Album Review

Robert Cray Band – Nothin But Love

• 25th Sep 2012

Robert Cray is a class act. As of writing this review in September 2012; subjectively, it feels like this man is part of a classic, bygone age of Blues heroes. Many of us tend to mentally group him in with some of the older legends that actually preceded him by a generation or more (Eric Clapton, Albert Collins, Buddy Guy etc.). Maybe this is because of such numerous concert appearances, either with, or supporting these guys, and stretching back seemingly forever. Who knows? The truth of course is that Robert Cray really only came to prominence in the early 1980s, and is not in fact contemporary with any of these older folks. His rise to fame was more in lockstep with the careers of later bluesmen like the amazing Stevie Ray Vaughan. However, as Vaughan died tragically young; instantly becoming a Blues legend, Cray remained constant as the northern star. By 2009, he had racked up an impressive sounding (but actually not that prolific), fifteen studio albums, and a nice collection of Grammys. Now; after a three year hiatus, the Robert Cray Band bring us album number sixteen: Nothin’ But Love.

As has become the most common format arrangement with Robert Cray albums, Nothin’ But Love features just ten solid cuts. Half of the songs are solely penned by the man himself, with most of the remainder coming from the other band members. This renders the album almost completely free of standards/covers (which is so often a disappointing Blues artist staple). Interestingly, it was Cray’s own compositions that I liked the best, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves, so let’s back up a little.
These days, a ten track album (where the songs are of standard 3.5 to 4.5 minute length), seems a rarity. I actually like this more compact approach. Of course, with the Compact Disc format, boosting the maximum length possible for a single disc album up to over seventy minutes; it has become something of an unwritten rule in albumland, that one must use all of that capacity, or at least as much of it as possible. Pack ‘em and stack ‘em as the old saying goes (‘make ‘em cheap and go for volume’ also springs to mind with much of today’s artists). No-one ever seems to ask the question; why exactly do we do this? Was there anything actually ‘wrong’ or undesirable with the thirty five to forty minute vinyl albums of yore (Progressive Rock artists need not answer that)? In all honesty, these days it’s probably as much to do with a simplistic perception of value for money as anything else. ‘More is more’ is certainly a depressingly familiar modern axiom. Well, Nothin’ But Love isn’t quite so compact as to invoke comparisons with the good old days of vinyl, but at forty-nine minutes (a little more for the bonus track deluxe edition), it is pleasingly concise. It delivers an enjoyably tight, and direct listening experience with no bloat. It manages this without short-changing you either. Nice, let’s move on.

Stylistically, the material stays within a fairly predictable range of Blues format archetypes (and that is not intended to sound like a criticism). Having said that; Cray is a naturally soulful gent, and there are a plethora of crossover elements in evidence here. In my humble opinion, some of the cuts on this record are really channelling almost as much Soul and classic R&B, as they are pure Blues. Of course the lines between all these genres are blurred beyond recognition, with decades of cross pollination and osmosis in all directions. The album also nicely mixes the up-tempo, with the more downbeat and melancholy. Major and Minor Blues cadences are given a fair shake, and there are even occasional big band, and orchestral string arrangements too. To my ears, there’s more than a little of B.B. King’s Jazz & Blues era material coming through in places. Much of this soulfulness is to be found in Cray’s voice; which is smooth, and has that warm, mellifluous timbre that hits one’s eardrums very pleasantly, and never ever grates. He is certainly a very capable, natural singer. Anyhow, come what may in terms of arrangements and vocals; everything is of course liberally peppered with Cray’s signature electric guitar style.
More on that shortly.

