B. Walter

Another in a series of undiluted blues-rock offerings from guitarist Walter Trout, Relentless, his 11th disc since 1990, doesn't offer any surprises. Released in conjunction with a DVD, the album was recorded live in the Netherlands club The Paradiso on a single day with little post-production sweetening or audience intervention. This results in a successful balance between sonics and concert sparks. For those who relish his by now standard brand of sturdy, guitar-heavy, Stevie Ray Vaughan-inspired music, Trout is in fine fret-shredding form here. But fans who'd like to see Trout swim in some new waters will find little of that on this outing.

The notes for this CD ask, "What issue is more topical than the Brazilian rain forest? So what reissue would be more topical than Walter Wanderley's Rain Forest?" Politically, this may be true, but musically, this collection is anything but topical. From the first tune - the monster hit "Summer Samba," the listener is catapulted straight back to the '60s when bossa nova was new in the U.S. and everyone wanted a piece of it. Organist Wanderley made a big splash with this CD, which went platinum in two years - and it does evoke strong water images, like "poolside" and "ice skating rink." The jazzmen are underutilized, since most of the tracks are less than three minutes long and leave little room to stretch out. One exception is the pretty Ferreira/Marconi ballad "Rain," the only track where Wanderley plays piano rather than organ and which features a fine solo by Urbie Green on trombone…

On what is billed as his 20th solo album, journeyman blues-rock guitarist Walter Trout seems to be intent on establishing himself as something more than a worthy successor to an older generation of blues originators, as well as a bevy of their better-known successors all old enough to be his older brothers. He has written all 12 songs himself and printed the lyrics to them in the CD booklet. Especially at first, his bid to be a singer/songwriter shows promise, with the self-deprecating and reflective "May Be a Fool" and "Open Book" leading things off, and, in fourth position, the spiritually oriented title song, "Common Ground," a prayer for universal understanding.

No ordinary artist. No ordinary covers album. From the day he conceived the project to the moment he counted off the first song in the studio, Walter Trout had a bolder plan for Survivor Blues. "I'm riding in my car sometimes," says the US blues titan. "I've got a blues station on – and here's another band doing Got My Mojo Workin'. And there's a little voice in me that says, 'Does the world need another version of that song?' So I came up with an idea. I didn't want to do Stormy Monday or Messin' With The Kid. I didn't want to do the blues greatest hits. I wanted to do old, obscure songs that have hardly been covered. And that's how Survivor Blues started…"

The frustrating thing about smooth jazz isn't an absence of talent or chops; actually, there are plenty of smooth jazz musicians who have chops galore even though their studio recordings don't reflect that. At smooth jazz concerts, it isn't hard to find artists who take a lot more chances on-stage than they do in the studio. But taking chances in the studio isn't conducive to airplay on commercial smooth jazz/NAC radio stations, which is why so many generic, unimaginative smooth jazz recordings have been flooding the market since the 1980s. Walter Beasley has certainly given listeners plenty of generic, unimaginative recordings over the years, but not everything he records is without merit – and Free Your Mind does have its moments.

For about the thousandth time, these very early recordings by Walter Becker and Donald Fagen that have remained officially unreleased for a reason: they're terrible and only vaguely resemble the actual Steely Dan that came years later. This is not to say that there is no merit to them, only very little, and only for those who are so obsessed by the Steely Dan legend they need to hear every bent note, of which there are plenty here. This is another shabby Dressed to Kill effort that should be avoided. Period.