Robert Cray Pond

Robert Cray has been bridging the lines between blues, soul and R&B for the past four decades, with five Grammy wins and over 20 acclaimed albums. His latest album, That's What I Heard, was recorded at the iconic Capitol Records studios and produced by Steve Jordan (Sheryl Crow, Josh Groban, Keith Richards, Boz Scaggs). The music is a varied sonic blend of blues, soul, boogaloo and gospel. Guest artists include Ray Parker Jr and Steve Perry.

The contemporary blues bannerman's recording debut (originally released as Who's Been Talkin' in 1980), while naturally not as strong as his later work (especially Bad Influence, released five years later), is the work of an extremely promising artist. The album is an appealing mix of standards (Willie Dixon's "Too Many Cooks," Howlin' Wolf's "Who's Been Talkin'," O.V. Wright's "I'm Gonna Forget About You," among others) and originals. Among the strongest of the latter are the slow blues "I'd Rather Be a Wino" and the closing number, "If You're Thinkin' What I'm Thinkin'," which contains the flavorful mix of tight rhythms, excellent guitar work, strong vocals, and bittersweet mood that would become Cray's hallmark.

Sometimes even the most consistent artists need to shake things up a bit. In Robert Cray's case, that means shuffling his lineup – he retained longtime bassist Richard Cousins but brought in drummer Les Falconer and keyboardist Dover Weinberg – and bringing in producer Steve Jordan, who last worked with Cray on 1999's Take Your Shoes Off. There's a reason this record is called In My Soul: Jordan assists Cray in moving toward Memphis soul, dedicating the entire record to slow, sultry burners that emphasize his mellow vocals and dexterous grooves. This may primarily be a mood record but the individual songs are also quite strong, whether it's the originals ("Fine Yesterday" is so gorgeous it makes heartbreak seem welcome) or sharply chosen covers. Among the latter is a cleanly funky reading of Otis Redding's "Nobody's Fault But Mine," which features Falconer on co-lead vocals, an unusual change of pace for Cray that also signals how the veteran guitarist has been revitalized by his change in companions.

Of all Robert Cray albums, over a career that has now spanned 20 years, this is the one I keep coming back to time and time again. I Was Warned is not one of Robert Cray's more critically acclaimed or commercially successful albums, yet for me it's a handsome, undemanding record that is full of great songs and superb playing. As a practitioner of the blues, Cray has been instrumental in it's re-emergence as a popular art-form in the 80's and 90's, however he has never considered himself to be a 'bluesman' - preferring to call his sound a blues/soul/rock hybrid. I Was Warned tends towards soul and rock. There is a definite feel-good factor to 'Just A Loser' and 'I'm A Good Man', both carry an irresistable groove and Cray clearly revels in his everyman tales of love and life. 'The Price I Pay' is a meditation on fading love, it is one of Cray's finest ballads - a side of his music that seems to get overlooked. 'On The Road Down' is blisteringly good also and showcases some fine guitar-work.

Perhaps the most telling tune on Shoulda Been Home is the T-Bone Walker-influenced "Renew Blues," not because of the style, but because the slow blues fades out after just one tiny minute. By contrast, the mellow soul sway of "Out of Eden" stretches out to over nine minutes. Robert Cray has been heralded as a savior of modern blues, but the truth is Cray's music is much closer to the vintage soul of O.V. Wright and Otis Redding than the 12-bar form of B.B. King or Albert King. Granted, his punctuating Stratocaster guitar riffs borrow from the books of all the blues masters, but his songwriting and arranging don't. Often backed by arpeggiated guitar chords, Cray's vocals are front and center here, passionately leaning into these predominantly slow or mid-tempo tunes. By contrast, only a couple of cuts are upbeat enough to really get the knees a-shakin'. The infectious opening cut "Baby's Arms" – the best tune on the record – could have been a hit single for Stax Records, and Sir Mack Rice's upbeat "Love Sickness" was a hit for Stax Records. Meanwhile, "Help Me Forget," with its mellow, candlelight mood, could have been a hit for Barry White.

Even diehard Robert Cray fans admit that over the course of the last decade, the singer/guitarist/songwriter has crafted albums that are practically interchangeable. Although Cray has created his own niche with a slick but powerful Memphis-styled R&B/soul/blues stew, his sound become repetitious; even though the songs' quality remained way above average. Since leaving Ryko (after two albums), he and keyboardist Jim Pugh – an increasingly pivotal player in Cray's work – produced this 13th disc between labels. That provided them the freedom to experiment without corporate intervention. While his "if-it-ain't-broke-don't-fix-it" ethic allowed multiple Grammy wins, Cray clearly wanted to step outside the box he built, resulting in a slightly different direction this time around. Those who enjoy the comfy fit of his previous work have little to fear; there is plenty of the love-lost/found R&B that he's known for.

It's easy to take Robert Cray for granted, for the singer-guitarist has altered his approach so little since he first burst on the scene. Nonetheless, the changes from his early albums to Some Rainy Morning are no less real for having been subtle. Cray is still combining urban-blues guitar and Southern-soul vocals on stories of romantic treachery and working-class frustration, but he has distilled that strategy until nothing superfluous remains. "Some Rainy Morning," recorded with his stripped-down road quartet, is full of breathing room so Cray's singing and playing are set off more dramatically than ever. In addition to the eight originals by Cray and his bandmates, the album includes remakes of Wilson Pickett's "Jealous Love" and Syl Johnson's "Steppin' Out," and Cray does a great job of matching Pickett's raucous shouts and Johnson's silky crooning. On his own songs, Cray sounds better than ever when he's holding out notes for effect or communicating paradoxical emotions.

One of Robert Cray's best albums ever, and the one that etched him into the consciousness of blues aficionados prior to his mainstream explosion. Produced beautifully by Bruce Bromberg and Dennis Walker, the set sports some gorgeous originals ("Phone Booth," "Bad Influence," "So Many Women, So Little Time") and two well-chosen covers, Johnny "Guitar" Watson's "Don't Touch Me" and Eddie Floyd's Stax-era "Got to Make a Comeback." Few albums portend greatness the way this one did.