Robert Cray – ‘Nothin But Love’ (2012)

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I don’t remember the last time, outside of a live performance, when Robert Cray’s guitar sounded so present.

Nothin But Love, produced by Kevin Shirley and due August 27, 2012 in the UK and August 28 in North America from Provogue Records, puts Cray’s instrument front and center — then builds some of his most interesting collaborative moments around that signature sound.

“(Won’t Be) Coming Home,” for instance, is a great story song, centered on a picture from a hotel room — sent from a love long gone. The song inverts the expected blues narrative, however, in that this character is still setting the table for someone who isn’t coming home, even as he comes to the painful realization (illustrated within the frenzied unburdening of Cray’s solo) that, deep down, he’s glad she’s gone.



“Worry” takes a sensual Spanish tinge and amps it up with a churchy call-and-response, all surrounding the nights of quiet desperation for a man who waits for his unrequited to return. “Side Dish” discards all of that for a propulsive early-rock groove, sounding more like Chuck Berry than B.B. King.

“A Memo,” meanwhile, is sweetly soulful, and maybe a little Allmans-ish with those deeply nostalgic electric piano fills. “I’m Done Cryin'” finds Cray at the bottom of a brown bottle, riffing with a dark dejectedness and singing with a broken pride amid a swooning group of strings.

For all of its interesting sideroads, though, Nothin’ But Love also offers plenty of crowd-pleasing moments. Tracks like “I’ll Always Remember You” and “Blues Get Off My Shoulder” are tried-and-true mainstream bluesers, with forehead-slapping horns and furtive figures from Cray’s axe, but even here there are enough wrinkles — in the lyric, in the licks — to keep things from edging into the routine. Meanwhile, “Fix This” and “Great Big Old House” harken back to the upbeat blues of Cray’s earliest records, and in the most pleasing of ways.

“Sadder Days” finishes Nothin But Love with one more surprise, as a veteran band that includes bassist Richard Cousins, keyboardist Jim Pugh and drummer Tony Braunagel play against the title’s sad melancholy. The song instead races forward like a breaking sunrise — reminding us, one more time, what makes Cray’s music so personable, so relatable, so special.

There’s a reason Cray has won five Grammys, sold more records than any other guy playing the blues in the last 25 years, become the youngest ever living inductee into the Blues Hall of Fame. His records are fun to listen to, and perhaps none more — certainly for guitar fans — than this one.

Nick DeRiso