A little bit of Memphis, a little bit of New Orleans and a whole lotta soul.
It’s tough to tag Robert Cray, but one thing is for certain — the electric bluesman, with soulful vocals rooted in old school R&B, really knows how to work the lyrical ground of broken hearts.
Cray, along with his stalwarts like long-time friend Jim Pugh on keyboards, Richard Cousins on bass and drummer Tony Braunagel, delighted a standing room only crowd of 500 fans at the Arden Theatre this past Thursday.
A guitar hero to many including rock legend Eric Clapton, who handpicked him for his three Crossroads festivals, Cray was firing on all cylinders.
Some of the evening’s best tunes were extended versions of older works loaded with Cray’s trademark heat and passion. And although he doesn’t follow a set list, preferring to go with the flow, the 90-minute concert revealed the quartet’s tight dynamics alternating between weepers and ballads with juicier up-tempo numbers.
Singing in a slightly raspy voice, Cray really buried himself in the music, closing his eyes for each number and setting an easy-going, laidback pace. For the first two numbers he paved the way with a dry, tongue-in-cheek joke about “people that messed up my life.”
By the third tune, he was on a roll. “Let’s do another song about her. This has been an ongoing saga — about 30 years. It’s a great source of inspiration. It’s now my life’s work.”
Cray doesn’t just sing his songs. He injects each line with passion and creates a series of emotionally measured moods for each song. One of Cray’s nuggets was Our Last Time, sung in a c’est la vie tone that scratched the heart raw. Immediately following was Leave Well Enough Alone, an angry, sensual number highlighted by one of Cray’s dynamic improvised guitar solos. Phone Booth reverberated with desperation while the softer Lotta Lovin’ was stroked into a gentle seduction.
With the assured vocals of experience, Cray delivered both Sitting on Top of the World and Right Next Door (Because of Me) as lonely soul-blues burners. One in the Middle was slow, poignant and romantic as all get out and You’re the Reason I Can’t Fail was a superb ballad with Cray’s caressing vocals reminding us why people make the Sam Cooke comparisons.
Over and over again, Cray skimmed his fretboard with lacerating guitar licks that prompted fans to clap for more. Like all greats, he made it look so easy.
Generous with his band, Cray turned the spotlight over to his sidemen at almost every interlude and their chemistry was evident from Baunagel’s explosive drum kicks and Cousins’ punctuated bass lines to Pugh’s boisterous organ flourishes.
It was an evening of blues catharsis, mapping the ebb and flow of relationships, with vocals that hit you and guitar lines that blew everyone away.
