final track, “Pain’s On Me”—a sort of easy charm that hides the pain, as it were.
That track might be heading for six minutes, but Breakthrough is a shortish thing. I still judge records by whether they’d fit on one side of a C90 cassette (kids, ask your parents!), and this one just about would have.
Look, let’s be honest: I’m a huge Bonamassa fan, a fact I never hide, and I don’t believe he makes bad records. But this one, which seems to have a greater focus on the songs themselves, is a cracker.
A confidence seems to ooze from it. Like he says himself in one of the lyrics: “Don’t tell me how to play the blues.”
“Breakthrough” might not be a “blues record”—but you can only marvel at its skill.
Rating: 9/10
