Doyle Bramhall II Strikes Magic On ‘Rich Man’ (ALBUM REVIEW)

[rating=7.00]

Doyle Bramhall II’s Rich Man is not the product of a mere guitar-slinger. Though the son of the deceased Texas music figure has assumed that role—with as much aplomb as panache—for Eric Clapton – this man’s first album under his own name in fifteen years is a work of as much musical as emotional complexity.

Bramhall wastes no time in conjuring up a spacious sense of place on Rich Man. Even though the orchestration on “Mama Can’t Help You” is a mere decorative touch on the blues-derived opener, the horns expand exponentially, along with the gospel-rooted corps of background singers, on “November.”This introductory couplet thus speaks directly and indirectly to the scope of Bramhall’s ambition on this record.

That said, the density of production on tracks like “The Veil” suggests in no uncertain terms that Doyle Bramhall II knew exactly what he was trying to accomplish from from the germination of Rich Man. And it’s not just a question of marshaling his resources, with multiple collaborators on composition as well as product: the end result here is a logical extension of his previous experience writing, recording and playing on the stage and in the studio. No surprise but significant to note then his guitar solos are few and far between throughout the album and, as on “My People,” in service of the song–here a hypnotic chant–rather than the other way around.

After a stately procession of tracks where the titles (New Faith,” “Harmony” and “Cries of Ages”) reflect the inclusion of exotic acoustic and electric instruments such as the loud and the sarangi, Bramhall distills everything down to an instrumental essence for the climax of Rich Man. Playing with a straightforward quartet on the sole cover here, a somewhat surprisingly terse take on Jimi Hendrix’ modern blues “Hear My Train A Comin’” punctuates the larger statement he’s made here; he again uses the heavily-echoed and haunting vocal style that’s supplied such continuity to the previous dozen tracks and, in so doing, once more invokes spiritual overtones similar to those of the late George Harrison on All Things Must Pass (albeit without pretension whatsoever).

Even the largely black and white glossy graphic design of the Rich Man CD package is striking, from the imposing photos of Bramhall wielding his (left handed ) axe to the inclusion of all the lyrics in a booklet, a gesture that oftentimes smacks of self importance, but here represents the attention to detail and a commensurate depth, the artist, as the main producer, introduced into every facet of this work.