There I was last year, sitting in the café at the Royal Albert Hall. Eating the most expensive ham salad sandwich, cake and coffee combination known to man (how people afford to live in London is another argument for another day), when a chap in a baseball cap walked in, carrying a guidebook for the venue that he’d bought in the shop next door.
A palpable buzz of excitement ran through the room as people jumped up to go and shake hands with the tourist. I didn’t – I don’t walk very well and there was quite a crush, and even if I could have, to be honest I prefer to steer clear of meeting people – but it was fun to watch as they took selfies and jostled to speak to him.
After about five minutes of this, Joseph Leonard Bonamassa said: “thanks for coming everyone, I hope you have a great show.”
What he and his band did that night put that gig in the top ten of the thousands I’ve seen, and whilst I know the blues purists like to sneer (the purist in anything always does) there is something irresistible about him.
The enthusiasm with which he bought the guidebook, though, stuck with me. Like he too, like me, couldn’t quite believe thousands of people had come to watch him in one of the worlds most iconic venues. A thought I’d had a week before or so when I’d got an email that started with the words: “Hi Andy, would you like to review…..?”
The Sleep Eazy’s comes from that same place. Frankly and bluntly, this is a record that didn’t need to be made. But that’s not the point, not at all. Bonamassa wanted to make it. Simple as that.
In the press release his record company sent around announcing it, he said this: “To be honest I have always wanted to do a record like this. But, to be even more honest I’m not sure I was ready both professionally and musically, until now. The time finally felt right to finally pay tribute to a mentor, a friend and one of the greatest guitarists of all time: the late great Danny Gatton. My time hanging out and jamming with Danny as a child shaped my playing and musical pathway more than just about anyone.”
Read that paragraph as many times as you like and it still says: “Although I hope you enjoy this, I am doing this for me.”
It is to everyone’s eternal credit, then, that what amounts to the JB Band have made this project so much fun for everyone.
I have to confess here that I wasn’t aware of Gatton before this album – a “musicians musician” if you like, he was clearly well regarded amongst his peers, and took his own life in the mid 90s – but the love Bonamassa has for him absolutely clearly comes over on “Fun House” the Gatton composition that starts the album going.
Turned into something in between a Big Band romp and jazz in a New Orleans back street, it is a glorious introduction to the vibe here.
The band have gone deep to find songs they could do in this vein too. “Move” by Hank Garland (again, to be honest, never heard of him, but goodness I know the Elvis songs he did) sees another Jazzy solo, but it is actually striking here how much it is a “band” affair, with the guitar not to the forefront at all. Anton Fig even gets a drum solo here.
“Ace Of Spades” (not a Motorhead cover, but a Link Wray tune) is probably the best thing here, with its rock n roll feel, plus any time you get to hear Reese Wynans do his thing on organ is always wonderful. “Ha So” is eastern flavoured, and sort of funky and “Hawaiian Eye” (a theme tune to a 50s tv show) is driven equally by its horns and a desire to cause trouble.
“Bond (On Her Majesties Secret Service)” exudes a kind of cool, like you can actually imagine them playing it in dinner jackets, while for a cast this good “Polk Salad Annie” is basically as easy as rolling one into the empty net. The backing singers that are in Bonamassa’s band, Jade MacRae and Juanita Tippins excel here and the harmonica of Jimmy Hall is sublime.
In amongst all the bombast and huge scope of the rest of it, the last two amount to a chance to calm down and pause for breath. “Blue Nocturne” is late night blues, and its not hard to imagine the tables being stacked around them in some shady bar as it plays, while “It Was A Very Good Year” takes the Sinatra classic and strips it back to the melody, as it kind of carries us out by floating away, before it turns into something like a film score.
It is obviously a cliché to say that “Easy To Buy, Hard To Sell” is “Joe Bonamassa as you’ve never heard him before” and anyway, it is only part true. The way his music has been going in recent years, with the horns and the band he has, makes this an almost natural progression.
Not essential, perhaps, but oddly, that’s why its so good. The Sleep Eazy’s have no agenda beyond making music – and that makes this a real joy.
Rating 9/10
