Blues on the Bayou

On the other hand, if your love of the blues extends to a couple of Gary Moore compilations and a Jeff Healey live album, "Blues on the Bayou" ought to be some sort of conversion on the road to Damascus for you (if it isn't, you're missing something: most likely, the point).

It is 1998, the King is in his dotage, but he's got a crack band behind him, a seriously funky cat on a soupy, soupy hammond and a production budget to die for, so everything is tight as a drum and crystal clear. His famous Gibson, Lucille, sounds the money, too - but then, she ALWAYS sounds the money. Even in his prime B.B. never cut up the stage with the guitar heroics of some of his contemporaries, always being much happier to float a high E up there, or honk around a bit further down the fretboard all in the most conversational kind of way. It's an avuncular style which hasn't changed, and it suits him more and more as he gets on - he gives his band plenty of room to set up a nice groove.

His chatty vocals set the whole thing off. Just like his guitar playing, B.B. singing is of the blues, but he never sounds unhappy, as if just having a bunch of the guys kicking up a righteous shuffle is enough to chase them ol' blues away. After listening to 45 minutes of this, it's hard to argue with that.