Duke Robillard’s idea for his latest, Blues Bash, is intentionally a salve for these pandemic-ridden times – “My concept for this album was to make a straight vintage style blues album with no frills or attempt at having catchy hook laden songs. Just straight, vintage danceable blues with plenty of bright sounding Fender guitar a la Ike Turner, Left Bates, etc. Just a good listening or dancing record like blues records I bought when I was a kid…It was pretty much a reunion of sorts and I wanted the material to be just simple straight ahead ‘50s style blues and R&B…Basically it’s a blues party album and that feeling is what I want to convey. Nothing fancy, just the good old blues.” Of course, this kind of music is the modest Robillard’s specialty. Not only is he one of the form’s premier guitarists, but he’s also an historian, scholar, and curator who understands the music’s history like few others. He has won the BMA as best guitarist five times and in addition to his own storied body of work, he has produced countless albums.
Fronting his core band of Bruce Bears (keys), Mark Texiera (drums), and Jesse Williams or Marty Ballou (bass), Robillard rounds up old pals from his early days as leader of Roomful of Blues – the saxophone trio of Rich Lataille (alto and tenor), Greg Piccolo (tenor), and Doug James (baritone) as well as West Coasters harmonicist Mark Hummel and pianist Bob Welch for “No Time.” On “Ain’t Gonna Do It” he features Mark Braun (Mr. B) on piano joined by frequent collaborators bassist Marty Ballou, cornetist Al Basile and saxophonist Sax Gordon. Duke sings on four of the eight vocal tracks with Michelle “Evil Gal” Wilson leading on the double entendre laced “You Played on My Piano” and Boston vocalist Chris Cote leading on three.
Blues historian and writer Dick Shurman claims that he jumps at any opportunity to cover Robillard, despite admitting “not a lot of analysis and reflection are called for.” Yet, this passage is quite good – “BLUES BASH isn’t a re-imagination, a deconstruction or a border-busting. It doesn’t sound or feel like self-conscious anything. It’s a celebration of timeless virtues and verities, and a celebration or celebration itself.” Cote leads on the opening Ike Turner’s “Do You Mean It” while Duke mimics the author’s guitar style. “No Time” is an original inspired by ‘50s Chicago sound and rendered with help from Welch and Hummel who have a great feel for that style. Lataille and Bears exchange conversation on Roy Milton’s “What Can I Do” with Cote singing jump-blues over the horn section.
This is Duke’s second version of Al King’s “Everybody Ain’t Your Friend” on the Stony Plain label, his original done with Ronnie Earl and Jimmy McGriff. This version plays to Johnny Heartsman, an arranger/guitarist/pianist, whose contributions Duke reflects through the guitar, horn, and piano parts. “Rock Alley” is an instrumental nodding to guitarist Lefty Bates with a twangier guitar solo and Piccolo rousing sax turn. Wilson’s playful take, a la Helen Humes, on “You Played on My Piano” also features James on a baritone solo while Duke is the mode of guitarist Bill Jennings. “Ain’t Gonna Do It” is the only track with the Ballou/Basile/Gordon unit with the prominent star being boogie pianist Mr. B.
You Don’t Know What You’re Doin’” is the third of Cote’s vocal leads with Duke in perhaps his most favorite mode of all, T-Bone Walker. Most would agree that Robillard has that icon’s style down better than anyone else. “Give Me All the Love You Got” is the other reprise from a previous Duke album, this one done in the vein of a Lowell Fulsom ‘50s Checker track. The closer, “Just Chillin’,” an original, is the only lengthy tune at ten minutes. It hearkens to those late-night blues sound of the Prestige albums under Willis Jackson’s name that featured organist Brother Jack McDuff and guitarist Bill Jennings. Duke’s foil here is Bears who takes an extended organ solo, supported by Ballou and Texiera.
Call it old school, vintage, throw-back or any other term you choose but there’s no denying that Robillard and his bandmates know this music backwards and forwards. Just let it rip, turn it up, and turn yourself loose.
2 Responses
“Nothing fancy, just the good old blues” is the OPPOSITE of how I’d describe 2020… this year is a very elaborate, never-ending case of the blues!
From the opening bars, and continuing throughout, Just Chillin’ reminded me of I’m Just a Lucky So and So, featuring Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis. Both evoke for me closing time in a musty club, where you can smell the cigar smoke and the beer-soaked floors, and you don’t want this last song to end and send you into the rainy night.