Published on Aug 19, 1998
Back in 1990, the digital processing of Robert Johnson’s known
recordings was the talk of the town. The box set
The Complete Recordings (which we reviewed some time ago)
sparked a new interest in Johnson and his music, and quickly became
the leading candidate for “comeback of the year”.
Now, in 1998, Peter Green is the leading candidate for comeback
of the year – playing, of all things, the music of Robert Johnson.
The Robert Johnson Songbook is a disc that proves that in
Green’s chest beats the heart of a bluesman – and for that, we
should all be grateful.
Long after his glory days with John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers and
Fleetwood Mac, long after his dark days following a bad experience
with acid and his rejection of his fame, people still know Green’s
name and his legacy. Until recently, Green was not ready to return
to the limelight and begin reclaiming his musical heritage, but his
last outing, Splinter Group, was his first step into reclaiming
what was his. (I’ve not heard this particular disc yet, so I’ll
withhold any further comment on it.)
Now, again working with the Splinter Group (and his old friend
Nigel Watson), Green lovingly runs through 14 numbers from
Johnson’s repertoire (which only boasts 29 different titles) and
tries to stay true to their original voice while adding touches of
modern-day soul to them. With the backing vocals of Street Angels
98, this goal is easily achieved.
Green looks and sounds much older than his age, but in one
sense, this almost gives him the perfect voice for the music he
creates on
The Robert Johnson Songbook. When Green sings songs like
“32-20 Blues,” “Last Fair Deal Gone Down” and “Ramblin’ On My
Mind,” you don’t just hear a musician paying tribute to one of the
greats in his field… you hear someone who’s lived these words and
bears the scars as proof.
The assembled band – Watson on guitar and vocals, bassist Neil
Murray, pianist Roger Cotton and drummer Larry Tolfree – tends to
keep their performances to a minimum, again complementing the basic
songs and the mood that Johnson himself might have captured had he
not died in 1938. Songs like “Me And The Devil Blues,” “I Believe
I’ll Dust My Broom” and “When You Got A Good Friend” are all strong
performances that make the music they create shine.
Even ex-Bad Company vocalist Paul Rodgers – whose voice has
definitely changed since his glory days – lends a hand on “Sweet
Home Chicago,” though I would have much rather heard someone like
Green take this number. The playing is good, but this one could be
the only weak link on the whole album.
The Robert Johnson Songbook not only is a wonderful
re-introduction of Green to the industry he rejected so many years
ago, it also is a great primer for those who might not know who he
is (I lump anyone who only knows Fleetwood Mac from the
Buckingham-Nicks era in this category) and how important he was to
British music in general in the ’60s.
The only thing I honestly don’t understand: My promotional copy
of this album had a parental advisory sticker on it. Why?!? There
is no language on this record, and the references to the devil are
nothing like what you’d hear piled high on some new releases.
Assuming the sticker wasn’t put on by accident, this is a good
reason why I think the stickering of albums is ludicrous.
The Robert Johnson Songbook lets people know with no
uncertain doubt that Green has returned to reclaim his throne as a
master of the blues. Here’s hoping he sticks around for a while to
defend it.