I have been living with the album for a little while now, and have been doing the usual thing a good reviewer should do with a new album. This involves playing it at home while working, playing it in the office, in the car, as well as a few spins on the old iPod (pardon the age revealing term ‘spins’ in the last sentence). After a successful initial acquaintance, absorption is the key. To this end, the album is instantly likeable, foot tapping, and very accessible to the casual listener. However, it also has a very good dose of growing power within it too. It’s a good sign that within three or four spins (there’s that word again), I was singing along with some of the catchier choruses, and even humming some of the more memorable, lyrical lead break lines. Experienced Blues fans will find much gold here too, although perhaps the most trainspotter purest of purists might find the aforementioned Soul and R&B flavours a little harder to love (they’re a bit like that though, so we won’t worry too much about that).
So with that, let’s bring it back round to the guitar playing for a minute. Robert Cray rarely strays too far from his trademark clean, crisp, woody Stratocaster twang. It’s his stock in trade after all, and he does it brilliantly. However, for me; it was one aspect that I felt rather conflicted about. On the one hand, Cray’s tone, and delicacy of touch is beautifully revealed by ‘that’ sound, however the progressive Blues adventurer in me, at times craved a little more variation in the way the guitar tone is set up for each track. A little more dirt here, a little more shimmer there, maybe even something approaching….fierceness or aggression! Hard to say what exactly, but just, something. We get a little grit here and there, and the occasional delay effect, but that’s about it. If you’re dialled in to Cray’s method, then of course, it doesn’t really matter.

This ‘safeness’ does seem to be a common theme in contemporary Blues music. It’s almost as if there’s some kind of unwritten rule stating that Blues isn’t allowed to evolve or be dangerous anymore. Maybe folks are worried it could mutate into something even noisier, and uncouth than Rock! That’s a joke of course, but to be fair, I guess if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it (just to add yet another threadbare phrase to this review), so I guess it is what it is. Cray’s playing is unquestionably top notch fantastic, and on lovely form here. There are more than a few lead break moments on this record that set my ear candy meters, tingling in to the high ambers. Like I said, he’s a class act, and his approach to the instrument is straight forward, no nonsense, masterful, highly lyrical and very delicate.
Moving on, a word on the production. The overall sound of the album is impressive and satisfyingly rounded. Kevin Shirley’s production is clean, spacious and has nice depth and gloss without sounding over-produced or flashy. It’s not particularly adventurous to be sure, but it’s lovingly crafted with an obvious sympathy for the artist, musicians and genre. It deliberately invokes the style and feel of the Blues of yesteryear (with the Sleeve’s art direction and production design clearly doing the same). The sound palette is natural, and open, and avoids any crowding or jostling for dominance between any of the primary elements. There’s acres of room for Cray’s crisply presented vocals, and guitar work to shine. The more I listened to the album, the more I felt a clear sense that all the band members were acting as a focused, cohesive creative team behind Cray, which is a really nice thing to tap in to and enjoy. Lyrically, the album again scores well for this reviewer. It ranges from the playful delights of Side Dish to the deeper, introspective strength, and light commentary of I’m Done Cryin’ (the latter featuring a wonderfully moving, and melancholic string arrangement by Jeff Bova, supporting Cray’s heart stirring vocals).

I won’t do a full track by track breakdown, much better that you discover the album for yourself, and reap the rewards it will undoubtedly offer up to you. Having said that, in addition to the two songs I already mentioned; I must give a shout out to a few other standout cuts. One of my favourites has to be A Memo. This is a marvellous Soul infused, feel good track, featuring some of the loveliest, sweet lead breaks on the whole album. Also, a mention goes out to Great Big Old House and Sadder Days which are again, really fabulous tracks (both Cray compositions). As alluded to at the beginning of the review, my affections do seem to have naturally swung towards the songs here written by Cray. However, it must be said that in my opinion, there isn’t a single filler on the album, and all ten cuts are more than worthy, and eminently repeat listenable. If I absolutely had to skip past one track (and I always try and include one of these in my album reviews), it would be the Bobby Parker cover Blues Get Off My Shoulder. I can’t fault it particularly, but it is the least persuading of the ten tracks for this listener.

The Limited Edition Deluxe Version of the album adds an extra track (the Pee Wee King song You Belong To Me), which is great, but almost superfluous to requirements really. However, what is worth the extra outlay, is the super generous inner sleeve booklet that, in addition to comprehensive production notes, and the usual promo shots; features a really nice, in depth, and informative written work by Henry Yates. This piece chronicles the making of the album, and is presented alongside a wealth of informal shots of all the guys, taken during the recording sessions. It’s a very nicely made and presented package, and a much nicer object to behold than a humble jewel case, and inner sleeve affair. If these aesthetic considerations are of value to you, then I would definitely plump for the Deluxe.

So there we have it, as I said right at the beginning of this review, Robert Cray is a class act. This album, in my opinion honours that status very well; class, it has in abundance, alongside truly effortless style, and is a terrifically good listen throughout.